A strong wind would have blown poor John, Jr into the next county, he was that skinny. And his face was pocked from teenage acne, with still a couple of oozing sores visible on his forehead and chin. I could tell he was John Connors’ son, though – he had John’s hawk-like nose and weak chin. The kid was wearing baggy blue jeans and a blue nylon work shirt with the Walmart logo.
Me and Charlie shook hands with Detective Juarez and nodded at John Brewer.
‘Thanks for meeting with us, Mr Brewer,’ Charlie said.
We all took seats at the table, me and Charlie opposite Detective Juarez and John Brewer. ‘Mr Brewer, we wanted to ask you about your dad,’ I said.
‘My dad? What about him?’
‘Just wondered what your reaction was to him getting his head injury and all,’ I said.
Brewer’s eyes grew wide. ‘Head injury? Oh my God! What happened?’ He jumped up from his chair. ‘Was it a car wreck? Is he alive? Where is he?’
Charlie and I looked at each other and I began to see where I might have made a mistake. ‘Sorry, not your dad, Mr Brewer, but your birth dad, John Connors.’
John Brewer sat down hard on his chair. ‘Who? What the hell you talking about?’
Again, me and Charlie exchanged a look. I nodded at Charlie to take the lead. I seemed to be messing it up.
‘Ah, Mr Brewer, are you aware that your mother was married before her current husband?’
‘No, she wasn’t!’ John Brewer said, again jumping to his feet. ‘Who the hell are you to say shit like that about my mama?’
I glanced at Detective Juarez. His head was down, his hand over his mouth. I think the asshole was trying not to laugh out loud. All I can say is that me and Charlie didn’t do a very good job of knocking down the stereotype of the country bumpkin peace officers. No, we did not.
OK, so John Brewer wasn’t aware that he was born John Connors, Jr, or that his current dad was his stepdad and his birth dad was the basket case we had in Prophesy County. But, and this was not good, we needed to confirm that. And the only way to confirm that John Brewer was not aware of his parentage was to talk to his mama, who was not going to be happy that we had blundered in and blurted out a secret she’d kept hidden for over twenty years. But, knowing that the DNA proved a woman was responsible, that sort of let off John Brewer, but his mom? Did she give a crap about an ex-husband she hadn’t seen in some twenty-odd years? What fun jobs me and Charlie had. I sat there in that interrogation room and counted up the days until I was eligible for retirement. Too damn many.
‘Mr Brewer,’ I said, ‘I’m real sorry you found out about all this like you did. We thought you knew.’
‘Knew what? You calling my mama a whore?’ he said, his voice loud as he again stood up, his hands fisted.
‘Nobody said that, boy,’ Charlie said, patting the air. ‘You need to calm down. And you need to sit back down right now.’
We waited in silence the minutes it took John Brewer to accomplish those two tasks. Once he was down, Detective Juarez said, ‘Jackie, I’m real sorry about the way this all came about. I didn’t know what these guys needed to talk to you about. And I sure didn’t know Mike isn’t your real dad—’
‘He is my real dad!’ John – Jackie – Brewer said.
‘You’re right. He’s the one who raised you so he is your real dad. This other yahoo, well, I’m not sure exactly what these two are after,’ Juarez said, leaning back in his chair and staring at us.
Jackie folded his arms over his sunken chest and glared our way.
‘We need to talk to your mother,’ I said, ‘and verify that you didn’t know about this.’
‘Well, good luck with that. My mama passed two years ago. Breast cancer.’
There went that half-baked theory. ‘I’m real sorry,’ I said. ‘Then maybe your stepdad.’
‘He ain’t my step nothing! He’s my dad!’
‘Sorry. Yeah, maybe we need to talk to him,’ I said.
Juarez coughed like he was choking. ‘What?’ I demanded, glaring at him.
‘Well, now, you might want to reconsider that,’ Juarez said.
‘And why’s that?’ I said, still glaring.
Juarez laughed and looked at Jackie Brewer, who grinned back at him. ‘I don’t know, Mannie,’ Jackie said, calling Juarez by a first name we’d never been privy to. ‘I think it might be fun to see these two tell my dad I’m not his son!’
Charlie leaned into me and whispered in my ear, ‘Something’s going on we don’t know about.’
