“I been thinking about it, about what you said. I’ve known you a long damn time, Henry, and you’re a son of a bitch sometimes, but you’ve never been a liar.”
“Why would I lie, Del? Why would Eve?”
“That’s my point. So I wanted you to know. I wanted to tell you myself, it’s gonna stop.”
Henry set the bucket down and leaned against the post, looking at his brother clearly for the first time since he’d arrived.
“I don’t have all the details worked out yet, but it’s gonna end.”
“You’re talking about the pay-offs?” Henry asked, just to be sure they were on the same page.
Del shook his head.
“Not just that. The whole thing. I’m gonna bring ’em down, if I can. But even if I can’t, I’m gonna run them out of town. I’ll burn that shack to the ground if I have to.”
Del’s face blazed with an almost religious fervor, and in that moment, Henry was hit by Del’s resemblance to his father.
“I don’t want to get Brady involved too deep, if I can manage it. But I wanted you to know. Because however this shakes down, Eve’s gonna be a target.”
“She already is,” Henry said, lifting the bucket and heading for the chicken coop.
“Dad had a run-in yesterday in town with one of the men from the shack,” Del said.
“That so?” Henry asked. He knew that already. Jonah had seen it and told Helen Sue, who’d told Henry. Jonah hadn’t known who the man was, only that he was a stranger with three fingers on one of his hands, but it hadn’t taken long for Henry and Ms. Watson to figure it out. But it seemed best to keep that piece of information to himself.
“What kind of run-in?”
“Somebody asking questions. Dad sent him off with his tail between his legs, but that means they’re not done with her, Henry. Not done with her, and not done with you.”
“You talked to your dad yesterday?” Henry asked lightly.
“Not really. He did most of the talking. Or shouting, if you want to get technical. Going on about those degenerates running loose in his woods, and what the hell I was gonna do about it.” Del sighed and scratched at his head. “I just let him, because I’d been wondering the same damn thing myself.”
“Why don’t you just go in there and arrest them?” Henry asked. But even as he posed the question, he knew the answers would be a problem.
“Well, I could, Henry. But the truth is, I don’t really fancy going to jail myself. Nobody would listen at first, if they started telling tales about paying off the local law. But Brady’s not stupid, no matter what he looks like, and eventually it would occur to him that I had to get that money from someplace. A little bit of digging, and I’m sunk, brother.”
“Then what exactly are you gonna do, Del?” Henry asked, truly curious.
“I’ll figure it out, man,” Del said. “I will. But I can’t do much of anything until they come back to town. So keep your eyes open, will you? Let me know if you hear anything going on over there, or if anybody comes by asking questions, okay?”
Del had always been the type to show up late to the party. But Henry nodded all the same.
“Of course,” he said.
“Not a word to Alice. I’ll tell her everything, if I have to. But I don’t want to lay it all on her if I don’t need to.” The look in Del’s eye was pleading, and considering Henry was on new and intimate terms with his own set of secrets, he could empathize.
“All right. But don’t go doing anything stupid,” he added.
“Get Dad to call me when he shows up. I want to talk to him again, see if I can get anything else out of him.”
That wasn’t ever going to happen, but Henry just nodded, swallowing his own serving of guilt.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Three days and nights passed, and Henry felt each hour drag by, weighted down as he was with the knowledge of what had transpired. The barrel holding Livingston’s remains may as well have been tied directly around his ankle.
It was a thin, shaky tightrope he was walking now. He’d gone to see Ms. Watson the day before, nervous that he was putting it off too long.
“Not yet, Henry. Patience, son,” she’d counseled.
But their lives hung in the balance, and he found his store of patience tested to its limits.
Del hadn’t said anything about his dad yet, but it was only a matter of time. Livingston had been acting peculiar lately, unpredictable. But it was still out of character for him to fall off the face of the earth for so long. If Del didn’t take notice soon, it would be up to Henry to raise the alarm. It didn’t make any sense that he wouldn’t.
But first, he needed to finish the job he’d started.
Tonight, he thought. It has to be tonight. I can’t wait any longer.
He was decided.
The phone in his pocket vibrated, shaking Henry out of his thoughts. His brows drew together when he saw who was calling. Henry hoped like hell he hadn’t just hung himself on his own rope.
“Del,” he said, answering the phone.
“Henry, we need to talk.”
Henry sighed. “Yeah. We do.”
“I’ve decided I’m gonna get in touch with the state police,” Del went on. “Turn this whole thing over to them and let the chips fall where they’re gonna fall.”
“I thought you didn’t want to involve anyone else?” Henry asked.
“Yeah, well, if the state boys come in and pick them up, it’s out of my hands. These guys, the traffickers, they’re gonna know there’s nothing to gain by adding bribery of a law enforcement officer to their charges.”
There was a pause.
“You don’t sound entirely convinced,” Henry pointed out.
“I’m not. But that’s the best I’ve got, man. If it comes up, it’ll be my word against theirs. Unless the state boys decide to dig deeper. But they won’t. They won’t.” Del let out an unconvincing sigh. “It’ll be out of my hands anyway. I just thought you needed to know.”
