Echoes of the Fall

by Hank Early

  Claire reached for my hand, squeezed it. “She wasn’t the one, huh?”

  “No.”

  “What made you think she was?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Claire grinned at me. “I hate when things are complicated. Things don’t have to be complicated.”

  “What are you talking about.”

  “Let’s go somewhere. Somewhere private and I’ll show you.”

  She was clearly coming on to me. I felt intrigued. Not so much by the possibility of sex. Well, that was intriguing, but what was even more intriguing was Claire. This was a side of her I hadn’t seen.

  “And you never told me about Harriet,” she said. “Where you found her.”

  She tightened her grip on my hand. The night seemed to darken and tilt. I was in freefall again. I was dying. I was in the creek, looking up. I was in the gorge, climbing. At the top I saw Claire’s face.

  “Hey,” she said. “I’m serious. Let’s go.”

  I wasn’t sure what was happening. The red cooler was a coincidence, a red herring, nothing more. I looked around and saw all I needed for confirmation. The remaining Hill brother stood on the porch, watching us closely. Even Joe had been to the bookstore where Claire worked before coming to see me. Hell, he’d probably been bringing me the bookmark so I’d be sure to know where to find her. Everything snapped into focus. The unseen visitor in the bookstore when I’d first met Claire had to have been one of her sons. And hadn’t I also spotted one of them lurking around the coffee shop when we’d met not too long ago?

  I looked away quickly, pretending not to notice him.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s walk.”

  She squeezed my hand and nestled herself against my right side. “Where are we going?”

  “I know a place,” I said. “It’s where I learned about living and dying.”

  * * *

  We walked up the mountain and down an old trail I remembered exploring as a kid. I knew the trail would eventually lead us to Backslide Gap, the same place where I’d almost killed myself during my misery binge after Mary ended things with me.

  No, I reminded myself. Mary hadn’t ended the relationship. I’d done that when I decided to take comfort in the bed of another woman. I cringed, thinking about what I’d done and how I’d also misjudged Daphne. I’d confused her need for sex with a need for pain. Ultimately, she was just a female version of me. And now I was holding the hand of the real sociopath, a woman who I had also severely misjudged. I wanted to let go, to wipe my hands on my jeans, but that would have broken the spell. I couldn’t afford to let that happen.

  “Where are we going?” she asked again.

  “I know a place not too far from here.” I squeezed her hand. “You’ll like it.”

  She smiled, but I could tell she wasn’t sure what to think. She was trying to read the situation, trying to determine if I knew who she really was. My job was to make sure she thought I was oblivious, to make her feel overconfident, like she was still the one in the know, the one in the position of power. Meanwhile, I had to hope she actually wasn’t. As we walked, I continued to watch the trail behind us for signs of her one remaining son. I didn’t see him, but I knew better than to draw any confidence from that.

  “I can’t believe you found Harriet,” she said, fishing.

  “She’s doing great,” I said, not missing a beat.

  “Is she hidden in a cave somewhere?”

  “Somewhere,” I murmured.

  “That’s not very specific.”

  “Let’s not talk shop.” I stopped, reached for her shoulders, and turned her until we were facing each other. I leaned in and kissed her neck. She shivered slightly, giggling.

  “I’ve been waiting for that,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t always read the signs.”

  “And you call yourself a detective.”

  I laughed, playing along.

  She reached for my groin.

  “You’re not hard,” she said, disappointed.

  “Well, shit. Give me a minute.”

  But I was just buying time. As attractive as she was physically, learning what I’d learned about her made it difficult for me to become aroused.

  But Claire wasn’t patient. That was something we seemed to have in common.

  She dropped to her knees and unzipped my blue jeans, working my penis through the opening at the front of my briefs. It was still flaccid.

