Dying Truth

by Jay Nadal

  She looked pale and tired. Her eyes were circled with dark, and there was no makeup on her face. For a moment, Momma stood there in front of him.

  “Hi, Tommy. Thanks for coming by,” she whispered.

  It surprised Cade. Last time he had spoken to her, she had been brimming with venom. She gave him a hug, which he returned. Then she led him through a large ward, divided up by curtain partitions. Equipment surrounded each bed. Most of the occupants of the beds showed no interest in the new arrival. They were all festooned with wires and cables which emerged from mouths, noses, and wrists to feed into the machines. At the end of the ward was a side room.

  As he neared the door, Cade slowed. Beth looked back at him once and took his hand. They reached the door, and he followed her inside. A nurse was checking a monitor and making notes onto a complicated-looking sheet. Brandon lay, like the others, surrounded by his life-support apparatus. A thick gray sheath was attached to one finger, a cable leading from it to a monitor showing a complex array of data in bright primary colors against a black background. A white tube disappeared into the corner of his mouth, taped in place on his cheek, another taped to his nostril. There was a growth of stubble on his cheeks and jaw.

  Beth moved to the bedside and took Brandon’s hand as she sat in the chair. nearest to his bed.

  “How…” Cade didn’t know how to finish the question

  Beth smiled wanly, understanding in her eyes. “He’s still in the induced coma. There was head trauma and a bleed on the brain. This is the best way to heal him. To let his body heal itself.”

  Cade took a seat opposite Beth, sitting gingerly as though afraid to wake Brandon.

  “That’s a ventilator, right?”

  “Yes…” Beth faltered, eyes tearing. “He arrested earlier today, and they said he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. His own breathing wasn’t strong enough. They put him on the ventilator to help him.”

  Cade rubbed a hand across his jaw, watching Brandon. He sought for the professional detachment he had once summoned so easily. But it eluded him. He felt for Beth and Maddie; it was a raw grief, a hole in him. He sat quietly for a minute, not trusting his voice not to break if he tried to speak. What was there to say, anyway?

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about… about the past,” he said finally.

  “Uh-huh.” Beth watched Brandon, smoothing his hair away from his face.

  “I’m sorry, Beth. I know it’s just words, and what can they possibly mean, anyway. But I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t. I should have been there. Just like I should have been there when you guys moved here and the Dexters got their hooks into you.”

  “We won’t talk about them here.” Beth looked at him, her face set.

  “I just want you to know that I’ve been looking for a way to help you. And I think I’ve got it.”

  “Not here, Tommy.”

  “Just listen.”

  “No!” She looked at Brandon and lowered her voice. “Don’t you get it? My only concern is Brandon and Maddie. Nothing else matters. If the Dexters have torched the garage and our house, I don’t care. Whatever you’ve been doing… I’m glad you’re here now. Okay? I know I said some horrible things to you. And at the time, I meant them. But that doesn’t matter now ’cause I almost lost him today. I still might. And I… I need my big brother with me.”

  Cade got up and walked around to her. He crouched beside her, putting his arms around her shoulders, and held her to him.

  “Understood. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, the words almost sticking in his throat.

  He hadn’t cried for any reason since Ellie died. Not when Elaine left. Not when Rivera died. He wasn’t going to now. Beth needed a rock. He had worked damned hard all his life to be as hard as stone. This wasn’t the time to cave in. He cleared his throat and wiped his misted eyes.

  “Um, where’s Maddie?”

  “My friend Laura took her down to the kids’ playroom to play for a while. She’ll be taking Maddie home to her place soon.”

  “I can take care of her.”

  “No. I mean, I know you can. But Laura’s little girl is Maddie’s best friend, and she loves having sleepovers at her Aunt Laura’s house. I want her happy and comfortable.”

  “Okay. So, what can I do?”

  “Just stay with me for a while. I like it when other people are here with me. You don’t have to try and make conversation. Just be here, y’know?”

  “Sure.”

