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Shattered Dreams

Page 8

by Frank Hayes


  “I know who you mean now but didn’t remember his name. Nice guy but doesn’t drink nothing but beer.”

  “That’s right. Never touches the hard stuff. Doesn’t smoke neither. No vices but a real good guy.”

  “You sure that’s Everett you are talking about? I kind of got the idea that Everett liked to party, maybe smoke a little weed,” Virgil said. Lou raised his eyebrows at Virgil’s comment.

  “Sheriff, I don’t know where you are getting your information, but that’s about as far away from the Everett I know as you can get. Hell, he don’t even cuss. Doesn’t even like to throw inside. Afraid he’s gonna hit somebody and hurt them. Drove the coach crazy but he’s got a mean fastball. He’s our best pitcher. He don’t actually work for the company. He’s an accountant. I think he and his partner have been contracted by the company for the last couple of years. Keep forgetting he’s not just a regular employee. Come to think of it, he said last year that it might be his last year on the team unless him and his partner got a new contract for their work.”

  “Lou, we got to go. Got to be back to work in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, Jesse. Sorry, Sheriff. We got to eat these sandwiches you bought us.” Each started slowly backing up. Virgil gave a wave then watched as they drove out of the lot. He continued watching them as they drove toward the plant, then disappeared around the side of the building. Virgil could hear dull, thunderous noises coming from where they were headed. He didn’t know much about rock crushing but it sounded to him like a noisy job. Lunch break for some workers was apparently over.

  He stood for a couple of seconds looking at the building at the end of the path bordering the parking lot. The main office, as Jesse called it. It had been his intention to go in, ask to speak to a Human Resources person about Everett, but now he was having second thoughts. Knowing what he had just found out about Everett had him in a quandary. Lou’s words had painted a different picture than what he had started to put together in his head. The contradictions were nagging at him.

  There was one Everett who decorated his home for Christmas, which turned out supposedly to be a meth lab, containing the body of a young Indian charred beyond recognition; and there was the Everett who didn’t want to throw an inside pitch for fear of hurting a batter and didn’t drink much or smoke. Virgil looked once more at the building at the edge of the path, then, remembering his own words to Mr. Jessup, decided he better try to keep Everett dead for a while so he could work out some of the contradictions he was wrestling with now.

  He turned and got in his cruiser, retracing his steps until he got to the main road, then made a right turn and went over the railroad tracks and headed back toward Cielo. He stopped when he reached the gas station, pulled in to fill up his tank. It was early afternoon. Despite the chill he was standing in full sun. It felt good. The air was clear, a blue sky filled his view overhead. A hint of a breeze tugged at his collar while he pumped the gas. The smell of the fuel lingered in the air while he ran the county credit card through for his gas. The smell of the gasoline usually never bothered him—sometimes he kind of actually liked it, but not today. It somehow spoiled the crisp, clear air and the sunlight. When he pulled out of the station for the second time that day he had intended to drive straight back to Hayward. The thought of stopping at Everett Jessup’s trailer hadn’t struck him until he saw the actual turnoff. The long road in looked the same. There hadn’t been any recent rain. Even though he was going slowly, he could see roiling dust clouds left in his wake. High sun was bouncing off the sandstone walls of the arroyo. Mica glistened like little diamonds as it caught the direct rays.

  At last the double-wide came into view. He could still see the yellow crime scene tape, some of it torn, fluttering in the light breeze. When he stepped out of the car the distinctive smell of burnt-out wreckage was still heavy in the air. He stepped under the tape to approach the trailer. When he reached the front door, which was still hanging crookedly to one side, he stopped. He wasn’t sure why he had decided to come. Nothing looked any different from his recollection of the last time he was here. On either side of the trailer at the back stood a couple of large green specimen bushes standing in stark contrast with the trailer and the red stone buttes that framed the back of the landscape. Virgil moved toward the right side of the trailer, realizing they completely obscured the back from view. He was moving along the side almost to the rear when he saw what he took to be the headlight of a vehicle. He moved forward to take a closer look. As he stepped around the rear corner, suddenly the daylight disappeared from view. The blue sky, greenery, red sandstone, and glistening sun reflecting mica, all of it was gone. Instead, sharp pain followed by an instant blackness swallowed Virgil whole. He felt disconnected from the world as he fell into the bottomless darkness that absorbed him.