‘No shit, Sherlock!’ I whispered back.
John ‘Jackie’ Brewer née Connors stood up. ‘I’ll be happy to take you to see my daddy,’ he said, still grinning.
I looked at Detective Juarez. ‘You coming?’ I asked.
He stood, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he said.
Sylvia Bradshaw, the new EMT partnered with Jasper Thorne, stared at herself in the mirror, adjusting the red wig that covered her burned and bald scalp. After four major plastic surgeries, her face was still a mess. And her ass was a bit of a mess, too, from them taking so much skin off it to repair the burns she’d suffered to her left cheek, chin and nose. She remembered her younger brother used to call her butt-face when they were kids. She laughed mirthlessly. Well, she really was one now.
The door to the locker opened and Jasper called in, ‘You decent?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, and pulled herself away from the image in the mirror.
‘We got a call,’ Jasper said.
‘Another deputy bite the big one?’ Sylvia asked.
‘Hope not,’ Jasper said, heading out in front of her.
‘Whatever,’ she said.
Anna Alvarez sat at her computer in the bullpen of the sheriff’s office and stared at the stats in front of her. She was just damn glad they weren’t making her go out on calls anymore. She was terrified of messing something up so bad they’d start to ask questions. One thing Anna didn’t need was questions.
‘You find anything more on Maudeen Sanders’ kid?’ Anthony asked her, setting a hip down on the corner of her desk.
‘All I can tell you is she’s doing real good at SMU – on the dean’s list three semesters in a row.’
‘What’s she studying?’ Anthony asked.
‘Liberal arts,’ Anna answered.
He laughed. ‘Yeah, a degree in that and a dollar still won’t get you a cup of coffee.’
‘Yeah, but you might be able to get a job as a barista.’
‘Good one. I think maybe I should go to Dallas and check her out,’ Anthony said.
Anna gave him a look. ‘Still having problems at home?’
Anthony straightened up from the desk and moved away. ‘No. Everything’s great,’ he said.
Dalton came in the front door, escorting a very drunk old woman. ‘Come on in and sit down, Miz York,’ he said to her.
‘Whatja got?’ Anthony asked as Dalton settled the woman on the bench seat in the foyer and walked toward the counter that separated that area from the bullpen.
‘Miz York. Again,’ Dalton said and sighed. ‘She was peeing on Mr Staples’ roses and he flagged me down as I was coming in. She’s as drunk as Cooter Brown.’
‘Wanna put her in a cell to sleep it off?’ Anthony asked.
‘That’s what I was thinking. Milt’s done that with guys who’re drunk, and if we don’t have any men in the cells it should be OK, right?’
‘Right,’ Anthony agreed. ‘We’re empty now.’
‘Good,’ Dalton said, and headed for his charge.
‘Maybe some coffee?’ Anna suggested.
‘Good idea,’ Dalton said. ‘Miz York, we’re gonna get a little coffee in you, then you can go lay down for a spell. How’s that sound?’
‘Coffee’s bad for you,’ the old woman said. ‘Got any bourbon?’
Me and Charlie found out what was so funny about us confronting Jackie Brewer’s stepdad. We discovered two things: Michae
l Brewer was the pastor of the Family Values Evangelical Church of the Lord and Savior, and just happened to be the former Mike the Mighty, Oklahoma heavyweight wrestler of the year from 1972 to 1980. He was big, mean and didn’t have much of a sense of humor. And all that is an understatement. The only thing different about Pastor Michael Brewer from Mike the Mighty of the seventies was his hair was gray. He still had the handlebar mustache and the muscular hamhock-sized arms.
I had misgivings. That’s another way of saying I was scared shitless. There were two scenarios, neither one having a good ending. Number one, Mike the Mighty didn’t know Jackie wasn’t his kid, at which point he’d beat the living shit out of anyone who dared to say it was so; and number two, Mike the Mighty did know Jackie wasn’t his kid but had been keeping that secret close to his chest for some twenty-odd years. At which point he’d beat the living shit out of anyone who confessed to telling his kid the truth.
So I thought I’d make Charlie do it.
He had other ideas.
‘What’s this all about?’ Pastor Brewer said after we’d been introduced.
