When the door opened she expected to look up and see Cal, or even Vic. She didn't expect to see Nolan. He closed the door behind himself and leaned against it. He looked ridiculous with the blackberry stain at his crotch.
"Cal wanted to come up but I wouldn't let him," he said. "I told him it was between me and you. I didn't think you told him what happened today."
Myra shook her head. "I couldn't. He'd worry."
"He would," Nolan agreed. Then he sighed. "Myra, I know you're feeling vulnerable and resentful, but you're going to have to find a way to deal with it. It's natural to feel enmity toward me and to fight any feelings of dependency, but..." His voice trailed off. He leaned away from the door and turned to grip the knob. "All right, I can see you're in no mood to listen. I'm going to ask Al to try and locate another pistol. I'll feel better and I'm sure you will too if you have one for yourself. I spoke to Vic when he came back from church and he's against it. He thinks it all may have been a misunderstanding and he doesn't want any more guns around. You might talk to him yourself when you get a chance. He seems to have a bug up his ass where I'm concerned."
When Myra said nothing he twisted the knob and opened the door. "And by the way, I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I was only trying to make you feel better. I thought you would laugh."
Myra finally looked at him. "You'd better go and change. I'll be down in a little while."
He gazed at her a moment, as if about to say something else, then he simply nodded and left. Cal entered the room a second later. He was frowning.
"What's going on, Mom? I've seen you upset before, but not like that. What did Nolan do?"
Myra thought of the blackberry stain. Her lips slowly began to curve. Cal stared at her, waiting. "Mom?"
She wiped her mouth and fought down the urge to burst into hysterical laughter. So serious, standing there trying to talk reason with blackberry seeds and filling all over his… She cleared her throat. "Has Al left yet?"
"No. He's sitting on the porch."
"Where are Vic and the girls?"
"They went out to the barn to look at a horse. Did you see anyone drop it off?"
Myra stopped smiling. She rose from the bed and walked to the door. "Yes. He came while you were showering. Let's go down so I can make my apologies to Al before he leaves."
Al wasn't in a hurry. He sat on the porch and drank beer with Nolan until dusk. Myra sat on the swing with Cal and listened to their talk, avoiding Nolan's gaze when he happened to glance her way. Here, with the crickets singing and a warm breeze blowing calm over the creaking porch, she felt foolish and more than a little uncomfortable about his visit to her bedroom. His quiet sincerity and understanding in a moment when he had every right to be upset and angry was, she believed, completely out of the character he had presented thus far. And he still had a blackberry seed stuck to his inner left thigh. She couldn't look at him without glancing at the seed and wanting to smile. It was best not to look at him at all.
When Vic and the girls returned from an abruptly announced hike to the pond, Myra rose from the swing and followed them into the house, where she asked Vic if she might speak to him alone. He exhaled loudly before nodding. "Christa, you and Andy get in the tub. I'll check on you shortly."
Myra waited until the girls had exited the room before speaking. "It's about Mr. Schwarz, Vic."
"I know." He walked away from her and went into the dining room, forcing Myra to follow. He pulled out a chair and sat down. "Tell me exactly what happened."
Still standing, Myra told him. His expression remained distant and unreadable. Finally she said, "There was no possible misunderstanding, Vic. The man put his hands on my body and promised to do things I can't even bring myself to repeat to you. Darwin used to talk about this man, and when he did the word psychopath came up frequently. I used to think he was exaggerating but after today I know he was telling the truth. If it hadn't been for Nolan, Gil Schwarz would have raped me right there in the stall."
Vic lifted a corner of his mouth. "A man you've never seen before comes into the barn while you're milking and attacks you. Nolan saves you, and you show your gratitude by dumping pie on him. Funny."
Myra blinked at his sardonic tone. Her voice lifted in anger. "You don't believe me, do you? Why would I lie about something like this? What could I possibly gain from lying?"
Slowly Vic's mouth straightened. He frowned and put a hand to his forehead. "You're right. I'm sorry. Dammit, I've had so much on my mind lately and it's just one problem after another. I get one break and now I want everything to go right. I'm not trying to be unreasonable, Myra, I just want things to work out."
