by Jay Nadal
“He’s an insect! Like all the rest, like my father. Too afraid to face the world and carve out his own future.”
“Really? Sounded like your dad was a decent man. Not like you or your grandpa at all.”
“He was weak. He let the world break him. I don’t let that happen. I am also a businessman,” he hissed between gritted teeth barely concealed by his lips. “I’ll let the police take your delusional ass off my property.”
“I know that you’ve been using a protection racket to get your hands on local businesses and then passing them on to French to disguise the income. I also know you killed Michael Orsini and have been helping NorEl gain key property in town by the back door.”
With each word, Dexter’s eyes grew wider and his face darker. Cade had already had many occasions in the past to wonder at Rissa’s cyber-brilliance. He knew that the information she had so matter-of-factly relayed to him was not exactly public record. She cracked encryptions the way a safecracker opened locks, with consummate skill that bordered on the magical.
“We have that information. But we’re the only ones. Me and my friend. She’s a helluva long way from here and ready and willing to make it a front page. Me, I’d settle for a long email to the FBI. Y’hear?”
Dexter just glared, eyes glittering hate.
“Anything happens to me, she goes public. Anything happens to her, same. Any more threats of pressure on my family… well, you’re a smart cookie, Billy. You’ve run enough protection rackets to know how this works.”
“Just what is it you want?” Dexter asked. The barrel of the gun almost touched Cade’s stomach. Cade noticed that his finger hovered on the trigger. He resisted the urge to tense his stomach muscles, forcing himself to relax.
“You withdraw the charges against me and call off your tame policeman in there. You leave my family alone until we can get Brandon back on his feet and leave town. After that, you can do what you like with it.”
Dexter laughed. It made his bodyguard jump and almost startled Cade, too.
“You’re just going to run away, that it? Leave the town to me and my protection rackets.”
“Glad you admit it,” Rissa piped in.
“I’m not admitting anything. I’m just humoring a disturbed man. Shut your mouth,” Dexter shot back. “I had you down as a hero type for a minute there. But you’re just looking out for yourself, aren’t you?”
“Myself and my family.”
“Sure, sure, sure. Family’s important. Anything happened to my boys, I’d kill whoever was responsible. I’d kill him good and slow. So, we’re not so different. Both just using what we got to make the world work for us.”
“No. I’m nothing like you. I’m just a long way past the time when I would have tried to fight for everyone you have your hooks into. I can’t take you on by myself. So I’ll settle for gettin’ my family out of this rat trap,” Cade told him.
His face was stone. The casual facade he had adopted to irritate Dexter had melted away. He didn’t like being reminded that he was running away. He knew that if he could get Beth and Brandon to follow, he would leave in a heartbeat, knowing there would be a dozen other families in the same position as the Collinses. He suppressed the guilt, the sense of injustice that Billy Dexter would still be here, thriving off Burford’s misery.
Dexter put the butt of the rifle down on the ground, holding it by the barrel. He relaxed, the fire fading from his cheeks.
“Davey, you’d better take the truck down to the gate. The police will arrive soon, and they won’t be able to get in.”
“You sure, boss?”
Dexter hardly moved. His hand lashed out to backhand Davey across the mouth. He didn’t look at him.
“Just do it.”
Davey mumbled his obedience and jogged away to a nearby SUV.
“Y’know, beat a dog enough, and one day it’s going to take off your hand,” Cade observed drily.
“I find that if you beat it hard enough, it’s too scared to step out of line.”
“I see why your boys turned out the way they are,” Cade commented.
He could see it. Billy Dexter used violence as casually as another man might use cuss words. Pa beats Jimmy. Jimmy probably beats Bobby and so does Pa. And Bobby goes crazy. Jimmy, too, most likely. He could name fifty guys in Houston who had turned their kids into psychos, into nightmares that went on to cause pain or even death wherever they went, lashing out at the world.
