by Doc Macomber
“If you’d like to say goodbye to your grandson, join us outside.”
Without a further word, they all marched through the living room and out the front door.
“How does an educated guy with a beautiful estate like this chain up his son in a pigsty?” Weaver said to Costa.
“Or let his family live in squalor?” Costa added.
Jeb was throwing a football to Bart in the front yard and didn’t notice his grandfather’s expression as the group approached.
“The kid’s got a great arm,” Bart said, catching a pass.
“Deputy Colefield!” Jeb shouted. “Deputy Ryan told me you played college ball. Give me your best shot.”
Costa and Weaver gave Colefield a warning look as Bart handed the ball to his partner.
“OK kid,” he said. “I’m gonna throw you a pass so hot it will set your hair on fire.” And with that Colefield cocked his arm and unleashed his best pigskin missile.
Chapter 16
As the patrol boat shoved off from the dock, Colefield jumped aboard at the last minute and joined Costa, who was talking on her cell outside the pilot house. Bart had the helm. Deputy Weaver was gazing back with an odd expression at the Scarbough barn. Scarbough’s grandson, Jeb, had planted himself at the helm, shoulder-to-shoulder with Bart, picking his brain about every knob, gauge and control. Bart was doing his best to answer the boy’s many questions, clearly enjoying the teachable moment and not paying attention to the heavy current that was pushing hard on the stern, nosing the boat back toward shore. Weaver snapped out of his funk and shouted at Bart. Surprised, Bart looked up, reached out and grabbed the wheel and throttle at the same time. He pulled the throttle back a notch and straightened out the bow.
Costa signed off on her cell call. “Child Services will meet us at the marina.”
“We could do this at my office.” Colefield was thinking out loud. “Save time. After that you could have Child Services escort while you drop him back off with his grandfather. It’d be great if we could hold him overnight – give us more time. But CS won’t let that happen. We’ll be lucky if they let us get in ten words.”
“We need more time.” Costa frowned. “This kid’s too smart. He’s already got Bart wrapped around his little finger. He’ll try the same with you or me.”
Sure enough, Bart was chattering like a monkey with the Scarbough boy, pointing out this gadget or that, drawn in by the boy’s enthusiasm.
“Unlike his sister, he knows how to manipulate and charm,” Costa said. “But there’s something about him that kind of creeps me out.” Costa shrugged. “Something is just off about him. I want to find out what it is.”
“Once Child Services gets ahold of him, our hands are pretty much tied. If we’re going to find out anything, it’s now or never.”
Costa appeared to be thinking it over. “It may not be admissible if he does tell us something of value. A lawyer could say it was coercion.”
“I’m just saying … if the boy is anything like his grandfather, playing it by the book will get us nowhere.”
“Scarbough really shot you?” Costa asked.
“Yes. Nearly took my head off.” Colefield pointed to his scarred cheek. “He doesn’t think the rules apply to him. And most of the time they don’t.”
Costa nodded. “You never mentioned it when we were dating. In fact when I mentioned your cheek one time you told me you hurt yourself shaving.”
“I think I said something about having a close shave.”
Colefield’s reply didn’t generate even the hint of a smile from Costa.
“Shall we do it together or separately?”
“You’re in charge of this case.” Colefield knew the idea of not waiting to find out what the boy might be sitting on had her intrigued. And thinking.
“Good cop? Or bad cop?” he asked.
“What do you think?”
Colefield followed Costa into the pilot house and stood directly behind Bart while Costa circled around to the right side of the two men and faced Jeb. Colefield leaned forward and whispered something into the Deputy’s ear. Bart stepped back from the wheel.
The young deputy told the boy that they’d continue the lesson later. “See you later.”
“Alligator,” Jeb replied with a wide grin as Bart exited the wheelhouse, closing the door behind him.
As soon as the Deputy was gone, Costa squared her shoulders and frowned over at the smiling boy.
