Pretty Is As Pretty Does

  Pretty is

  as

  Pretty Does

  A POSSUM CREEK NOVEL

  GEN GRIFFIN

  If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

  PRETTY IS AS PRETTY DOES

  POSSUM CREEK #4

  Copyright © 2015 by Gen Griffin

  All rights reserved.

  ASIN:

  ISBN-13: 9781511513043

  ISBN-10: 1511513047

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means — including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise — without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Permission is granted to copy or reprint portions for any noncommercial use except they may not be posted online without permission. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Also By Gen Griffin

  The Possum Creek Series

  Lord Have Mercy (Prequel Novella)

  Hot Southern Mess

  Hissy Fit

  Hot Southern Nights

  Pretty Is As Pretty Does

  Give Me Some Sugar (Coming Soon)

  After The Apocalypse

  The Scavengers

  Church of Chaos

  False Idols

  DEDICATION

  To the readers.

  Y'all will never know how much you mean to me.

  Prologue

  An Excerpt From Hot Southern Nights

  (Possum Creek Book #3)

  “I'd almost decided to walk away. I stayed up all night last night waiting for Trish to come home. I thought I could talk some sense into her if I could just get her to listen to me. I waited for her in her bedroom. I slept in her bed. She never came home. She stayed out all fucking night and I almost gave up. I got back in my car and was going to drive home to figure out a new plan when my car hydroplaned and I ran off the road.”

  “Trish?” Addison narrowed his eyes at the motorist. He suddenly had a very, very bad feeling that he'd missed something important about this guy. “You're Curtis?”

  “Ha ha. It really took you this long to recognize me, Officer Fuck Buddy?” Curtis shook off the hood to reveal his fat, jowly face and piggish blue eyes.

  “I thought I told you to get the hell out of my town,” Addison said as warily eyed Trish's clearly enraged ex-husband.

  “Not without my wife,” Curtis replied. He reached one hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a very large handgun. “This nightmare has gone on long enough. Trish is coming home, whether she wants to or not. I'll kill blow her brains out before I'll let her marry another man.”

  Addison stared at the gun blankly. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what the hell was going on when the fat man pulled the trigger and shot Addison in the chest. Blood blossomed to the front of his shirt as he crumpled to the wet, muddy ground.

  Chapter 1

  “You can't just take off after a homicidal maniac.” Cal's exasperation was clear in his tone.

  “Worked out alright last time.” David pulled open the glove box of Cal's truck. “Where's your gun?”

  “I don't carry it.” Cal leaned against the passenger's side door-frame of his own truck.

  “What do you mean, you don't carry it?” David continued to toss all the paperwork out of the storage console. The owners manual fell open on the floorboards, spilling out the neatly folded registration. Cal watched as his insurance card landed in a heap of crumpled brown napkins. Next came Gracie's spare tampons, a handful of broken pens, a grubby red disposable lighter and a fistful of loose sockets.

  “I mean that having a loaded weapon on a college campus is against the law, David.” Cal sighed and shook his head at his best friend. “I quit carrying it when I enrolled in classes at Callahan Community.”

  David slammed the glove box shut abruptly. “Well, that's fucking useless.”

  “Sorry.” Cal rolled his eyes. “Didn't know it was my job to keep weapons available at all times just in case you got a wild hair up your ass to go kill someone.”

  “A wild hair up my ass?” David's dark green eyes narrowed as his head snapped up. “The only woman I've ever loved is hurt. Grover is dead. Addison may damn well be dead. I don't know because I don't have the balls to go back inside and sit in that fucking waiting room until we find out. I can't do it. I just can't.”

  “David-.”

  “No. Shut up. I don't want to hear you tell me how going back in there is the right thing to do.” David jerked his thumb back towards the emergency room doors. “I don't want to be in the room when that doctor walks back in and tells us that Addy didn't make it. I can't fucking cope with that today.”

  “You don't know he's going to die,” Cal nearly choked on the words.

  “Addison carries a .45 and the paramedics think he got shot in the chest with his own gun. If that's true then the odds aren't going to be real high in his favor.” David closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. His chest was so tight that he felt like he was the one who had taken the bullet.

  “So what? You're leaving?” Cal jammed his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “Addy could be dying and you're running off?”

  “No.” David slammed his fist as hard as he could into the dashboard of Cal's truck. The plastic crumpled under the impact. “I'm going to go hunt down and kill the motherfucking bastard who did this.”

  “We don't know where Curtis is,” Cal pointed out.

  “He's got Addison's truck. It stands out.”

  “Frank's already put an APB out on the truck,” Cal said. “Come on. Let's just go back inside. Trish and Gracie are still in the waiting room. The girls are going to expect me to try and talk some sense into you.”

  “Tell Trish-.” David reached for the ignition of the truck and turned the key. The big engine roared to life.“Tell Trish I'm sorry.”

  “Goddammit David, you can't just-.”