"I know you do," Myra said. "And I hate to be the cause of yet another problem. But the man did attack me."
Vic rubbed his eyes. "Do you think you could stay out of his way until you leave? You know, avoid going out to the barn if you see his truck here? It's only for a few more weeks, right?"
Myra couldn't believe her ears. "And what about when I'm gone? Will it be one of your children? Vic, the man is sick. You're not so desperate that you have to allow a would-be rapist to roam your property. If you do that then you're just as sick and twisted as he is."
Vic came out of the chair in an instant and struck her across the face. Myra stumbled against a chair and then stood staring at him in disbelief. In the next second Vic had his arms around her, holding her against him.
"Oh, God. Myra, I'm so sorry! Forgive me, please. I'm really sorry. I don't know why I...
She froze as he began to cry. Her cheek throbbed with heat.
"I'm going crazy," he sobbed into her hair. "Last night I saw Connie standing by my bed. I woke up and there she was, just as real as you or me. Her hair was wet and smelled so . . . I've been seeing the most terrible images in my head. Dead bodies. My girls are losing weight and talking nonsense and I think they might need professional help. I can't even buy them a candy bar without worrying about the money—how am I supposed to help them? I feel like I'm ready to crack. Please, please forgive me."
Myra, still stunned, put a hand on one shaking shoulder and tried to ease him away. He held on tighter. "Vic," she said, "I know it's hard. It's a lot of responsibility for one person. I haven't been doing so hot myself."
"These people," he said. "These Denke people want to help me. Do you understand? They're offering me a lifeline, a way to survive. I'm a stranger here and they've not only accepted me, but they've taken me in and given me the means to provide for my family again. Do you know what that means to me?"
"Yes," she said. "I do. And I'm grateful to you for sharing what little you have with us. But I think Cal and I should go. The sooner we're out of your way the sooner you'll be able to—"
"No." He lifted his head and looked at her with reddened eyes.
"Don't go. I need you. I need your help with the girls until August. A woman from town has offered to come out and keep house, but I told her I wouldn't need her until then. I want you to stay. The girls like you, Myra. They're comfortable with you. And if you want me to, I'll have Gil Schwarz come and get his horse. I'll do anything to make this up to you. I swear I've never hit a woman before in my life and I can only keep repeating how sorry I am. I've been under a lot of pressure and I just lost control. Please believe me and say you'll stay."
Myra didn't want to. She had an ominous feeling the day's incidents were only precursors of events to come. Twice in one day she had been— No, that wasn't fair. Vic Kimmler was not a violent man. Like his father, she couldn't believe he would ever willingly hurt anyone. He hadn't really been striking out at her; he had been striking out at the helplessness and frustration that came with being sole provider and a single parent. Myra knew those feelings. She knew them well.
And Nolan had been right. She was better off here, at least for the time being, where she had help in looking after Cal. It wouldn't be too difficult to snatch him out of a motel room somewhere along the road, a cheap motel room at that. When August came
she would have a plan of escape. Perhaps Vic could even help her with that, a way to leave Denke without being followed. He would be the local law starting tomorrow. He could detain anyone he liked while she and Cal slipped quietly away.
Vic was watching her with moist brown eyes, waiting for her answer. She told him she would stay—on the condition that he asked Gil Schwarz to come and retrieve his mare.
"I will," he promised, and he hugged her again. When he finally released her Myra turned to see Cal and Nolan staring at them from the dining room entrance. Cal's expression was confused. Nolan merely smirked.
CHAPTER 19
The week passed with Vic feeling alternately relieved and anxious. He spent many hours in town in the company of a sullen Ed Kisner, who grudgingly showed him what he called the ropes around Denke. There wasn't much to it; the town was probably smaller than Mayberry. But he was wearing a badge again. And he was sleeping better with the drugs Doc Stade had given him after church last Sunday. As a vice cop Vic had seen more than his share of drugs, but he had never sampled any. It was amazing how much calmer he felt after taking one of Doc's generic tranquilizers. The man had his own pharmaceutical license and he filled his own prescriptions. Vic didn't care what it was, he only cared that it worked. When he began to feel restless and edgy again he simply took another pill. The doctor assured him the dosage was a low one; he wouldn't hurt himself unless he took more than four or five in one day.
