John Norman kept his truck at a steady sixty-five as it sped down the highway. He headed north towards the Abbeville County line. Carol worked as a dancer at the Boom Boom Room, and word had it that it was parked out on the boat ramp near Beer Garden Creek this weekend. Country music came in on the radio over static. John lit up a cigarette and stared out at the swath of road his headlights illuminated. 

He and Carol had something years ago back when they were in high school. It was a kid's love that burned way too intense. They brought out the worst in each in other. She made him jealous and obsessive, and he made her churlish and cruel. His first stretch of legal trouble was because of Carol. He broke Ferrell Jones' arm after Carol made out with him. The make out sessions followed an argument between the two of them. She didn't even like Ferrell, she just did it to get a rise out of John. He copped a plea and got a year on probation for the attack. He graduated to harder crime and the two of them drifted apart after he went away. By the time he got out three years later, she was hooked up with Jed Tillman and having his baby. C'est la fucking vie. 

They still saw each other around town from time to time, only really said hello to each other. She had two kids with Jed, just one of his three baby momma's. Despite it all, what they went through and what they made each other, he still caught himself from time to time thinking about what might have been.

John flipped his cigarette butt out the cracked window and pulled on to Beer Garden Road. He killed the radio halfway down the road and could hear the music pounding loud through the woods. Generic hip-hop from the way it sounded. He turned a corner and his headlights fell on the party scene. Four big RVs sat by the boat ramp, forming a semi-circle. Folding chairs and card tables dotted the dirt and pavement in front of the RVs. People sat and partied around the tables and chairs. Women in bikinis, some just wearing the bottoms, pranced and danced on and around the tables. 

As wild as Pickett County was, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that a strip club could operate without the bible thumpers getting their panties in a wad over it. They barely tolerated the bars as it was, to have a brazen den of iniquity like a strip club would be beyond the pale. That's where Billy Brown's genius came in. They couldn't have a [i]permanent[/i] strip club in town, so he made a [i]mobile[/i] one. Once a month, four RV's picked a spot out in the country and set up shop. Billy had somebody in the PCSD make sure the patrols avoided that area for the weekend. Strippers, drugs, and booze were all available at the Boom Boom Room. The RVs were set up to provide the girls and their customers private time where many of the men paid extra for more than just lap dances. Last he heard Carol was one of the dancers. He figured the odds on her hooking were slim. Jed Tillman was the jealous type. Only an idiot or out of towner would be stupid enough to mess with one of his women.

John got out the truck and walked through the party. Theo Tatum, Billy's guy who ran the show, found him and pressed him for twenty bucks, the standard entrance fee to stay at the Boom Boom Room. He coughed up and checked out the sights. Men in wobbly chairs watched young, naked women grinding on them with lusty glints in their eyes. He had to stifle a laugh. Most of these guys would be in church somewhere on Sunday, praying and talking up the Lord and all his goodness, condemning the wicked and the sinful. Southern duality and hypocrisy. It would be one thing to sin. Everyone sins. You gotta sin to get saved, after all, but the denial and condemnation of it all is what made John sick. It was why he hadn't stepped foot in a church since he was twelve years old.

"Hey, baby," John said as he came up on one of the dancers, a twenty in his hand.

"Hey, yourself, John Norman," she said with a wink.

She was topless, wearing a red string bikini bottom that showed off her large behind. Her cinnamon colored skin was dotted with moles and a scattering of freckles around her shoulders. John knew her well. He didn't stare at her small, firm breasts because he'd seen her naked more than a few times. Lacey Cade had been a year behind him in school. They didn't interact much, he being a white boy and she a black girl. After school, they drifted in the same social circles due to their roguish activities. John helped her out of a jam a time or two and she'd paid him back with a few gratitude lays. He felt shitty about it the first time, like he was exploiting her, but got used to it with each subsequent pairing. They tried dating, but it didn't really work out. They were just too different. He thought at first it was because of their differing races, but he realized he was the wrong type of guy for her. She needed a guy to take her away from this shitty little town and shitty little county. He wasn't capable of doing that. There was a lot John could do for her, but escape was something he was incapable of.

"Got a moment to talk?" He asked as he passed her the twenty.

"As long as it's talking, John Norman."

He hid a smile. He forgot how she always called him by his full name. Never just John. Lacey took him by the hand and led him to an empty table near the edge of the clearing, farther away from the music and grinding women. He found the picture of Howard Beggs he'd been using and gave it to Lacey.

"You recognize this guy, Lay Lay?"

John saw the slightest hint of a grin from Lacey when he used his nickname for her. She brushed her hair behind her ear and studied the photo.

"He look familiar. I think I saw him at one of the parties a few months ago. Not the last one, but the one before that maybe."

"Did you see him around with Carol Johson? Is she working tonight?"

"Carol? I ain't seen her in... you know, the last time I think she worked one of the parties was the same time I saw this guy."

John got out his pack of cigarettes and offered Lacey one. She took it and let him light her smoke. They took a few seconds pause in the conversation to enjoy smoking.

"Why you after me, John Norman? What'd he do?"

John flicked ashes and said, "You know what I do for a living, Lay Lay, he owes me some money."

Lacey's eyes flashed. She tapped his arm excitedly. "I remember now! When he was here, that guy you showed me, he was throwing money all over the damn place. Had a fat roll and acted like he owned everything. He had girls all over him... but he went into the RV with just Carol."

John nodded and blew smoke into the air. No Beggs and no Carol, but something interesting as hell was niggling him. If Beggs had cash like that a few months ago, then why was Carol paying for their drugs from Georgie? Strange. The hell was this guy into, and more importantly, why did Sheriff Parker give a shit?

"Thanks for the help, Lay Lay. I appreciate it."

She squeezed his hand. "I'm always happy to help you out, John Norman. You know that. In... any... way."

John laughed. "I don't know if I can afford it, baby."

"Didn't say I was selling. You want to give me a ride home tonight after we close up here?"

John nodded. Howard Beggs, Carol, and all the bullshit around it could wait until the morning.