The deputy continued. “It seems more likely that you and Bill got into a fight out in the woods and Bill took a swing at you with a knife. I know the boy. He’s a hothead, and with his family situation, he’s got a lot to be pissed about. Maybe him laying down his ATV and you having to save his punk ass set him off.”
“Excuse me,” Dad interrupted. “Did the doctor or nurses show you a picture of the wound before they sewed it up?”
Bowie shook his head. “Nope. They show you?”
Dad nodded. He fished his phone out of his pocket. “I spoke to them on the way here. Once they verified that I was his father, they sent me this.” An image of the bloody gash on James’ left cheek filled the screen. James winced at the sight of the long open wound. That’d leave a scar for sure. “What kind of knife would that kid have to be carrying to cut that shallow and that wide? A knife wound would be deeper and narrower.”
The deputy turned away from James. “And what would you know about knives?”
“I paid my way through undergrad working at a Longhorn Steakhouse, then interned as a clerk for a public defender and for a prosecutor.” The proud shadow of a smile crossed his face. “The skillset’s more transferable than you’d think. I know what it looks like when somebody gets cut by a knife. Whatever knife that kid was carrying—if he were carrying at all—wouldn’t leave that kind of wound.”
The deputy regarded Dad coolly for a long moment before turning back to James. “As I said, Bill swings at you with a knife.” James nearly screamed, but the deputy went on. “You push him into the pond and run like hell for your ATV. Maybe you panicked and thought some of the tree branches were arms. I’ve been to that area before, and it’s right spooky. If you’re flipping out because that kid took a knife to your face, it’d be even worse.”
James was beyond wanting to scream. Now he wanted to throw something at the fat hick. The deputy had his own scenario in mind and didn’t want to be confused with the facts! Then his stomach tightened. Or maybe he knew something about just what it was and was trying to cover it up? Just like in Jaws, or any number of knockoffs since. That possibility was even worse.
“Where’s Bill, then?” Dad asked. “My son had to drive quite a bit before coming out of the woods, and Bill still had his ATV. There was time for him to catch up.”
The officer shrugged. “Maybe he hit his head and lost consciousness, or got tangled in tree branches under the surface and couldn’t get free. We’ve called in a dive team from Henry County to look around, but if the body came up, the coyotes might’ve gotten to it.”
James scowled. Bullshit. Coyotes wouldn’t swim into the middle of a pond for a body. Even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to totally destroy it. Especially not in the short time since the thing had taken Bill.
Yep. Definitely a cover-up.
The deputy eventually gave up trying to get James to claim Bill had attacked him and let him and Dad leave the hospital. There was a stern warning about not trying to get the others to change their stories, as though James were some goddamn gangbanger who’d lean on witnesses.
The deputy’s interrogation paled beside the wrath unleashed by Mom and Dad when they got home. Dad had ridden the whole way in silence, ignoring James’ one attempt to make conversation. James knew there was going to be hell to pay. He was right.
“Do you know how goddamn lucky you are you’ve got a lawyer for a father?” Dad demanded. James sat alone on the brown leather couch in the living room. Mom sat in the patterned chair, while Dad paced like a watchful tiger in front of the white fireplace. Karen had been sent away, but no doubt she’d be able to hear it upstairs. “Who knows what they’d have badgered out of you at the hospital with your face all mangled like that and nobody recording it!”
“I’m telling the truth! Bill and I didn’t get into a fight. There was something—”
“Let’s get one thing out of the way first,” Mom interrupted. “Have you taken any drugs? Lots of the local kids do drugs and since you were hanging out with them—”
James nearly screamed. They’d told him his whole life not to do drugs! He’d always listened, and now, on the worst day of his life, they’re acting like he hadn’t listened? James sighed. “No! I’m not on any fucking drugs. How the fuck could I afford drugs having to give you most of my paycheck?”
