Indelible

by Karin Slaughter

  Lena asked, “Should I try to pass them anything?”

  “No,” Wagner said. “Not at this point. We need to establish some trust. They’re going to pat you down head to toe.” She glanced at Lena’s shoe. “If they find anything, they’re going to be angry, and they’re going to take it out on someone. This someone might not be you, so before you take any risks, you need to ask yourself if it’s worth jeopardizing the lives of the people around you.”

  “Okay,” Lena said, shifting her weight. “I’m ready.”

  Wagner stared at her for a beat. She smiled ruefully. “Sweetheart, you can piss on my face, but don’t tell me it’s raining.”

  Lena was caught out, but she tried not to show it.

  Wagner glanced down at Lena’s shoe again. All she said was, “Be careful.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Monday

  Jeffrey trudged back through the woods, his socks bunching from the wet earth. He stopped by a tree, using it to lean on while he peeled them off. The rain was barely more than a memory, and the air was filled with mist as the sun evaporated it up to the clouds. Jeffrey wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as he walked into the cemetery. The sun was sharper in the open graveyard, and the sloping hill with its jutting white markers seemed like teeth in the big mouth that was trying to swallow him.

  Reggie was sitting in his cruiser with the door open, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He stayed where he was, making Jeffrey come to him. The asphalt was blistering against Jeffrey’s bare feet, but he was damned if he’d show it.

  Reggie gave a leisurely glance down at the wet athletic socks Jeffrey held in his hand. His lip curled up in a sarcastic sneer, but Jeffrey didn’t let him get out whatever shitty thing he wanted to say.

  “Take me to the station,” Jeffrey ordered, climbing into the passenger seat of the cruiser.

  Reggie took one last suck on his cigarette before closing the door. He cranked the engine and let it idle for a few minutes. “Where’s your girl?”

  “She’s fine,” Jeffrey told him. Despite the fact that she had been scared out of her mind seconds before finding the bones, Sara had insisted on staying with them while Jeffrey went to get help.

  Reggie rested his hand on the shift for a moment before putting the car in gear. He took his time merging onto the interstate and drove the posted speed limit into town, waving at folks out the window like he hadn’t a care in the world. Jeffrey tried not to show his irritation, knowing Reggie was doing all this on purpose, but as they crawled past the high school at twenty miles per hour, he had to let off some steam or he would explode.

  “Is there a reason you’re going this slow?”

  “Just to piss you off, Slick.”

  Jeffrey stared out the window, wondering how much worse this day could get.

  Reggie said, “You wanna tell me what’s going on here?”

  “No.”

  “That’s your prerogative.”

  Jeffrey gave a low whistle. “Big word.”

  “I thought you might be impressed.”

  “Your sister teach you that?”

  “You shut up about my sister.”

  “How’s Paula doing?”

  “I said shut up, you fucker,” Reggie said, his voice a low warning. “Why don’t you ask me how my cousins are doing? How they’re getting by without their father? How it feels for all of us when we get together and my uncle Dave’s not there?”

  Jeffrey felt all the guilt his words could bring and more. Still, he said, “I’m not my father’s keeper.”

  “Yeah,” Reggie said, making a sharp turn into the sheriff’s station parking lot. “That’s real convenient for you. I’ll tell that to my cousin Jo when she graduates this fall and her daddy’s not around to congratulate her. I’m sure it’ll be a real comfort.”

  Jeffrey grabbed his wet socks off the floorboard and got out of the car before Reggie cut the engine. He walked into the building, ignoring the secretary and the deputy who was leaning over her desk as he went back to Hoss’s office, opening the door without knocking.

  Hoss looked over the newspaper he was reading when Jeffrey closed the door. “What is it, son?”

  Jeffrey wanted to sit down, but something stopped him. Instead, he leaned against the wall for support, the weight of his fears catching up with him. He looked at Hoss’s office. Like the man, nothing had changed in the last decade. The fishing trophies and photographs of Hoss on his boat were still around, and the folded American flag that had been on his brother’s coffin when they brought his body back from Vietnam was still given a place of prominence on the shelf by the window. After his brother had died, Hoss had tried to join up, but his flat feet had kept him out. He always joked that the Army’s loss was Sylacauga’s gain, but Jeffrey knew he did not like to talk about it, as if having flat feet made him less of a man.