  He gave Beth a squeeze and went back to the padded plastic seat, settling himself. Right now, the one thing he could do very well was sit and do nothing. In fact, it would be tough staying awake.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  Cade was awakened by a soft tap to his shoulder. A nurse leaned over.

  “Excuse me, sir. Are you Tommy?”

  “Yeah,” Cade said blearily. “What time is it?”

  “It’s a little after eleven,” the nurse replied in a soft voice.

  Cade looked across at Beth, who was fast asleep, her head nestled against Brandon’s hand.

  “Have we slept right through visiting hours?”

  “It’s okay, Tommy. We make special allowances here. But my supervisor thinks it’s probably best, especially for Beth, that she gets some proper sleep and food at home. She needs to keep her strength up for the little one.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Sorry, it's been a long day. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I think just being in the room with your loved ones helps. It’s not exactly scientific, but I think it makes a difference. I think they know, even when they’re under like Brandon is.”

  Beth was stirring. She lifted bleary eyes, blinking away sleep.

  “Is it time to go already?” she asked.

  “’Fraid so, sis,” Cade told her, getting out of the chair and walking around to help her up. She swayed as she got to her feet, and he took her arm, letting her lean on him.

  “Whoa, there. Have you taken something?”

  Beth’s look was withering. “It’s just been a long day. Remember? A lot has happened. And I haven’t eaten as much as I should. It’s called being a mom.”

  She said goodnight to Brandon, and then she and Cade left the ward. As she led the way out of the hospital, by a much more direct route than Cade had found, she eyed his shirt.

  “Where did you get that thing? It looks about three sizes too big for you.”

  “It’s Charlie’s,” Cade answered.

  “That’s really not the answer I was expecting. Why in hell are you wearing Charlie Biggs’s shirt?”

  Cade told her about the riot outside town hall.

  “Is this whole town just going crazy? A—a what? A riot. An actual riot.”

  “Sure was. Started off as a protest against this fracking thing NorEl is planning and just turned.”

  “Well, that just shows those greenies are all crazy. I’ve never understood what their problem is. Brandon and I pay way too much for our electricity. If there’s a cheaper way to do it…”

  “Yeah, well, I’d agree with you. But this riot didn’t have anything to do with the protesters. It was the Dexters who laid on the heavies, and they started the fighting.”

  They had reached Beth’s car. She paused, keys in the door.

  “The Dexters? You know what? I don’t want to know. I don’t want to get drawn in.”

  “You already are, sis. Your business sits where the old railroad from Shell’s Ridge to the mainline to the coast used to run. The Dexters have got their hands on at least one other property in town that has been built along the line. I think they need that line to make the whole thing work.”

  “Tommy.” Beth’s face was pained. She looked skyward, blinking back tears. “I can’t be thinking about everything and everyone. If that’s what they’re after… I just don’t care. Once Brandon is back on his feet, maybe
I’ll care. Maybe I’ll appreciate the great detective work you’ve done. But…”

  Cade backed away from the car, raising his hands in surrender. “I know. I know. I won’t mention them again. I said I’d be there for you. And I will. That’s the last time you’ll hear their name.”

  “I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch. I just…” She put a hand to her forehead, as though trying to smooth out a headache.

  “You’re not. Don’ worry about it.”

  “Can you find your way home from here? I mean, Riverside Drive?”

  “Sure can. I’ll see you back there.”

  27

  Jimmy sipped his beer and tried to concentrate on the baseball game showing above the bar. The place was quiet, the regular customers chased away by the Dexter boys and their swaggering entourage. Most had learned by now that sharing a bar with the Dexters wasn’t the most comfortable experience. Bobby was unpredictable and likely to take offense at a glance or see a slight in a wrong word. Jimmy was calmer, but known for his brutality when he lost it. The Domino Bar in West Burford was Dexter-owned. When they had arrived earlier that evening, Jimmy had just ordered the place closed. No one had objected.

