Where There's Smoke

“Then why are you willing to work for me?”

Nancy took a deep breath. “My daddy was a pumper for Tackett Oil and Gas for twenty-five years. This was years ago, when Clark Senior was still head honcho.” She paused. “You know that Clark—your Clark—was a third-generation Clark Tackett, don’t you? His granddaddy was Clark Senior and his daddy Clark Junior.”

“Yes. He told me.”

“Okay, so anyway,” Nancy resumed, “there was an accident at one of the wells and my daddy was killed.”

“Did the Tacketts admit culpability?”

“They did what they had to do to cover themselves legally. Mama got all the insurance money she was entitled to. But none of them came to the funeral. Nobody called. They had the flower shop deliver a big spray of chrysanthemums to the church, but none of them saw fit to visit my mama.

“I was just a kid at the time, but I thought then, and still think, that it was rotten of them to be so standoffish. True, Daddy’s death didn’t make a ripple in one barrel of their filthy oil, but he was a loyal, hardworking employee. Since then I’ve had a low opinion of all the Tacketts, but particularly of Jody.”

“Why particularly of Jody?”

“Because she only married Clark Junior to get her greedy hands on Tackett Oil.” Nancy inched forward in her chair. “See, Clark Senior was a wildcatter at the height of the boom. He struck oil the first time he drilled and made a shitload of money virtually overnight, then kept right on making it. Clark Junior came along. His main ambition in life was to have a good time and spend as much of his daddy’s money as he could, mostly on gambling, whiskey, and women.”

She sighed reminiscently. “He was the best-looking man I ever laid eyes on. Women from all over mourned his passing. But Jody sure as hell didn’t. When he died she got what she’d wanted all along.”

“Tackett Oil?”

“Total control. The old man was already dead. When Clark Junior slid off that icy mountain—in the Himalayas, I think it was—and broke his neck, Jody rolled up her shirtsleeves and went to work.”

Nancy needed no encouragement to talk.

“She’s tough as boot leather. Came from a poor farming family. Their house got blown down by a tornado. They all got killed except her. A widow lady took her in and finished raising her.

“Jody was as smart as they come and got a scholarship to Texas Tech. Straight out of college she went to work for Clark Senior. He was a land man and acquired some of his best leases even after everybody thought all the oil in East Texas was spoken for. The old man liked her. Jody was everything that Clark Junior wasn’t—responsible, ambitious, driven. I think Clark Senior was the one behind the marriage.”

“What do you mean?”

“The story is that Clark Junior had knocked up a debutante from Fort Worth. Her daddy had mob connections and, for all his money and social standing, was nothing but a glorified pimp. Clark Senior wanted no part of that, so he rushed Clark Junior into marriage with Jody.

“I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s possible. Clark Junior loved to party. He could have had his pick from hundreds of women. Why would he agree to saddle himself with Jody if not to get out of a scrape with a mobster?

“Anyhow, they got married. Clark the Third didn’t come along for years. The nastier gossips said it took Clark Junior that long to work up a hard-on for Jody, who never was a beauty. In fact, she goes out of her way to be plain. I guess she thinks that brains and beauty cancel out each other.”

“Didn’t she mind Clark Junior’s womanizing?”

Nancy shrugged. “If she did, she didn’t let on. She ignored his philandering and concentrated on running the business. I guess she didn’t care about him nearly as much as she did the price of crude. Left to him, he probably would have bankrupted Tackett Oil. Not Jody. She’s prospered when others have fallen by the wayside. She’s a ruthless businesswoman.”

“I’m getting a taste of her ruthlessness,” Lara said quietly.

“Well, you have to understand where she’s coming from about that.” Nancy leaned forward and lowered her voice, although there was no one around to overhear them. “The only thing Jody loved better than Tackett Oil was her boy, Clark. She thought the sun rose and set in him. I guess he never crossed her. Anyway, she had his future all mapped out, including a stint in the White House. She blames you for destroying that dream.”

“She and everyone else.”

After a reflective moment, Nancy said, “Be careful, Dr. Mallory. Jody has money and power and an ax to grind. That makes her dangerous.” She patted Lara’s hand. “Personally, I’m rooting for anyone outside her favor.”

r /> Nancy was in the minority. In the months since that conversation, there’d been no discernible increase in the number of patients who came to the clinic. Only a few people in Eden Pass had risked Jody’s disfavor by seeking Lara’s professional services. Ironically, one of them was Jody’s own son.

Surely by now Key Tackett had discovered his blunder. Her name had probably ricocheted off the walls of the Tacketts’ house with the ferocity of a racquetball.

Let them curse her. She had come to Eden Pass with a specific goal in mind, and it wasn’t to win the Tacketts’ regard. She wanted something, but it wasn’t approval.

When it came time for her to demand of them what they owed her, she didn’t care if they liked her or not.

Relatively speaking, this was a busy morning. She was scheduled to see five patients before noon. Her first was an elderly woman who rattled off a litany of complaints. Upon examining her, Lara discovered she was as healthy as a horse, if a bit lonely. She prescribed some pills—which were really multivitamin tablets—and told the woman about the fun exercise classes at the Methodist Church.