Dying Truth

by Jay Nadal

  “Second cupboard along, next to the…” Beth trailed off. “What the hell?”

  Cade looked around to see Beth staring at the back door to the yard. He hadn’t noticed it, either, though he should have spotted it. The door was slightly ajar, the wood jamb around the lock splintered and distorted. Someone had forced it open.

  Beth went to reach for the door when Cade stopped her.

  “Don’t touch it.”

  “But someone has forced this.”

  “And they may have left prints.”

  He pulled Beth away from the door. They had been in the house for about ten minutes. Both had been upstairs to use the bathroom. Neither had noticed any sounds or indications of someone else in the house.

  “Stay here. Don’t touch the door. Don’t touch anything,” Cade ordered. “I’ll check the house.”

  “Check it? What for? Oh my god, you think someone might still be here?”

  Cade didn’t reply. He opened a couple of drawers until he found the one he wanted and removed a broad-bladed chef’s knife. He didn’t expect to find anyone. This wasn’t just some housebreaker. It was more terrorism by the Dexters. In the main bedroom, he found a drawer open and several items of Beth’s underwear strewn about the bed. The cop’s instinct told him to touch nothing. But he didn’t want Burford police nosing through his sister’s underwear drawer, especially when they were unlikely to press any charges against the right people. And the last thing Beth needed was to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

  He put the garments back and slid the drawer closed.

  “Anything?” Beth called up.

  “No. No one here and nothing disturbed. Not that I can see.”

  Then came a knock at the front door.

  “Tommy…”

  “I heard it. Stay there.”

  Tommy took the stairs three at a time. The knock came again. It was discreet. Three knocks at a time, almost gentle. Enough to be heard but not enough to wake the neighbors. Beth had armed herself while Tommy was upstairs, spots of color flaring in her cheeks.

  “Stay back, Beth,” Cade warned her.

  “I know who it is. Sons of bitches. They put Brandon in hospital and now… and now…” Her lips were a thin white line, and her eyes were wide and distant.

  “And Madison doesn’t need a mother in jail and a daddy in hospital. Get control of yourself,” Cade ordered firmly.

  Beth’s eyes came back to him. She flung the knife away in horror and gave him a curt nod.

  Cade opened the door.

  28

  “Evening, Mr. Cade,” said Jimmy Dexter.

  He was polite and proper. It made him somehow more offensive. He had no business using civilized manners. Despite his warnings to Beth, Cade struggled not to launch himself for Jimmy’s throat. He kept the knife out of sight behind the door.

  “What do you want?”

  “I have business matters to discuss with Beth. It’s urgent.”

  “Come back tomorrow,” Cade told him, moving to close the door.

  Jimmy put a hand out to it. “Can’t do that. Has to be now. Once we’re done, though, I promise you won’t ever see or hear from me or my family again.”

  “Let him in, Tommy,” Beth told him.

  Jimmy smiled at Beth and then at Cade. The smile deepened as Cade stepped aside. Jimmy came inside. Outside Cade could see Bobby Dexter starting up the driveway from where he had been waiting beside Jimmy’s glossy black SUV.

  “Not him,” Cade said.

  Jimmy spared a glance for his brother. “Fine. Bobby, go back to the car.”

  Jimmy walked into the living room and sat himself on the couch. Cade shut the door on Bobby. He moved to stand in front of Jimmy, who had made himself comfortable, spreading his arms across the back of the sofa. He grinned insolently.

  “Nice place.”

  “Which one of you broke in?” Cade asked.

  He made no attempt to hide the knife but placed it on the mantelpiece behind him.

  “Bobby. On his own initiative. We stopped by earlier, but Beth wasn’t home. I told him not to.”

  “What do you want, Jimmy? We have nothing else you can take. So just make your threats and get out.” Beth growled.

  “I’m not here to collect. Or to threaten. I’m here to end this. I didn’t want Brandon in the hospital any more than you did. And I hope he gets well. I really do. I just came to get your signature on these.”

  He threw down a sheaf of papers onto the coffee table.

  “Deeds. For the auto shop.”

  He produced a pen and placed it atop the papers.

