by Jen Blood
“I wanted to apologize for breaking your trust. I never intended to tell your mother, but—”
Bear held up his hand, signaling Jack to stop. “Forget it,” he said, a new tension settling in.
“I gave you my word—”
“And I said forget it,” Bear said tightly.
“But—”
Bear slowed abruptly, and pulled onto the muddy shoulder of Route 97. A pickup roared past, blasting its horn. Bear raised his hand with middle finger extended as the truck rolled by, almost as a matter of course.
“Look,” he said, when the truck was stopped. He turned to face Jack. Behind them in the crew cab, Cody whined. The wind rocked the truck back and forth, but Bear seemed oblivious. “I put my mom through hell with this whole thing, and it’s not the first time—it’s not like she ever had it easy with me. I hired you because I thought you could help, but it turns out I got myself in too deep for that. If you telling anything to my mom made her feel a little bit better while I was in jail, I’m fine with that. She needs to lean on somebody sometimes, and it seems like she’s decided that’s you.” He hesitated. “Like I said, we’ll break you if you hurt her. But right now, you talking to her about my lame-ass idea to hire you is the least of my worries.”
“Okay,” Jack said, honestly surprised. “It won’t happen again, though. I mean, if you ever need to talk to someone about anything at all, I hope you know I’m around.” He smiled, lightening slightly. “I won’t work for you again, because I don’t want to be in a position where I need to lie to your mother. But if you need something, I’m here.”
Bear nodded briefly, and pulled the truck back onto the road. “Noted.”
And that was that.
Five minutes later, they pulled up at Hank’s place. The house was surprisingly neat, an old white colonial that was miniscule compared to the Davis and Monroe homes. The yard was freshly mowed, a flower garden in bloom out front and a vegetable garden at the side.
Hank met them out front. Cody was surprisingly wary when they got there, not nearly like the dogs in the YouTube videos Bear mentioned. The massive dog tugged backward on the leash when Bear tried to get him into the house, until Bear finally crouched down beside the animal and murmured something that Jack couldn’t make out.
“Shouldn’t he be more excited than this?” Jack asked.
“It happens this way sometimes,” Bear said with a shrug. Cody leaned on him with a sigh, and the boy laughed. “Come on, big guy. You can do this.”
“He’s always been a little nervous,” Hank said when they finally made it inside. He led them to a kitchen that was as neatly appointed as the yard. Jack surveyed the shelves, where spices and bulk goods were alphabetized and perfectly aligned.
“Were you military?” he asked.
Hank smiled affably. “Guilty as charged. Army, till some shrapnel in my hip took me out of commission in ’73. I would’ve stayed longer if not for that.”
“You’ve recovered well,” Jack noted. “I barely see a limp.”
“Push through, stop dwelling on it. That’s all it is really.”
Jack nodded, though he didn’t have anything more to add. Bear was still working with Cody, who seemed just fine as long as the boy was with him. Who knew what would happen once they left.
“Why don’t you sit,” Hank said. “Have some coffee. Let Cody get comfortable before you take off.”
“Sure,” Bear said immediately. He straightened from where he’d been crouched next to the dog. “That will be good. He may have some trouble adjusting at first. I hope you weren’t planning on getting a full night’s sleep tonight.”
“Nah,” Hank said. “I don’t sleep so well anyway. He’ll be all right. Isn’t that right, Cody?” he asked the dog.
Cody bumped up against him, his tail waving slowly as he mellowed again. Hank scratched the dog’s ears, and it wasn’t long before the Newfoundland abandoned Bear in favor of his new human. Jack remained standing while all of this took place, idly reviewing the shelves while Hank put on coffee.
“Nancy must have driven you crazy,” he said, after a few seconds of silence.
Hank turned to look at him. “Why’s that?”
Bear laughed. “You want a list?”
Hank joined in the laughter, though to Jack the man appeared distinctly uncomfortable at the subject change.