“Oh don’t bring that up again!” Dad interrupted. “I don’t know what the hell happened out there, but none of this would have happened if you hadn’t been so stupid as to get into some pissing contest with some idiot kids.” He looked straight at James. “When was the last time you drove an ATV, anyway?”
“A couple of years ago, when we visited Uncle Jim’s place out in Ala—”
“Fine.” He paced the carpet. “Now a kid is probably dead, and you’re the most logical suspect. Do you think they’re going to let this go just because I talked them into letting me take you home? They’ll turn the screws on Maad or Katie—”
“They wouldn’t—”
“They would if they were forced to,” Mom interrupted. “Maad’s parents aren’t citizens as far as I know, and how popular do you think a white girl dating an Indian is going to be down here? If the police want them to, they’ll claim before you went off on that stupid race you said you were going to kill that boy.”
That was something he hadn’t thought about. It did seem like something the hicks around here would do. Even if they couldn’t have Maad’s family deported, Maad might not know that. Not only would the local jury be quite willing to believe a “carpetbagger” had murdered one of their own, but the deputy was clearly hiding something. If they decided to give up trying to pin the blame on a dead kid who couldn’t defend himself and play hardball…
“The main thing that’s likely to save your ass is your face and the fact you’d wet yourself.” James reddened at the reminder. “That’s not something an aggressor does. But even with that, they could claim you attacked Bill, and he knifed you in self-defense. The shock of it caused you to piss yourself before you shoved him into the pond.”
“But you said that wasn’t—”
“Working at Longhorn’s twenty years ago doesn’t make me an expert witness in knives. Neither does clerking on the criminal side. That might’ve worked on that deputy, but it’s not going to cut the mustard with a prosecutor and a jury. Especially a jury around here that wants to avenge one of its own.”
“Why on Earth did you even agree to this stupid race?” Mom demanded. “What made you think this was a good idea?”
James sighed inwardly. What did Mom know? The girls Mom grew up with back in Raleigh or the ones at UNC Chapel Hill when she was in college wouldn’t look like cowards if they backed down from a fight. And from what he’d known of Karen’s friends, girls his age wouldn’t either. This was something she wouldn’t understand, and she shouldn’t act like she knew better.
He told Mom the same story he told Dad and Bowie. She didn’t take it very well.
“James Andrew Daly! I thought you were more mature than this! Looks like I was wrong. You, young man, are grounded for the next three months.”
Enough was enough. “Two months,” James retorted.
Mom raised her eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you set punishments in this house.”
“I turn eighteen in two months.” Silence fell. Now James had really done it. In for a penny, in for a pound. “You tell me none of this would have happened if I hadn’t agreed to meet up with Bill and his friends for a race. And you know what? You’re right.” His lips skinned back from his teeth. “But this wouldn’t have happened if we’d stayed in Buckhead!”
Mom threw her hands up in the air. “Here we go again. More of this crap.” Her eyes locked on his. She leaned forward. “If you move out, how are you going to survive?”
“I can find a job.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Where are you going to live? And all ‘your’ stuff’s really ours. You’d be leaving here with just the clothes on your back, without your
car, and–”
Dad’s gaze fell on Mom. “Andrea.” She scowled, but shut up. He turned to James. “Don’t be an idiot.” He pointed to the wound in his face. “That’ll take a while to heal, and my insurance—such as it is—is going to go a long way to help make sure it doesn’t scar. And what if it gets infected and a doctor has to clean it out and sew it up? That’ll definitely cost you.”
He sighed. “Had I known the economy was going to collapse, we wouldn’t have moved. But we owe more than this house is worth, so we can’t just sell it and move back. We’ve got to make the best of this until home prices rebound and this isn’t helping.” He sighed. “If it weren’t for this, I’d be glad you’re actually meeting new people instead of just hanging around with the same three kids when you’re not driving back up to Buckhead.”
So that was why Dad was so resistant to just selling and moving home. Despite himself, James had to admit that made sense. Pity it took this happening to get him to actually admit it.
