by David Bell
“You can have my wallet,” Jason said.
The man let go of Jason’s arm completely. “I don’t want your wallet. Or your car.”
Jason took in the face under the cap. There was something familiar about it. And then the man leaned back in the passenger seat, and he pushed the hat back on his head, revealing more. It had been nearly twenty-seven years, but Jason knew the face right away. Older. More wrinkled. A scar ran from the corner of the left eye out to his hairline. But he knew the face.
He was sitting in the car with Jesse Dean Pratt.
* * *
Jason’s heart thumped. “Where’s my sister?” he asked.
Jesse Dean acted like he hadn’t heard. He wasn’t even looking at Jason. He stared out the front windshield of the car as though he were contemplating the scenery. And there was nothing to see out there. Just parking lot and buildings. Few cars. And no people. Jason realized he was sitting on his phone. He had stuffed it in his back pants pocket before leaving the office.
“Where is she?” he asked again.
“Shut up,” Jesse Dean said, looking over. He still didn’t sound angry. By not raising his voice, he seemed more menacing to Jason, like the quiet before a bad storm.
Nobody said anything. Jesse Dean looked at Jason, studying him, then passed his eyes over the interior of the car. He shook his head. “I don’t even think I remember you from school. Are you sure you went there with me?”
“I was a little behind you,” Jason said, picking up the scent of cigarettes and a trace of alcohol, as though the liquid were leaking through Jesse Dean’s pores.
The man made a noise low in his throat. It might have been a laugh. “I was behind everybody.”
“You knew my sister, Hayden Danvers.”
“I knew her,” he said. “Sure. She told me she had a brother. I remember some skinny kid with preppy clothes. She’d point you out and say, ‘That’s my big brother,’ and I’d think, That little turd is related to Hayden?” He shook his head. “You never can tell, though. I have a cousin who’s a history professor at Ohio State. I bet you can’t believe that, can you?”
“Sure.”
“Sure you can’t or sure you can?”
“I can believe it.”
“I can too. Guy was always an asshole.”
Jesse Dean’s voice carried the country twang that a lot of the locals spoke with, and beneath that, his voice possessed the husky timbre of someone who had smoked for many years. Jason imagined that mornings for Jesse Dean consisted of a lot of coughing and throat clearing. Despite his calm demeanor, Jesse Dean gave off a sense of power. He looked like a man ready to fight, someone who didn’t doubt his ability to prevail in a physical confrontation.
“What do you want?” Jason asked.
“What do I want? What do you want? You’re the guy who showed up at my house, bothering my wife. For all I know, you’re the one who sent the cops around. So let me ask you—what’s your problem? You’re wanting to know where Hayden is?”
“That’s a start.”
“I don’t know where she is,” Jesse Dean said. “Knowing her, she probably fell into a bottle somewhere.”
“She was with you. Someone saw you together.”
“A few days ago? Sure, I hung out with her a little bit. She came back into town and looked me up. We used to be friends, so we went out the one night. That’s it. We had a good time, and then we moved on. Maybe she went back to that little house of hers in Redman County.”
“You’ve been there?”
“I know things.”
“Was Hayden drinking?” Jason asked.
Jason couldn’t look at Jesse Dean after he asked that question. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“Which do you care about more?” Jesse Dean asked. “Where she is, or if she was drinking?”
“You already said you don’t know where she is,” Jason said.
“Let’s just say that some things about Hayden seemed different. She was older. Not quite as sexy as she used to be, but that happens with age. Her clothes were better. But she still knew how to have a good time. I’d say it’s hardwired into her, like in her genes or something, but that must have skipped you.”
“Did she say where she was going when she left?” Jason asked.
“Nope. And I don’t care. You shouldn’t either. You can go back to your nice little life here and to your house with your wife and your niece—”
Jason looked up at the mention of Sierra.
“I know the girl’s staying with you,” Jesse Dean said. “Hayden told me.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “She told me she figures you and your wife think you’d be better parents for the girl anyway, seeing as how you have some money and jobs and stability and all that. Hayden . . . well, if she’s here partying, she’s probably not doing much to hold on to that job she has in the dentist’s office in Redman County, is she?”
“Was Derrick with you? Have you seen him?”
“Derrick?” Jesse Dean scrunched his forehead as though he was trying to place the name and match it to a face. “He lives in Indiana. He’s a Hoosier now.”
“So you haven’t seen him?”
“He’s your brother-in-law. Ex, I guess.”
Jason felt both physically and emotionally lower. He sank into the seat, his shoulders slumping as if under pressure. He said, “They found Hayden’s car up at the Bluff. The keys were still in it, and there was some blood on the seat and in the trunk. We don’t know where she is, and we’re worried about her. She has a daughter. You have to understand that. Do you have any children?”
Jesse Dean considered Jason for a moment. Then he said, “I have a boy. He’s up in Michigan with his mom.”
“So you understand that it’s important for Hayden to get back to her daughter. Her daughter needs her. Now, do you have any idea where she went? Or where she might be?”
