by Meg Muldoon
The waitress was watching them again.
Philip looked around the diner with shifty eyes.
Then he bolted out of the front door.
Chapter 14
“He did it, sir. He admitted as much to me. Philip Clayton shot Clyde Driggs.”
Once again, Warren had that feeling of a frog being steadily boiled alive under the stare of Sheriff Sullivan Coe. Only this time, Warren had willingly jumped into the pot of boiling water himself.
The Sheriff leaned back in his chair and looked out the window of his office for a long while. The office was located in a nondescript beige building a few blocks away from Main Street, and Warren had walked there as soon as Philip left the diner.
Warren didn’t like being a snitch or a tattle-tale. It wasn’t in his nature. He would have much rather the truth come from Philip himself, but unless the rich kid had a change of heart, that wasn’t going to happen.
And Warren couldn’t stand the thought of Leroy sitting in jail all this time for something he didn’t do.
It wasn’t just about Mae, either, Warren realized. It was about right and wrong. About a good man getting a raw deal over a crime he didn’t commit.
Warren sat there in Sheriff Coe’s sparse office, his stomach turning as he waited for the man to speak.
“Why should I believe you?” Sheriff Coe finally said, flashing those hell-fire eyes at Warren. “You lied to us when we questioned you before. What’s changed?”
Warren gulped hard.
“Philip said he did it, sir” Warren said. “It was an accident, but he’s too chicken to come in and tell you.”
The Sheriff looked out the window again, saying nothing.
Warren cleared his throat.
“I understand your hesitation in believing me, Sheriff Coe. But Leroy didn’t do it. And he shouldn’t be blamed for—”
“Thanks for coming in, son. But I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake.”
Warren furrowed his brow.
“A mistake? What do you mean, a mistake?”
Sheriff Coe stood up.
“Philip Clayton couldn’t have done it. He was asleep at home the morning it happened. The way any young man his age should be.”
Warren stood up too, feeling confused.
“Excuse me, Sheriff, but how do you know that—”
“Basil Clayton had Mrs. Coe and myself over for breakfast that morning, that’s how,” he said. “And Philip was in his room fast asleep. I’d vouch for it myself. He’s a good boy. A star athlete. And he couldn’t be capable of the thing you’re suggesting.”
Warren peered at the Sheriff, struggling for words that he couldn’t find.
It was obvious that Sheriff Coe was lying. He didn’t even try to make it a good lie. He just said the words out loud listlessly like it didn’t matter whether Warren believed him or not.
Clearing one guilty man of wrongdoing and sending an innocent one to jail for the rest of his life instead.
Warren felt a kind of fury at the injustice of it all climb up the back of his throat.
“You have it wrong, sir,” Warren said. “I talked to Philip and he said—”
But Sheriff Coe was already herding Warren out of his office.
“Doesn’t matter what Philip Clayton said. I’m the Sheriff and I know what I know.”
Sheriff Coe opened the door to his office, nearly pushing the teenager out.
“And if you’re smart, sonny boy, and don’t want any trouble, then you’ll know it, too,” he added.
Warren stood there, staring at Sullivan Coe in utter disbelief.
It was that day that Warren learned about the nature of money, power, and corruption in the world.
Chapter 15
Warren sat at the kitchen table later that week, picking at the meatloaf his mother had served for dinner.
Meatloaf was never his favorite meal. But it was even more to his disliking tonight.
Warren had been feeling down the past few days. Even with the news that Clyde Driggs’ condition was stabilizing, and that doctors were beginning to believe that he might pull through, Warren had seen another side to Christmas River that week – a side that he didn’t know had ever existed in his hometown.
Warren knew that life wasn’t fair. But he’d grown up believing that justice always won out in the end.
Now he realized that that wasn’t true. And it didn’t sit well with him.
It never would, either.
“Terrible thing, this Clyde Driggs business,” his father said, finishing off the last of the meatloaf on his plate. “Not only for Clyde, but for everyone involved.”
“Did you hear something new?” Etta Peters asked.
“Remember my friend Benny Hale at the mill? Well, he was in Leroy’s unit during the war. He’s friend with the Reed family and he said that the doctor had to pay the Reed house a visit three times this week. The father is ailing worse than ever now with Leroy being arrested.”
Warren swallowed the dry lump of meat in his mouth and didn’t say anything.
“Poor thing,” Warren’s mother said.
“Yes. And Benny said that with Leroy in jail, there’s nobody left to fend for the family except the oldest girl, Mary.”
“Mae,” Warren quietly said, correcting him.
“Oh, that’s right – Mae,” his father said. “Is she in your class, Warren?”
Mae hadn’t been in class since Leroy was arrested, and Warren knew that was the way it was going to be from now on.
She would have to go to work. And all those smarts she had, all those exams she got back from Mr. Stanley with big A’s at the top, none of it mattered anymore.
It didn’t seem right – that some families like Philip Clayton’s were well-off and had sons that did whatever they wanted to do without consequences. Meanwhile, because a smart girl like Mae came from a poor family, she’d now miss out on opportunities that the Philip Claytons of the world took for granted.