He looked at Mom and then back at James. “I agree with your mother. You’re still grounded until this blows over, if nothing else to keep you from doing anything that’d look like witness tampering or getting into more trouble.” He leaned forward. “You’ve never given us any reason to distrust you before, but I agree with the deputy that this is pretty far-fetched. Is there anything you’re not telling us? Are you sure you didn’t get into a fight with that kid?”
James sighed. “Yes I’m sure! When he wrecked, I helped pull the ATV off him! If I wanted to fuck with him—”
“James!”
Dad looked at Mom, then James again. “Don’t use that word in this house.”
“Fine. If I wanted to mess with him, I’d have left him there. He could’ve gotten out from under the ATV on his own sooner or later.”
“And if he had died, you’d have been responsible,” Mom added. “I don’t know about legally—that’s your father’s department—but morally…”
James nodded. “Yeah, but I didn’t. I stopped to help him and then that, that—” The image of the thing with too many limbs and too many eyes rising from the water roared back into his mind. Once more Bill rose into the air, impaled on the claws tipping the monster’s tentacles. Blood everywhere, so much blood.
It hit him then. Bill was dead. Bill was dead because something had come out of the goddamn water and eaten him. In front of James. And James was too weak to stop it. He would have if he could. Bill was going to have a kid. That kid now wasn’t going to have a dad because—
“That…thing.” James managed to force the words from a mouth grown choked. Not as choked as Bill’s mouth had been with the claws buried in his chest, filling his mouth with the blood of his mangled lungs.
A tear dripped down his face. James clenched a fist. He didn’t cry when the doctors examined him. He didn’t cry when that redneck deputy interrogated him. He sure as hell wasn’t going to cry now.
Despite his efforts, another tear slid down his face. He inhaled, clearing his nose of the sobbing-snot that was starting to collect. “I didn’t kill him,” he insisted. “It killed him.”
He looked down at his feet on the fancy rug. He wasn’t a child. He shouldn’t be crying, no matter what. Another tear dripped down his nose and landed on his right thigh.
Someone sat to his right. A quick glance showed it was Mom. She slid an arm around him. “It’s all right,” she murmured. “You’re home safe now.”
Despite himself, James let himself sob.
Chapter Seven
The clearing where the congregation met was crowded tonight. Where there were usually only around fifteen or twenty gathered in the circle the lantern light carved from the darkness, now there were nearly thirty. And many looked angry.
Phillip resisted frowning. They were here because of Bill Aiken. They were here because Edington blood had been shed, innocent blood, only two days before.
Well, relatively innocent. He’d gotten a girl in a family way and hadn’t to Phillip’s knowledge offered to marry her. As the father of a daughter and now a grandfather too, he didn’t approve one single, solitary bit. But there was a difference between that and some drunk making it hard for honest men and women to operate their businesses downtown. That hurt all of Edington, not just one family.
He pulled the hood of the cloak that once belonged to a Creek medicine man forward, hiding his face. He emerged from the darkness and held up his hands for silence. The dark muttering vanished immediately.
Phillip allowed himself to smile. This was a lot easier than he’d thought. The smile faded. Appearances could be deceiving. “Brothers and sisters,” he called out, voice loud in the quiet. “As always, it is a joy to see so many of you assembled here tonight to worship.”
“Praise Him!” many in the crowd responded, almost automatically. That was good. Maybe the congregation wasn’t turning mutinous, but it was never a good idea to assume.
“Most of the time we’d begin with a song,” Phillip continued. “But I think some changes are in order tonight. Let’s start with the concerns of the congregation.” Phillip’s gaze swept the crowd. There. Standing taller than most of his compatriots was County Attorney Zebulon Redding. His thin lips were pursed. His green eyes, normally cool and collected, burned with anger. “Brother Zebulon?”
