by Blake Banner
I sat forward. “Impertinent questions?” I turned to him, but he wouldn’t meet my eye. “Impertinent questions? Do you realize that somebody tried to murder your daughter last night?”
There was a hysterical edge to her voice as she repeated, “That is none of your concern, Mr. Walker!”
“I disagree, Mrs. Martin. Whose concern is it? You think maybe it’s the sheriff’s concern? Or the FBI’s?” I reached over and grabbed the Bible he’d been reading. I slammed it on the floor at her feet. It made a loud bang, like a shotgun. “Doesn’t your Bible say if anyone allows harm to come to a child, it would be better for them to have a millstone hung around their neck and drowned in the depths of the sea? If I find a child, beaten and strangled, and thrown in the snow to die, Mrs. Martin, I figure that’s my concern. And if you two are too damned chicken-shit to protect your own daughter, well, then I figure it’s doubly my concern. Because children need to be protected.” I stood. “Especially from people like you.” I pointed at him, then I pointed at her. “You went through hell last night and this morning, worrying about her. But let me tell you something. What you went through is nothing, nothing, compared to the horror she lived through while she was being beaten and strangled. And you willfully let her go through that. You are as culpable as whoever did it. You disgust me!”
I left their house and there was a hot rage in my belly as I walked back down the hill. The wind had picked up and was whipping tiny shards of ice into my face. The sky had grown leaden and it was starting to snow heavily again. But I didn’t notice any of it. All I could see in my mind was Joe Vasco and Earl, out by the depot in their trucks.
When I got back to the saloon, I saw there was an old Jeep Cherokee parked out front. I went on a few paces till I had a clear view of the plain. I saw they were still down there, working. So I walked over to the Cherokee, tried the door and found it was open. The key was still in the ignition. God bless rural America. I climbed in and fired it up, then took off down the road, going too fast, slipping and sliding and raising a huge plume of powdered snow behind me.
I slowed as I approached the huge banks raised by the snow plow and turned into the field. Up close, I saw that the perimeter wall was a good eight feet tall. There was a large, double gate in the side which now stood open. Earl’s red Toyota was parked in it and he came out to look as I approached. I stopped a few feet from the gate and swung out of the cab. Earl looked surprised when he saw who it was and turned back over his shoulder. I heard him shout, “Joe! We got a visitor!”
Joe Vasco and his other two pals came out past the Toyota. His eyes were bright with anger. “I thought I told you to get lost, Lacklan Walker.”
I pointed back toward the town. “There is a child back there who needs a hospital. You’ve got trucks and you’ve got a snow plow. So you are going to help me get that child to a hospital. Now.”
He almost smiled. He said simply, “God damn!” He turned to Earl. “You hear that Earl? We’re going to give Mr. Lacklan Walker here our snow plow and our trucks so he can get that sweet little girl to a hospital. Ain’t that kind of touching?”
Earl and his two pals started laughing.
Joe said, “Get the hell out of here, Walker, before I get mad.”
He turned to go.
I snarled, “What’s the matter, Joe? You scared that if she comes out of that coma she might remember what happened? Tell me something, how did you know I’d found her at the crossroads?”
He stopped dead. Narrowed his eyes at me. The wind was starting to whistle in the cables by the road. The snow was falling heavier. He pointed at me. “You’re the one who found her, Walker. You were the last one to see her alive…”
“She’s not dead, Joe. And if I’d done this to her, would I have brought her in? Would I be this bent on getting her to a hospital?” I stepped toward him. “But you, why are you so reluctant to help, you son of a bitch? That child is dying! Is that what you want? You want her dead so she won’t talk about what happened to her?”
He was exactly the kind of fighter I thought he’d be. He jerked his head at Earl and Earl, the big Mexican, and his athletic pal rushed me. Earl got to me first. There are a lot of fancy blocks in the martial arts. They all have their place, but nothing is as effective against a right cross as lunging inside your attacker’s guard, with a rigid left arm at forty-five degrees, and a simultaneous right fist plunged into the solar plexus. Add a couple of megatons of rage and that mother won’t get up. Earl dropped, retching, vomiting, and gasping for breath.