  But he was distracted by his brother. Bobby played pool at the other end of the bar. He didn’t deal with boredom well. He acted up, fooling around. A few of the guys attached themselves to Bobby, because he liked to throw the Dexter cash around in places like this. And the louder he got, the louder they got. It was like they were trying to encourage him to do something dumb.

  Earlier that evening they had pulled up outside Beth Collins’s house with papers that transferred ownership of the auto shop to Pa Dexter. The house had been dark, the driveway empty. Bobby had broken in, after Jimmy had told him not to. He didn’t seem to be able to help himself. He kept saying that Beth might be inside asleep, and he was just going to check. It was like he wanted to come across her asleep and helpless. Bobby had gone in the back and come out of the front, shaking his head and lifting his arms in an expressive shrug.

  “The lady’s not at home,” he had said with a big, stupid grin on his face.

  Jimmy had waited till he got back in the car and then hit him across the face. He had driven them to the bar to wait for Beth to return. Andy Mulligan had been dispatched from Jimmy’s crew to watch the house and call Jimmy when she got back. Mike Docherty watched the hospital. Bobby’s boys hollered and laughed as Bobby jumped onto the pool table.

  Jimmy watched his kid brother and forced himself to stop. Pa was losing patience with Bobby. He had never had much to begin with. Bobby just couldn’t take an order. Tell him to stop doing something and a minute later, he did it again. And then there were the risks he took, the impulses. The closer this deal with Janger got to completion, the shorter Pa Dexter’s fuse got. And Jimmy was thinking Pa just might kill Bobby. If that happened… Jimmy had always been a loyal soldier. That’s what the beatings had done to him. He obeyed. He stored up all his anger and hate, and he used them on everyone else around him.

  But Pa was in command. Bobby had never been a soldier. The same upbringing, if you could call it that, had just made him more volatile. Pa had beaten on Bobby a lot more than he ever did with Jimmy, kept talking about beating respect into him. Obedience. It didn’t work, and Jimmy knew, if Pa killed Bobby, he would kill Pa.

  He had taken a call from Pa not long after sending Bobby off to deal with Charlie Biggs. Pa had been on the ragged edge. Anger had seethed behind every word, the kind of anger that only ignited in Pa Dexter every once in a while. The kind of anger that made Jimmy glad he was on the end of a phone, and glad that Bobby was nowhere near. Pa had clarified that he needed ownership of Collins Autos within twenty-four hours.

  “You got to be fucking kidding me.” Jimmy’s reply was unwise.

  “Did I hear you right, boy? This must be a bad line, ’cause I am certain I heard you question me.”

  “No, Pa. I’m sorry. I’ve been working on—”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you and that no-good brother think you’ve been working on. I don’t need your half-assed attempts at planning, Jimmy. I need you to do as I tell you. We need those deeds. If we don’t have them, this whole deal falls through. And I will kill both of you. Do you understand me, boy?”

  “Yes, Pa. We’re going to see Beth tonight. Bobby is taking care of the old man who's been hanging around her.”

  “What old man? No, don’t bother. I do not want to know. Go see her. Threaten her, threaten her kid. Do whatever you have to do to get her to sign, and then bring me the deeds.”

  “Right, Pa. I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.”

  Jimmy’d had to revise his plans, quickly. Pa wanted results, and Bobby was the best way to get those results. He had already visited Beth once, to remind her of how alone she was, she and her kid. But they no longer had the time to execute more scare tactics.

  Jimmy’s phone buzzed. It lay next to his beer on the polished wooden bar. He picked it up and read the text from Mike.

  Beth just drove out of the hospital lot.

  Jimmy drained the last of his beer and walked down the bar to where Bobby entertained his crew.

  “Bobby, get your ass off that table, we need to move. Beth Collins is on her way home.”

  “Whooohooo! Maybe this time she’d like a Dexter inside her to keep her warm.” Bobby made an exaggerated leap to the ground to whooping from the imbeciles who followed him.

  “Next sound out of any of you and I’ll cut out your fucking tongue,” Jimmy hissed.