“Look, Jeb, we know you and Timmy went hunting that day. Just tell us what happened.”
Jeb didn’t flinch. “I didn’t go hunting with Timmy. I said that already. We were planning to but dad never showed. Then Timmy said he wanted to stay in and hang with Penny. So we called it off and I got ready to split in the boat. Then he shows up all dressed up to go hunting.”
“Did he have a gun with him?”
“No.”
“Why do you think he changed his mind?”
“Timmy said Penny’s stupid boyfriend showed up at the last minute.”
“Where’d you go?” Colefield asked.
“I motored over by the Point, dropped Timmy ashore and left. He said he just wanted to go flush birds.”
“And?”
“I took the boat out for a spin. I went back later for him and I couldn’t find him anywhere. I motored up and down the Channel looking. It was starting to get dark so I came back home, thinking maybe he had wandered back on his own.”
“You hear any gun shots?” Costa asked.
“Plenty of them. It’s hunting season.”
“If you didn’t go hunting, how do you explain the ducks?”
“What ducks?”
“The ducks we found in the sink when we showed up at the house.”
“I shot those.”
“So you two did go hunting?”
“No. I shot them from the boat after dropping him off.”
“We’re gonna need to examine that gun,” Colefield said.
“It’s at my grandfather’s house,” Jeb replied helpfully.
“So how does it make you feel that someone killed your stepbrother on your watch?” Costa asked.
Jeb’s face slammed shut.
Colefield glanced down at the boy’s hands. Jeb was flicking his thumb back and forth. The joint was either stiff or he got a thrill out of popping it in and out of its socket. What this suggested was anyone’s guess, but it wasn’t insignificant.
“Hey!” Colefield winked at Costa and then looked back at the boy. “You want to try your hand at the helm?”
Jeb grinned. “Sure.”
Colefield stepped aside and turned over the controls.
“You really think he’s capable of driving this boat?” Costa huffed.
Colefield said. “He’s been captain of his own boat many times.” He then looked over at Jeb. “This is just a larger version of your grandfather’s skiff, right? You’ve probably driven boats since you were in diapers.”
“It’s not his boat, it’s mine. He gave it to me.”
“You’re sure he didn’t give it to both you boys?” Costa prodded.
“You heard him yourself. He told you the boat belonged to me.”
“But your grandfather took a shine to Timmy, didn’t he?”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Penny.”
“Penny liked Timmy because he’d listen to her crap. She’s always talking shit.” Jeb looked to Colefield. “You know what I’m talking about. You met her.”
“So you didn’t get along with your stepbrother?” Costa stared with steely eyes.
“I never said we didn’t get along. We just didn’t have much in common. He was a lot younger than me and he wasn’t looking for a big brother.”
“Penny said you were jealous of her relationship with him. And you resented that he got to live with his grandparents and away from all the Anita and Dave drama.”
“Jealous? I could leave any time I wanted to and stay with my own grandfath
er at his estate, not some little shitwater shack.”
Colefield reached out and bumped the throttle up a notch. The boat rose up out of the water, the bow climbing up onto a breaking wave, planing over its surface like a knife smoothing the frothy filling of a freshly made soufflé.
“Look, we just want to hear your side of it, without your family hanging around. I figured you’d prefer talking in private.”
“Ok. But what about telling my granddad you would be questioning me in front of Children Family Services?”
“We’ll do a formal interview with them,” Colefield said. “Right now we’re just talking.”
“Tell us a little about your relationship with Timmy,” Costa asked. “What sorts of things did you do together? Hunting? Fishing? Did you ever let him pilot your boat when you were out together?”
“No. He wasn’t a natural at those things like I was.”
“What do you mean a ‘natural’?”
“In Alaska, before we moved to Oregon, I used to go out commercial fishing with my dad.”
“And?”
“I was a kid who did all kinds of dangerous stuff. My dad said it came naturally to me.”
“Like what?”