In the movies, multiple attackers are kind enough to come in one at a time. In the real world, they jump on you all at once, and try to take you to the ground. There, if you let them, they will pummel and kick you to death. As Earl went down, I had the big Mexican rushing me on my right, and the athletic blond reaching out to grab me with both hands on my left. I had no intention of going down. I grabbed his right wrist with my left hand and took a big step back, pulling him with me, right into the big Mexican’s path. They collided and as he fell off balance, I took his wrist in both hands and twisted it savagely against the joint. I felt his shoulder pop and he screamed like a woman in a B horror movie. That left the big Mexican, who was struggling to stay upright in the snow. I took a big step up to him and smashed my right fist into his jaw. I followed up with my left and another right cross. He fell flat on his back.
I looked for Joe. He’d backed up a few paces and had what looked like a Glock 19 in his hand. I said, “Put that away or I’ll kill you with it.”
He shook his head. “Get out of here. Get in your Jeep and get the hell out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Joe. I don’t know what’s going on in this town, but I’ll find out and I will make you pay. Count on it.”
I knew I couldn’t take him there, and I knew he wouldn’t risk shooting me. He had to get his boys back to the farm, and by the time he did that, my body would be buried in snow. The risk of somebody finding me when the thaw came was too great. We had a stand off. I could hear Sergeant Bradley’s New Zealand accent growling at me out of the past, “Never get into a fight you are not sure you can win. Always fight on your own fuckin’ terms, Captain!”
I turned and walked back to the Jeep. I’d been stupid to go there in the first place, but at least now they had three guys down who wouldn’t be in a hurry to cross me in the future. I climbed in, slammed the door, and headed back toward Independence. The snow was heavy and visibility down to forty or fifty yards. As I ground my way back toward the saloon, I told myself I’d got something else out of the confrontation too. There was no doubt in my mind now, no doubt at all, that Joe Vasco was in some way behind what had happened to Peggy. I’d told him I’d make him pay, and by Odin I would..
I left the Jeep where I had found it and pushed into the saloon. There was a big guy in the middle of the floor staring at me. He looked mad. He growled, “You wanna tell me what in the hell you mean by takin’ my truck without askin’?”
I scowled at him. “Are you one one of Joe Vasco’s boys?”
“Yeah. What’s it to you? I’m askin’ you what you mean by takin’ my truck?”
I looked past him and saw Abi, her face pleading, shaking her head. I sighed and looked back at the big gorilla. I said, “I’m sorry. It was an emergency. I wanted to try and get Peggy to a hospital before the snow set in.”
He grunted and waved a finger like a sausage at me. “You should ask before you borrow a man’s property. Remember that.”
I pushed past him. “I will. I’ll do that.”
He went outside. The door slammed on the snow and the wind, and he drove away, toward the farm. I leaned on the counter and looked hard at Abi.
“You need to tell me what’s going on.”
She shook her head. “Just leave it alone, Lacklan, please.”
“I need to know.”
“I’m closing up. There’ll be no one in now till tomorrow.”
She went into the kitchen.
A moment later, the light went off and she came out wrapped in her coat, hat, and muffler. I followed her to the front door, took the keys from her and locked it. Then we ran across the road to the guesthouse. It wasn’t yet midday, but it had grown as dark as evening and the wind was howling and baying in the pine woods. Visibility had dropped further, to barely thirty yards. We pushed inside and closed the door behind us, with snow swirling around our feet..
Primrose came out of the living room. I could see the fire burning there. It looked good, warm and homey. She said, “Mom! I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“It’s just a storm, Prim.”
“It’s insane! It’s dark and it’s not even night!” She turned to me. “Mr. Walker, you must come into the parlor, or the kitchen with us, where it’s warm!”
