'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.'
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?'
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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.'
'Thanks,' he answered, but she had already turned her back to him.
Reggie gave a tight grin, murmuring, 'Another one of your fans.'
Jeffrey ignored him as they walked to the house. The blister on his heel was starting to throb, but Jeffrey would be damned if he limped around Reggie.
To take his mind off the pain, Jeffrey thought about Sara back at the cave. Hoss had probably shown up by now. What was he telling her? What story was he weaving to try to protect Jeffrey? Sara would get sick of this, he knew. She wasn't the type of woman who put up with being lied to, and last night's business had nearly chased her away forever. Soon, she would probably start to realize that there was some truth to what everyone was saying. The part that hurt most was that it was Jeffrey's own damn fault. Bringing her here had been like swallowing a live grenade. Jeffrey was just waiting for it to explode.
Through the screen door, Jeffrey could see the long hallway that ran to the back of the house. The place had been built back when mansions were the real thing: something for the elite to own and not just big empty boxes that echoed when you walked into them. Jeffrey had only been to Jessie's house a handful of times, but he remembered there was a formal parlor as well as a sitting room, on either side of the front hall, with a dining room, kitchen, and huge family room at the back. He raised his hand to knock on the door just as Jessie came out of the kitchen. She had a glass in her hand and he guessed from the color of the liquid and the clinking ice as she walked that she was drinking straight scotch.
Reggie noticed, too. He made a show of looking at his watch. 'Barely past noon.'
Jeffrey started to make an excuse for her, but stopped himself at the last minute.
'Hey, boys,' Jessie said. She was a good drunk in that she never slurred her words or turned sloppy. As a matter of fact, drinking did nothing but sharpen her edges. Underneath Jessie's flawless skin and perfect figure was a bitter woman who saw only the bad in things. Alcohol brought the acid to the surface.
Jeffrey asked, 'Is Robert here?'
'Not like we could go home,' Jessie said, pushing open the door. She stepped to the side but still blocked the doorway enough so that Jeffrey had to brush past her to get into the house. Reggie was denied the same treatment. She cut him off at the door, saying, 'Y'all can wait in the parlor. I'll go get Robert.'
Jeffrey watched her go. She was teetering on heels so high that it did not seem possible she could walk in them. How she managed to accomplish the balancing act three sheets to the wind was beyond the laws of science.
Reggie cleared his throat. He had his arms crossed over his chest like a disapproving schoolmaster. Of course he had taken Jeffrey's appraisal of Jessie the wrong way. 'She's your best friend's wife.'
Jeffrey ignored him as he walked into the front parlor. Like the rest of the house, nothing had changed much here. Two long couches covered in burgundy-and-white-striped silk faced each other, a spindly coffee table between them. Wingback chairs framed a large picture window at the front of the room, facing a massive fireplace you could roast a small man in. All of the furniture looked delicate enough to fall over with a sneeze, but Jeffrey knew better. He sank into one of the couches to wait for Robert while Reggie stood at the door with the same snide look on his face.
Jeffrey stared at the white carpet, which looked like it had been vacuumed to within an inch of its life. He could see his footprints making a pattern toward the couch, and wondered if the odor in the air was from the dead fish on Hoss's boots or the bowl of potpourri on the coffee table. He thought again of Sara and what she was doing now. He wanted to be with her, to try to control what she was thinking, to make her believe he wasn't a monster. If only it was within his power, he would snap his fingers and they would magically be somewhere, anywhere, other than here.
Reggie asked, 'You got a thing with the mother, too?'
'What?' Jeffrey realized his gaze had ventured out the window to where Faith Clemmons was watering her azaleas. 'Jesus Christ, Reggie. Lay off it, okay?'
He crossed his arms over his chest. 'Or what?'
Footsteps slowly padded down the stairs, and Jeffrey felt all the steam go out of him as Robert entered the room. He had looked bad this morning, but now he looked as if he had been hit by a truck. His shoulders were stooped and he kept one hand to his side, much the same way he had the night before.
Jeffrey stood, not knowing what to say. He settled on 'Why don't you sit down?'
'I'm okay,' Robert said. 'Reggie, can you give us a minute?'
'Sure,' Reggie answered, his tone slightly guarded. Still, he tipped his hat before leaving the room.
Robert waited until the
screen door had shut before he spoke. 'You found her body in the cave.'
Jeffrey was stunned by Robert's certainty. He had not asked a question; rather, he had made a statement. Her body had been found.
'Hoss called me,' Robert said, carefully sinking into one of the wingback chairs. 'He thinks it might be some bum or something – fell and hit his head. You know it's Julia Kendall.'
The name brought a heaviness to the room. Jeffrey felt sweat break out on his brow despite the air conditioning. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out the necklace with the heart-shaped charm. 'I found this by the bench seat.'
Robert reached out for the necklace and Jeffrey gave it to him. Using the nail on his thumb, Robert pried the locket open and looked at the photographs. 'Jesus. Julia.'
Jeffrey looked out the window to where Faith had turned off the hose and was talking to Reggie. They were probably having a good time comparing notes on what an asshole Jeffrey was. Reggie might even be telling her about Julia. News would be around town before Jeffrey even had a chance to tell Sara. She would get the story from somebody else, somebody who would get it all wrong. He slumped back into the couch, thinking he could not take it if she looked at him again the same way she had last night.
Robert asked, 'What did you tell Sara?'
'Nothing,' Jeffrey said, feeling remorse wash over him. That would have been the time to tell her, in the cave. He wasn't sure if she had seen him find the necklace and put it into his pocket. He should have said something right then and there instead of acting like he was guilty of something.
Jeffrey said, 'I hid the necklace from her.'
'Why?'
'Because I've got enough people in town telling her I'm some kind of animal without proving it.'
'What does this prove?' Robert asked, handing the necklace back to Jeffrey. No one wanted to keep the damn thing, and Jeffrey was irritated that it kept coming back to him.
Jeffrey said, 'It's going to stir up all that shit all over again. Jesus, I hate this fucking place.'
Robert stared at his hands. 'Everyone said she just ran away.'
A Grant County Collection: Indelible, Faithless and Skin Privilege Page 19