We were in the sanctuary of the Family Values Evangelical Church of the Lord and Savior, which was a storefront in a mostly defunct strip mall on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. It was pretty much a plain space, no stained glass or fancy pews. Folding chairs were stacked up against the walls and the pulpit sat atop a raised platform of flatbed crates. But Pastor Brewer didn’t really need a raised platform. He was pretty much a presence as he just stood there. Six foot five or six, close to three hundred pounds, and not much of it fat, he was definitely formidable.
I noticed Detective Juarez and Jackie Brewer had moved back a bit. Like, maybe a lot. This didn’t bode well.
I looked at Charlie, who seemed to be studying the layout of his shoes. Personally, I didn’t think they looked that complicated. I had a feeling that if anyone was gonna speak, it was gonna have to be me. I fought my brain for a strategy and came up with: ‘Pastor Brewer, are you acquainted with a man in Prophesy County by the name of John Connors?’ I asked.
Brewer looked at his stepson, then back at me, then back at Jackie. ‘Son, need you to go in my study and fetch me my Bible.’
‘You got your Bible in your hand, Daddy,’ Jackie said.
‘My study Bible,’ Pastor Brewer said.
Jackie shrugged, grinned at Detective Juarez and left the sanctuary where we were all standing.
‘What’s this about?’ Brewer asked again.
‘Are you aware of the man I just mentioned?’ I asked.
He looked behind him to make sure his stepson was out of earshot. ‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Could you tell me your relationship to that man?’
‘I got no relationship to that man,’ he said. ‘But he was my late wife’s first husband, if that’s what you’re after.’
‘Was your stepson aware of that?’ I asked.
‘My son,’ he said, emphasizing the lack of ‘step’ in front of the word, ‘knows only that I’m his daddy. And that’s all he needs to know.’
‘Cat’s outta the bag, Mike,’ Detective Juarez said.
Mike the Mighty’s head swung around and he glared at Juarez. ‘What?’
Juarez, being the bastard he obviously was, used his head to nod at me and Charlie. ‘They told him,’ he said.
‘Why’d you go and do that?’ he said, sounding a lot more like the wrestler than the preacher.
‘Sir, I’m real sorry. We’ve got a situation down in Prophesy County and we needed to know if your son was aware of John Connors or his troubles,’ I said.
‘Well, I guess he is now!’ The man steeled himself, closed his eyes and his mouth moved, I hoped in a prayer of forgiveness. ‘What troubles does that evil bastard have?’ he finally asked, opening his eyes.
‘Nothing that concerns you and yours, obviously,’ I said. ‘Again, sir, I’m sorry we brought this upon you. We’ll be leaving now.’
‘You best be doing that,’ the preaching wrestler said as we hightailed it out the door of the storefront.
‘You need to go to the shop,’ Jasmine told her husband. ‘God only knows what’s happening with just Dalton and Anthony in charge.’
‘I’m not leaving you!’ Emmett said.
‘Please!’ she said and laughed. ‘Leave me! You’re driving me nuts!’
‘I’m just trying to help—’
‘I know, honey, and you’ve been doing great. But I need some me time, you know? I’ve got a lot to think about and some healing to do, and I really can’t rest that much with you hovering over me twenty-four-seven!’
‘So you just want me to leave?’ Emmett asked, his feelings obviously hurt.
Jasmine reached for his hand. ‘Only for a little while. But then you come back, you hear?’
‘How long?’ he asked, his voice a little whiny.
‘As long as it takes to see what’s going on at the shop and for you to go home and take a shower and change your clothes. Of course, maybe you should do that before you go to the shop.’
‘You saying I stink?’ Emmett asked, lifting one arm to smell his pit. He made a face. ‘Never mind.’ He leaned down and kissed her. ‘Next time you smell me you’ll think I bathed in roses.’
‘Personally, I like a more manly smell,’ Jasmine said, her hand on the back of his neck. ‘But this,’ she said, scrunching up her nose, ‘is just a little too manly.’
‘I’m outta here,’ Emmett said, and slipped out of the room.