He wished he had taken two during Sunday's dinner. His fit of temper with Myra was still a source of agony and self-disgust.
Even in his worst arguments with Connie he never lifted a hand to her.
His relief came from the fact that Myra apparently didn't hold a grudge against him for slapping her. His anxiety stemmed from Ed Kisner's obvious unhappiness and Gil Schwarz's outright hostility over the horse business. Jinx had said no matter, don't worry, Gil could be a real fool sometimes, and Ed was just being a baby about being replaced so quickly. But Vic still couldn't help feeling he'd gotten off on the wrong foot with the people who were doing their best to be nice to him.
Nolan was another story. He owed him. He owed him a lot, and lately it seemed all he could do was argue with his best friend. Wednesday morning after Gil Schwarz finally arrived to pick up his mare, Vic found Nolan packing his things, preparing to leave. When Vic asked him why, Nolan said, "You've got to be kidding. I don't know what the hell your problem is, but I'm not sticking around to find out just how far you'll go to destroy ten years of friendship."
Vic broke down again, cried, begged him to stay in an attempt to hold on to the part of his past that Nolan represented. Something, some secret knowledge that went beyond any surface reality, told him he would be lost if Nolan left. Lately he had grown to resent everything about his friend—his insouciance, his freedom, and his easy rapport with the children he found bothersome—but Vic needed him. Nolan was his preserver if the lifeline Denke offered happened to snap, or if he himself happened to snap.
Seeing Connie had nearly done it. Waking up and finding her standing beside his bed, mere inches away, nearly pushed him over the edge. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed, ignoring the prickling sensation and the raised hairs on his skin until the feelings went away. In a sense Connie's visitation was worse than the visions upstairs in Cal's room. Part of him wanted to look just to see her again, but the rest of him cringed away from the sheer oddness of her ghostly presence. He wasn't taking care of the girls as promised. They were even starting to avoid him. He couldn't buy them new clothes, new dolls, or even make them laugh the way Nolan could. Myra fed them and helped them dress. A cut finger or a scraped knee was called to her attention, not his own. Cal was their playmate of choice.
But the drugs helped. Doc's sedatives eased the pain of loss and the feelings of guilt and let him sleep through the night. In time he wouldn't need them anymore. He would be settled in and accustomed to his new lifestyle by the time Nolan and Myra departed. Fred Bauer's volunteered to help with the girls and the house, and when school started the girls would find new friends. If things went well, maybe he could buy them a pony next year.
Under Jinx's tutelage he was learning how to care for the three horses now in his keep. Two of the mares belonged to Jinx, the third horse, a gelding, belonged to Doc Stade. Before their offer they kept their horses in a community-owned stable, but the shelter was inadequate, the pond needed to be cleaned, and the heat wave had taken its toll on the pasture. The arrival of two more horses the coming Saturday would round out Vic's morning schedule of feeding, grooming, and mucking out stalls. His afternoons were to be occupied with town business, which consisted of the daily "cruise," the noting of complaints and the settling of neighborly squabbles. With fewer than two hundred people, all of whom knew each other, Vic pretty much had his afternoons to himself.
On Friday he thought to end his stint in Jinx's diner. The usual five o'clock bunch were seated on their usual stools and each called out a greeting as Vic entered and took a seat. A new face beside Ed Kisner caught Vic's attention and he rose again and offered his hand to the young man. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Vic Kimmler."
"Len Kisner," the man said, and the hand that clasped Vic's was rough and hardened with calluses.
Now this is a farmer, Vic thought. And the big, tanned fellow had to be his mother's son, because he looked nothing like his puny, pasty-faced father, Ed.
"Pleased to meet you, Len." Vic returned to his seat and looked up to see Jinx smiling at him. Vic smiled back
"Well, I'd best be gettin' back to work," Len said to his father. "Nice meetin' you, Mr. Kimmler. Be seein' you around town, I guess."
