Florida Son

by W. J. Costello

  He didn’t answer immediately. He rocked his body in a repetitive motion, humming under his breath, staring at the ducks. He was silent for a long time. Then he pushed up his glasses and looked me in the eye.

  “I did it,” he said. “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged.

  “There must be a reason, Dusty. People don’t dig up bodies just for no reason. How’d you even know where Heath was buried?”

  “It’s a l-long story, Rip.”

  “I like long stories.”

  He fiddled with his watch.

  “You want to tell me the story, Dusty? I’d like to hear it.”

  He stared into space and thought about for a time.

  “Yeah,” he said finally. “I’ll tell you the story.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Everything started when Max was t-taken from Toddler Town Day Care that day. Yeah. Uh-huh. I saw him get into a black SUV with his grandparents. B-but I didn’t know they were his grandparents at the time. I didn’t know who they were. I’d never seen them before.”

  “How’d you find out they were his grandparents?”

  “H-hold your horses. I’m getting to it.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I looked at the license plate number when I saw the bl-black SUV pull away with Max inside. But then I didn’t think any more about it—not until Julie showed up at Toddler Town Day Care later that day to p-pick up Max. She looked for him everywhere but she couldn’t find him. She asked everybody on staff if they knew where he was. Nobody did.”

  “Except you.”

  “Yeah. Except me. But I d-didn’t say anything.”

  I could see he felt bad about it.

  “And now you wish you did. Don’t you, Dusty?”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything? You saw Max ride away in the SUV. You saw the license plate number. Why didn’t you tell Julie what you saw?”

  “People never believe whu-what I tell them. Everybody thinks I’m w-weird. Everybody.”

  “I don’t think you’re weird, Dusty.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “No, I’m telling you the truth. You’re not weird. You’re special. You can read eight books a day. You can remember everything you read. I wish I could do that. But I can’t. Not too many people can. It’s a gift, Dusty. You have a gift. Nothing weird about that.”

  “Six thousand five hundred and s-seventy-nine books. Yeah. Uh-huh. I’ve read six thousand f-five hundred and seventy-nine books.”

  “That’s incredible, Dusty.”

  “Thanks, Rip. You’re my fr-friend.”

  “And you’re mine.”

  That made him smile.

  His smile turned into a frown.

  “I never w-wanted to be involved,” he said. “I wanted to stay out of it. So I didn’t tell Julie about the SUV. I didn’t tell anybody about it. I didn’t think I needed to. I thought the p-police would find Max. I thought they would find him. I thought I could stay out of it.”

  I nodded.

  “But I was wr-wrong. The police didn’t find Max. They searched for three m-months but never found him. Then he turned up dead. By then it was too late. Too late for me to do anything about it. I felt so g-g-guilty. I didn’t know what to do.”

  A pause.

  “I thought about reporting the license plate number to the police. I thought about it a lot. But what good w-w-would it have done? Max was already dead. At least that’s what I thought at the time. But I later learned otherwise.”

  “How?”

  “I got online and traced the license plate number. I traced it to Max’s gr-grandparents. I rode my bike over to their house one night and stood out in the woods and watched their windows. I watched all night long. I w-watched until dawn. I never saw anybody in the windows. I was getting ready to leave when the fr-front door opened and I saw Max come out with his grandparents. He was alive.”

  “Must have been quite a surprise.”

  “It was a m-miracle moment.”

  “But you didn’t tell anybody about it.”

  Dusty shook his head sadly.

  “Why’d you keep it a secret, Dusty?”

  He shrugged. Tears glistened in his eyes.

  “I don’t always make the best d-decisions,” he said. “I have a lot of regrets. But I can’t go back and change anything. I wish I could though.”

  He wiped the tears from his face. His lower lip quivered.

  “I was so gl-glad to see Max alive. He looked happy. He looked safe. A week later I went back to the house to see him again. He didn’t see me though. He n-n-never saw me. I kept going back there week after week and he never saw me. Not even once. I always stayed hidden in the w-woods across the street.”

  “How many times did you go back?”

  “Once a week for five years.”

  “Over two hundred times?”

  “Two hundred and s-sixty times.”

  “So you watched Max grow up.”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

  “How’d his father treat him?”

  “His dad was sick all the time. His sk-skin was always pale. His hair began to thin, then fell out completely.”

  “Cancer.”

  “Yeah. Chemotherapy. Heath seemed like a good dad. He spent a lot of time pl-playing with Max. They liked to play soccer in the front yard. They had two goalposts set up and they used to kick the ball from one end of the yard to the oth-other. They laughed a lot. They had a good time together. They loved each other. I could tell.”

  “I bet you were there the day Heath’s parents buried him. Weren’t you, Dusty? I bet that’s how you knew where he was buried.”

  “Yeah. I was there that day. Yeah.”

  “You want to tell me what happened?”

  “Heath’s parents carried their son out to the bl-black SUV. He was wrapped in a blanket but I could see his face. So I knew it was him. His body was thin, not too heavy to carry. They p-put him in the back of the SUV, then drove to Lettuce Lake Park. I followed on my bike. It took only two minutes to get there.”