Jesse Dean used his index finger to trace random patterns on the passenger-side window. Jason thought he wasn’t going to say anything else or answer the question, but eventually he lowered his hand into his lap and said, “I have a theory about these things. They have a way of working themselves out.”
“What does that mean?”
He started tracing on the window again. “It means you need to stay out of it. Just back away and remove yourself. None of this is a thing for you to be involved in.”
“What do you mean by ‘this’? Do you know where Hayden is?”
“Whatever Hayden is here for. Just . . . stay the fuck out of it.” He spoke with more authority and emphasis than he had at any time since he’d climbed into the car. He punctuated his words with short karate-chop-type gestures. “Some things are beyond you, you know? Your sister travels in a different world from you. Working in a dentist office doesn’t change that. Okay?”
“If she’s in trouble, maybe I can help her. That’s what I’m trying to say. How do I know she doesn’t need something from me, and I don’t even know where she is?”
“Just stay out of it, Professor. Swim in the shallow end of the pool, okay? And if the police come to my house again because they say you told them something about me . . . I’m giving you a freebie here because I don’t think you know what you’re doing. And because I’m friends with Hayden. But if there’s another knock on my door like that, whether I’m home or not . . . I just can’t let that stand.”
Jesse Dean looked like a man struggling. His words as well as the look on his face told Jason he was trying to suppress some deeper impulse, one that would have likely resulted in the infliction of pain upon Jason. Jason felt sweat forming near his hairline. He was hot. He wanted to start the car, to at least get air circulating somehow. He felt like he was in a cage with Jesse Dean, but he didn’t want the man to get out. When Jesse Dean grabbed the
door handle and pulled, Jason reached over and placed his hand on Jesse Dean’s left arm, an instinctual grab. He didn’t want to hold on to the man. He wanted to hold on to the surest bet he had for finding Hayden.
Jesse Dean whipped around. He brought his right hand up and pressed its palm against Jason’s throat, driving Jason’s head back against the seat. Jesse Dean applied steady pressure. Jason felt his airway tightening, but he couldn’t turn his head or slip free. Just as Jason felt the air completely shut off, Jesse Dean let go. He lowered his hand and pulled back. Jason’s head slumped forward. He raised his own hand to his throat and placed it there, massaging the skin while the air came back with coughs and gasps.
“Don’t do that,” Jesse Dean said. “I told you. You’re in over your head here. You’re going to get fucked.”
Jason’s air came back. He cleared his throat several times.
“You’re okay,” Jesse Dean said, his voice still calm. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“That’s reassuring,” Jason said.
“I’m going now,” Jesse Dean said. “Pretend you didn’t see me if the police ask. I’m leaving Ednaville anyway.” He reached for the door again but didn’t push it open. “If Hayden doesn’t come back . . . well, just remember that everyone makes their own choices in this life. Okay?”
When Jason spoke, his throat felt scratchy and raw. He believed he could feel the bruises forming. “Hayden’s car? The Bluff? Do you know anything about that? They found a body up there, but it’s not hers. It’s a skeleton. They’re going to stop looking for Hayden. Should they keep looking up there? Do you at least know that?”
“A skeleton?” Jesse Dean said. “I saw that on the news.”
Jason waited for him to say more, but he pushed the door open and left, slamming it closed behind him. Jason looked up. He saw someone in the cab of the truck next to Jesse Dean. The face looked over at Jason, laughing. It was Rose. Rose Holland. Before Jason could do or say anything else, Jesse Dean was in the pickup and driving away, the broken taillight looking back at Jason like a jagged smile.
Chapter Twenty-eight
When Jason arrived at home, he found Nora and Sierra watching a movie in the darkened living room, a bowl of popcorn and several empty Coke cans on the coffee table before them. They were sitting close to each other on the couch, their bodies supported by pillows brought down from the bedrooms. Jason didn’t recognize the movie they were watching. On the screen, a man sat in a bar discussing his girlfriend with his best friend.
“You’re trapped, man,” the friend said. “You can’t live with her, and you can’t live without her.”
Nora looked up without pausing the movie.
“We decided we needed a break,” she said. “Something to take our mind off of everything.”
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
“We’ve both seen this one before,” Sierra said. “We’re just getting to the good part.” She didn’t look back at the screen. She kept her eyes on Jason.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. She tried to put on a brave face, but Jason still saw the burden of Hayden’s disappearance in her eyes. “Aunt Nora is a good playmate.”
“Good.” He didn’t know what else he could say. “I’m heading upstairs to change.”
“Hey,” Nora said. “I wanted to show you some mail that came today.”
“Do you want me to pause it?” Sierra asked.
“No. Not unless he gets to the train station. I want to see that part.”
Nora followed Jason up the stairs. He started to undress, taking off his shirt and slipping out of his pants. Nora came into the room and closed the door behind her.
“What gives?” he asked. “You don’t even look at the mail.”