“I meant the way you’re committed to order. It’s pretty clear from the way you keep your home.”
Hank shrugged, but something dark passed in his eyes. Jack felt a prick of uneasiness. “We had our moments. Everyone did, where Nancy was concerned.”
“Sure,” Jack agreed.
He took a chair next to Bear, and a moment later Hank set a steaming cup of coffee in front of each of them. For himself, however, he selected tea.
“You’re not having any?” Jack asked.
“Can’t handle the caffeine. Tea’s good for me. I just keep the coffee around for guests.”
“We could have had tea, as well,” Jack said. “You didn’t need to make a whole pot for just the two of us.”
Hank waved off the protests. “That’s all right. I like the smell. It’s not a problem.”
“Well, thank you,” Jack said. He waited for Bear to acknowledge either of them, but the teenager was too preoccupied with the dog.
Jack started to raise his mug, but his cell phone rang before it got halfway to his mouth. He checked the display, and frowned.
“I’m sorry—I should take this.”
Despite the drizzle and darkening skies, Jack chose to take the call outside, where he wouldn’t be overheard. It was a warm night, humid enough that he could taste the ocean on the air. Illuminated by a motion-sensitive light that flooded the grounds, he followed a stone path to a series of raised-bed gardens, and pressed the button to accept the incoming call.
“What’s up, Mike?”
“Hey. I wasn’t sure I would get you. I was all set to leave a message.”
“No need. I’m here—what’s going on?”
“I was just looking at the list of people who bought those lobster collars, like the one you saw at Nancy’s.”
“What about it?” He looked around the gardens, marveling at the greenery. A coffee can of cigarette butts was the only hint that Hank Williams might be mortal. “I thought we already went through everything.”
“Not for the Waterville store,” Mike said.
Jack continued walking the grounds, then paused at a garage at the head of Hank’s driveway. He peered through immaculate windows.
“Remember, there was a problem with the computer,” Mike was saying. “I was bored, so I pushed Becky—she’s the manager there—and she finally got it for me. One of the names that came up just struck me as a little off, so I talked to the girl who was working the day he bought the collar, and—”
“Who?” Jack interrupted again. Inside the garage were parked two vehicles: Hank’s red pickup, and an ancient station wagon. From where he was standing, Jack could tell that the rear taillight was broken out. And he knew, before Mike had even gotten the name out, exactly who it was.
“Hank Williams. Not the—”
“I know who it is,” Jack said. He lowered his voice. “I need you to call Sheriff Finnegan. You know him?”
“Sure.”
“Great. Call him. Tell him to get a unit to Hank’s house. Now.”
He hung up before Mike could ask any further questions. Tensed, he remained where he was for a second, assessing his next step. Behind him, a branch snapped. He strained his ears for some sound from the kitchen, but he heard nothing beyond Cody’s persistent barking.
He whirled, his body tensed, and raised his arm in time to block the blow that he was sure was about to land.
As predicted, Hank was there. He hardly looked ready to strike, however, his hands raised to show that he came in peace. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Bear’s in getting Cody settled. I was just checking to make sure nothing was
wrong.”
“No,” Jack said, his heart hammering. He slipped the phone into his back pocket. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted some fresh air.”
Hank glanced toward the garage. He was tensed, clearly aware that Jack knew something.
“The car in there,” Jack began, nodding to the window. “The station wagon...”
“It’s Nancy’s,” Hank confirmed. “I bought it off Fred, just before he and Albie left town.”
“When was that?” Jack pressed.
Hank considered. “Uh... The morning after the fire, I think. Fred said he just wanted to get out of here.”
“Not before the fire?” Jack said, recalling Jamie’s story of the car with the broken taillight that had run her off the road that night.
“No,” Hank said. He eyed Jack carefully. “Not before the fire. The next day.”
Jack nodded. He tried to relax, thinking things through. “You and Nancy knew each other a long time,” he finally said.
