“She went to buy groceries in Golden Meadow,” I said.
“I didn’t see the car and thought you might like to have some beer and cracklings with me.”
“Sure, I would. Come in.”
“In the fall we always made cracklings and boudin and had people over to eat on the gallery,” he said. “You ever do that?”
“Yeah, my grandfather was big on barbecues. We had some fine times.”
I knew something else was on his mind. I guess for Hershel I would always be the lieutenant, the man who had pulled him from a collapsed foxhole and could do no wrong.
“Did something happen today?” I asked.
“Linda Gail called from Houston. She was pretty upset. It’s this guy Jack Valentine. Remember him? We got our house in River Oaks through Jack.”
“I remember him well.”
“He told Linda Gail this crazy
story. He says you attacked him at the hotel opening Lloyd Fincher took y’all to.”
“I wouldn’t phrase it that way.”
“He also says you turned Bugsy Siegel loose on him.”
“That last part is pretty accurate.”
“You didn’t punch Jack in the mouth?”
“I flattened him.”
His eyes went away from mine. “What for?”
“He got out of line.”
“What’d he say?”
“What difference does it make? He’s coarse and vulgar and treats other people like they have the same frame of reference he does.”
“He says he told a joke in the restroom, and for no reason you blindsided him.”
“He told me Roy Wiseheart kept a hotel room for his trysts. I didn’t want to hear any more of his ugly stories about other people. He kept at it, and I lost control. It was a foolish thing to do.”
“You poleaxed a guy over something he said about Roy Wiseheart?”
“I’m a little foggy on what happened, Hershel. I don’t handle alcohol well.”
“This doesn’t sound like you. You handle your liquor just fine.”
“Valentine is a bum. Let it go.”
“Is he the guy?”
“What do you mean by ‘the guy’?”
“The guy sleeping with Linda Gail.”
“He was half in the bag. He made a loose remark. I’m not even sure what it was. I hit him. If I had it to do over, I’d walk away and not pay him any mind.”