“What happened to your neck?” Nora asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing? Jesus.” She stepped forward. “I didn’t see this in the dark downstairs. It looks like someone tried to choke you.”
“They did.” He told her about Jesse Dean climbing into the car and his warning to back off. While he told the story, he found his hand reaching up and gently touching the irritated skin around his neck. He suspected it would hurt worse in the morning. “I think he knows something. First he denied that he knew where Hayden was, but then he started saying things that made me believe that wasn’t true. I don’t know. That’s the sense I got from him.”
“Are you going to tell Olsen?” Nora asked.
“Tell him what? They already know about Jesse Dean.”
“He assaulted you.”
“Sure. He also made it very clear to me that he knows where I live. And that he knows Sierra is staying here. He didn’t phrase it as a threat, but it sure sounded like one.”
“All the more reason to call the police.”
“We’ll see. The guy’s always been a maniac.”
“Sounds like it.”
Jason looked at his throat in the mirror. He saw the angry red mark on his skin. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever talked to Jesse Dean. Maybe I said hi to him or something in school. He was always this mythological figure to me, larger than life. He seemed smarter than I expected.”
“Most sociopaths are smart.”
Jason turned away from the mirror. Nora was sitting on the bed wearing shorts and a Mets T-shirt and had her hair pulled back with a headband. She sat far enough back on the bed that her feet didn’t reach the floor, and she swung them around in circles while they talked.
“You might be right,” Jason said. “But there was something about him. It was as though he was telling me that I shouldn’t assume things about him, that I shouldn’t look for easy answers when it came to him. Or Hayden.”
“And then he choked you?”
“I didn’t say he was all soft diplomacy. Why are you up here anyway? Did something happen?”
Nora reached into her shorts pocket and brought out a slip of paper. She held it between her thumb and forefinger. “We got a call today.”
“The police?”
“Derrick.”
“Derrick? What did he want?”
“He wants to talk to you about Sierra. Apparently, I’m not good enough to hear whatever he has to say. He didn’t say what exactly was on his mind. He was kind of evasive to be honest.”
“What did he say to Sierra?” Jason asked.
“He said he didn’t want to talk to her yet. I was relieved about that. We’d just come back from the video store, and she was making the popcorn when the call came. I took it in the other room. He did ask how she was doing, and I said she was hanging in there as best she could.”
“Did he ask about Hayden?”
“Not really. He asked if there was any news, and I said there wasn’t.”
Jason came over and took the paper from her hand. He unfolded it and saw a phone number with an Indianapolis area code. “Did he sound . . . I don’t know . . . unusual in any way?”
“He seemed pretty calm,” Nora said. “Not that he and I have ever had much to say to each other.”
“And you didn’t tell Sierra he called?”
“No,” she said. “I felt like a shit keeping a secret from her, but I figured it was best until we knew what he wanted. Why disrupt her mind even more? Do you think that was the right thing to do?”
“Yes, it was. I’ll call him.”
Through the closed bedroom door, they heard Sierra call for Nora. She stood up and opened the door. “Is it the train?”
“Yes.”
“Be right there.” Nora turned back to Jason and spoke in a low voice. “Find out what he wants. But don’t take any shit from him, Jason. Don’t let him convince you of anything.”
“What would he convince me of?”
Nora pressed her lips together like
she was holding something back. “I’m terrified he’s going to say he wants to come and take Sierra away from here.”
“I know,” Jason said. “But if he wants to do that—”
“Talk him out of it. That’s what you need to do. Talk him out of it. Man to man and all that shit. Just turn him in another direction.”
“We don’t even know what he wants, okay?”
Nora still looked upset. She pressed her lips together again and looked away from Jason.
“I hear what you’re saying,” he said. “I do. I’ll do whatever I can. I will. I’m going to see what’s on his mind.”
“Fine,” Nora said. “I just . . . This is important to me.”
“I know.” They stood awkwardly before each other. “Hey,” Jason said. “At least I can’t get choked through the phone.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Jason closed the door behind Nora. He placed the paper with the phone number on the nightstand. He tried to remember the last time he had spoken to Derrick. If he hadn’t seen or spoken to Hayden in five years, it had to be longer than that for Derrick. Six? Seven? He and Derrick had always carried on a cautiously respectful relationship. Without saying it out loud, both men seemed to accept that they were vastly different from the other, and so they confined their talk and interactions to the most superficial topics. Sports. Weather. Jason realized something was about to change with his former brother-in-law. They were going to have to have a real conversation, either about Hayden or Sierra or both.
Derrick’s voice had always sounded thin, like something in his lungs wasn’t providing enough air to create full volume. And the voice fit the makeup of Derrick’s body. He was a tall, reedy guy, and looking at Sierra, it was easy to see where she got her length and height.
“Derrick? It’s Jason.”
Jason didn’t know how much time—if any—the two of them should spend on pleasant formalities. Should he be asking what Derrick was doing with his life? Did any of that matter in the midst of a crisis?
Derrick made the decision for them. He didn’t waste any time in getting to the business at hand.