He’d been in the hospital so long he wasn’t sure if he remembered where he’d parked. He walked the huge parking lot, hitting the alarm button on his key fob until he heard the beep of his car and saw the flashing lights. He crawled in and wondered if a nap might be in order – either before or after the shower. He’d barely made it inside his house before he discovered that the shower was definitely going to happen after a nap. The sofa was the closest spot and he flopped down on it.
Thoughts were flying through his brain – worries about Jasmine, about Petal and about everybody associated with the sheriff’s department. He needed to figure out what was going on. It was his duty to figure out what was going on. He really needed to figure out …
He woke up two hours later. It was the first time in days he’d slept in a reclining position. The chair he’d been using at the hospital didn’t induce sleep. He stretched and laid there for a few minutes, trying to orient himself. Shower. Shop. Hospital. Those were his priorities. But he thought a beer might not be inappropriate – before he brushed his teeth, of course.
An hour later he was back in his car and pulling into the employee parking lot at the sheriff’s department. He noted there were only two squad cars in the parking lot. The third one must be out patrolling. That was a good thing, until he remembered that the third one was the one Jasmine had been in when she’d crashed. So no one was out patrolling. Not so good.
He went straight to the bullpen, not even stopping at his office to drop off his jacket. All three deputies were sitting there.
‘Why the fuck aren’t y’all out on patrol? Anna could hold down the fort, for God’s sake!’ he shouted.
‘Mike Reynolds is patrolling for us,’ Anthony said, mentioning the Longbranch police officer. ‘Milt and Charlie came up with that plan. I just got back from a domestic out in Bishop and Dalton’s been taking care of a drunk we got in lock-up.’
Emmett’s breathing slowed and he felt embarrassed. ‘Sorry, y’all,’ he finally said. ‘Things have been tense lately.’
‘Don’t we know it. We heard that Jasmine’s out of her coma,’ Anthony said.
‘Yeah, yeah, she is. Doing real good,’ Emmett said.
‘Holly called,’ Dalton said by way of explanation. ‘Said Petal got to talk to her mama.’
‘Yeah,’ Emmett said and grinned. ‘That did both of my gals a lot of good.’
Anna stood up and approached the counter. She reached across and patted Emmett’s sleeve. ‘I’m so glad Jasmi
ne’s OK.’
‘Yeah,’ Dalton said.
Anthony grinned and said, ‘You betcha.’
Emmett heaved a sigh. ‘So, Dalton, who’s your drunk in the tank?’
‘Miz York,’ Dalton said. ‘She’s sleeping it off.’
‘Did you call her daughter?’ Emmett asked.
‘Yes, sir, and she said to leave her here for all she cared. But then she calmed down and said she’d come by before we closed to get her.’
‘I’m sure having a mama like that’s a burden,’ Emmett said.
‘Yes, sir. I’m real lucky,’ Dalton said.
Emmett couldn’t help remembering what Jean had said to Jasmine and thought luck wasn’t the word he’d use. Turning to Anthony, he said, ‘Come on back and tell me about the domestic.’
Emmett walked back to his office, Anthony following behind. Once seated, Anthony said, ‘Couple by the name of Shawny. He’s a lawyer in Bishop, she’s a stay-at-home mom. She hit him in the head with a hot iron.’
‘Jesus!’ Emmett said, taken aback. ‘Was she defending herself?’
‘Not so the husband mentioned. And according to her, it had something to do with his legal assistant.’
‘Is he pressing charges?’ Emmett asked.
‘No, he kept saying it was an accident. The couple’s teenage daughter said her mama did it on purpose but …’ Anthony shrugged.
‘Law says you gotta bring her in,’ Emmett said.
‘Well, yeah, but the husband kept saying it was an accident and he finally got the daughter to agree.’
‘But you don’t think it was?’
‘Hell, no. She clocked him a good one. Got the burn imprint of that iron right on his left cheek. Iron won’t be much good for clothes after that.’
‘So? What’s your plan?’ Emmett asked.
‘Keep an eye on her, mostly,’ Anthony said. ‘And maybe keep an eye on the legal assistant.’ He shrugged. ‘Tell the truth, Emmett, with what’s been going on here I was kinda afraid to spend too much time and energy on it, you know, in case …’
‘We can’t let the county go to hell just cause we got some asshole trying to kill us all,’ Emmett said, then laughed. ‘Never thought I’d say those words.’
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