  Hoss prompted, “Jeffrey?”

  “We found some bones.”

  “Bones?” Hoss asked, creasing his newspaper in a tight fold.

  “In the old cave me and the boys used to use when we were in junior high.”

  “Out on the edge of the quarry?” Hoss asked in a careful tone. “Probably just a bear or something.”

  “Sara’s a doctor, Hoss. She knows what human bones look like. Hell, even if she didn’t, the damn thing was laying out on the rocks like she was taking a nap.”

  “She?” Hoss asked, and all the air went out of the room.

  A knock came at the door.

  “What is it?” Hoss demanded.

  Reggie opened the door. “I was just—”

  “Give us a minute,” Hoss barked, his tone inviting no dissention.

  Jeffrey heard the click of the door, but his eyes were on Hoss. The old man seemed to have aged about a hundred years in the past few seconds.

  Jeffrey reached into his pocket and pulled out the chain he had found in the cave. He held it up, letting the gold heart-shaped locket twirl in the light.

  “It doesn’t prove anything,” Hoss said. “She went to the cave a couple dozen times. Everybody knows that. Hell, she told them herself.”

  “Sara won’t let this go.”

  “I thought y’all were leaving this afternoon?”

  “I talked her into staying another day before all this happened,” Jeffrey told him. “Even without that, she’ll want to see this through.”

  “I don’t see giving her a choice.”

  Jeffrey felt the heat of his remark and the underlying warning. “I don’t have anything to hide,” he said, hearing the false bravado in his own voice.

  “It’s not a matter of hiding anything, Slick. It’s about burying the past and getting on with your life. You and Robert both.”

  “No matter how much of a bitch Lane Kendall is, she deserves to know this.”

  “Know what?” Hoss asked. He stood from his chair and walked to the window. Like Jeffrey’s, his office had a stellar view of the parking lot. “We don’t know anything right now.”

  “Sara will find out soon enough.”

  “Find out what?”

  “Her head was bashed in,” Jeffrey said. “Someone killed her.”

  “Maybe she fell,” Hoss suggested. His posture was ramrod straight, his back to Jeffrey. “You ever think of that?”

  Jeffrey said, “Then we should let Sara figure it out.”

  “Could be it’s not even her,” Hoss tried. He turned back around and seemed to have collected himself. He reached out to Jeffrey, asking for the necklace.

  Jeffrey handed it over, saying, “She wore it all the time. Everybody saw it.”

  “Yep,” Hoss agreed. He took out his pocketknife and pried open the heart-shaped locket. He palmed the charm and held it out for Jeffrey to see. Baby pictures had been crudely cut into the shape of the heart and glued into either side. A strand of blond hair curled around the photograph on the left, a small piece of twine holding the ends together.

  “Two different babies,” Jeffrey
said. One photo was in color and the other in black and white, but it was still easy to tell that the child on the right had a shock of dark black hair, while the one on the left was fair.

  Hoss turned the necklace around to look at the photos. He gave a heavy sigh and closed the locket before handing it back to Jeffrey, saying, “Hold on to this.”

  Jeffrey did not want to, but he took the necklace and tucked it back into his pocket.

  Hoss said, “I told Reggie to wait for you back at the funeral home.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You need to go talk to Robert.”

  “He didn’t seem too interested in talking to me this morning.”

  “He is now,” Hoss said. “He called the station looking for you.”

  “Sara’s waiting back at the cave with the body.”

  “I’ll run go fetch her.”

  “She won’t give up on this,” Jeffrey repeated.

  “On what?” Hoss asked. “Could be some bum walked into the cave and forgot to come out. Could be somebody fell and hit their head. Could be a lot of things, right?” When Jeffrey did not answer, he reminded him, “You’ve got nothing to hide.”