Cade locked stares with Dexter. This was the man who had taken innocent kids and turned them into monsters. This was the boy who had been turned into a monster himself. And Dexter couldn’t see it. It came to Cade as a sudden revelation. Dexter just didn’t see it. He saw the world as a hard place that had to be fought and punished, beaten into the shape you wanted. That was just how things were.
“One day I will kill you for that,” Dexter said, leaning in and almost whispering.
“I don’t intend sticking around for you to try.”
A crunch of stones under tires and the strobe of red-and-blue lights across the front of the house announced the Burford police. Car doors opened and closed. Cade turned his head. Two cops approached, hands on their weapons. Mitch was one, Nate was the other.
“Sir. Raise your hands above your head and get down on your knees,” Mitch barked at him.
Cade raised his free hand and moved it to meet his other hand behind his head. He kept the line open to Rissa.
“He’s got a journalist witness,” Dexter warned. “Let’s make this by the book, gentlemen.”
Chief Joseph came out of the house again.
“Good job, Mitch. Have you read his rights yet?”
“Just about to, sir,” Mitch replied.
Nate approached Cade. He took one wrist, twisting it down and behind Cade’s back. He said nothing as he reached for the phone.
“Hand the phone over please, sir,” he said with blank politeness.
“Officer, I’m a reporter and I will contact my friend’s attorney. If anything happens to him, it’ll be viral within the hour.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but nothing will happen to the gentleman,” Nate told her. “I’m hanging up this call now. We’re taking him to the Burford police station.” He looked directly at the screen when he said it and paused for a second just after.
“Burford police station. I’ll be waiting for his phone call.”
Nate hung up the call and put the phone into an evidence bag before folding the excess plastic of the bag.
“Officer, I would just like this man removed from my property. I’m dropping the charges against him.”
“You’re what?” Chief Joseph and Charles French, who had followed him outside, both exclaimed at once.
“Shut. The. Hell. Up.” Dexter bit off each word. “This is my business. I want the charges dropped. Just get him off my property.”
He took one final look at Cade. “I ever see you again, I’m going to shoot first.”
Cade turned away while Dexter spoke.
“Get him off my land!” came the answer to Cade’s adopted nonchalance.
He held out a hand to Nate. “Phone,” he said.
18
Beth stared at the bottle on the kitchen table. It was a California white she had picked up from Charlie’s store on the way home with Maddie. Maddie loved Uncle Charlie’s store. To her it was an Aladdin’s cave of oddments in random places about the shelves and infinitely preferable to the sterile uniformity of the supermarket. And Uncle Charlie often had a little something for her whenever they went in—a foam plane made by slotting the wing piece through the body and sliding a transparent plastic nose cone, complete with a propeller, onto the end; or a ball that bounced against a paddle, attached by a piece of elastic; or a yoyo.
As a millennial child, Madison was used to high-technology entertainment—smartphones, CGI, tablets—but despite this, she seemed absorbed by the antiquated toys and games which Charlie seemed to have in abundance. This time s
he had left with a game of Guess Who? that Beth remembered playing when she was a child. As Charlie had shown Maddie how to play on the store counter, Beth’s eyes had wandered to the cooler.
She didn’t have a drinking problem. Charlie had glanced at her for a moment when she brought the bottle to the cash register.
“Do you have a beard?” Maddie had demanded.
“No,” Charlie told her.
Maddie leaned her elbows on the counter. From the vantage point of the high stool that Charlie always fetched for her, she scrutinized each face that she still had standing, deciding whether or not she needed to flip them down.
“I’d be happy to share that with you,” Charlie said clumsily. “Shouldn’t drink alone.”
Beth’s face flushed with guilt as she stared at the bottle. “It’s for dinner. You’re invited, of course,” she said as brightly as she could.
Charlie knew Beth didn’t have a drinking problem. Not really. But he knew how Beth had been not long after moving to Burford. Now, Maddie had dragged Charlie off into the living room to play another game of Guess Who? And Beth looked at the bottle of wine.
