‘That’s stealing,’ Johnny Mac said.
‘I’ll take everything back when we’re through! Jeez, Kovak! You accusing me of being a thief or something?’ Josh said, a mad look on his face.
‘No, I didn’t mean that—’ Johnny Mac started, but Josh cut him off.
‘Look, Kovak, you don’t have to play. Go back to your mommy, OK? Let the rest of us have some fun. I doubt you’d be very good at this anyway. Probably get caught before you get out of the store!’
‘I would not!’ Johnny Mac said. ‘I can do this!’
‘Well, then,’ Josh said, ‘pick your store!’
Johnny Mac picked the first one, not even seeing what kind of store it was.
Walking in, he wished he’d paid attention. He didn’t know what to do in a jewelry store.
Milt – Day Three
After three stores, Mike and I ended up at the nearest bar with a wide-screen TV and ESPN while the women did their thing. I can only ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ so long before I get a headache, know what I mean?
I knew Mike and Vern Weaver were partners in a tool and dye shop, so I hadn’t really brought it up, not wanting him asking me what I did for a living. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t want that particular cat out of the bag. Like a doctor getting asked about imaginary ailments, a peace officer can get lots of people asking questions and trying to involve that peace officer in things that were basically none of his business. Like family squabbles. And if I knew anything at all about Mike Tulia, it was the fact that he’d have me refereeing a fight between him and Lucy in a New York minute. But, unfortunately, there’s only so much you can do.
‘So, Milt, what do you do for a living?’ Mike asked about five minutes after we sat down. ESPN was playing a retrospective of the Texas/Oklahoma rivalry over the last forty-odd years. Now that’s something I coulda gotten into.
I sighed. ‘I’m in law enforcement,’ I said, hedging my bets.
‘Yeah? What do you do?’ Damned if he wasn’t going to make me spell it out.
‘I’m the sheriff of a county in Oklahoma,’ I said.
‘No shit?’ Mike said. ‘Man, I’ve always wanted to do that. Have your own little fiefdom, huh? How cool is that?’
‘Very,’ I said. Then, changing the subject, I asked, ‘So how long have you and Vern been partners?’
‘About ten years. I was working in oilfield supply, used to call on Vern, then the bottom fell out of that and I needed a job. Had some 401K to transfer, bought up half of Vern’s business. He needed the cash and I needed a job.’ He took a long pull on his beer. ‘That old boy’s made me a millionaire – on paper, anyway. Only drawback is, in sales, I used to get an eyeful of some lush tush here and there, but shit, haven’t seen a woman in our shop since that bowlegged postal lady got a new route.’ He held up his hands in a stopping motion. ‘Not that I ever did anything about it! Looking’s one thing, touching is a whole nuther ball of wax.’
‘Yeah, I hear ya,’ I said, glad for the new subject. ‘That’s a headache I don’t want to ever get near. ’Sides, who’d take a chance on losing everything – wife, kids, house, money, everything – for a piece of ass?’
‘Huh,’ Mike said, nursing a beer and staring at the wide-screen TV. ‘That’s a good point. Never thought about it like that. I just never did it because Lucy would put lye in my food if she caught me.’
‘Seriously?’
‘You should hear her daddy’s deep and gravelly voice,’ Mike said, looking at me and wiggling his eyebrows.
‘Shit,’ I said, finding a new respect for Lucy – and her mother.
Johnny Mac – Day Three
Johnny Mac could barely see into the jewelry cases, and what he could see all looked like diamonds! Millions of diamonds! He gulped in air, thinking about the prison they’d put him in if he eventried to take one of these million-dollar diamonds! If they didn’t just shoot him! Oh, crap, he thought, what have I gotten myself into? He felt the tears at the back of his eyes. Stop! He told himself. Get a grip! That’s what Daddy always said. Count to ten and get a grip. So he did. He counted to ten and he gripped his hands together behind his back. No way he could get at those diamonds if his hands were behind his back, he thought.
Even if Josh was going to return everything, Johnny Mac wasn’t sure these store people, or the police, would believe that. He turned and looked out the window. Janna was already back and handing something to Josh. And then, there was Early, pulling something out of his T-shirt! Early did it! OMG, Johnny Mac thought. If Early did it, then I have to do it too!