  Chapter 16

  “Hey, Rosie, what’s going on?” Dif had just stepped into the office.

  “Actually, it’s been pretty quiet. Guess the population realizes that Christmas is around the corner. Instead of law breaking, they are out Christmas shopping.”

  “Yep. That’s why I’m here early. Lot quieter here than at home. Edna gets a little crazy at Christmas.”

  “If she wasn’t a little crazy she would probably have never married you.” Dif didn’t react to the barb. “I’m only teasing, Dif.”

  “I know, but seriously, she becomes almost obsessed, whether it’s buying presents, decorating or baking. She keeps a list on the night table. Wakes up in the middle of the night to add to it. I don’t see you get crazy like that.”

  “Well, we all have something that sets us off. In Edna’s case, maybe something from long ago. Didn’t you tell me once that her mother died when Edna was young?”

  “Yep, she was only five or six. Her sister and brother were younger.”

  “That must have been tough. What happened?”

  “Guess they were tenant farming. Her dad was also working a couple of extra jobs. They were hard at it. You know that old saw when you’re young . . . working can to can. Can’t see in the morning till you can’t see at night. Evidently, her mother got on the tractor pulling the manure spreader one morning because Edna’s father had worked real late the night before. Rained hard all night till morning. Guess the tractor went over on her mom, on her way out to the field to spread some manure. Edna’s father got up when the kids were running around the house. When he found out that she had let him sleep, he figured she had gone out to do one of his chores. He gave the kids breakfast then went looking for her. She was dead when he found her underneath the tractor. Edna said nothing was ever the same after that.”

  “I can believe that,” Rosie said. “Christmas maybe got forgotten for a long time. Kids are resilient but hard times leave their mark.”

  Dif sat down heavily in a chair.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he said. Just then the phone rang. Dif continued to sit slouched in the chair while Rosie spoke on the phone. When she hung up, she sat quietly for a moment or two. Dif noted the change of expression. “What is it, Rosie?”

  “That was the oddest call. Whoever it was said someone should go down to Everett Jessup’s trailer. Before I could ask why, they hung up.”

  “Isn’t that the trailer that got burnt up down there in Cielo? Where they found that body?”

  “Yes, but why should someone go down there now? Virgil’s in that area, I’ll give him a call. He can check it out.” For the next few minutes Rosie tried connecting with Virgil. “No response,” she said after her fourth attempt.

  “Try his cell,” Dif said. “He obviously isn’t in his vehicle.”

  Rosie tried Virgil’s cell. After a couple of tries, she called Cesar at the ranch. Following a brief conversation she hung up the phone.

  “I don’t like this, not one little bit. Virgil’s not answering, Cesar says he hasn’t spoken to him since he left this morning. Said maybe we should call Mr. Jessup. I’m going to call Jimmy instead.”

  “What are you
thinking?” Dif asked.

  “I’m thinking somebody better get down to that burnt-out trailer. But I don’t want to drop it in the lap of an old man.”

  Within twenty minutes Jimmy and Dif were in Jimmy’s patrol car tearing up the road on their way down to Cielo.

  “Ain’t been down in this part of the county in years. Just used to be mesquite and desert. Sam, Virgil’s dad, used to say it was like the dark side of the moon. No one would live here except the coyotes and the sidewinders. I think he would be more than a little surprised if he could see it now.” Dif made the comment as the distant red buttes came into view.

  “Don’t know what it was like back then. Virgil says they got kind of a mini-boom going on down here now. This country sure looks a lot different from most of the rest of the county. Seems like it takes forever to get down here.”