“Maddie. Your show will start soon. Why not watch some TV and give Uncle Charlie a break?” Beth called through.
“Okay, Mommy,” Maddie agreed quickly, after being reminded about her favorite TV show.
Charlie ambled through to the kitchen as Maddie turned the TV on and found the right channel.
“She doesn’t get bored with doing the same thing, does she?”
Beth smiled weakly, getting a glass from the cupboard and putting it down next to the bottle.
“Not for me this early, thanks,” Charlie said. “Besides, I might need to drive.”
Beth nodded and didn’t open the bottle. “I haven’t felt like a drink for over a year. I’m not on the wagon,” she added hurriedly. “It’s nothing like that. I sometimes needed a drink when times were stressful.”
Charlie nodded. “I can understand that. Think I’ve been in some tough places where only a bottle could cure me. Don’t think it ever did.”
“It’s just to release the pressure a little. To relax. It doesn’t matter,” Beth said despondently.
She checked her phone and then walked to the kitchen window to look out into the backyard. Shadows were lengthening, though it was only about four o’clock. Here in the valley, dusk fell quickly as summer waned into fall, and the sun disappeared fast once it reached the rim of the valley. Nothing on her phone. No word from the hospital.
“Nothing?”
“No.”
Beth was glad that Charlie made no attempt to mouth the usual meaningless platitudes about how Brandon was in the right place, or no news being good news. It would have enraged her to hear it. So far, she had kept herself under control for Maddie’s sake. She had cleaned herself up before leaving to collect her and thought she looked normal. Charlie had seen through her attempted disguise right away and hadn’t left her side.
“What about Tommy?”
“He can take care of himself,” Beth said abruptly.
“Seems kinda harsh, Beth. After everything he’s done.”
Beth turned back to the kitchen table and took a seat. She reached for the bottle but limited herself to picking at the label.
“Things are different now, Charlie. When we were kids, it was just the two of us then. And Momma. And I would have done anything for my brother back then. He was my hero.”
“So, what’s changed?”
“Everything. I’ve got Brandon and Maddie. They have to come first. Always.”
“It’s not my place. But it seems to me like Tommy is trying hard to make something up to you. Was what he did really so bad?”
“Yes. No. Probably not. He just wasn’t there much with me and Momma after Dad left.”
“Your dad left you?”
“Oh yeah. Just up and walked out. I think he’d been in a fight with someone. He was really messed up.”
The memory was clear for Beth. Even the smell of His cheap cologne as He had stuffed His belongings into a bag.
“Donnie?” It had only been His name, but the question behind it was clear.
Beth stood by the fridge, trying to press her awkward fourteen-year-old body into the corner and out of His way. He stomped through the house, collecting His things.
“Told you, Claire. Told you. I’ve had enough of this shit.”
Momma had been a week out of the hospital. He hadn’t been back to the house since He had put her in there. Bruises still swelled Momma’s face, and she couldn’t move without some pain. Now, though, she followed her husband through the house and tried to persuade him to stay. Beth couldn’t understand it.
“Donnie. You need not go. If you’re sorry…”
“I ain’t. You had it comin’,” was Donnie’s spitting, poisonous reply. “I can’t stand this goddamn town anymore.”
His face had been just as swollen as Momma’s. That had been the shock when He turned up at the door. The shock that had made her scream. One eye shut completely, the other overshadowed by a swelling brow. A lump had risen on one cheek, and His mouth was swollen at one side. Tommy had been outside, just watching. So had Sherfiff Pino, though Beth couldn’t think of any reason for the Sheriff being there.
Momma had reached for him, caught his arm.
“You can’t just leave us, Donnie. Can’t just leave your kids.”
He had shaken her off, pushed her away, and turned with His hand raised. The anger showed itself again, and Momma shrank back. Beth dropped to the floor, clutching her knees to her chest. She could see right out through the front door to where Sheriff Pino held Tommy back. And then He looked in the same direction. But not at Tommy. At Pino. He lowered his fist and went on with His packing.