Johnny Mac turned again and looked at the display cases. They opened from the back and that’s where the store people were. The grown-ups in here were asking to see this and that and the store people would open the case and pull something out and let the person hold it. Would they do that for him? And then what? Just run out the door with it? They’d be after him in a heartbeat! No way. Then he saw a whole display case with no one behind it. The only thing on top was a ballpoint pen. Johnny Mac grabbed it and ran.
Meanwhile, Back In Prophesy County
Emmett stopped for lunch at the Longbranch Inn, a hotel/mostly restaurant where he and Jasmine had spent their first married night, and where he and Milt had been eating lunch together for over twenty years. Loretta, who may have come to Oklahoma in a covered wagon with the pioneers who settled Longbranch, was his usual waitress, but he was a little afraid to sit in her section today, for fear she’d ask about Milt’s vacation. How could he tell her that Milt found the ship’s food to be even better than that at the Longbranch? He couldn’t. But if he sat at another waitress’s table, how would he explain that?
He took a chance she wouldn’t ask after Milt and sat in Loretta’s section.
‘Hey, Emmett,’ she said, bringing him his usual glass of iced sweet tea with a water chaser, and a basket of melt-in-your-mouth yeast rolls. ‘How’s Milt liking his vacation?’
Well, there it was. She hadn’t wasted much time on that! He wanted to say, ‘just fine,’ or even, ‘real good.’ Instead he said, ‘He likes the food on the ship more’n he likes the food here.’
It came out real fast and then he just sat there, trying real hard not to make eye contact with Loretta.
‘Don’t I know it!’ she said. ‘My sister Lucile and me went on that Alaskan cruise one time, couple years ago, and the food was to die for! I hope Jean’s just letting him go for it and not trying to keep him on one of her crazy diets!’ Emmett finally found her face and saw her smiling. He smiled back. ‘What’ll it be?’ she asked.
‘Usual,’ he said, and sat back in relief.
The thing was, Loretta, who didn’t approve of diets, was a big woman, as tall as she was big, with a short temper when it came to anyone dissing the Longbranch Inn, Longbranch itself, Prophesy County, the State of Oklahoma, or the good ol’ US of A.
It wasn’t that he was exactly afraid of her, so much as he had a healthy respect for the parts of his body she could reach while he was sitting down.
It didn’t take long for her to bring out his chicken-fried steak with cream gravy, French fries and fried okra. Manna of the gods.
He thought he’d wait until school let out at three-fifteen before tackling either the principal at the Christian school (Darby Hunt’s girlfriend) or Beth Atkins at the high school (Hunt’s daughter). So after wiping his face, taking a last long drag of his iced sweet tea and leaving a generous tip for Loretta, Emmett headed to David McDaniel’s house, him being the older brother of Cheryl Hunt.
He’d called Dave’s place of business first, a paint and body shop over off Highway 5, that had the contract for repairs on the squad cars when Emmett had been police chief, and found Dave had taken the day off. Since he owned the place, Emmett figured he had that prerogative.
Dave, his wife Brittany, and his last-at-home child Emma, age twelve, lived only a couple of blocks from his sister Lisa’s house. The McDaniel house was a nice size, as befit a family of two parents and
three kids. Two stories, with a one-story wing on the right that made the house look sort of crooked. That one wing, Emmett figured, had been an add-on.
Dave McDaniel opened the door before Emmett even knocked. ‘Hey, Emmett. Figured you were coming to see me next,’ he said, opening the door wide and ushering him in. McDaniel held out his hand and Emmett shook it. ‘Long time no see,’ McDaniel said.
‘Been a while, Dave. How’s Stevie doing?’ Emmett said, asking after Dave’s eldest son who had done a short stint as a patrolman for the LPD (Longbranch Police Department) before heading up to the state troopers.
‘Keeps getting them promotions,’ Dave said. ‘Won’t be long before he’s in charge of Oklahoma.’
Emmett smiled, then sobered. ‘Dave, the reason I’m here—’
‘Yeah, Lisa called. Come on in the den.’
The front door opened into a foyer with a huge family room straight ahead, a large dining room to his left and a smallish formal living room to his right. Dave led him into the family room. To the left was a large open-plan kitchen, separated from the family room by a bar with barstools. The furnishings were plain and sturdy, as befitted a houseful of kids, mostly boys. A woman was in the kitchen with her back to them.