  “I have to,” David said. “I didn't take Curtis seriously. Now Trish's grandfather is dead and Addison has a bullet in his chest. I knew Curtis kept calling her. I knew he'd made threats. I told her not to worry about him. I promised her that I would protect her and take care of her. I've failed. I'm a complete fucking failure and there is only one way to make this right.”

  “Nothing that has happened today has been your fault.” Cal slammed his hands against the door-frame. “You can't make this right. Grover is dead. Riding off into a stormy night with a gun and a death wish won't bring anyone back from the dead. Come back inside.”

  “I can't.” David tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “I'm sorry, Cal. I can't do it. I can't sit in that sterile, cold, miserable waiting room for one more minute. I can't sit on my ass doing nothing for hours while the girls bawl their eyes out. I can't wait around in this hospital and make small talk about how bad the weather is with every single person who is going to turn up when they find out that Addy's been shot. I can't do it. Its not in me. Tell Momma and the girls and everyone else that I'm fucking sorry.”

  “You can't just go kill Trish's ex-husband.”

  “Yes, I can.” David moved his hand onto the gearshift and popped the truck into reverse. “Its the only goddamn thing I can do. Let go of the door, Cal.”

  “Fuck.” Cal started to sit down in the passenger's seat. “If you're going after this nutcase, I'm going with you.”r />
  “No,” David said. “Get out.”

  “You can't order me out of my own truck. Technically, you're stealing my truck.” Cal grabbed the door handle in his hand but he hesitated before he shut the door.

  “Get out of the truck,” David said.

  “Why?”

  David sighed. “Because one of us needs to be inside with the girls.”

  “We both need to be inside with the girls. Your homicidal maniac might not be gone. What if he comes back?”

  “He's not coming back.”

  “What if he does?”

  “Kill him, Calvin.” David rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes. “Kill the bastard.”

  “Come back inside. Let the cops do their job and find Curtis. He probably hauled ass out of Callahan County the minute after he shot Addy. He ran, David. You won't find him.” Cal still hadn't shut the door on the truck.

  “What cops?” David asked. “Ian's an idiot. Kerry's incompetent and Frank Chasson is old, fat and sitting in the same damned waiting room that you and I just walked out of. Addy's the only decent cop we've got.”

  “The State police.”

  “State police aren't going to come all the way down to Possum Creek.”

  “Curtis probably left Possum Creek.”

  “But what if he didn't?” David countered.

  “We'll get him.” Cal frowned at the doors of the hospital. “Somehow.”

  “I'm going after the bastard. You can't stop me and you're not coming with me.”

  “Why can't I come with you?”

  “Because someone has to handle the mess here.” David gestured at the hospital room. “If Addy's dead, then one of us needs to be here.”

  Cal took a deep breath and then sighed. “You still don't have a gun.”

  “I can get a gun.”

  “Where?”

  “I found Grover's stash the other night.”

  “Addy's been looking for that.”

  “I know. I was going to tell him.” David choked on his own tongue and then looked away, blinking back tears. “Dammit, I can't do this. Not today. Not ever. This isn't how its supposed to go. I'm the reckless one. I'm the one who pisses people off and takes stupid risks. I'm the one who doesn't care if I live or die. It should be me on that operating table. Not Addison.”

  “David, we don't know what happened. Addy knew Curtis was dangerous. Trish told me that Addison had already pulled a gun on him. Addy told Curtis that he'd shoot him if he ever bothered her again. You know him. He damn well could have seen the car and decided to confront Curtis.”

  “He doesn't think,” David muttered. “Not that he should have been afraid of Curtis. He was just a loudmouthed loser.”

  “A loudmouthed loser with a gun and nothing left to lose.” Cal scowled at David. “Which is exactly why you shouldn't go after him. As much as I hate to say this, he took Addy out. What makes you think that you're going to fare any better?”

  “Because I'm a bad ass son of a bitch.” David tapped the accelerator lightly with the toe of his boot. “Get out of the truck. That's Gracie's Mom's van pulling in right now. You know you can't leave Gracie alone with Jane May for more than five minutes. Especially not under this kind of stress.”

  “Come back inside with me.” Cal climbed out of the cab of the truck. He leaned heavily against the door. “Its going to be a madhouse in there. As you've already pointed out so succinctly, Grover is dead and Addy's been shot. You're better at dealing with Jane May than I am.”

  “We're at a hospital. Maybe you can talk one of then nurses into sedating her. Or committing her. Try for the second one.”

  “David-.”

  “Stop trying to stall, Cal.” David let the truck ease backwards even though the passenger's side door was still open.

  “What the hell am I supposed to tell Trisha when she asks me why you're not staying with her?” Cal snapped. “She's going to want you here.”

  David shrugged. “I don't know. Tell her I'm a bad guy and shitty fiance.”

  “David-.”

  “No, really. I failed her. Completely. Tell her I'm a piece of shit and that she doesn't have to worry about marrying me.”

  “Jesus Christ, will you stop?”

  “Not until I kill this son of a bitch,” David said. “Now shut the door or I'm going to hit you with it.”

  “Don't do this.”