“Just leave me alone,” he muttered.
Then He was gone. No more beating on her or Tommy or Momma. No more fear every time He came home. He had left, thrown His bag in His car, and gone tearing off down the dirt road that ran between the trailers. Pino had said something to Tommy, then had followed. For a moment, Tommy met Beth’s eyes through the door. Momma cried, screaming the name “Donnie” as though she had lost the love of her life. And then Tommy turned and ran.
“Dad left, and then Tommy left, too. At least, we didn’t see much of him. Still don’t know where he went or what he was doing. He was only about fifteen, I think.”
“Everyone deals with things differently. Take me, for example. Walked away from that plane crash and it gave me a new lease on life. I was so glad that the good Lord gave me my life back, I couldn’t wait to try something new. Anything at all. But now, I know guys who’ve been through the same thing, and it destroyed them. That stuff helped to do it, too,” he said, jerking a thumb toward the bottle.
“You can take it away,” Beth said in a flat voice. “I will not be drinking.”
“Good girl,” Charlie said, taking the bottle and putting it away in a cupboard under the sink.
“I’ll put coffee on. I sure could use some,” he went on. “I don’t mind telling you, Beth. At my age, you don’t go a full day on your feet the whole time. You take naps just to give you the strength to get through to your early bedtime. Sounds tragic, don’t it?”
“Why don’t you stretch out upstairs, then?” Beth suggested. “In the guest room. Tommy won’t mind.”
“I told him I would stay with you, and that’s what I intend to do,” Charlie told her, picking up a magazine as if to show just how awake he still was.
“Charlie. You got us home. We’re as safe here as we can be. I’ll lock the windows and doors. Maddie’s right through…”
Beth realized that Maddie was no longer sitting in the middle of the floor watching TV. She stood, going to the window, and looked out into the backyard. Maddie sat in the grass with her tea set and her party of toys. And Bobby Dexter.
19
Beth almost screamed. Her hand went to her mouth a split second before the wail of horror to
re out of her. She bit the back of her hand hard, and the scream spent itself against the gag. To scream would be to frighten Maddie, and maybe precipitate something from Bobby.
Bobby looked toward the house. He grinned when he saw Beth watching. Maddie giggled and smiled, too, unable to read the malice that Beth could see in his eyes.
“What the hell…” Charlie had gotten up and saw Bobby, too. He lurched toward the back door, almost falling flat on his face in his effort to race outside.
Beth grabbed his arm, pulling him back and almost overbalancing him on top of her.
“Don’t you dare,” she growled.
Charlie looked at her, bewildered. “But that boy’s dangerous.”
“I know that. Do you think I’m stupid?” Her nails dug into Charlie’s arm, and he gently loosened her grip.
“Stay here. Keep quiet. I don’t want to do anything that will antagonize him or frighten Madison. Just leave this to me.”
Charlie protested, but Beth ignored him. She took his gnarled, liver-spotted hands in hers. “Please, Charlie.”
The set of his jaw was stubborn whenever he looked out at Bobby. But he relented. Beth caught him up in a quick hug. She moved to the back door and hesitated with her hand on the door handle. Bobby Dexter was unstable. Everyone knew that. Like a feral animal. What might he do if scared? What might he do in pure calculating evil? She smiled and pulled the door open, stepping outside.
Maddie looked up at the sound. So did Bobby.
“Hey, housewife,” he said insolently. His smile was for Maddie’s benefit only. There was nothing human about it.
“Hey, Bobby.”
“Just having tea with young Madison here.”
“Okay. Mind if I join the two of you? I’ve got OJ for you.”
Maddie was more than happy to make room in her carefully arranged circle. Beth took a seat on the grass. At the bottom of the garden was a wooden fence and beyond it, the tangle of woods that covered the rest of Meers Hill that hadn’t been developed. The fence, while high enough to deter Madison, served more to delineate the property than act as a security measure. Bobby must have come from the woods, like some kind of boogeyman.