  Jeffrey remained silent. They both knew that he did. Things were going downhill faster than he could keep up with.

  Hoss gave him a hard pat on the shoulder. “I ever let anything bad happen to you, son?”

  Jeffrey shook his head, thinking that the words were no great comfort. Hoss had proven more than a few times that he was not above bending the law to keep Jeffrey and Robert out of trouble.

  Hoss flashed one of his rare smiles. “It’ll be fine.” He opened the door and waved in Reggie as he asked Jeffrey, “What happened to your shoes?”

  Jeffrey looked down at his bare feet. They should be digging in the sands of Florida by now. He should be rubbing suntan lotion on Sara’s back and front and every other part of her body while she laughed at his jokes and looked at him like he was the second coming.

  Hoss asked, “What size are you?”

  “Ten.”

  “I’m an eleven and a half.” He asked Reggie, “What size shoe do you wear?”

  Reggie looked embarrassed, as if his answer would be the punch line to a joke. Still, he said, “Nine.”

  “You’re stuck with mine, then.” Hoss took a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them to Reggie. “Run go fetch my boots out of the back of my truck.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hoss’s boots smelled like he had worn them ankle-deep in fish guts. Considering the dried scales stuck to the soles, Jeffrey guessed that was exactly what he had been doing in them. Steel-toed with leather uppers, they were hot as hell and heavy as lead. Jeffrey did not even have to look at them to hate them. If he could have gotten away with not wearing anything, he would have gladly gone barefoot.

  Growing up, Jeffrey had always been forced to wear hand-me-downs or used shoes and clothing bought cheap from the Baptist church’s quarterly yard sale. He hated wearing other people’s stuff, and when he was old enough, most of his shoplifting was done at the Belk’s in Opelika. Sometimes when the shoe department got busy, the clerks were not able to keep up with who got what, and Jeffrey’s first pair of new shoes that actually fit had been part of his most brazen shoplifting stunt ever: he had walked out of the shoe department bold as God, a pair of gleaming new fifteen-dollar black loafers hugging his feet, the soles so new he nearly slipped on the polished marble floor. His heart had been beating like a snare drum the whole time, but showing up at school the next day looking and feeling like a million bucks had made it all worthwhile.

  In Hoss’s shoes, Jeffrey felt like he was wearing two blocks of cement. Loose blocks, since they were a size and a half too big. There was already a blister working on his heel, and the arch of his foot felt like it had a piece of grit stuck in it, probably something from a fish.

  Reggie drove the car through town just as slowly as before, managing an irritating crawl as they got stuck behind a tractor for what seemed like a hundred miles. He kept his scanner turned down low as he listened to country music on the radio, one hand on the wheel, one hand on the center console, lightly tapping along with Hank Williams.

  Jeffrey chanced a look at the other man as they headed up Herd’s Gap toward Jessie’s mother’s house. Reggie Ray was of average height, but he was a little on the scrawny side. He could not have been more than twenty-five or -six, but his dirty brown hair was already receding at the temples. A spot in the back looked a little fluffier than it should have been, and Jeffrey guessed he was combing over to hide a thinning area. Reggie would probably be bald by the time he reached his mid-thirties.

  Jeffrey ran his hand through his own hair, thinking the only good thing his father had ever given him was a full head of hair. Even at close to sixty, Jimmy Tolliver still had the same thick, wavy hair he’d sported in high school. He still kept it in the same style that was popular at the time: a slicked-back variation of a pompadour. In his prison stripes, he looked like an extra from an Elvis movie.

  Reggie said, “What’s so funny?”

  Jeffrey realized he had been smiling at the memory of his old man, but he was not about to share that with Reggie, especially considering the mark Jimmy had left on the Ray family.

  He said, “Nothing.”

  “Those boots smell like shit,” Reggie said, rolling down the window. Hot air sucked into the cab like a furnace. “What happened to your shoes?”

  “I left them with Sara,” he said, offering no further explanation.

  “She seems like a real nice woman.”