He stepped forward between Phillip and the congregation, his every move shaking with energy. Phillip raised an eyebrow as the man drew in a deep breath. “Y’all know that new strip mall going in on the west side?” Phillip almost snorted with disdain. Of course he did! The first new construction in Edington in two years. Everybody in town knew all about that. “Well, in addition to some of our folk they’d hired, they’ve also brought in some Mexicans.”
Unlike some, Phillip didn’t have a problem with Mexicans, at least not in large numbers. They were good, hard workers, and family-oriented. They’d left their homes in search of a better life elsewhere and once they’d saved up enough money, most went back to where they came from. Still, he intended to let the other man speak his piece.
“My little girl told me this afternoon that when she’s been riding her bike to school past the construction site, some of them have been leering at her.”
Phillip leaned forward. That’s how it would start, with a look. Then they’d start following her in a van until they had the chance to snatch her without others seeing. He’d heard of similar things before. The dark muttering began again. This time it was directed at someone a bit more deserving.
“I told the man running the site, an Edington man like us, to have a word with them. Maybe in Mexico the age of consent is eleven, but it sure as hell isn’t here. But he wouldn’t listen. He told me they might look, but they’d never touch.” His jaw set. His fists clenched at his sides. “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
Quick as a striking snake, Redding drew a folding knife from his pocket. Out popped the blade, which he laid against the flesh of his right palm. “I don’t want some animal ruining my daughter. If it takes my blood to send Him forth, so be it.”
Phillip raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t argue with a man wanting to protect his daughter from some lowlifes, not easily. But he doubted Redding had done all he could before bringing his concerns to Him. He would want His followers to take responsibility for their own lives rather than immediately begging for His help.
“Brother Zebulon, you are the county attorney. Surely you can arrange for a surprise check on their papers. Might rattle some enough to seek work elsewhere and put the fear of God in the rest.”
Redding rolled his eyes. “I’d thought of that. The sheriff said immigration’s a federal matter and he doesn’t want to tangle with the feds. And even if they get sent back to wherever, what’s to stop them from ruining someone else’s daughter?” A cold smile split his face. “This way they’ll never hurt any children, ever.”
Phillip nodded. “A fair point. Anyone else?”
John Thomas, still burly despite bein
g a decade older than Phillip, pushed his way to the front. Phillip raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t seen him in the woods in nearly a month. “I’ve got a concern,” the older man began. “I bet I’m not the only one who does.”
The elephant in the clearing had just sounded its trumpet. Phillip felt almost relieved. Now was the time to do, or die. “What is this concern, Brother John?”
“Bill Aiken, my great-nephew.”
Phillip had to think fast. This was not how things worked. He would kill those who threatened His worshipers’ lives, prosperity, or peace of mind. Bill Aiken wasn’t a member of the congregation, but he hadn’t wronged anybody in it either.
Phillip smiled. “That’s a good question.” That bought time, but Thomas wasn’t the patient sort. The thought of siccing Him on the man bubbled up from the depths of Phillip’s brain, but he pushed the thought aside. Feeding Him fellow congregants was almost unheard of. They’d disposed of traitors, of course, but Thomas wasn’t one.
An idea occurred to Phillip. This’d get the attention back on the outsiders like the perverts at the construction site or the carpetbaggers where it belonged.
“Bill’s blood is on his own head.” Thomas’s eyes bulged. His huge hands curled into fists. Angry words raced through the assembled worshipers. It was clear they loved their boy more than their god. “Bill should have made an honest woman out of Sarah but instead he burdened her with a bastard. Judgment begins at the house of God.” He didn’t believe in the Bible he was cribbing from, but most of the congregation at least had some church. That’d resonate.
The muttering subsided but didn’t vanish. And Thomas still looked pissed. Fortunately, now came the scapegoating part.
“But although sins must come, woe to him whom through they come!” Phillip shouted. That got some congregants’ attention, including Thomas’s. “Bill should have married Sarah when he knew. Many of you had been in his shoes before and unlike him, made the right decision. But why did you, and not he, make the right decision?”
The Thing in the Woods Page 6