  “Too late.”

  “What am I going to tell Trish if you get yourself killed?” Cal demanded.

  David took a deep breath. “If I die, take care of her.”

  “Jesus-.”

  David slammed his foot down on the accelerator and the big Chevy shot backwards out of the parking space, narrowly missing Cal. The door slammed shut as David cut the wheels hard to the left and threw the transmission into drive. The tires screamed against the wet pavement as he peeled out of the hospital parking lot in the pouring rain.

  Chapter 2

  “Want to tell me which one of the sluts in this town is responsible for getting my son killed?” Jane May Malone stood in the middle of the hospital's waiting room and glared at Gracie.

  Gracie sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she spoke with visible effort. “He's not dead, mother. He's in surgery.”

  “He's been shot.” Jane May's turquoise eyes were an exact mirror to her daughter's and the expression in them was equally hostile. “Frank told me that the shooter was some girl's ex-husband. I didn't recognize her name, but I assume Addison was sleeping with her. I can't say I'm at all surprised. I wish I were. I wish I hadn't seen this day coming.”

  “Can you at least try to pretend to care about whether he lives or dies?” Gracie asked. “It's not Trish's fault that Addison got shot.”

  Trish stood up from the hard plastic chair she'd been sitting in. The last thing she wanted was to insert herself in the middle of Gracie's argument with her mother, but making Gracie defend her seemed unfair.

  “I'm sorry that Addison got shot. You can blame me if you want to. You can hate me. But just for the record, I wasn't sleeping with him.” Trish stared tiredly into Jane May's angry turquoise eyes. “Gracie doesn't deserve to be yelled at for my mistakes.”

  “You're Trish?” Jane May looked Trish up and down for a long moment and then wrinkled her nose. “You're fatter than the girls my son normally goes for.”

  Trish blinked at Jane May and then shrugged. Her broken arm was throbbing horribly and her pain killers had worn off more than an hour ago. “Gee, thanks. Like I said, I'm not sleeping with him.”

  “It wouldn't matter if you were,” Gracie snapped. “Addy is a good guy. He's going to stand up for any woman who is being mistreated by a man.”

  “Just like you. Always trying to defend your brother. Even now.” Jane May's graying blonde hair was frizzy and coming loose from its ponytail. Her bright eyes were bloodshot but dry. Jane May wouldn't be shedding any tears over her son's current condition. “I never said I didn't care about your brother. No parent wants to bury their child.”

  “And yet you're trying to find someone to blame him for getting shot?” Gracie ran one hand through her own wavy blonde hair. “It doesn't matter who Addison didn't or didn't sleep with. He's hurt. Why can't you just sit down in a chair and quietly starting saying your prayers like the rest of us have been doing for the last hour?”

  “Have those prayers done you any good yet?” Jane May asked skeptically.

  “He's not dead,” Gracie retorted.

  “If he does die, I want you to know that I fully blame you for ruining my relationship with him,” Jane May practically spat the words at Gracie. “Thanks to your actions, your brother and I haven't spoken in months. The last time I talked to him, I was screaming at him.”

  “And that would be my fault how?” Gracie asked.

  “Addison still sees you as a sweet little girl who can do no wrong. I see you for what you are.” She crossed her arms over her surprisingly thi
ck mid-section. Jane May's scrub shirt was stretched tight over her stomach though it hung loose everywhere else on her.

  “Which is what, mother?” Gracie's nose was still stopped up and her voice was hoarse from crying.

  “A manipulative little bitch,” Jane May snapped. “You have single-handedly ruined-.”

  “Jane May!” A short woman with broad shoulders and curly hair stepped in between Gracie and her mother. She was dressed in a pretty lilac summer dress with a crew neck and a long hemline. “That's enough. Sit down and pull yourself together. You're hysterical and don't realize what you're saying.”

  “Oh, I fully realize what I'm-.”

  “Shut up, Jane May.” The shorter woman held up one hand and made a shushing gesture. “For the love of God, shut up.”

  Jane May looked from Gracie to the short woman and then to Trish. She shook her head at the three of them. “Gracie ruined my relationship with Addison. If he dies, I'll never forgive her. And as for the girl who got Addison shot, she fully deserves to be held responsible for her actions.”

  The short woman looked at Trish for a minute and then frowned back at Jane May. “If the girl didn't pull the trigger, then she isn't responsible for the crime.”

  “The man who shot my son did it because of her,” Jane May pointed directly at Trish. “She's just as much to blame as her husband.”

  “Ex-husband,” Trish said tiredly. “Curtis is my ex-husband. Or he will be if I live long enough to make it to my final court date.”

  “Unless you're actually divorced, you're not free to move on. Involving my son in your marital problems-.”

  “Addison is only involved in my marital problems in the sense that he stopped Curtis from killing me,” Trish snapped. “I'm sorry that he got hurt because he tried to help me.”

  “Trish, it's not your fault.” Gracie stepped up beside Trish. The blonde girl tried to put her arm around Trish's shoulders but Trish pulled away.