‘Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age,’ Dave said, indicating Emmett take an easy chair while he took the couch. ‘Honey!’ he called toward the kitchen, ‘Emmett’s here.’
Emmett had never met Dave’s wife; theirs had not been that kind of relationship. And Emmett’s wife back then, Shirley Beth, had been a recluse, a secret drinker, truth be told, which kept Emmett’s socializing down to the bare minimum. Emmett still found it hard to think about her killing herself with his service revolver. That had been a bad time. Real bad.
The woman who came out of the kitchen took Emmett’s breath away. She was medium height: not big but not little either. Her hair was dark brown with some gray showing, and when she smiled at him he couldn’t help smiling back. All that was nice enough, but it was her eyes. Huge, like one of those dumb pictures of cats, and turquoise, with black lashes longer than any mascara ad could claim. They sparkled and danced with light and he thought if the lady ever went into hypnotism, she could do a hell of a lot of damage.
‘Emmett, my wife, Brittany. Brit, this is Emmett Hopkins. We worked together when he was police chief, but you’re with the sheriff now, right?’
Emmett nodded, dragging his eyes away from Dave’s wife’s turquoise ones. ‘That’s right. Head deputy, but the sheriff’s out of town, so I’m more or less acting sheriff at the moment.’
Brittany shook his hand and beamed a bright smile his way. ‘I hear you’re here to give us the good news that somebody awesome killed that rotten son-of-a-bitch Hunt!’
‘Well, ma’am, I don’t know about awesome. He coulda hit Hunt’s mama instead,’ Emmett said.
The grin never leaving her face, she said, ‘Well, hell, Acting Sheriff, that would have been awesome too!’
‘OK, Brit,’ Dave said, putting his arm around his wife’s waist and encouraging her to sit down next to him. He nodded at Emmett and he too took his seat. ‘Thing is, Emmett, Hunt’s mama’s been calling us every few years, every time the asshole was up for parole, asking us to stay home and not protest his release, and when we showed up anyway she’d then call us for weeks on end afterwards, saying awful things, and she didn’t give a good goddam who answered the phone – me, Brit or one of the kids. And the woman could cuss like a sailor.’
‘It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where Darby Hunt got his charm!’ Brittany said.
‘Well, Dave, I’m sorry, but I gotta ask y’all where you were last night,’ Emmett said.
Dave nodded. ‘No problem. I understand. Brittany and me were here watching TV until, what, honey? Ten, ten-thirty?’
‘Something like that,’ Brittany said. ‘And Emma, our youngest, was here, too. But she’s twelve and has a nine-thirty bedtime. So she was probably asleep and wouldn’t know if Dave and I slipped out to go kill Darby Hunt.’
‘Honey!’ Dave said.
Brittany laughed. ‘I’m kidding! Emmett knows I’m kidding, don’t you, Emmett?’
‘I assumed as much,’ Emmett said. ‘I know you got some older kids—’
‘Two boys,’ she said. ‘All grown now. And you know our oldest! You were Stevie’s boss when he worked here in Longbranch!’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Emmett said.
‘He spoke very highly of you, Acting Sheriff Hopkins,’ she said.
Emmett couldn’t tell if the ‘acting sheriff’ business was a jab or sincere. He was hoping for sincere. To get back to business and his eyes off Mrs McDaniel’s dancing ones, he said, ‘Your other son – he’s living here in town?’
‘You want to know if one of my boys killed Darby Hunt?’ Brittany McDaniel asked. ‘Only Stevie would even have reason to think about it. He’s the only one who knew his Aunt Cheryl. And he and Beth, Cheryl’s daughter, were really close. He was five when Cheryl was killed and he heard talk. I think all that might be why he went into law enforcement. And besides, he lives in Oklahoma City and it’s been two weeks since he’s been home. Grady was just a baby when Cheryl was killed, but of course he knew about it. But Grady’s not the type to go killing anybody, even though he lives here in Longbranch. Well, outside Longbranch, actually.’ She laughed. ‘In your actual jurisdiction! I take it you’re not in your jurisdiction now, right, Deputy?’
He noticed acutely the change from ‘acting sheriff’ to ‘deputy.’
‘No, ma’am, I’m not, but Police Chief Charlie Smith knows I’m here, ma’am, so everything is copacetic,’ Emmett said.
