The River Is Dark

by Joe Hart

  The sheriff grunted. “They found a shoe print in a muddy spot outside the rocks, as well as an empty rum bottle with Nut’s fingerprints on it a hundred feet away in some weeds. When they hauled him in, he had a gold necklace on him that belonged to Haines.”

  Liam closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. “Dammit.”

  “Yeah,” Barnes continued, his voice growing closer to a whisper. “And you better hope to hell that bum doesn’t breathe a word to those agents about talking to you. If that happens, I know nothing about those documents you have, and I’ll hang your ass out to dry if it comes to that.”

  “Gee, thanks, Barnes, so glad I could help out your little bumblefuck community.”

  Barnes’s voice rose an octave. “Listen—”

  “No, you fucking listen!” Liam said, his voice taking on an edge that silenced the sheriff. “They have the wrong man, and you know it. I chased two people through the woods this morning outside of the foundry. Suzie’s headband was hanging on a little shack out in the forest. Now, you need to get a search warrant and go over there with a full team of forensics to see what you can find—not tomorrow, today.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I got a call from both the mayor and a man named Ian Black with Colton this morning. This project is going through. Both of them said it in no uncertain terms, and with the BCA arresting Nut, what can I say? That you went trespassing and someone ran from you in the woods? They’ll fucking lock you up.”

  Liam seethed, wanting to pummel something. He raised a fist but resisted smashing it into his dashboard, opting instead for his thigh, which burned with the impact.

  “Someone’s trying to stop this thing from happening, Sheriff, and they don’t care how they do it. You can’t just wash your hands of it, retiring or not.” He heard the other man swallow and waited, hoping his words were enough.

  “I’m sorry, Liam, I am, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  Liam rubbed his forehead, his exhaustion chased away by the rage that burned inside him. “Then let me talk to Nut.”

  Again, a pause. “Okay, but just for a few minutes. He’s not supposed to see anyone. I’ll let you in the back.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Liam hit the end button without waiting for a reply, and spun the Chevy around, casting dirt and pebbles across the street as he sped toward the station.

  When the back door of the sheriff’s station clicked open after Liam knocked minutes later, he didn’t even try to meet Barnes’s gaze; his anger was still too much to contain. Barnes didn’t say a word and turned away, retreating to his office as soon as Liam stepped inside the building. Liam moved down the row of bars until he came even with the only occupied cell. Nut sat slumped like a half-empty sack of potatoes on the edge of a cot, his stringy hair hanging over his face as he stared at the floor. He didn’t look up when Liam stepped close to the bars and gripped one in each hand.

  “I’m sorry, Nut.”

  The vagrant shifted just enough to look at him through a tangle of gray hair, his face rutted with new wrinkles, his eyes beyond bloodshot. “Ain’t your fault.”

  Liam glanced up and down the hallway. “What the hell were you doing with that man’s necklace?”

  Nut glowered further, and he began to resemble an aging hound dog. “I took it from around his neck. Looked like something I could hock at the local pawn. Didn’t think about it.”

  Liam opened his mouth to cuss at the man but realized there was no point. The vagrant was lower than a well digger’s shoes. Why should he make him feel worse? The question that came out of his mouth next surprised him. “What’s your real name?”

  Nut looked up at him, the sallow skin around his eyes pulling tighter. He blinked, as if trying to remember. “Perry. Perry Collins.”

  Liam nodded. “Why do they call you Nut?”

  “’Cause I love Skippy.”

  Liam smiled wanly at the joke. Nut sighed and hoisted himself off the cot. He turned and looked out of the window in his cell, which was no more than six inches square.

  “Had a family when I was very young. Wife, boy, and girl. Had a little place out on a county road not too far from town. It wasn’t much, but we were happy.” Nut swayed as if he was still intoxicated, but Liam wondered if it wasn’t the power of the memory throwing him off balance. “Used to smoke, couple packs a day. Jeanie tried to get me to quit so many times I lost track. Loved her, but I guess the old nicotine was a little too much for me to give up. I fell asleep in my chair one night, smoking in front of the TV. Woke up in the hospital with my lungs on fire. My hair was gone, and they had to take one of my toes on my left foot since it was so badly burned.”

  Nut turned to Liam, and he saw the desolation on the older man’s face. This was where Nut lived most of his days, in his mind, waiting for the booze to file the edges off the pain.

  “They burned away in the fire, my sweet babies and my beautiful wife. They died because of me. And the firemen told me that they died of smoke inhalation, never felt the flames that turned them to ash. But I know they were lying—I could see it in their faces.” Nut lowered his eyes to the floor and shuffled back to the cot and sat. “I know because I heard them screaming. Can still hear them.”

  Liam closed his eyes. “My God. I’m so sorry.”

  Nut nodded. “So they call me crazy, and for a while I was, till I learned to self-medicate when the memories and guilt get too strong.” He pressed the heel of one hand to each eye, squashing the tears out of existence. “I didn’t mention your name, if that’s what you came here for. I threw the phone I used to call you in a pile of trash when I saw they were coming to get me.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to get you out of here, Perry. They will not hang this on you.”