It didn’t seem right at all.
“Warren?”
He looked up. Both his mother and father were staring at him, as if they’d been trying to get his attention for some time.
He stood up.
“May I be excused?” he asked.
Warren’s mother peered at him.
“Yes,” she finally said.
Warren went for his jacket and then left the house, feeling the undigested meatloaf sitting like a lump of coal at the back of his throat.
Chapter 16
Warren could have driven anywhere, but he found himself following that same old road up to the lakes.
He didn’t have much money. What he’d saved over the years from working afterschool at the general store he’d used to buy his car. Maybe he could sell that, he thought. Maybe that would be enough to keep Mae in school, at least for a little while.
He thought of her brown eyes – the way they shone that day by the lake from beneath a pool of tears.
She was tough – he could see that in her.
But why did she have to be?
Why was life easy for some people and hard for others?
He drove along the bumpy dirt road, the evening sun gently dancing through the shimmering pine needles overhead. Summer would be here soon – usually his favorite time of year. But Warren felt no excitement for the coming season. All he felt was a dull sense of dread at the center of his chest.
He pulled up across the road from the general store, noticing that Pete’s car was there. Warren felt glad at the sight of it.
With his brother doing better, Pete’s mood had gotten back to its usual cheerful, gregarious state. Though Warren hadn’t been back at the general store all week – it had stayed closed – he’d run into Pete at the hospital the day before when he and his mother had gone to drop some flowers off. Pete seemed back to his old self, and Warren was glad for it.
When he saw him at the hospital, Warren considered telling Pete the truth about how Philip Clayton was the one respo
nsible for his brother’s injury. But it just didn’t feel like the right time to tell him, somehow.
Maybe now it was.
And maybe, if Pete believed him, he’d go to Sheriff Coe’s office with Warren again. Sheriff Coe could ignore a 17-year-old kid. But he wouldn’t be able to ignore the brother of the victim as easily.
Maybe there was a way that justice could still win out.
Warren got out of the car and walked up to the general store. It was a nice evening, and the air was warm and pleasant. Warren could sense whisperings of summer. And he knew that soon, the lake would be crowded with families fishing and canoeing, enjoying the long, lazy days of summer in Central Oregon.
He walked up the steps of the general store swiftly, bypassing the brown stains and trying not to look too hard at them. He opened the door. Like usual, it was unlocked.
He stepped inside, expecting to find Pete sitting there in the corner, smoking a cigarette and reading the paper like always.
But Pete wasn’t there.
Warren heard muffled voices coming from the back office. He was about to call out to Pete to let him know he was there, but that feeling – the same one he’d had the night out in the woods – gripped him. The one that told him to hold his tongue and stay quiet.
Warren took a few slow and quiet steps toward the office. The door was closed, but the walls were thin. He could make out that there were two voices.
“This wasn’t what I signed up for. You didn’t do the job and now—”
“Now what? You’re going to leave? Pretend that you’re not one half of this?”
“I’m not saying that. But you were supposed to take care of it, and you’ve only made it worse. What if he remembers something from that day? What if—”
“No. There’s no way. And anyway, it’s not over yet, babe. We’ll get another chance. It’ll be easier, this time, too.”
“No. It’ll look even more suspicious.”
Warren froze with fear.
“C’mon, now. Don’t tell me you’ve lost faith in me.”
“I haven’t, honey. But we spent so long planning this. Making sure we wouldn’t get caught. Framing Leroy, making it so he would have a good motive. And what was it all for? I’m going to be spending the rest of my days taking care of an invalid husband.”
Warren had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping loudly.
No… he couldn’t believe it.
Clyde’s new wife Ada and Pete had…
Warren had heard it with own two ears, but he still couldn’t believe it.
“That’s not going to happen. Like I just told you, I’m gonna take care of him. And then the store will be ours. We’ll sell it and we’ll bust out of this town, just like we always planned. I promise you, baby. I’ll make it happen.”
Warren suddenly had a sinking feeling in his gut.
He shouldn’t be hearing these things.
He shouldn’t have been there.
He needed to get out.
He started quickly retracing his steps, being as quiet as he could.
He almost made it, too.
But then the second to last floorboard let out a low creak.
Warren cursed silently.
It seemed that some people just weren’t meant for sneaking around.
Realizing the game was up, he bolted for the door. Running down the steps of the general store, running for his car.
He was in the middle of the dirt road when he heard Pete’s voice behind him.
“I thought that might be you, kid.”
Warren’s blood ran cold and he stopped in his tracks at the unmistakable sound of the rifle cocking.
Warren’s heart hammered hard in his chest. He turned around slowly.
He knew what kind of man Pete Driggs was now.
The kind that not only could shoot a man in the back.
But who could shoot his own brother in the back, as well.
“I don’t want any trouble, Pete,” Warren said, trying not to sound as scared as he felt.
“Neither did I. But that’s the hand we got dealt, kid.”