“In the beginning they let me ride along and pilot the boat sometimes. Then the guys gave me a baseball bat and showed me how to kill fish. Where to club the head. When we hooked a shark they taught me how to use a .22 to shoot it in the water. I was only seven or eight at the time, but I got really good at it.”
Colefield admitted to himself that he too had been taught to kill – first by his father, then the Navy and finally the Sheriff’s Department. So in some respects, he and the kid were not so different. Yet there was a difference.
He remembered his own experience as a youth when he tried to club a Ling cod he caught by Haystack Rock, off the Pacific coast. He had to beat it senseless to kill it. But there was no joy in it for him. And he couldn’t eat it after seeing it die and feeling his own blood lust. Unlike Jeb he wasn’t a ‘natural’ at killing, though the line that divided them might be a fine one indeed.
Colefield eased back on the throttle. “That’s pretty impressive.”
Costa perked up. “So you smashed a few fish heads. Something that probably gave the guys who had already spent a lifetime at sea a cheap thrill.” Costa shifted gears. “What about when your parents divorced? Were you still living in Alaska then?”
“Juneau. Penny and I were both born in Juneau.”
Costa went out on a limb. “Is Juneau where your mother committed suicide?”
Jeb’s face reddened. “No. Mom had moved to Anchorage after she and my dad split up. That’s where she died. Afterward, we moved back to Oregon and stayed with my grandfather until dad found work. For a while he talked about going back. I knew it was just a pipe dream. He couldn’t go back there. None of us could after all that had happened.” Jeb hung his head. “Then he met Anita.”
“Are you talking about the accident?” Costa continued.
“It didn’t have to happen.” Little beads of sweat broke out on the boy’s forehead.
“Penny mentioned something about the accident while I was driving her to the other side of the island,” Costa said. “Since I had time at the office yesterday, I dug up the accident report and investigation. I haven’t shared this with my colleague yet so I hope you don’t mind if I get him up to speed on this.”
Colefield turned and stared at Costa as if he’d been blindsided. It wasn’t an act.
“Your mother was a bus driver. Had been for several years. One day she was bringing you and some Boy Scouts back from a jamboree. You got rowdy as kids do. Your mom turned to tell everyone to settle down just as someone threw a paper airplane. It struck her in the eye. She lost control of the bus and drove off an embankment. Three children died on the scene and a number of others sustained injuries. Your mother was seriously injured as well and was airlifted to a hospital. You were unhurt and left behind to fend for yourself.”
“I didn’t know where they were taking her. Everybody was screaming and crying.” Jeb’s thumb jerked furiously.
Costa continued. “After the dust settled, there were some questions about what really happened that day. The paper airplane was never found. The kids’ stories seemed conflicting at best.”
“It wasn’t her fault.”
“I never said it was,” Costa replied.
“Penny wasn’t there. I was. The kid who did it, his dad was a hotshot attorney and sued the School District. They put the blame on mom. She couldn’t take it.” Jeb turned toward Colefield looking for something.
“Your dad must have taken the suicide hard. Felt guilty about the divorce and all. That’s probably contributed to his drinking problem.” Colefield empathized with the kid. “I suspect that’s why Penny acts out like she does. She’s got no female role model.”
Costa grabbed the ball. “You on the other hand, are a model citizen. No record of any kind. It appears that you excel at whatever you do, despite what happens to the rest of your family.”
Jeb’s eyes narrowed. He returned his attention to the controls. “What’s this switch do?” he asked Colefield. Without waiting for an answer he flipped it. Suddenly the boat crested the river. It rose as though an enormous hand pushed the hull up out of the water, freeing it from space and time. The jarring movement knocked Costa off balance but she regained her footing by clutching onto a handrail. Jeb smirked.
“Looks like you figured it out on your own.” Colefield let out a little sigh and glanced over at Costa. “They’re called trim tabs,” Colefield went on to explain. “They control the height of the bow. How it rides over the waves. They have to be adjusted just right in order to have a smooth ride.”