  Nut raised his freshly reddened eyes to meet Liam’s. “They got me, son. I have no alibi, even if I mentioned I was helpin’ you.”

  Liam knelt at the edge of the cell, crossing his arms on the inside of the bars. “If I said the word monster to you, would that mean anything?”

  Nut squinted, working his jaw up and down for a few seconds, as if chewing on something. “What do you mean?”

  “The Shevlin kid, in his phone call to 911, he said, ‘A monster is killing my parents.’ ” Liam pulled himself closer to the bars and lowered his voice further. “This morning I went to the foundry and chased two people into the woods. I caught a glimpse of one of them through the trees, and he looked . . . strange.”

  “Strange how?” Nut asked.

  Liam ferreted in his memory for the image. The forest’s undergrowth concealed the figure except for the general shape, its head oblong, its back twisted and humped.

  “He looked deformed.” Liam watched Nut and saw him weigh something out in his mind. “What is it?”

  “People see things from time to time,” Nut said in a voice so quiet Liam could barely hear it. “Just talk mostly, of something in the woods. A few hunters have mentioned that they feel like they’re being watched, some see something moving through the forest, but no one’s ever gotten a clear look.” Nut paused, brushing away the coarse hair from his face, and stared at Liam.

  “Go on, I believe you,” Liam urged.

  “In the toughest winters, more pets go missing than usual. Cats, dogs, and whatnot. About five years ago, an acquaintance of mine from the shelter disappeared one night. We went looking for him at a little lean-to that he’d built down on the river’s edge. It was empty, but there was a set of footprints leading away from it across the river. The guys I was with said he musta got drunk and walked the wrong direction, got lost, and either broke through the ice and drowned or wandered off into the woods and froze.” Nut slid to the closest end of the bench. Liam smelled the reek of old booze and sweat coming from the man. “But I saw those footprints lead
ing away through the snow. They were too big for the man we were looking for, and too deep, like whoever made them was carrying something heavy.”

  Barnes’s door opened with a creak, and Liam jerked away from the bars in spite of himself. The sheriff leaned into the hallway.

  “You need to get going.”

  Liam raised his chin once in acknowledgment before looking again at Nut. “I promise, I’ll get you out of here.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Liam stood and made his way down the corridor, leaving Nut to stare after him from the confines of the cell.

  “This isn’t good,” Dani said, setting down her fork. Her Greek salad sat before her partially eaten, along with an almost-empty glass of red wine.

  Liam nodded from across the small table they shared, which overlooked the flowing river. He turned his beer bottle in slow circles as he looked across the water toward the deepening shadows that hung within the trees on the far shore. His attempt at eating a cheeseburger lay on his plate with only a few bites missing.

  “What are we going to do?” Dani asked.

  Liam glanced at her and then returned his gaze to the trees. “I still want you to leave town.”

  “We went over this already, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I don’t want you implicated in this thing, and I’m a hair from being pulled into the meat grinder myself. I’ll be lucky if I get out of this unscathed.”

  “God, you’re stubborn.”

  “Really? I could say the same thing about you.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Me too.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “My dad used to say the same thing.”

  “Well, he was right. Anyway, don’t you think something at Haines’s house will exonerate Nut? Some kind of forensic evidence?”

  Liam considered it. “If the killers were sloppy enough to leave a trace, yes. But I doubt they did. My guess is they came inside, hacked his hand off, and then tortured him. Then they dragged him outside and carried him the half mile or so to the spot where he was found.”

  Dani shivered. “That’s bold.”

  “Bold with balls on it,” Liam said, then glanced at Dani. Her expression looked caught between dismay and laughter. “Sorry,” he said. “Old saying of my dad’s—it just slips out sometimes.”

  “He was really special to you, wasn’t he?”

  Liam nodded. “He was the kindest, smartest man I ever knew. There’s a weird hole left when one of your parents dies. I think it’s the fact that you’re always trying to live up to their expectations, whether good or bad, and when they’re gone, you realize you’re truly on your own. There’s no one else to answer to.”

  They were quiet for a long time before Dani broke the silence. “I’m sorry that the three of you weren’t closer.”

  “Me too.” Liam sipped his beer and stared at a formation of geese paddling soundlessly in the current. “I always hoped that the rift would close. I didn’t know how to fix it since I couldn’t bring my mom back, and I think that’s the only thing that might’ve made a difference. Allen was an adult by the time I realized he hated me, and what could I do? Everything was set in stone already. He was my big brother, and I was his worst enemy.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  Liam laughed without humor. “With family, it never is.”

  Dani made as if to say something further, but stopped and pushed a piece of lamb around her plate instead. The sun glittered once more across the water before making its exit for the evening behind the serrated horizon of treetops. They paid for dinner and left the little restaurant, riding in silence to Dani’s hotel. When Liam parked beneath the awning and turned to say good night, she surprised him by touching his hand, her eyes searching his face in the twilight.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m going to speak with the agents in charge of the case tomorrow, see if they’ll tell me anything. Maybe you’re right, and they picked something up at Haines’s house and Nut’ll be released.”

  “And if he isn’t?”