Warren gulped hard. The rifle barrel glistened in the dying sun.
“Why… why’d you do it?” he stammered, realizing that it was no use playing dumb now.
Over Pete’s shoulder, Warren could see Ada standing in the general store, lighting a cigarette. She was watching them through the window, seemingly enthralled by the spectacle taking place.
She might not have pulled the trigger, but she was just as bad as Pete.
“Simple, kid,” Pete said. “I wanted Ada and I wanted the general store. And I wasn’t going to wait around for either one.”
Warren hadn’t expected Pete to be so blunt.
Pete laughed at Warren’s expression.
“Didn’t see it coming, huh? Don’t feel bad. Nobody else did, either.”
“So you framed Leroy,” Warren said, realizing that the only thing now between him and that rifle was small talk. “He never really stole anything, did he?”
“We needed a fall guy. And Leroy Reed was born to be a fall guy.”
Pete started stepping down the steps of the store, making his way to Warren.
“This isn’t personal, kid. So don’t think too badly of me. Just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Warren’s insides trembled like cold green bean casserole.
But he kept his head up and wouldn’t break Pete’s stare.
If Pete was going to shoot him, he’d have to do it while looking him in the eyes.
“Coward,” Warren said with all the venom he could muster. “No-good coward.”
Pete smiled, nearly letting out a laugh. Warren saw Pete’s right index finger grip the trigger of the rifle.
It was only a matter of time now.
Warren thought of his mom and dad. Of Mae. Of empty seats in English class and a pair of pretty brown eyes that would never be his.
He held his breath, closed his eyes, and braced for the worst, waiting to hear the sound of the gun explode.
But after a long moment of waiting, he heard something else instead.
He flipped his eyes open and gazed at Pete. The smile had faded.
The sirens grew louder and louder, and it seemed to Warren that the whole Pohly County Sheriff’s Office must be bumbling down the dirt road leading up to the lakes.
The two of them just stood looking at each other.
Then, suddenly, Pete dropped the rifle and took off running into the woods.
Chapter 17
Warren sat on the picnic table and watched as Sheriff Sullivan Coe pushed Pete Driggs into the back of his deputy car.
It had been a short chase. In Pete’s desperate flight through the woods, he’d tripped over a fallen log and broken his ankle. The deputies who had arrived had been able to corner him relatively easy.
He was wailing with pain as they walked him to the car.
Shortly after they dealt with Pete, Warren watched another one of Sheriff Coe’s deputies guide Ada Driggs by handcuffs into the same car. She continued to scream about how she didn’t know what was going on, and how she had nothing to do with any of it. That Pete had acted alone.
Of course, everyone knew this wasn’t true.
Clyde Driggs most of all.
Warren looked over at Mr. Driggs now. The big man was sitting hunched over on the bench beside him.
The general store owner was green in the face and looked like he was still in a great deal of pain. But he was sitting upright, and his recovery seemed to be nothing short of miraculous.
“How’d you know, Mr. Driggs?” Warren asked. “How’d you know it was Pete all along?”
Mr. Driggs took his time in answering.
“Right before I was hit, I heard the squeaking of his shoes,” Mr. Driggs said. “Pete always wears that squeaky pair. They’re too small for his big feet, but he bought them because he liked the way they looked. Pete’s always been vain li
ke that.”
He sighed and looked sad suddenly. Like the weight of the world had just rolled on his shoulders.
“I’d been suspecting that something was going on between Pete and Ada for some time now,” Mr. Driggs mumbled. “But I never would have believed they’d go so far as this.”
The big man fell silent. Sheriff Sullivan Coe began walking toward them and Warren felt his muscles tense.
“I’m glad you told the Sheriff when you did, Mr. Driggs,” Warren said. “Glad he listened to you, too.”
“So am I,” Mr. Driggs said. “You’re a good kid, Warren. I’d have hated to see you get hurt in this ugly business.”
The Sheriff stopped just short of the picnic table, looking serious.
“Mr. Driggs – if you would come with us, we’d like to take your statement at the station.”
Sullivan Coe’s eyes flashed at Warren.
He cleared his throat and had trouble holding Warren’s stare.
“We’d, uh, we’d appreciate it if you could come along, too, Mr. Peters.”
Warren looked past Sullivan Coe.
He didn’t care much for liars.
But eventually, Warren helped Mr. Driggs to his car, then drove them to the Sheriff’s station downtown.
Chapter 18
The next Friday, Warren arrived at Mr. Stanley’s English class and saw something that made his heart nearly leap out of his ribcage.
The seat – her seat – which had been empty now for so long, was no longer vacant.
He paused for a moment in the doorway of the classroom, feeling himself overcome with happiness.
Then he did something he’d never done before.
Warren went over and sat down right next to Mae Reed.
“You’re back,” he said. “You’re really back.”
The words came out naturally and he didn’t have to force them.
She looked at him, those eyes of hers lighting up a fire somewhere deep in his soul.
“Mr. Stanley said if I can catch up on all the reading I missed in my spare time, then it won’t affect my grade.”