“A while,” Hank confirmed. He studied Jack for a long moment before he sighed. He reached into his front pocket, holding up his other hand when Jack flinched. “Sorry, just getting a cigarette.”
He retrieved the cigarette and offered one to Jack, who shook his head. The older man lit up, inhaled deeply, and looked at Jack with his head tilted, blue eyes keen.
“You figured it out, I guess. That’s what that phone call was?” he asked, taking Jack completely by surprise.
“You killed Nancy,” Jack said.
Pain registered in Hank’s eyes at the words, but he didn’t look away. “I did. Didn’t mean to, but...”
“You bludgeoned her with a fireplace poker. How is that ‘didn’t mean to’?” Jack asked.
“Fair enough,” Hank said, with an amiable nod. “I guess... I meant to. Didn’t plan on it.”
“You went over to get Cody that night,” Jack guessed. “That’s where the collar came from?”
“Yup. We’d been talking about me taking him forever—the damn fool was starving him. Slowly killing him, and here I was right next door ready to give him everything he needed. But since the cops were coming in the next day I figured, ‘This is it. Now or never.’ So, I go over there. She’s all wound up because Jamie’s kid had been there. And she’s talking all over again, about how the place is hers. The animals are hers. Nobody has a right to them. Nobody will take care of them the way she will.”
“And she refused to give you Cody. Again.”
“Yeah. Again.” He shook his head, and drew deeply on his cigarette once more. “I just... I don’t know. I lost it. God only knew what she would have done that next day, but no way would she go down without a fight. The animals...the cops... She would have taken everybody out, I think.”
“We’ll never know that for sure,” Jack said. “In all likelihood, she wouldn’t have survived that night to begin with.”
Hank looked at him with widened eyes. “Excuse me?”
“She was having a heart attack when you confronted her. The medical examiner thinks it probably would have killed her.”
The older man’s mouth twitched. His eyebrows went up. And then, catching Jack completely off guard, he began to laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’m going to prison for that old bitch...and she would have died anyway?” He laughed harder. “Oh, that’s rich.”
Jack was still trying to figure out how to broach the subject that he would actually need to call the police about all this when a sound like the clap of thunder echoed through the stillness. Jack hit the deck immediately, knowing the sound all too well. Hank, unfortunately, didn’t fare as well.
When Jack looked up, the older man was on the ground.
“Get up,” a familiar voice said behind him. “Slowly.”
Jack twisted to look back over his shoulder. Fred stood with a gun trained on him, his eyes disturbingly calm. Hands raised, Jack got to his feet. He looked down at Hank. The man was still alive, a bloody hand clutched to his chest.
#
The next few minutes happened in a blur. Jack stood with the gun trained on him, Hank bleeding on the ground. Fred called for Albie, who appeared with a mad fire in his eyes.
“You got Bear in the truck?” Fred asked.
Albie remained focused on Hank. The man wasn’t moving, but Jack could still see the pained rise and fall of his chest.
“Yeah. He didn’t wake up,” Albie said.
“Good,” Fred said. “Get Hank in there too. I’ll take Mr Juarez here. I want you to drive Bear’s truck to the quarry.”
Albie looked at him uncertainly. “But—”
“They hurt Mom,” Fred said simply. “You know what she would say. She deserves justice, the same as all those animals she saved did. We’re not killing them. If God wants to save them, he will. Same as with the others.”
“Those others were bad people, though,” Albie argued. “They hurt animals—”
“Hank killed our mother,” Fred said. His voice rose to just south of a shout. “And then he laughed about it, I heard him. That’s not bad?”
Albie nodded. “No. That is bad.”
“So, it’s the same game,” Fred said. He was calm again—eerily so.
“The Redemption Game,” Albie said softly. “God saves who’s worthy. They just need to be sorry. They just need to mean it.”
“Get him in the truck,” Fred said. “I’ll follow you out to the quarry.”