  He frowned. “Then I’ll go to the council meeting and tell them they need to hold off on the vote until the real killer is caught.”

  She stared at him for a long time before gripping his hand tighter. “And you won’t do anything stupid?”

  “That’s a tall order for me.”

  “I mean it, please don’t take any chances. I know you feel responsible, but if Nut hadn’t taken the necklace, he probably wouldn’t be in jail right now.”

  “Yeah, and if I hadn’t enlisted his help, he wouldn’t be there either.”

  Dani released his hand. Liam wanted to reach out to her again, to feel her skin against his own. He wanted to slide closer to her and finally attempt the kiss that hung in anticipation between them. But he didn’t. He let her open the door and step into the evening.

  “Just be careful,” she said, and shut the door.

  He watched her move to the hotel lobby and disappear inside. Why was it always this way? Why did he always end up opposite of what he really wanted?

  “Because you’re an asshole,” he answered himself, and put the Chevy into gear.

  As he drove through the quiet town, he tried to unweave the myriad clues that prodded his mind like a rock inside a boot. He felt no closer to finding those who were responsible, and the frustration burned in an internal wash of acid. He arrived at his hotel, and was deep in thought when the desk clerk stopped him as he walked toward the stairway.

  “Oh, Mr. Dempsey?”

  Liam angled toward the counter. “Yes?”

  “Someone left this for you.”

  The clerk set a dingy envelope on the counter, Liam’s name barely legible on the front. He picked it up, staring at the unfamiliar, looping script.

  “Who sent it?”

  The clerk shook his head. “I’m not sure. I went to the bathroom a couple of hours ago, and when I came back, it was sitting on the desk.”

  “Thank you,” Liam said, moving again toward the stairs.

  When the door of his room clicked shut behind him, he pulled the straight razor from his pocket and slid its edge beneath the envelope flap. The blade cut through the envelope with a hiss, and he returned it to his pocket. A single folded piece of paper lay inside. He opened it and read the few words scrawled in the same hand that graced the front of the envelope.

  I stopped by but you weren’t here. Meet me at Allen’s tonight at ten. I have something to show you. —Barnes

  The flaring anger that had plagued him all afternoon when his mind turned to the sheriff lessened. Perhaps he’d found something of importance, something that would help free Nut if used correctly.

  Liam traced the pencil lines with a fingertip, then glanced at the clock beside his bed. It was almost time.

  CHAPTER 14

  The Chevy’s headlights cut through the night surrounding his brother’s house and lit up the front windows in shining squares.

  Liam guided the truck to a stop before the garage and put it in park. He checked his rearview mirror and then looked at the dash. The sheriff’s car was nowhere in sight, but he was a few minutes early. He waited in the cab, the garage doors awash in the Chevy’s low beams. He reached for the stereo knob, but listening to music was the equivalent of whistling in a graveyard, and he let his hand fall to his lap. His mind began to spool through the facts again, and he wondered if he’d missed something within the house. Maybe that was what the sheriff wanted him to see.

  Liam snapped the keys backward and shut the truck off, a vacuum of sound rushing into his ears. He opened the door to dispel the discomfort, letting the distant chirping of frogs and the rustling of leaves take its place. The pale light within the truck extinguished when he shut the door, and darkness overtook him. The breez
e that caressed the trees felt good against his face, cool in contrast to the heat that cloaked the daylight hours. He gazed up at the sovereign blue of the night sky and saw a half moon hanging amidst the glow of light pollution from the town below. The moon looked cancerous, eaten away by the unforgiving space around it.

  Liam moved to the front door, rummaging in his pockets until his hand closed over the house keys. He unlocked the door and slid his hand along the wall until he found the light switch, illuminating the room with a flick of his finger. Everything was the same as the day before. He moved deeper into the house, letting his mind roam as the intuitive side attempted to take over and shut out a voice that kept speaking to him in buried tones of the past.

  He walked around the bloodstains, and saw his brother driving away from their father’s house in his beaten-up car. It was before Allen opened the clinic, and their father had handed him a thousand dollars they couldn’t spare as he left. Liam remembered watching Allen drop the money on the floor and shrug off his father’s attempt to hug him.

  He moved down the unlit hall to the master bedroom, turning on the light when he got there. The bed where Allen and Suzie had slept looked comfortable and just right for the space. Suzie. He thought about her face, up close as he danced with her at the wedding. How happy she looked in the DJ’s flashing lights. She’d laughed as he twirled her, her gown billowing out in a cloud of opal and pearl.

  Liam turned the light off and moved to Allen’s study. He stood in the black of the room, smelling the leather of the books on the nearby shelf; the dryness of paper; something tangy—old wine, maybe. The weight of residual life crashed upon him, pushed him down until he realized he was on his knees near his brother’s desk. There were tears on his cheeks but he couldn’t remember crying them. The moon looked in at him through a high window, and he wished it would leave him be. He wanted to sleep on the floor where his brother once moved and loved and lived. He wanted a part of Allen that he’d never been able to touch or know for himself. His brother was gone, erased from a negative spot in his life that Allen possessed only as a ghost while alive. And now, it was as if he had never existed at all.