Henry opened his mouth, then shut it again. He debated whether he was doing the right thing, but it was too late for that. It was the only thing he could do. It didn’t make any sense for him not to speak up.
His time had run out.
“There’s something else, Del,” Henry said, his heart pounding double time in his chest. “It’s important. Or it might be anyway. Might be nothing. It’s about your dad.”
“What about him?” Del asked, the irritation evident in every syllable.
“He hasn’t come home.”
“Yeah, you said he’d been keeping weird hours. Probably in town, yelling at people from that stupid-ass trash can again.”
“That’s the thing, Del. I was in town yesterday, and no one’s seen him. Not for a couple of days. Has he been by your place?”
“No. The last time I saw him was three or four days ago. Right after he got into the argument with the stranger in the middle of town.”
Henry held his tongue, letting Del digest the words that had just come out of his mouth.
“You’re telling me no one’s seen him since then?” Del asked slowly, the magnitude of the situation finally taking hold.
“That’s what I’m saying, Del.”
There was an explosive crash on the other end of the phone, and Henry imagined that whatever it was wouldn’t be easily mended.
“Damn it, Henry! I’m on my way over. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
The line went dead.
Henry had set the wheels in motion. God help them all.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Del stared at the bloody mess in the shack. His face had lost all color, and Henry wondered if hell was real. Because if it was, he’d surely have a place saved for putting his brother through this.
When Del had made it to Henry’s house, the two had talked it over, considering the possibilities.
“Maybe he’s wandered out into the swamp, gotten hurt or something,” Henry had suggested, hating the lie
s that fell from his lips.
“Maybe,” Del said, standing on the front porch with his brother. “I’ll pull together a search party, but first, I think there’s someplace we need to check. Come on.”
Henry knew he was going to lead him to the shack in the woods. Knew it as surely as he’d ever known anything. Del couldn’t ignore the fact that Livingston had gotten into a confrontation with a man who was a suspected associate of the traffickers in the woods.
Henry knew what they’d find too. But that didn’t prepare him for the whoosh of air that escaped Del’s lungs when he caught sight of the scene in the empty hunting cabin.
“Jesus,” Henry whispered. His own shock was real. He’d last seen the place by dim flashlight. Under the unrelenting light of day, it looked so much worse.
Del took a hesitant step inside the doorway, and Henry couldn’t help wondering what was going through his mind.
He moved to follow, but Del held up a hand.
“Don’t,” he said. “This is a crime scene.”
“Jesus, Del,” he said again.
“He’s dead. Look at this place. They’ve killed him, Henry,” Del said, looking up from the floor and meeting Henry’s gaze. There was stark, unfiltered pain in his face. “Those sons of bitches killed him.” His voice was low, shocked.
Henry saw again the body of Livingston crumpling at his feet.
“But why?” Henry asked. His voice was odd. He wasn’t a practiced liar, and he’d been forced to utter more untruths in the last hour than in the rest of his life combined.
“Who the hell knows,” Del said, the words leaking out of him weakly like a punctured tire. He glanced around the room, his eyes wide. “For being a nosy, belligerent asshole probably.”
“There’s no way to know what happened here,” Henry said. “Maybe this isn’t Livingston’s blood. Maybe he’s passed out drunk in King’s place under one of the tables.”
Henry sounded like he really wanted to believe that was true. Because he did really want to believe that was true, even when he knew it wasn’t.
“For three damn days? King would have called one of us to come and get him, Henry. Don’t be stupid. No,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s too much blood here. Somebody died, and that’s a fact. And the only person who’s missing is Dad. God damn it!” Del said, angry now.
Henry watched helplessly as the different emotions played havoc with his brother’s expression. He didn’t know what else to say, but he was spared the necessity as Del stormed past him and out the front door of the shack.
Del took his radio from the clip on his belt.
“Gladys, you there?” he asked.
“Yeah, Del. Whatcha got, hon?”
“I need you to get in touch with . . .”
Del stopped and turned, staring at the shack that stood at his back. Henry thought there might actually be tears in his eyes. Henry hadn’t seen him cry since Mari had died.
“God damn it!” Del shouted, pushing away the grief and replacing it with a sharp, hot anger.
The radio crackled, then Gladys’s voice came back across the line.
“I’m sorry, Del, I didn’t catch that.”
For a moment the radio hung limply from his hand, and Henry waited. The right thing to do was to call in the state police now, or the crime scene unit out of Cordelia—probably both. Henry knew it. Del certainly knew it too. Knightsbridge County wasn’t big enough to handle this sort of thing on its own.
He held his breath.
“Del? You still there, hon?” came Gladys’s voice.
Del ignored her, turning his attention to the twin tracks of the path that led out of the woods. It didn’t take too much imagination for Henry to figure out that Del was following them backward in his mind, straight back to the men he was certain were responsible for this.
“Del?” Gladys’s voice came again.
Henry watched his brother stand up straighter, his decision made.