  She looked at it, disappointed. “Let’s see if we can work on this a little bit.” She shrugged her purse from her shoulder, and when it hit the ground, I noticed the gleam of metal in the moonlight. A gun. All it would take was for her to get me wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment, and she’d be able to grab it and shoot me. We were far away from the bar now, far away from nearly everything. She took me in her mouth, murmuring, as if she’d never done anything before that brought her as much pleasure as what she was doing to me right now. She was the consummate actor, and somehow, feeling her mouth on me, listening to the murmuring noises she made as she eagerly worked on me, I overcame my disgust with her and was aroused.

  “There he is,” she said. “Now, close your eyes and just enjoy it. This one is on me. We can get you going again when we reach wherever it is you’re taking me.”

  I pushed her head back gently. “I don’t think so. Save it. The place we’re going is special.” I took a chance. “It’s dangerous. You like dangerous, don’t you?”

  She grinned and nodded. “Okay, just as long as you let me finish what I started when we get there.”

  “Of course.” I zipped up and took her hand, helping her to her feet.

  “I like danger,” she said, “but I’m not an exhibitionist. I want to be somewhere private.”

  “This place is the most private in the world.” There could be no doubt what she was planning now. Had there ever been? All along, I’d believed she’d been planning for this moment. Why hadn’t I seen it before? She wasn’t an amateur detective. She was a psychopath trying to find her sister.

  As we walked, I decided to take another chance. It was a big one, but if I didn’t try it, I’d risk having our confrontation without getting any of the information I needed.

  “I heard a rumor.”

  “You did?” She seemed genuinely curious, but I couldn’t dismiss the possibility it was all part of the act.

  “Yeah. Just a rumor. You know how those things go. Maybe nothing to it.”

  “Well, what did you hear?”

  “I heard that you and Randy Harden used to see each other.”

  The pressure on my hand shifted slightly. If uncertainty was something you could feel through a person’s hand, I felt it. She was waiting for more, for the other shoe to drop. I confess, I let the moment linger, savoring it. It was still too early to lay all my cards out, though, so I held the other shoe back for a little longer.

  “My buddy Ronnie said he saw the two of you together. He’s a little bit of a loose cannon, so maybe he was mistaken. He said, ‘Hey, Earl, I saw your bookstore woman, Claire, out with Randy Harden the other night.’ Pissed me off a little. I mean, that you’d never mentioned it when you knew I was investigating his school.”

  She let go of my hand. I turned, watching her, ready for her to make a sudden move to her purse, but she didn’t. Instead she stood on her tiptoes and kissed me hard.

  “I think your friend is mistaken. I was dating a man a while back. Must have looked like Harden.” She grabbed my crotch. “I’ll tell you one thing, none of the men I’ve dated have anything on you.”

  I moaned, playing the part.

  She slipped out of my arms, and I kept my eye on her. The purse stayed on her shoulder. “Want me to carry that for you?”

  “No thanks. I hate when men carry their woman’s purse. It’s such a turn-off.”

  We walked some more. The landscape changed slightly as we neared the gap. The ground rose sharply beneath our feet, steeper with each step, while the bra
nches of the trees above us twisted together, creating a false ceiling and the sense we were in our own private world, sheltered from the sky and its vastness. The path narrowed, growing more rocky, and I remembered hearing Rufus’s story about his mother and how as a girl she’d been up here near Backslide Gap, watching Rufus’s aunt, who was born with water on the brain. She’d been sitting near the swinging bridge and had lost track of the sister because she was focused on a boy she liked. The girl had fallen to her death, and Rufus’s mother had lived the rest of her life with that seed of hard regret buried inside her heart. It had bloomed there, blowing the pain outward like exploding glass.

  As the dark gap came into view, I believed I saw the young girl standing beside the swinging bridge, her form translucent and shiny, generating light where none should be, a star stolen from the sky but still burning. And I understood she would never stop burning until there was no one to hold her in their heart anymore. Until someone forgot or at least let go.

  “Oh,” Claire murmured when I clicked on the penlight to illuminate the dark scar running through the mountains, the slender and shaky bridge strung across the scar.