  “Guess that’s why Virgil keeps telling the town council we need more manpower, more coverage. Hell, Hayward County is as big as some countries.” Dif raised his hand, pointing to a mailbox on the side of the road. “I think that’s the turnoff.” Jimmy barely slowed. Road dust rose up while rocks were scattered to the sides of the dirt cutoff. Dif grabbed the sidebar. “Holy shit, Jimmy, slow down or we’re going to become part of the landscape.”

  “We got to find Virgil.”

  “I get it. Just don’t want to be picking cactus thorns out of my ass while we are looking for him.” When they reached the end of the canyon they saw the burnt-out hulk of the trailer. Alongside was Virgil’s car. Jimmy skidded to a stop. Dif had his door opened before the engine quieted. Each had reached for his gun.

  “Wow, they weren’t making it up. What a mess. This thing’s not much more than a shell now.”

  “No sign of anyone here,” Jimmy said.

  “Well, he must be within earshot. His vehicle is here, so he’s on foot. Maybe he went up one of those draws for some reason and that’s why he is not answering his cell.” Dif pointed toward the wall of rimrock, where there were crevasses and breaks in the red rock. As they stepped out of the cruiser, each started calling Virgil’s name. Only the echo of their own voices came back to them. Then Jimmy took his sidearm, raising it above his head.

  “Cover your ears, Dif.” Jimmy shot off two rounds, which echoed and rolled around the canyon like thunder.

  “Well, if I wasn’t already half deaf, I’m a goner now for sure.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll still hear Edna whispering sweetly in your ear.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good enough reason to fire off another couple of rounds.” Jimmy fired again.

  “Nothing,” Jimmy said after they stood for a minute in silence. “Nothing.”

  “You don’t think he could be in the trailer?”

  “Why would he go in there? Nothing but charred wreckage. Besides, he certainly would have heard us. Let’s just check it out.” The two of them walked the fifty or so feet to the trailer.

  “I can still smell the fire. What a mess,” Dif repeated as they approached. “Must have been like an oven in there.”

  “Yeah, Sheriff said the body was close to being cremated.” They both walked to the door and looked in.

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “It doesn’t make sense. We were told to come here. His car is here. He’s sure not in the trailer, and if he’s up one of them draws, he ain’t answering.” Dif stood back as he made the comment. “Look.” He pointed to the ground. “There’s a boot mark.”

  “There’s another,” Jimmy said. “Another.” He followed the scuff marks to the end of the trailer.

  “Around back,” Dif said. Jimmy started running. Before Dif got to the rear of the trailer, he heard Jimmy.

  “He’s here. He’s here.”

  • • •

  Two hours later, Virgil was in a hospital bed in Hayward Memorial, looking up at a circle of faces. They parted when the doctor came to the side of his bed. “Virgil, look at me. Okay, now follow my finger.” He moved his finger from side to side, then up and down. “How do you feel?”

  “Headache,” Virgil answered.

  “Not surprised. You took some hit. We put six stitches in your scalp, but more than that you have a concussion. The fact that you were unconscious for so long confirms it, even without a scan.”

  “When can I leave? I’ve got things to do.”

  “You are not going anywhere. Look, in the past year you have been operated on for a brain aneurysm, then there was that incident out at the Thompson ranch that you wouldn’t let me check you out for, which probably also was a concussion. Now this. Virgil, you ought to try avoiding taking these hits to your head. Unless you want to fill that vacancy for village idiot.

  “I’m serious. We’ve found out a lot about brain injuries in the last few years. I don’t have to remind you that when we were in school you took some pretty good hits on the football field.”

  “You did too, Sam. You were blocking for me.”

  “I know. You don’t have to remind me. The thing is, I don’t want either of us to spend our declining years sitting on the front porch trying to remember our first name.”

  “Point taken,” Virgil replied. “I’ll settle in here until you tell me I’m fit to be in polite society.”