Jack stood by, gun pressed to the back of his skull, and watched as Albie slowly, painfully, dragged Hank across the yard.
“I’m not going anywhere with—” Jack began. He fell silent at a crushing blow to the back of his skull. He went to his knees, the night swimming around him.
For the second time in a week, his world went black.
Chapter 29
WHEN JACK AWOKE, he was behind the steering wheel of Bear’s truck, his hands bound in front of him. His head throbbed, his mouth filled with foul-tasting cotton. Bile burned in his throat. When the world came back into focus, he looked to his right to find Bear slumped in the passenger’s seat.
“You’ll live if you’re worthy,” Fred said to him. He stood at the open driver’s side door, watching Jack warily. “You made it through the fire... That may mean something.”
“That was you, then?” Jack asked. “At your mother’s house. You attacked me and set that fire?”
“No one was ever supposed to get in there. I was supposed to get my mother and Albie out, and then do what needed to be done to the house. But then Hank...” The man swallowed convulsively. “It’s done, it doesn’t matter. I don’t think he stands much chance, but it’s in God’s hands now.”
Jack twisted to look behind him. By the truck’s interior light, he could just make out Hank’s still form in the crew cab.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked. The words came out hard, and sounded like they’d been spoken by another man entirely.
“Just pray. We’ll see how you fare,” the man said. He slammed the door, and stepped away from the vehicle.
Awareness slowly crept in. They were in the woods, headlights illuminating a vast open space ahead. Rain spattered the windshield. Jack heard the roar of an engine behind them.
He looked back over his shoulder into the glare of high beams. His heart was pounding in time with his head now, panic pushing him to the brink. The car behind revved its engine. Jack looked to his left, but Fred was no longer standing there.
The car behind revved again, and the pieces clicked into place. I’ll follow you out to the quarry.
Jack slammed his foot down on the brake.
Nothing happened.
Behind them, he heard Fred’s car come to life. It sped toward them. He knew it was coming, but the impact still threw him into the steering wheel.
Bear’s truck lurched toward the quarry’s edge.
#
Jack braced himself for the fall that he knew was coming, but the force when they hit the water still rocked him so hard that
he hit the windshield. Beside him, Bear hit the dash even harder, his skull cracking with a sound that made Jack’s stomach roll.
He managed to get free of the ropes Fred had tied around his wrists with a silent prayer of thanks, and turned immediately to Bear. If the boy had been close to regaining consciousness before, he was now once again fully out. Behind him in the crew cab, however, Hank groaned in pain.
He couldn’t get all three of them out, Jack realized. There was no way. The cab was taking on water fast, already sinking below the surface. His head felt like it would explode, but it didn’t matter.
He had to do this.
He pushed past the pain, and tried the truck door. With the weight of the water against it, it wouldn’t budge. The power windows were useless, the engine quite literally flooded.
Jack maneuvered himself inside the limited space until his feet were jammed against the windshield, his back pressed to the seat for leverage.
He kicked out.
Kicked again.
And again.
Behind him in the crew cab, Hank’s breath was an ominous rattle that Jack had heard before. The men who made that sound hadn’t been long for this world.
He kicked again, fighting fatigue and a pain so great it seemed almost outside him now.
On the sixth kick, the windshield shattered. Water surged into the truck cab before Jack had a chance to prepare himself. He swallowed a lungful of water, but kept his head. He grabbed Bear around his middle, and tugged the boy free of the truck.
They weren’t far from the surface. Jack took seconds to take in air before he oriented himself, scanning the night for some sign of shore line. He spotted dry land a hundred yards to his right, wrapped one arm around Bear’s chest, and swam for shore.
Halfway there, Bear came to. He began to struggle, panic seizing him.
“Stop!” Jack ordered. “You’re all right. We’re almost to safety.”
“What happened?” Bear demanded. “What’s happening?”
Jack didn’t answer, but he was relieved when Bear insisted he was all right, and swam the last few yards to shore on his own.