  I aimed the light on the bridge. “I dare you.”

  “What, to go out there?”

  “Yeah. All by yourself.”

  “It won’t be fun without you.”

  “Well, if you went out there naked, I might be persuaded to follow you.”

  She grabbed my hand. “No, we go together.” She started to pull me toward the suspension bridge, but I stopped short.

  “You’re not taking your purse, are you?”

  “I got protection in it. For you.”

  “I brought my own,” I said.

  “Well, look at you, Mr. Prepared. I might want a cigarette after,” she said, holding it close to her.

  “I didn’t know you were a smoker.”

  “Lots you don’t know about me.”

  We stepped to the bridge. “Ladies first,” I said.

  “I’m scared. You go and let me hold on to you.”

  I’d had a feeling that was coming. “Okay. Grab my waist with both hands.”

  She did as I instructed, and I stepped out onto the bridge. It wobbled, and I held onto the ropes on either side. As long as both of her hands were on my waist, she couldn’t shoot me. And I didn’t believe she was strong enough to throw me over the side.

  We were about a third of the way out when I decided to begin.

  “Do you know Rufus?”

  “Of course. He’s your friend.”

  “But do you know him? I remember when you brought him up, I’d never mentioned him to you before.”

  “Oh, I doubt that. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

  “Really? I was sure you two knew each other.”

  “No, but you’re starting to scare me a little bit.”

  I laughed. “You scared of heights?”

  “Just smart. I don’t see how we’ll do it out here. It’s so shaky.”

  “Oh, I’ve done it with lots of women out here. You’re in front …” I turned and put my arms on her shoulders to slide her past me, but she stiffened.

  “I’m ready to go back.”

  “Well, shit. That’s no fun.” I turned all the way around now, facing her, my hands still on the ropes, hers on my waist. “But I understand. Go on back. I’m going to hang out here for a little bit. It’s the only damn place you can see the sky.”

  “Okay,” she said, and I made myself remember the way she’d done Harriet when she was only nine, locking her in the cellar. I thought of what she’d done to Rufus, and what she’d do to me if given the chance. I thought of the way she’d treated her own sons, abandoning them, making them fend for themselves like dogs. I thought of what I had to do, and how I had to do it right now.

  She turned away from me and her hands found the ropes. I retrieved the penlight from my pocket, holding on with one hand tightly because the suspension bridge was wobbling more than usual. Our movements were out of sync now.

  I held the light up and saw she’d barely moved. I still had time. With a lunge, I could grab her. Still, I hesitated.

  Maybe it was because she was a woman. I’d never raised a hand in violence toward a female before. It was one of the few things in life that truly seemed forbidden to me. Not only that, it felt unnatural, like something I couldn’t fully comprehend.

  She was too far away now. I’d have to go after her and risk alerting her. She’d have to get the gun, but maybe …

  I reached into my jacket and pressed record on the mini recorder.

  I stepped forward, holding on with one hand, aiming the flashlight with the other.

  She stopped. A hand left the rope and dug into her purse. She spun around, shaking the bridge wildly. We both careened to one side, and I dropped the penlight.

  Somehow I still saw the gun, a dark bird wheeling madly through the night. She got it level, under control, just as I lunged hard against the rope, rocking the bridge and sending us sideways.

  The gun went off, and the echoes of its retort coursed through the gap with a thousand tiny answers.

  Time to let go, they seemed to say. Time to let go.

  Her body landed on mine, and I held on with my right hand and grabbed at her with my left hand, snagging a large clump of her hair. The rest of her rolled off me and out into open space. Her weight tipped mine, and together we twisted the bridge over on itself. I held onto the rope with my right hand and her hair with my left. The rest of us hung in the gap.

  Above us, I felt the moon come out from behind the clouds, as if awaking from a long sleep, pleased to find the drama unfolding beneath its solemn gaze.