His departure caused a flurry of farewells among the men. Most of their faces were proud as they looked upon Len, Vic noticed. But something else—a strange tension—took over the moment he was gone. Soon there was an air of anticipation among the men. Vic knew something was up from the way they kept looking toward Jinx. "So what's going on today, guys?" he asked. "Any heavy town business?"
Jinx shook his head. "I was just tellin' the boys here about a girl I got awful silly about, till she gagged over one of my dirty dishrags."
The men lining the counter burst out laughing—all but Ed Kisner. In fact Ed looked downright unhappy. Vic would have made a comment, but Ed Kisner had looked unhappy since the day he met him. Nothing unusual there.
He turned back to Jinx. "So are you the only bachelor in here?"
Ed Kisner snorted. "Him and Gil Schwarz."
Jinx scowled at the barber before smiling at Vic once more. "I got occupied with town business and never looked around anymore."
Vic nodded. "Was your dad the mayor before you?"
Ed Kisner began to snicker, but looks from the other men soon shut him up. Vic raised his brows and waited for Jinx to answer.
"My papa was killed before I was born," Jinx said. "Your own grandpa was mayor before me, Vic. Darwin's daddy."
"Really?" Vic was surprised. "Granddad Rudolph was mayor of Denke?"
The men at the counter all nodded in confirmation.
"Damn," Vic said. "What do you know about that?"
"And now you're the town law," Jinx said with a wink. "Maybe someday after I'm gone you'll follow in your granddaddy's footsteps, eh?"
Vic laughed. "Sure." He glanced down the counter. "Me and Len, right? We'll take over where you guys leave off."
"That's right," Jinx said. "That's exactly right."
The seriousness of his tone made Vic stop smiling. He was kidding, but he could see Jinx wasn't. Only he and Ed seemed in anyway uncomfortable with Jinx's satisfied grin. Vic shook his head. He was a new boy here. He wasn't going to step up in a few years and take over the town. What about the other young men in Denke? Surely there were others who coveted Jinx's position on the town council. He tried to shrug off the old man's smile. "So tell me about old Rudy—my grandfather, I mean. What was he like?"
"Smart," Tom Hamm said. "A hard sonofabitch. He kept a
s close to the old ways as possible. If Darwin had done the same, he'd have been mayor next."
Vic looked up. "Why wasn't he?"
"Didn't want it," Doc Stade said. "He didn't want anything to do with being mayor. It about broke your grandpa's heart."
'What did you mean about keeping to the old ways?" Vic asked. "What did my father do differently?"
"Everything," Jinx said in a sharp voice. "He defied tradition every chance he got, couldn't see that the Denke way of doing things was working just fine—had been for well over a hundred damned years. He wanted to change things."
"You mean he didn't want to farm like everyone else," Vic said. "He wanted to raise horses and own studs."
"I mean—" Jinx stopped suddenly and forced himself to check his angry tone. "I mean he didn't see things the way the rest of us did. Raising horses and owning studs was just a part of it. First thing he did was run off and marry your mama instead of the girl he was affianced to here. That made a lot of folks wonder about his commitment to the Denke way of doing things."
"Maybe he didn't love her," Vic suggested. "The local girl, I mean."
Jinx shook his head sorrowfully. "You're missing the point, Vic. But anyway, that's all water under the bridge now. Darwin lived the way he wanted and we all respected his right to do it. Didn't we, boys?"
After everyone nodded or muttered his agreement, Jinx took off his glasses to rub his greasy, wrinkled forehead.
"Are we going to tell him?" someone murmured, and Jinx abruptly put his glasses back on and shushed the man.
"Tell me what?" Vic said. He glanced at the faces around him. The old men were even more agitated. "C'mon," he said. "What gives?"
"It's town business," Jinx said stoically. "We can't bother Victor with it."
"He's one of us now, ain't he?" Bauer asserted. "We're all in this together. I say we tell him and see what he says. Call for a vote, Jinx."
"I ain't callin' for no damn—"
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