Abi stared at her. “Prim?”
Primrose stared back at her mother and her cheeks colored with anger. “Mother! It is the very least we can do! On a day like this! And Mr. Walker saved Peggy’s life!”
I wasn’t going to argue. I looked at Abi and raised an eyebrow at her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Lacklan, of course it is the very least we can do. Would you care to join us?”
“I’d love to.” I turned pointedly to Primrose, who was smiling but whose cheeks were still red. “Thank you.”
I followed them both through what they called the parlor and into the kitchen. It was a large room. The floor was bare wooden boards, but it was covered in woven rugs and sheepskins. There was a blue iron range giving off warmth and a smell of baking pies and bread. There was also a heavy pine table, and sitting at it, watching me with an expression of awe, was the boy. Primrose said, “Sean, say hello to Mr. Walker. Mr. Walker, Lacklan, this is my brother, and nemesis, Sean. Please sit down, will you have some tea? Luncheon will be in about half an hour.”
“Thank you.”
Abi had set about washing vegetables and Primrose went to make some tea. I sat at the table and smiled at Sean. Both of the women had their backs to us, and he, with wide eyes, pointed at me and mouthed the words, “I saw what you did!”
Six
I put my finger to my lips and shook my head. He grinned, nodded and raised his thumb, then delivered a few silent punches to the air while mouthing the word ‘pow’.
Abi put the vegetables on to boil, then she and Primrose came and sat at the table. Primrose brought with her a large, blue teapot and four cups, which she filled and distributed. I thanked her and looked at Abi, who was avoiding my eye.
“Abi, we are going to talk about what’s happening in this town. It’s not something that we can put off indefinitely.”
Her mouth tightened and she sighed loudly through her nose. “How many times? I really wish you would leave it alone. This is none of your business.”
I suppressed a flash of anger. “Murdering a little girl is everybody’s business, Abi! We are not talking about your religious beliefs or your opinion on gay marriage! We are talking about a child, just a little older than your own son, who was beaten, raped, and strangled, and then thrown by the roadside to die of cold. And nobody in this village—not even her parents—gives a damn!” I frowned at her. She still wouldn’t meet my eye, so I went on. “Well, I give a damn, and that makes it my business.”
Primrose was looking at her tea like it had used foul language and blasphemed. She surprised me by saying, “And so do I, and so should you, Mom.”
Abi’s eyes flashed and her cheeks colored. She stared at her daughter but before she could say anything, Sean had spoken up. “Me too, Mom. It’s not right.”
“How dare you both be so impertinent!”
“Abi.” Now she looked at me and her eyes were blazing, “It’s an outrage for your children to tell you you should care that a child has been raped and almost killed in your village? But it is not an outrage to rape and strangle a fifteen-year-old girl?”
She had the decency to look embarrassed. She stared down at her cup and after a moment said, “That isn’t fair…”
“What they said was not impertinent. It was very pertinent. Peggy’s parents know who did this, but they are too scared to talk. I am willing to bet that you and the doc know who did it too, but you’re too scared to talk. Just tell me one thing, have there been other cases?” She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Her face said everything. I nodded. “I thought so. How far does it have to go? How many little girls have to die? How bad does it have to get before you do something about it?”
She spoke in a flat, dead voice. “Please stop.”
Primrose answered for me. “No.”
Her mother glared at her. “Primrose, enough!”
“No! You think that because I’ve made it to nineteen, I am safe? You think that because you’re an adult you are safe! And Peggy was fifteen and blonde and pretty, so bad luck to her! Well, it’s wrong! And you are wrong! Sooner or later he will come after us! And even if he doesn’t, he hurts us as much by taking Peggy as though he had taken one of us!”
“Don’t say that!”
“It’s true!”
Abi’s eyes filled with tears. She stared furiously at her daughter. “My job is to keep my children safe! My heart breaks for Peggy! But I will not put my children at risk!”
She turned to stare at me.