Jeb nodded. “Like the difference between sinking and swimming. One wrong move and you’re dead.”
Colefield reached out and flipped the switch in the opposite direction. The bow began to sink into the water, rather than ride above it, and the boat began to slow down.
Costa swallowed hard. “If we’re finished with the carnival ride try telling us one more time about the day Timmy went missing.”
“I told you. I split. When I came home, Anita was plowed again. Penny was screwing her lame boyfriend. So I didn’t hang around. I threw the birds in the sink and left to stay with my grandfather.”
“How’d you get there?” Costa asked. “You didn’t take your boat.”
“I drove an old tractor that was at our place.”
“Why?”
“It was getting dark and I thought I might see Timmy walking home.”
Costa shook her head like she didn’t believe a word the boy was saying.
It wasn’t Colefield’s turn but he stepped in anyway. “Are you sure you are telling us everything?”
“Believe what you want. What I know is that your girlfriend is deliberately trying to piss me off.
Colefield reacted, but Jeb was watching Costa whose face revealed nothing.
“Nice try,” she said. Her lack of response ignited Jeb.
“Why should I feel remorse for a stepbrother I barely knew? He didn’t even live with us. He never listened to me. And look what happened….”
“Listened to you, how?” Colefield asked.
“What?”
“You said he never listened to you. What do you mean?”
“Just that he was hard-headed. Look, I tried to show him things. Teach him, you know, but he would rather play with Penny than learn anything from a big brother.”
Colefield sensed something else was at the heart of the matter. But it would have to wait. He added it to the growing list of questions.
“Did Timmy have his own gun?” Costa asked
“A Winchester. Twelve gauge.”
Colefield was still musing on the fact that the kid had picked up on Tam and him. The kid was way more observant than he had anticipated.
“We didn’t find a gun with the body. What do you think happened to it?”
Costa asked.
The boy’s face remained calm. “I already told you. Timmy just went to flush birds. He didn’t have his gun.”
“Where on the island did you and Timmy usually hunt?”
“West and East sides.”
“You use the blinds or field hunt?”
“It depended on the type of bird we were hunting.”
“So both of you were pretty knowledgeable hunters and knew what you were doing?”
“I consider myself a good hunter and an expert marksman,” he said with a gleam in his eye. “Like most everything I do, I’m good at it.”
Colefield figured the kid would break down by now. All they needed to do was twist his story back on him and the kid, if he was lying, would stumble. But so far, the only stumbling was between him and Costa.
Costa grew impatient. “Tell us more about Juneau after the accident. What was your home life like?”
The boy’s index finger twitched. “My mother was in a wheelchair. She couldn’t use her legs. She lost her job. My parents started fighting all the time. But mom always loved me. Every day when I left for school, she’d say ‘See you later.’ And I’d say ‘Alligator’. After they divorced and she moved away, I’d pretend she was still there in the mornings saying it when I left for school.” Jeb hung his head. “Then one day, my dad told me she was dead. That she’d killed herself. After that I couldn’t pretend anymore.”
That explained the beaming look Jeb gave Bart when he said “See you later,” Colefield mused. He too had been more close to his mom than his dad.
“You and Penny have any problems readjusting when your father remarried?”
“For a while it was OK. Anita got dad to think about something other than death. But it didn’t last. One day I came home and Anita was crying and dad was drunk and screaming at her. Later I found out she’d been pregnant and had lost the baby. Dad blamed her. Things were never the same after that.”
That fit what Colefield had heard from Tom Farmer. “How did you feel about the baby?”
“I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t even know about it before it was over.”
“How about when you found out you would have Timmy as a stepbrother?”
“It didn’t really matter one way or the other. Timmy didn’t come around that often. Either we did stuff together or we didn’t. I happen to like hunting and fishing and boats. Like I said Timmy was more into video games and chick stuff. He hung with Penny more than me. You should talk to her about it.”