  “Max go too?”

  “He stayed h-home with a babysitter.”

  “So you followed them to the park. Then what happened?”

  “I hid behind a fat tree and watched them. They d-dug a grave, rolled Heath’s body into it, filled in the grave, patted down the dirt with their hands, covered the gr-grave with leaves. Then they crossed themselves and bowed their heads. After a while they left and went back home.”

  “And that was three years ago?”

  “Three years. Yeah. Max was sad for a long long time after his dad died. He used to c-c-come out on the front lawn and sit staring at the soccer ball for hours and hours. Sometimes his granddad would kick the ball with him, though not very often. I always f-felt bad when I saw Max sitting there all alone like that. I wanted to go over there and play soccer with him. But I n-never did. I never did. I always stayed hidden behind the trees.”

  “You ever see Julie’s brother at the house?”

  “I d-didn’t even know she had a brother.”

  “His name’s Moe. He was blackmailing Heath’s parents. He used to show up at their house once a month to collect the blackmail money. Moe always wears a black leather jacket—even in the summer. His girlfriend always dresses slutty—even in the winter. You ever see them at the house?”

  “No. Never. Wh-why was he blackmailing Heath’s parents?”

  “He knew Max was alive. He knew they’d kidnapped him.”

  “And he never told Julie about it?”

  “Some brother, huh?”

  “Makes me happy to be an only ch-child.”

  “Me too, Dusty. Me too.”

  He dropped some bread crumbs. Ducks gobbled them down.

  “Dusty, you still haven’t told me why you dug up Heath’s body and dragged it over to where somebody would find it.”

  “I know.”

 
“So why’d you do it?”

  “Th-the video.”

  “The one you watched in Mrs. Walker’s office?”

  “Yeah. I knew those w-were Max’s hands in the video. I knew he was alive. But Julie didn’t. She looked miserable. And I felt g-guilty.”

  “And that’s when you dug up Heath’s body?”

  “Yeah. I wanted somebody to find it. I wanted Julie to know that her ex-husband was d-dead. I wanted her to know the truth.”

  “And you also wanted us to find Max.”

  “I told you the license pl-plate number.”

  “Which helped us find Max.”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

  “Wasn’t easy for you to tell us about the license plate. Was it?”

  “I tr-tried to tell you earlier.”

  “When? At the cemetery that day? Is that why you followed us to the cemetery? To tell us about the license plate?”

  “Yeah. And at th-the campground too.”

  “So that’s why you rode your bike to our campground.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you didn’t tell us about the license plate until we met you at the Florida Aquarium. Why didn’t you tell us about it earlier?”

  “I was too scared to.”

  I turned and looked at Julie and Max. She was combing his hair. They were both giggling. It was good to see mother and son reunited.

  I turned back to Dusty.

  “Dusty, I’m glad you finally told us.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  CHAPTER 54

  IT WAS TWILIGHT when we dropped off Dusty at his house. He climbed the three steps to the front porch and leaned his bike against the porch railing. He turned, pushed up his glasses, waved good-bye.

  “He’ll probably sit down and read an entire encyclopedia tonight,” Julie said as we pulled away.

  “He’d be a great researcher,” I said. “I got his phone number in case I ever need some research done.”

  An hour later we pulled into Sarasota Oceanfront Campground. My RV lumbered quietly along the road through the campground until we reached my site. I swung into the site and parked.

  “Want some help setting up?” Julie said.

  “I can manage,” I said. “When I’m done I’ll come over and see you. Looks like your mother has some company.”

  A red Ford Mustang was parked beside Julie’s RV.

  “Maybe it’s one of her bingo friends,” Julie said.

  When she and Max had gone I began to set up my RV. First I leveled it. Then I connected the electric cord, the sewer hose, the water hose.

  The campground was quiet. No arguing. No cursing. No yelling. The Messys and the Neats were gone now. Their RVs were gone and their noise was gone.

  Nice and quiet.

  The license plate on the Mustang caught my attention. It was a Georgia plate. There was a big peach in the middle of it.

  Somebody from Georgia was visiting Julie’s mother.

  I had a suspicion.

  I walked around to the front of the car. A bumper sticker confirmed my suspicion. It said I’D RATHER BE IN SAVANNAH.

  Savannah, Georgia.

  Could it be him?

  I wondered if Julie had noticed the license plate.

  I stood looking at Julie’s RV. All the lights were on. All the blinds were down. All the curtains were drawn.

  What was going on inside?

  I stepped closer.

  Then I stood listening, expecting to hear something, a family quarrel maybe. My expectations weren’t met.

  Should I go in? Or would it be better to wait outside for a while? Wait for what?

  Maybe I was wrong about the visitor. Maybe my suspicion was unfounded. Maybe the visitor was somebody other than the person I had in mind.

  I climbed into Julie’s RV and immediately saw the visitor.

  It was him.