I said, “Abi, you are putting your daughter at risk by allowing him to continue. As long as he is out there, your daughter and every young girl in the district is at risk.”
“And what do you expect me to do? Take a gun and go and shoot him?”
I gave a small shrug, “It’s one option, but I wouldn’t recommend it. You’d be better off telling me who he is, and what’s going on.”
She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. Primrose said, “We don’t know who he is. He’s one of the men on the farm. But they all stick together, like a clan. Anyone who has tried to do anything in the past has been beaten to within an inch of their lives.”
Abi gave me a look and somehow I understood: the absence of a husband and a father in the house was no accident, but the kids didn’t know. I gave a small nod that I got it and said, “Tell me what happened before.”
Abi sighed and flopped back in her chair in a gesture of resignation. “Years ago. Two sisters, the Gordon girls, thirteen and fifteen. They went missing. They’d been visiting at the farm. They left to go home, but they never made it back. The whole village went out and searched for them. Eventually, their bodies were found up in the canyon. They’d been raped and strangled. It destroyed their parents. The story is they upped one day a couple of weeks later and left the town. They have never been seen or heard of since.”
She paused, examining her tea as though wondering whether to drink it. Then she set it back down and continued talking.
“A year later, Sally Inigo was found out on the plain. She’d also been raped and strangled…”
I interrupted her. “Didn’t anybody notify the sheriff’s department?”
She looked at the backs of her hands, like she was regretting a bad choice and wished she’d picked nicer ones. “After the Gordon girls were killed, yes. But there was no evidence, no witnesses. They asked some questions and left. But after Sally was found, we had a meeting in the church hall. It was decided we were a very private community and we didn’t want the papers and the TV crews coming in and prying into our business. In any case, the sheriff hadn’t been able to do anything, so it was agreed we’d take care of it ourselves…”
“Take care of it? Take care of it how?”
“We didn’t know. We all agreed it was best we didn’t know.”
“What are you talking about, Abi?”
“The men at the farm said they’d take care of it.”
“Joe Vasco?”
She nodded.
I sighed. “Talk about asking turkeys to vote for Christmas!”
She shrugged. “There has been nothing since.”
“Until now.”
She nodded.
“Yes, until now.”
Primrose spoke suddenly. “It seems to me we have two problems. One is that whatever the men at the farm did five years ago, either the same rapist has come back, or we have a copycat. So it didn’t solve the problem. The second, and more urgent, is that Peggy needs to get to a hospital.”
I studied her face for a moment and decided I liked her. “That’s absolutely correct.” I turned back to Abi. “I talked to Joe Vasco and three of his men about half an hour ago, that’s what I borrowed the Jeep for. I asked them to provide us with the snow plow and a truck to get Peggy to Lovelock. They tried to give me a hiding for my efforts, and Joe pulled a gun on me.”
Sean grinned and drank his tea.
Abi said, “The only trucks capable of getting to Lovelock in this snow belong to the farm. And the way it is at the moment, without a snow plow we wouldn’t stand a chance.” She hesitated. “It could last days, perhaps a week.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “Peggy may not have a week. How far does the track go up the canyon?”
Sean sat up straight, his eyes bright and an expression of glee on his face. “It goes right the way through to the Rye Patch Truck Stop! And there are lots of houses around there. On a fine day, it takes no more than five hours to cross.”
I said, “Nine or ten hours in this.”
Abi’s jaw dropped. “You cannot be serious. You’ll never make it alive!”
“Is there another option? Whatever the consensus of this village may be, Abi, I am not going to stand by and let that child die.”
She closed her eyes. “You have made your point, Lacklan. But there is no point in going out there to die in the snow. You will not make it!”
I looked at the dark glass in the window, with the thick snow falling outside. There was a good chance she was right. “How far does the forest stretch? The trees are pretty dense on the slopes, they give some protection from the snow.”
It was Sean who answered. “They follow they canyon about two-thirds of the way up, then they kind of stop. The top is bare.”