  “Yeah,” Jeffrey said. Then, to beat him to the punch, he added, “Don’t know what the hell she’s doing with me.”

  “Amen,” Reggie agreed. He tilted his hat back as they crested a hill. In the distance, Jeffrey could see people standing out on the golf course at the Sylacauga Country Club. Jeffrey had caddied a few times for some of the players, but he had quickly grown irritated by the condescending way the rich men treated him. Besides that, he had never understood the lure of golf. If he was going to spend a few hours outside, Jeffrey would rather be running and using his muscles for something other than chasing a little white ball around in a tiny clown car.

  Reggie cleared his throat, and Jeffrey could tell it took something out of him to ask, “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why’s Robert wanna talk to you?”

  Jeffrey was honest but only because he knew Reggie would not believe the truth. “I don’t know.”

  “Right,” Reggie said, skeptical. “Why’d Hoss want me to drive you out instead of him?”

  That was a good question, one Jeffrey had not considered when Hoss had volunteered to help Sara back at the cave. That was more the type of scut work Hoss usually gave to his deputies. Hoss would normally be more likely to drive out to see Robert with Jeffrey than trek through the forest looking for Sara. Maybe he thought he would be able to distract her somehow. Jeffrey wished him luck, but he knew Hoss was bound to fail.

  “Slick?” Reggie prompted.

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Jeffrey told him, knowing even as he said it that Reggie would now call him Slick until the day he died. “Hoss went back to find Sara.”

  “She lost?”

  “No.” Jeffrey did not debate long on whether or not to tell Reggie what was going on. The deputy would find out soon enough. “She found something. We found something. There’s this cave near the quarry—”

  “The one with the boards over it,” Reggie said. He must have noticed Jeffrey’s surprised look, because he added, “Paula told me about it.”

  “How’d she find out?” Jeffrey asked, knowing he had never taken Reggie’s sister to the cave. It was an unwritten rule between him, Robert, and Possum that no girls were allowed. Except for that one time, he knew that they had all kept to it.

  Reggie shrugged, not giving an answer. “What’d you find?”

  “Bones,”
Jeffrey said, trying to gauge the other man’s reaction. “A skeleton.”

  “Well.” His jaw relaxed, and he glanced over at Jeffrey. “This ain’t your week, is it, Slick?” He gave a raspy chuckle that turned into a full-on laugh. “Oh, me,” he managed through laughter. He even slapped his thigh.

  “That’s real professional of you, Reggie,” Jeffrey said, relief washing over him as they turned onto Elton Drive. Jessie’s mother was out in the yard watering some flowering plants. Behind her was a two-story white house with large columns holding up a second-story balcony. Jasper Clemmons was probably retired by now, but he had worked in senior management at the local mill and his home reflected his position. The first time Jeffrey had seen the place, he had been reminded of something out of Gone With the Wind. Now he thought it looked more like a low-rent Tara. The place had been kept up, but to Jeffrey’s more seasoned eye, he understood that the house was trying too hard. Considering Jessie’s family, it was a perfect fit.

  Faith Clemmons had never liked Jeffrey. Despite popular opinion, Jeffrey had not dated every woman in town, and Faith seemed to take it personally that Jeffrey had passed on her daughter. There was no denying Jessie had been gorgeous—hell, even now she was still a beautiful woman—but there was something about her that was too desperate for Jeffrey’s liking. He did not like clingy women, and even as a teenager, he had recognized Jessie for what she was: a bottomless pit of need.

  At first, Jeffrey had been worried when Jessie set her sights on Robert, but now he knew that they were a perfect couple—if you could call two people who needed each other more than they loved each other a perfect couple. Robert liked rescuing people. He liked being the good guy and feeling like he was doing the right thing. Jessie, a constant damsel in distress, was the perfect excuse for him to get on his white horse and come to the rescue. Some men liked that kind of thing, but the thought of it made Jeffrey feel like he had a noose around his neck.

  “Hey, Faith.”

  “Jeffrey,” she said, spraying water on the plant bed between them. “Robert’s inside.”