“Never mind, Gladys,” he said into the radio at last. “Hey, if you see Brady, send him out to Henry’s place, okay?”
“Sure thing, Del,” Gladys replied. Henry could hear the faint confusion in her voice.
“Del,” Henry said. “What are you doing?”
His brother turned and looked him in the eye. “What I should have done months ago. I told you I’d take care of things, and I will.”
Del turned and started walking back through the woods toward the house. Henry trotted to catch up.
“Del, what about . . . I thought you were bringing in the state guys. You’re not just going to leave that mess out there?” Henry said, gesturing at the shack receding into the trees behind them.
“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I told you I’d take care of this, and I am.”
“But . . . but how, Del? You don’t have the resources, the manpower. The state police are better equipped to handle this kind of thing, aren’t they?”
Del stopped and faced Henry dead-on. His face was like concrete that had begun to set, hiding the maelstrom of emotions that ran underneath. The only thing that showed clearly was rage.
“Yeah. Yeah, they are, but this is personal now, Henry. I’m not fetching coffee for the state police while they go out and track these guys down and pick them up. I’ll do it myself, by God.”
Henry hadn’t expected this. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this.
“It’s the least I can do,” Del said, quietly. He turned away and headed back down the path.
“And then what, huh? What happens then?” Henry called to his brother’s retreating back.
But Del’s silence was the only answer Henry got.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Brady and Del were arguing in the yard. Henry could hear the yelling all the way inside the house.
Apparently Henry wasn’t the only one who thought Del’s approach was questionable at best.
Eventually, the two men stomped their way into the house, their heated words having given way to a tense silence between them.
“Sit, both of you,” Brady said to Henry and Eve.
After a glance at one another, they did as he asked, side by side on the sofa. Henry held her hand tightly, grateful there was at least one person in the room he didn’t have to lie to.
Because, for the two men in uniform, he was about to have to go into a tap dance like they’d never seen.
“Tell me everything. And I mean everything,” Brady said, his little black notebook flipped open in his hand, his pen poised to take down the flood of untruths Henry was about to unleash.
The lies tripped off Henry’s tongue easily, though they didn’t sit gently on his conscience. No, they hadn’t seen Livingston in days. No, they had no idea where he stayed on the nights he didn’t come home. No, they hadn’t heard anything unusual in the woods, hadn’t seen any signs of anyone coming or going. Everything was a shock, such a shock.
Henry knew, though, that there was one thing that still needed to be discussed, and he didn’t want to do it in front of Eve.
Henry, glancing over at Eve, asked Del if they could speak outside. He didn’t want to discuss her uncle in front of her, didn’t want her to relive any memories that hearing his name might cause. After Del exchanged a glance with Brady, the two brothers left him questioning Eve and stepped outside, shutting the door behind them.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Del asked, his voice harsh and unrelenting once Henry told him about Gus’s visit.
“Her uncle showing up was the reason Eve told me all that stuff about the men in the woods, Del. About the women and children, the attack. She was terrified and traumatized, and rightfully so. It seemed a lot more pertinent that you were taking money from these guys to damn well protect them, which is something I learned from Gus, by the way.”
“Keep your voice down,” Del said, glancing around.
“I thought you said you were gonna let the chips fall wherever they were gonna fall? What
the hell happened to that, huh?”
“Things are a little bit different now, wouldn’t you say? I think I’ve got bigger problems on my hands at the moment than a few bribes. Like who murdered my father!”
“Del, you don’t even know if he was murdered,” Henry said. “There was no body.”
“Henry, were we seeing the same thing? Nobody loses that much blood and walks away. And if he did, where the hell is he?”
“That blood could belong to anybody. It could have been one of them. Hell, it could have been an animal,” he said.
Henry had no idea why he was trying to convince Del that what he believed had happened out at the shack wasn’t exactly what Henry needed him to believe. He’d orchestrated it that way, and it had worked. So what was he doing?
“It wasn’t an animal!” Del yelled. He pushed out a breath and visibly struggled to keep himself under control. “It wasn’t an animal. Nobody slaughters an animal inside. And this town is awfully small, Henry. There isn’t anyone else that hasn’t come home. I would have damn well heard about it. Now stop. It was Dad. You know it, and I know it. Just stop.”
Henry knew he should. Del was right. He clamped his jaw shut, wondering if there would ever be a time in his life when he wouldn’t have to lie and whether he’d remember how to be honest when the chance came to make a true statement.
“Now tell me about Eve’s uncle again. I need all the details you can remember,” Del said.
So Henry told him.
By the time Del and Brady left, Henry felt like he’d been hollowed out from the inside.
But he couldn’t stop now. Henry knew he had more to do.
There was a barrel waiting for him out in the swamp. And a missing man that needed to disappear for good.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
“Henry, son,” Ms. Watson said with a shake of her head. “I really think you’re making a mistake. Wait till all this dies down, I’m begging you.”
She was standing on the end of the pier. The night was thick around them when Henry stepped into the pirogue. The overhead floodlight was entertaining a swarm of bugs high above their heads and outlining the two of them in a bright circle.
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