  “Sign and we’re done. For good. We won’t have any reason to bother your family again.”

  “That simple?” Beth’s face and voice were disbelieving.

  “That simple,” confirmed Jimmy.

  “Why? Why do you want it? What is it to you? Don’t you have enough money already? Why have you been doing all of this?” Beth demanded.

  Jimmy shrugged. “I just follow orders, Beth. Pa calls the shots. He says he wants your auto shop, so we go out and take your shop.”

  “It’s in the way,” Cade growled. “Shell’s Ridge closed down when the branch line through Burford got closed down. It cost too much to ship by road. Charlie Biggs told me all about it.”

  Jimmy’s smugness slipped. Eyes without pity were locked onto Cade. His mouth was twisting into a snarl.

  “The old railroad ran through the meadow belonging to some farmer and through the waste ground west of Archer Street and right through the intersection of Willow and Jefferson. The old railroad bridge is still there at the end of Jefferson Street. It’s been boarded up for decades, but it’s still there. And most of the route is still clear except for a few properties. And this was the last one of those you needed to acquire.”

  “Wow, you tell quite a story, Mr. Cade.” Jimmy chuckled. “Quite a story.”

  “I have a list of all the properties the Dexters own through Green Eagle. Didn’t mean much to me until I saw them all laid out on a map. Course, Janger don’t want to pay full market value for those properties, which he’d have to if their owners knew how much he needed the land. So he hired some local scumbags to get it real cheap for him.”

  Jimmy was on his feet, standing toe to toe with Cade.

  “Couldn’t prove any of that, though, could you,” he breathed.

  “Sure could.”

  Jimmy nodded to himself and stepped back. Then he pulled the gun, aimed, and cocked it in one smooth movement.

  “Sign it, Beth. Or I decorate this room with his brains.”

  “Don’t do it, Beth.” Cade held Jimmy’s gaze. He kept his breathing slow and even. He had been here before. Jimmy’s eyes were wide, and his face glistened with sweat. Cade would bet money Jimmy had killed, but not like this. Not face-to-face, stone-cold. There was too much emotion on his face for that.

  “Shoot me. Then shoot Beth. That’s the only way you’re getting what you want, Dexter.” Jimmy’s gun wavered, then dropped slightly. Cade stepped closer until the muzzle pressed against his chest. He pushed closer still, forcing Jimmy to step back. Then again. Jimmy’s legs caught the couch, and for a split second, he looked down. Cade grasped the gun hand with his right hand while his left hit Jimmy’s shoulder. He twisted Jimmy’s arm through a one-eighty and put him on his knees, face in the cushions of the couch. Jimmy’s hand spasmed as Cade pushed the arm upward.

  Cade plucked the gun from Jimmy’s nerveless fingers and ejected the clip, throwing it across the room. He allowed Jimmy to wrench himself free. He came back up, face red and teeth bared. His long, greasy hair hung about his face in disarray like a demonic monster.

  “What? What are you going to do? Huh? Didn’t your old man speak to you, Jimmy? Anything happens to me or mine and the Feds get all the dirt on Green Eagle and SwiftSure. All the tax dodging your dad has been doing. And once he’s in jail for that, how long do you think the good folks of Burford are going to keep quiet about
your protection rackets? Have some sense, son. Walk away.”

  By now, Cade had moved himself so he stood between Jimmy and Beth. He could see the man hanging on to the edges of his control. Cade had allowed the gun to slip in his grasp so he held it by the barrel, ready to use as a blunt instrument. He didn’t think he would need to. He had read Jimmy from the start, capable of violence but not an experienced killer, not yet. Always in control of himself. The trusted lieutenant. Jimmy wouldn’t break the habit of a lifetime and let his rage rule him now. Not with Pa Dexter so close to realizing his deal with Janger.

  The front door flew open and banged against the wall. Bobby stood on the other side, hands still holding to either side of the doorjamb where he had braced himself to kick in the lock.

  “Having trouble, bro?” He stormed into the room, pulling a gun from the back of his pants.

  “Get out,” Jimmy mumbled.

  “Hey, I heard something going down and thought you might need some backup. Has the bitch signed?”