‘Well, Emmett,’ Dave said, ‘much as I hate to admit it, my boy Grady’s a knee-jerk pinko liberal who don’t even own a gun and never shot one since I made him try when he was ten. Didn’t take to it then, and I doubt he’d take to it now. Chances are real good Grady might think, wrongly, I know, that old Darby Hunt’d been rehabilitated up there at the Oklahoma Penitentiary. ’Course, the boy’s wrong at least every four years or so.’
‘I’d still like to talk to him,’ Emmett said.
Dave and Brittany McDaniel shared a look, then Brittany got up and went into the kitchen where she wrote something on a slip of paper and brought it to Emmett. ‘Here you go, Deputy. This is Grady’s address. When you throw him in jail please be gentle – he has a trick knee.’
‘Brit,’ said David, his tone one of exasperation.
‘I’m just kidding, honey,’ she said, looking at Emmett with those turquoise eyes. They didn’t dance so much at that moment, more like icy heat boring a hole through his soul. She turned and sat back down next to her husband.
Emmett stood up. ‘Well, thank you, folks. I appreciate your time.’
Both Dave and Brittany McDaniel stood up. ‘I’ll see you out,’ Dave said, patting Emmett on the back.
‘Nice to meet you, Acting Sheriff Hopkins,’ Brittany said, still standing by the sofa.
Emmett turned and smiled. ‘You, too, ma’am,’ he said, more than ready to get away from those turquoise eyes.
He was in his car, heading for his next interview, when he got a call on his cell phone. Seeing that it was the shop, he said, ‘Hey, Holly.’
‘Sorry, Emmett,’ came Dalton Pettigrew’s slow-talking voice. ‘It’s me, Dalton.’
‘OK, well, hey, Dalton. What’s up?’
‘Ah, you coming in anytime soon?’ Dalton asked.
‘I’ve got some more interviews about this Darby Hunt mess. You need me?’
‘Yeah, I heard about Darby Hunt. Huh. Well, I gotta tell you something. You driving?’
Exasperated, as he usually was with any discussion with Dalton lasting more than two sentences, he said, ‘Yes, Dalton, I’m driving! What the hell is it?’
‘I think you need to pull over, Emmett, is all I’m saying.’
There was a strip mall in front of him. Emmett pulled into it and cut the engine. ‘OK, Dalton,
I’m all yours. I pulled off the road and cut the engine. What do you want?’
‘Well, I didn’t see you yesterday, so I couldn’t tell you in person, and I wanted to tell you right away, in person, but you aren’t here again today, so—’
‘Dalton, if you don’t spit it out I’m going to hang up,’ Emmett said.
‘Well, I was somewhere yesterday morning and I couldn’t take my gun in with me, so I locked it in the glove box?’
‘Why couldn’t you take your gun in with you?’ Emmett asked.
‘Ah, I don’t want to tell you that part right now, OK?’
Emmett sighed. ‘OK, Dalton. Then tell me the other part.’
‘Well, I heard a crash, and when I came outside . . .’
After a long pause, Emmett said, ‘Yes?’
‘Well, somebody had busted the passenger-side window and broken the glove box and my gun was gone.’
‘Christ on a crutch, Dalton! Where in the hell were you?’
‘In a residential neighborhood,’ Dalton replied.
‘Doing what?’ Emmett demanded.
‘I still don’t wanna tell you that part right now,’ Dalton said.
‘Well, you’re going to! God, Dalton, have you got any idea how bad this is? Jesus! Why does this shit happen on my watch? We go months with nothing happening around here; Milt leaves for a week and all hell breaks loose!’
‘Yeah, guess so,’ Dalton said.
‘I’m not talking to you!’ Emmett said, his jaw clinched.
‘Then who you talking to, Emmett?’ Dalton asked.
Emmett hung up the cell phone.
FIVE
Milt – Day Three
Vern Weaver joined us after about an hour. Good thing, too, because Mike and I were running out of things to talk about.
‘Hey, fellas,’ he said, slapping us both on the back. I almost chipped my tooth on the beer mug.
‘Hey,’ I said back without much enthusiasm.
‘Where are the girls?’ Mike asked.
‘Ah, hell, with Crystal along they may never come back. I just gave her the credit card and came here.’
Dark Waters Page 8