“What do you want?” he asked.
“Pack a bag,” I said.
TWENTY-ONE
BARRY Duckworth was pulling into his driveway when his cell phone rang. He put the car in park, turned off the engine, and dug the phone out of his pocket. The display said the call was coming from Promise Falls City Hall.
He had a bad feeling.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hey, Barry, how’s it hangin’?”
“Randy,” he said.
Randall Finley chortled. “Barry, aren’t you supposed to call me Your Worship or Your Honor or Mr. Mayor or some shit like that?”
Duckworth thought “Some Shit Like That” did have a nice ring to it, but kept the thought to himself. “What can I do for you, Randy?”
“There’s talk going around that you aren’t coming to the memorial thing. Tell me that’s not true.”
“I’m pretty busy,” Duckworth said.
“You’re the fucking star of the show. You’re the one that caught the guy. You have to be there.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Look, Barry, I’m being serious here. The town needs this. They need to honor those who died a year ago. They need to pay their respects. And everyone loves a hero. You’re the hero. If you don’t show up, it’s like a massage without the happy ending. You gotta be there. We need something like this to counter all the shit that’s been going on. You know what I saw yesterday? Go on, ask me.”
“What did you see yesterday, Randy?” Duckworth asked.
“I was out by the water plant, by the tower.”
It had been the deliberately contaminated water in the tower that had killed scores of Promise Falls residents.
“And there’s this dumb fuck who’s managed to get over the gate and gone up the stairs, and he’s standing right on the top of the water tower and he’s got on a cape or something like that and the words ‘Captain Avenger’ on his shirt. The fire department had to send a crew over to get the dumb bastard down before he killed himself. You know what, Barry? There are a lot of sick fucks out there. People who think we got what we deserved. That what happened here was justice. Can you believe that kind of thinking?”
“Anything else, Randy?” Duckworth asked.
“God, you’ve always been a stubborn son of a bitch. Think about it, okay? If you come, I’m gonna give you a plaque.”
“I don’t want a plaque.”
“I’ve already ordered it.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Mayor.” Duckworth ended the call and got out of the car.
Given that his was the only vehicle in the driveway, he knew he had arrived home before Maureen or Trevor. Maureen he expected to get here at any moment. As for Trevor, who knew?
He came in the side door of the house, which led him directly into the kitchen. He took off his sport jacket, loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves. Then he removed his weapon from his belt holster and put it in a lockbox in the laundry room, as was his usual routine.
He returned to the kitchen, opened the fridge and reached for a lite beer. He didn’t know that drinking lite beer was really doing anything for him in the calorie department. Used to be he’d have only one beer when he got home, but now he often had two. He uncapped the bottle, put it to his lips, and drew on it for several seconds.
He couldn’t help but feel relieved that Trevor was not home.
He opened the fridge a second time and wondered about dinner. Should he start something? Maureen usually cooked supper, but she worked all day the same as he did. But if it were up to him, they’d be eating steaks with baked potatoes smothered in butter and sour cream. He knew Maureen would have something healthier in mind. In fact, the fridge was filled with clear plastic containers of salad.
Oh joy.
He decided the best action for now was inaction. He took his beer with him to the kitchen table, sat down, and reached for Maureen’s iPad, which was sitting there.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Craig Pierce.
Some things, once seen, could not be unseen.
The man had suffered horrific injuries, and yet, by the end of their discussion, Duckworth was feeling no pity for him. If ever a case proved that victimization did not confer sainthood, it was Craig Pierce.
But Pierce had given Duckworth something to think about. If he and Brian Gaffney had both been set upon by the same person—or persons—why were the horrors visited upon Pierce splashed across the Internet, but not what was done to Gaffney?
Clearly someone was trying to make a point with Gaffney. But the man with the tattooed message on his back claimed not to know what it was about. And Duckworth was finding it hard to believe that what had been done to the man had anything to do with Mrs. Beecham’s dead dog. Although he had a feeling something funny was going on at that old lady’s house that had nothing to do with Brian Gaffney.
Wait, he thought. Maybe—
He heard a car pulling into the driveway, the engine dying. When the door to the kitchen opened, and Maureen stepped in, Duckworth got up to greet her. He walked over, beer in hand, and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Hey,” he said. “I was going to start dinner, but I thought—”
“Oh, stop,” she said.
The first thing she did, even before taking off her jacket, was kick off her shoes. “God, I’ve been waiting forever to do that. I know desk jobs are awful, but at least if I had one of those I wouldn’t have to stand for nine hours.”
“Long day?” he asked.
“Is it possible to do a twenty-hour shift in a nine-hour work day? It was like time slowed down.” Maureen had worked at the eyeglass place in the mall for ten years and had never loved it. It had never been more than just a job. “What about you?”
Duckworth grimaced. “It had its moments.”
“Good or bad?”
He thought before answering. “Memorable.”
“Dumb question, anyway,” she said, “considering what you do. Was there a high point? Or a low point that was so low it was a high point?”
There were a few to choose from. The tattooed man? The one who’d had his genitals bitten off? The interrogation of their son and his new girlfriend?
“Let me think about that.”
“Why don’t you think about it while I get changed for dinner.”
“Say what?”
“You’re taking me out.” She smiled and gave him a kiss. “It’s so thoughtful of you.”
“Do I get to pick the place?” He was already thinking ribs.
She hesitated. “Why don’t we give Trevor a call and see if he wants to join us? We can let him pick the place.”
When Duckworth didn’t jump on the suggestion, Maureen said, “What? What’s wrong, Barry?”
“I think it’d be nice, just the two of us.”
“Did something happen today with Trevor?”
Duckworth was debating how much to tell her when they became aware of another car pulling into the driveway, followed seconds later by the slamming of a car door.