  It was the guy from the photo. The photo that was taken six years ago in Savannah. The photo that showed him kissing Julie’s mother and grabbing her ass. Yeah, that photo.

  Why was he visiting Julie’s mother?

  Had she invited him over?

  Or had he just shown up on his own? Hi there. Long time no see. I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by for some more kissing and fondling. Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.

  “Hello,” I said to the guy.

  He was alone. Julie and her mother and Max were nowhere in sight. Where were they?

  “You must be Rip,” the guy said. “Ruth told me all about you.”

  Really? She never mentioned you. To anybody. Ever.

  “Ruth said you used to be a deputy U.S. marshal.”

  “I was.”

  “I bet you know how to kick ass.”

  And I bet you know how to grab it.

  “Where’d everybody go?” I said.

  “Back in the bedroom. They left me out here all by myself. But now I’ve got you to talk to.”

  Swell. I knew I should have waited outside longer.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ross.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ross.”

  His handshake was firm.

  “That your Mustang out there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Nice ride.”

  “Yep.”

  “So . . . You’re from Savannah?”

  “Yep.”

  I definitely should have waited outside longer. Yep.

  “Any idea what they’re doing back there in the bedroom, Ross?”

  “Nope.”

  His face looked familiar—not just because I had seen it in an old photo, but because I had recently seen a similar face. Whose face? I had no idea. I couldn’t figure it out. But the neurons in my brain were working on it.

  The bedroom door opened and Max wheeled out Ruth.

  Julie followed. She looked angry, confused, upset.

  “Coffee, Rip?”

  “No thanks, Julie. Listen, I was just getting ready to leave.”

  She came over and hugged me.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered in my ear. “I think I’m going to need emotional support. Will you stay?”

  “Coffee sounds good.”

  “You’re the best. Do you know that?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  I took my coffee to the sofa, sat down between Ross and Max.

  Julie came out of the kitchen and sank into a chair.

  Ruth swung her wheelchair around.

  “Ross,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”

  “It’s always good to see you, Ruth.”

  “I know you’re wondering why I asked you come here tonight.”

  “And I know there must be a good reason.”

  “Two of them actually.”

  She held up the old photo that was taken in Savannah.

  “Here’s the first reason,” she said. “Julie recently found this photo of us, Ross.”

  Ross shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His face reddened.

  “I guess it’s time we told her,” he said. “I guess it’s finally time.”

  “Max,” Julie said. “Go back to my bedroom and turn on the TV. Okay, sweetie? I’ll come get you in a little bit and we can eat some pistachio ice cream.”

  When Max had gone Julie stood up from her chair and came over and sat down on the sofa beside me. Her hand held mine tightly.

  “It’s time you told me what?” Julie said. “What’s the big secret?”

  Ruth set the photo on the coffee table and slid it toward Julie.

  “This photo was taken while your father was still alive. He knew about Ross. He knew we were having an affair.”

  “Oh God,” Julie said. “I knew it.”

  “There’s something you have to understand, Julie. There’s something I need to tell you. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Go ahead, Mother.”

  “Ross and I were lovers before I ever met your father. We were high school sweethearts. We grew up in the same neighborhood. I
t was a bad neighborhood. A lot of crime. Poverty. Unemployment.”

  “Horrible place to grow up,” Ross said. “Horrible.”

  “Julie,” Ruth said, “you can’t possibly imagine what it was like to grow up poor. Your father and I always worked hard to make sure you and your brother had everything you needed.”

  “I know you did, Mom.”

  “Anyway Ross and I wanted to get married when we were juniors in high school. He proposed to me. I still don’t know where he got the money for the engagement ring. But he proposed and I said yes. We loved each other and we wanted to spend our lives together.”

  “So what happened, Mom? Why didn’t you two get married?”

  “Because of my father. He didn’t want me to marry a boy from the neighborhood. He didn’t want me to spend the rest of my life in poverty. He wanted me to marry somebody with a college education, a good job, a bright future.”

  “Somebody like Dad.”

  “Yes.”

  “So that’s why you married Dad? Just for the money?”

  “It wasn’t like that. I loved your father.”

  “As much as you loved Ross?”

  Ruth glanced at Ross.

  He winked at her.

  She looked at Julie again.

  “Your father was a good man. I loved him with all my heart. He was there for me when I needed somebody.”

  “Why did you need somebody, Mom?”

  “Because I was pregnant.”

  “With Ross’s child?”

  “Yes. But I couldn’t marry Ross. My father wouldn’t let me and I was too young to get married without his consent.”

  “So you married Dad instead.”

  “He knew I was pregnant with Ross’s child. He wanted to marry me anyway. He raised the child as if it were his own.”

  Julie sat forward.

  “Moe?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Ross is Moe’s father?”

  “Yes.”

  A pause.

  “Is Ross my father too?”

  “What?”

  “Well is he?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Julie.”

  “So Moe isn’t my real brother?”

  “He’s your half brother.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”

  “Because your father didn’t want you or your brother to know.”

  “You mean my half brother.”

  “Yes. I mean your half brother.”