  65

  “Please help me,” she said. Her voice was cracked and strained with pain and fear and something else, something I believed was indignation. It was as if she couldn’t fathom how all of this had happened. There would be no remorse, no regret from her, I reminded myself.

  “I want to help you,” I said, “but first you have to tell me the truth.”

  “I’ll tell you anything.”

  “Where’s Rufus?”

  “I don’t know. God, he escaped, okay?”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Fuck you. It’s true. Please, you’re not a killer.”

  “I’ve been reborn,” I said. “I can be whatever I want to be.”

  “Be a savior,” she said.

  “I’ve already done that.”

  She whimpered. “It hurts so bad.”

  “Tell me where Rufus is.”

  “I don’t know. The day before the shootout, he escaped. My boys chased him. He fell off the ridge. He’s probably dead. But I don’t have him.”

  “Which ridge?”

  “Right by the door. He rolled down the hill, stood up, and walked off the ridge. He’s dead.”

  I believed her. “What about Jeb Walsh? I need to know if he killed that kid.”

  “What kid?”

  “The one who jumped at the falls.”

  “He had him killed.”

  “Who did it? Who pushed him?”

  “It was one of his thugs.”

  “I don’t believe that. I’m getting tired of holding you. All I need is to think you’re lying one time, and you get to take the fall.”

  “Okay, I pushed him. It was me. But I only did it because he made me.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Reach up and grab my wrist with both hands.” She did as I told her, and I let go of her hair.

  She groaned. “Thank you.”

  “Now, how does the dead boy fit in? The one in my yard? What’s Joe’s connection?”

  Somehow, against all odds, she laughed. “Joe? You mean the queer? I had a good time talking to his boyfriend. You should talk to him.”

  “I want to hear it from you, or I’m going to drop you.” I pulled my arm up, causing her hands to slip down my wrist toward my hand.

  “Please,” she said. “Don’t let me fall.�
��

  “You’d better talk quick, then.”

  “He went to the Harden School. He wanted to hire you to help him find me. I guess he got his wish after all.”

  “Who killed him?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  “Your boys?”

  She grimaced. “Yeah. Pull me up, okay?”

  “Who told them to do it?”

  “Me,” she said. “Blevins didn’t like it, but he’s a queer too. I tried to tell Randy not to hire him. Pull me up and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “You can tell me as you fall,” I said, and tried again to pull my arm away from her, but she was too strong. She held on, even reaching for my elbow with one clawlike hand. Her other hand followed, and then she was squeezing my bicep and reaching for my shoulder. I used my now free hand to reach for her face. I placed my palm over her eyes and slid it down against her nose, smashing it nearly flat. There was a crack of cartilage, maybe bone, and then she screamed. But she didn’t let go. I pushed her head back, bending her neck unnaturally.

  “If you let me up,” she gasped, “I’ll tell you how to bring down Jeb. I know … all … his … secrets.”

  One of her hands slipped and I shrugged her other hand off my shoulder, and for a moment I was free of her weight. But only for a moment. I felt her grab my shirt now. The fabric tore, a loud hissing sound that filled the gap. Her hands scrambled for my belt, and she dug her fingers underneath it.

  Before I had time to follow up on what she’d said about Jeb’s secrets, the moon reemerged from the silk clouds and I saw a man standing on the other side of the gap, holding a rifle. He was tall and lean and still. The rifle bucked in his hands and the night shook. The suspension bridge exploded into bits of rotted wood and fibers of rope. The knuckles on my right hand felt hot and then hotter. Finally, the pain came. I let go, keeping only my left hand on the rope.

  I was only dimly aware of Savanna as she climbed up me again and shouted for her one remaining son to kill me.

  66

  He certainly tried to do just that. The rifle coughed and sputtered bullets, spraying them everywhere. I felt them whiz past my head, my torso, and one hit the bottom of my boot heel as it dangled over the gap.