  There were six of them and only one of him. But they shut up.

  “Hey, what’s up, bro.” Bobby bounced as he preceded his brother down the bar to the front door. “We’re about to make Pa very happy, right?”

  “You better hope so. We don’t have as much time as I thought. Pa wants this done in twenty-four hours. So, we need to make this count tonight.”

  “No problem. I got a way to scare her, y’know?” He winked and gave a gutter laugh.

  “You keep your hands off her until I decide to let you off the leash.”

  Jimmy opened the door of his SUV.

  “Get in,” he ordered.

  As Bobby climbed in, Jimmy dialed Mike’s number.

  “Mike, was she alone when she left the hospital?”

  “Saw no one else in her car when she left. She was talking to some guy before she got into the car. Came out of the hospital with him.”

  “What’d he look like?”

  “Tall. Real short hair. Tanned. Like he’d been out in the sun for a week.”

  “Hey, sounds like that cowboy we saw at the auto shop that time,” Bobby interrupted.

  “Head over to the Collinses’ house, will ya? We’ll be there already. Just wait outside.”

  Jimmy hung up. “The guy who gave Dom and Mike a beating?”

  “Yeah. You saw him that time. Two, three days ago when we were trying to collect from Brandon. Came on all John Wayne.”

  Jimmy stared out through the windshield. He remembered the guy. Tough guy. Cop. Jimmy wasn’t going to let him get in the way, though. He reached for his gun, concealed under his leather jacket in a shoulder holster. He checked it was loaded and put it back.

  “You carrying?” he asked Bobby.

  Bobby reached behind to pull his own weapon from the back of his jeans.

  “Locked and loaded,” he grinned.

  “Just for show,” Jimmy warned. “Even fat Joseph couldn’t get us out of a murder charge.”

  “Sure, Jimmy, sure. Can we get going?”

  The contents of the fridge were bewildering. Cade had made himself and Beth some food when they had got home from the hospital. He was confronted with an assortment of leafy, green plants he neither knew the names of nor their use. Plastic tubs contained something that looked like fine rice or very coarse sand. It was yellow, and he recognized raisins in it. There was an array of leftovers, sealed for reheating. He didn’t know how long they had been there o
r even what they were, though most smelled appetizing.

  He decided on eggs, feeling relieved to find some in the fridge door. He got to work. Beth was on the sofa, surfing through the TV. It blared out color and sound from whichever channel she had chosen that played across her blank face.

  “Why don’t you fix us both a drink? I’ll take a beer if there are any.”

  Beth got up, hugging herself. She had picked out one of Brandon’s sweaters from the laundry hamper and put it on.

  “Just a second,” she said in a distant voice.

  Cade hoped the alcohol on top of exhaustion would be enough to knock her out for the night.

  “Oh, are you cooking?”

  “Sure. I can cook.”

  “Since when?”

  “I don’t live off takeout, you know.”

  “News to me. I thought you ate nothing but tacos and chili.”

  “Yeah, but I know how to cook them.”

  Beth laughed. It was a worn-out echo of a real laugh, diluted of its color, but it was laughter. Cade grinned. “And I make good eggs.”

  “Eggs are easy. Everyone can do eggs.”

  “Never claimed it was a unique gift.”

  Another laugh. She produced a bottle of beer from the back of the fridge shelf and opened it for him.

  “Still drink it straight from the bottle?”

  “Sure do.”

  She handed him a Coors and took a bottle of water for herself.

  “Are you not having something? It’ll help you sleep.”

  She gulped at the bottle, downing almost a third in one go. As she wiped her mouth, she shook her head.

  “I had a little problem a while back. It’s better to keep away from it.”

  “A problem? I didn’t know about that.”

  “You do now. It’s nothing major. Not long after we moved here, we were struggling and I had a little too much. God, I haven’t drunk enough today,” she said, taking another long swallow.

  “Well, you know best. This is almost ready. Where d’you keep your plates?”