  Sam smiled at Virgil’s remark.

  “Trouble is, Virgil. You gotta avoid the not-so-polite society.”

  “Kind of tough to do in this job, Sam.”

  Sam didn’t respond but Dif spoke up.

  “Virgil, do you have any idea which one of those not so nice polite people nailed you?”

  “Can’t say for sure Dif, but I have an idea it just might be a guy who doesn’t like to throw inside fast balls for fear of hurting the batter.”

  Chapter 17

  Virgil had just finished the last of his supper. It wasn’t the worst food he had ever eaten, but he would much rather have been sitting over at Margie’s contemplating the homemade pie that would come with his coffee. He was feeling better and would have liked to have gotten out of bed to walk around but he had promised to stay in bed until an aide was available. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Sam was right. The pounding headache had subsided but the woozy feeling was still there. He felt it when he sat up in the bed to eat his meal. Now he suddenly felt tired so he laid back and closed his eyes. The next time he opened them the twilight had softened all the sharp edges and Micah Hayward was sitting by his bed.

  “Hey, Virgil.” Virgil started to sit up. Micah put his hand out. “No, relax.”

  “Mike, it’s been a while. How are you doing?”

  “I think a lot better than you. From what I’m hearing, you have to learn to duck more often.”

  “If they would give me some warning I would. I remember you hitting the ground pretty hard not too many years back.”

  “Yeah, but I always tried to land on my feet and I never went near the bulls. Didn’t have that much of a death wish. I’m mighty happy to see those young guys wearing those metal baskets on their heads these days in those events. What are you smiling about, Virgil?”

  “I was just thinking maybe I ought to start wearing one of those.”

  “If you had, Virginia wouldn’t have been calling me to get in here and check on you.”

  “I was wondering how this visit came about.”

  “Welcome to fatherhood, Virgil. The first twenty years you were off the hook, now it’s your turn to step up to the plate. Having a daughter worried about you and planning a Christmas blowout is just the beginning.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, why did she send you as a substitute?”

  “She’s down in Redbud. It’s probably her last day there before she goes back to school. We are closed next week because of Christmas, and after the first of the year we do inventory. So there is not that much for her to do then, and I’m pretty sure she’d rather spend the time getting ready to go back to school. I’m sure she will be here tomorrow. I had to be in town today to go over something with our new
accountants, so when I heard about you, I told her to stay down there and that I would get in here to make sure you’re in one piece.”

  “Well as you can see”—Virgil held up his arms—“still got all the working parts.”

  “Glad to hear it. By the way, I’m looking forward to that party next week, should be interesting. Too bad Mom’s not here to see it.”

  “Well, if Audrey was there, it would be a lot more than interesting. Probably be more like the Fourth of July than Christmas.” Micah Hayward stood to leave. “Did you get together with your accountants?”

  “Yes. They weren’t my first choice but we don’t always get what we want.”

  “Who would that have been, Micah?”

  “Well, last year when we were getting ready to make a change, I met with a nice guy who had been highly recommended, Michael Stark. He and his partner were looking for a new client. Evidently, there had been a significant reason for him to leave the previous client. He was extremely ethical, wouldn’t discuss it, which I admired, and it really swayed me to him and his partner. We were all set to sign a contract. The very next week they found him at the bottom of a canyon off High Ridge Road. He died after lingering in a coma for a couple of weeks. So then I had to go back to square one and here I am.”

  “Well, thanks for coming by even if it is only to relieve my daughter’s anxiety.”

  “Virgil, you know it’s not just that. Rusty knew it too. If I’m going to share fatherhood with anybody, there’s no one I’d rather share it with than you. You’re the best brother-in-law I never had.”

  “Thank you for that, Micah. I just wish Audrey and I could have gotten on the same plane before she died. But like you said before, we don’t get everything we want in this life. We all have to live with that reality.”

  Micah gave a half wave and turned toward the doorway of Virgil’s room.

 

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