  “Get. Out,” Jimmy repeated, rounding on his brother.

  Bobby’s bravado died under Jimmy’s stare. “What is it, Jimmy? We got the drop on them, don’t we?”

  One moment Bobby held a gun on Cade and the next, Bobby was on the floor and the gun was in Jimmy’s hand, pointed at Bobby.

  “Get out,” was all Jimmy said. But his finger was on the trigger.

  Bobby looked on the verge of tears. “Jeez, man. Okay. I’m going. I was only trying to help.”

  He scrambled back on his hands and heels, and then regained his feet. He kicked over a small table next to the door as he went. Jimmy turned back to Cade.

  “This ain’t over, cowboy.”

  “You’re right. But it soon will be.”

  Then Jimmy was gone. He strode down the drive and got into the SUV. Seconds later it screeched away up the street.

  Cade took a deep breath and then slumped against the back of the sofa, adrenaline stiffening his body. The phone rang. Beth stood against the wall, hands clutching Brandon’s sweater to her, head back against the wall.

  “Tommy. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Her lips trembled as she spoke.

  Cade went to her. “I meant what I said. I can end this. But that’s going to be a damn sight easier if I know you, Brandon, and Maddie are safe and out of the Dexters’ reach. I saw motels out on that road the hospital is on.”

  “It’s the I-93” Beth murmured.

  “Right. It’s out of town, and the Dexters would have to be looking for a while before they caught up with you there. Look, whoever that is, they really want to talk to you. Do you wanna…?” He indicated the phone, still demanding attention.

  Beth picked it up.

  “Hello. Yes, I’m Beth Collins. Yes. What’s happened? He’s…”

  There were no more words. The phone fell from Beth’s hands. She stared into space, mouth slack. Her hands reached for her mouth, and a terrible, muffled keening came from behind them. Cade picked up the phone where a voice was saying “Hello” repeatedly. He spoke to the voice for a few seconds and got the message. He said nothing else but cut off the call and dropped the phone. Cade pulled Beth to him.

  “No! It’s a mistake. It can’t be true. They’ve got him mixed up with someone else. He wasn’t badly injured, Tommy. No, Tommy, you don’t understand. He isn’t dead. He can’t be dead. Please, tell me he can’t be dead.”

  She fought like a wildcat. Beth punched and kicked at him. She screamed incoherently, slapping him. Cade took it. With gentle, remorseless pressure, he pulled her back into his embrace, tightening his arms around her.

  “He is, Beth. He’s gone,” was all he said.

  The rest of the night passed in a blur. Cade drove Beth back to the hospital. Brandon had been moved to a side room, the machinery removed. He looked peaceful, except for the injuries that marred his face. He could have been asleep. Beth had spent time with him. Cade had left her in the room and closed the door, unable to bear his sister’s heart-wrenching sobs. Alone in the corridor, he pressed his head against the wall, slamming his fist against his other palm with mounting pressure. He welcomed the pain.

  “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it,” he whispered repeatedly.

  Memories of Ellie flooded him as he fought to push them from his mind. A pulse throbbed in his neck. His breathing was hard and short. He needed to hold it together for Beth. They both couldn’t break down. The feeling of triumph he had felt earlier had gone. It all seemed so childish now, a game he had been playing with the Dexters while Brandon lay here dying. His teeth gritted and he refused to let tears cloud his eyes.

  “No. No. No. Hold it together. Be strong,” he muttered, as his fists clenched tighter.

  The despair rose in a tide he couldn’t resist. It flowed over his defenses. He reached deep down to the anger that had never left him. The anger he had learned to keep in check, to use when he needed it. The anger ignited by Donnie Martins, the man who had called himself his father. This wasn’t a game. This was a war. Brandon was dead. One life ended and two more devastated. The Dexters had just struck at his family. Cade would hit back.

  Later, he guided Beth through the formalities that the hospital required. The forms to be completed, the permissions given. A doctor with a tired but compassionate face pressed a prescription into Cade’s hands.

  “For Beth. You can fill it at the hospital pharmacy. I strongly advise her to take it, and if you need it…I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Cade took it and got it filled. Beth took the sedatives dry as she sat in the car, forcing them down. By the time they reached the house, she had fallen asleep. Cade kept the sedatives in his pocket. He didn’t need any.

  29

  The following morning, Beth surprised him. She had risen early, making coffee and toast. She took the coffee but left the toast for Cade. He had fallen asleep on an easy chair in the living room.

  “Get yourself a shower and get changed out of that ridiculous shirt, Tommy,” Beth told him.

  For a moment he wondered if he had dreamed the previous night. But the small plastic bottle of sedatives was still in his jeans.

  “Beth, are…”

  “Don’t ask me, Tommy. Please. I must hold it together for Maddie. I can fall apart when she’s fast asleep, but not before. This morning I have to pick her up from Laura and tell her. I don’t know how I’m going to do that.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No. What I want you to do is… whatever it is you have to do to sort this out. You were trying to tell me something at the hospital. If you think you can fix this, then do it. I will not sign their papers. I will not help them pretend they’re anything but fucking savages. If I sign, we have nothing. If I don’t, we still have nothing. So what difference does it make?”

  A note of hysteria crept into Beth’s voice as she bit off her words.

  “I’m sorry, Tommy. I can’t talk. Not for long. I can hold it together until I have to talk to someone about it and then…” Tears welled in her eyes, and she angrily rubbed them away. “Fuck. I need to go. I made you toast.”

  She grabbed her jacket, purse, and keys, slamming the broken door behind her.

  Cade took out his phone. Beth was right. Time to move. He dialed Rissa. The call went to voicemail.

  “Rissa, Tommy. I need your help. Things have gotten serious here. Brandon, Beth’s husband, is dead. Beth could be next. I have the number of a Professor Zachary Clarke of Boston College. He’s an environmental campaigner, part of an anti-fracking movement, and he’s got information on NorEl’s projects which you could use. Find out everything you can about him, and then call him. He needs what we have, and you need what he has. This story needs to be out there. I’m sorry, Rissa; it may be too dangerous to put your name on the byline. Here’s his number.” Cade read out Clarke’s number from the card he had. “Call him.”

  He hung up. Another call had been coming through while he was speaking to Rissa’s me
ssage service. He picked it up.

  “Yeah.”

  “Cade. This is Nate from Burford PD. The chief is on his way over to Brandon and Beth’s looking for you.”

  “Why? What have I done now?”

  “Someone attacked Charlie Biggs last night. Shots were reported at around eight-thirty. They found him unconscious, with head injuries. I think he had suffered a heart attack, too. They’ve taken him to Flint County General.”

  “He’s alive.” It was a statement, not a question. Cade didn’t want to contemplate the thought of Charlie dead. Another victim.

  “He’s alive. But the chief got an anonymous tip, that you stole Charlie’s car after an argument with him.”

  “No, he loaned me his car to get to the hospital. Any number of nurses and CCTV cameras can prove where I was.”

  “Look. I don’t know how much either one of us has, so just let me say this. I got a call from the County Coroner’s office with the forensics from Brandon’s assault. You remember that wrench we found.”

  “It’s Jimmy Dexter?”

  “No. Bobby Dexter. They found DNA on the wrench. Saliva. He may have spat on Brandon after he attacked him. Some of it got on the wrench. You know I shouldn’t be telling you any of this but… what happened to Brandon wasn’t right. And what the chief is doing isn’t right.”

  “Nate. You should know—” Cade began.

  “I already know, man. I went up to the hospital early this morning to check on Charlie Biggs. While there, I asked after Brandon, and they told me he… Man, I knew Brandon ten years.”

  “Nate. I need you on my side. Harness that anger for me. Did you find anything at Charlie’s place? Was it you that went to the scene?”

  “Yeah, it was me. But when the chief found out what had happened, he took me off the case. He’s gunning for you personally.”

  “I can handle the chief. What did you find? If it was Jimmy, there won’t be any evidence. If it was Bobby…”

  “I found a shotgun. Blood on the stock. It was the weapon used to attack him. I’m going to take it up to County myself. If they find anything, I’ll go to a judge and get an arrest warrant for Bobby Dexter.”