“Speak of the devil,” he said.
The door into the kitchen opened. Trevor took one step in and froze at the sight of his parents.
“Hey, Trev,” Maureen said cheerfully.
“Oh, great,” he said, taking in the two of them. “I guess Dad’s already filled you in.”
“About?”
“Treating me and my girlfriend like a couple of suspects.”
Maureen looked sharply at her husband. “What?” Then, just as quickly, back at Trevor, “Girlfriend?”
Duckworth shook his head. “It’s not like that. Trevor, you know that’s not how it was.”
“I never felt so embarrassed in my life,” Trevor said, moving past them. “Just the way you want someone to meet your dad.”
“What did you do?” Maureen asked Duckworth.
“I thought he might have been able to help me,” he said. “Simple as that.”
“Were you ever going to tell me about
this?”
“You’ve been home for like two minutes,” Duckworth said defensively.
“Who’s this girl?” she asked Trevor.
“Carol,” he said.
“Beakman,” Duckworth added.
“Yeah, Dad would remember. I think he wrote it all down in his little notebook.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Duckworth said. “Come on, Maureen, let’s get some dinner.”
“We’re going out,” Maureen told Trevor. “Come with us. We’ll get this all sorted.”
“I’ll pass,” Trevor said, exiting the kitchen.
“What will you eat?” Maureen asked. “I haven’t made anything. There’s some—”
“I’m not five, Mom,” he said. “I’ll figure something out.” They heard him stomp up the stairs.
“It’s like having a teenager all over again,” Duckworth said.
“How could you do that to him?”
He raised his palms. “I’m telling you, he’s overreacting. I’m sorry it happened, but he’s blowing it all out of proportion. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
“I don’t even know if I want to go now.”
“Come on. Do I still get to pick?”
She eyed him warily. “Fine. Pick.”
“Let’s go to Knight’s.”
Maureen’s face fell. “You’re not serious. That’s not a restaurant. It’s a dive.”
“They have good wings,” he said. “And there’s something there I want to have another look at.”
She shrugged. “Give me five minutes.”
Maureen managed to tread more lightly going up the stairs than her son had moments earlier. It wasn’t her intention to be a sneak. It was just that, in her stocking feet, she didn’t make a sound when she reached the second-floor hallway and started heading to the bedroom she shared with her husband.
The door to her son’s room was ajar, and she could hear him talking on his cell phone.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Trevor whispered. It sounded to Maureen like an angry whisper.
“You certainly don’t have to do it on my account,” he continued. “Yeah, well, maybe what we’re doing now is the right thing.”
Maureen held her position in the hall.
“I don’t like being dragged into something that involves my father. Promise Falls’ most famous cop. God, I thought your eyes were going to pop out of your head when you saw the picture of that dude’s back.”
Maureen didn’t detect any admiration in his tone.
“Fine,” Trevor said. “Do whatever you want . . . Yes, yes, I’m still coming. I’ll meet you there.”
Then, a very clipped “Bye.”
Maureen continued down the hall to prepare for dinner out with her husband. But she wasn’t thinking about what she would order.
What did Trevor think wasn’t a good idea?
TWENTY-TWO
CAL
“PACK?” Jeremy said, sitting up on the bed.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think the only way to keep you safe is to get you out of here.”
He swung his feet down to the floor. “What should I pack?”
I shrugged. “Your stuff.”
“My mom usually puts everything in my case when we go anywhere.”
“Whatever you brought when you came from home, bring that.”
“How long will we be gone?”
I hadn’t really thought about that. “I don’t know. Two, three days to start. Just pack whatever you’ve got. If you run out of stuff, we’ll get more.”
“Will you get me a phone?”
“No. Give me two minutes. I think your mom’s okay with this, but I just want to be sure.” I hesitated. “Unless you don’t want to go.”
He appeared dumbstruck. “Uh, I guess it’s okay.”
I could hear an ongoing discussion in the kitchen as I was descending the stairs. Gloria had clearly made her way back there from the living room.
“I swear, it’s like you think I’m alcoholic,” she said.
“I didn’t use that word, you just did,” Ms. Plimpton replied.
“You don’t have to use it. I know it’s what you mean. Let me ask you this, Madeline. Has it occurred to you that maybe I drink just a titch more than I used to? And have you asked yourself why that might be?”
“We’ve all been through a lot,” her aunt said.
“Oh yes, what you’ve been through, it’s just been terrible. How many times did you show up during the trial? Was it three? Four?”
“It was more than that and you know it, Gloria,” Ms. Plimpton said defensively.
“And when you did come, you know what was interesting? That we had a hard time finding you at the end of the day.”
“Gloria, stop.”
“But one of those days, I did find you. Didn’t I? But not at the end of the day.”
“For God’s sake, this has nothing to do with anything.”
Bob looked at Gloria pleadingly. “Gloria.”
“There you were, coming out of the hotel elevator at eight in the morning with Grant Finch.”
Ms. Plimpton turned away.
“I guess the good news is women your age still like to get their motor running,” Gloria said. She smiled wickedly at Bob. “That’s certainly encouraging for our twilight years, isn’t it, hon?”
Bob gave Ms. Plimpton a strained look of apology. “It’s the wine.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “She’s never appreciated a damn thing I’ve done for her.”
Gloria waved her arms dramatically. “Oh yes, you came to my rescue after my daddy died. And I should be forever grateful.”
“Can the two of you just stop this?” Bob said. “I swear to God. Or maybe you should just fight to the death. I don’t know that I even fucking care any more.” He turned to leave. “I need to make a call to Galen. There’s something I forgot to ask him about.”
“Galen, Galen, Galen,” Gloria said. “Maybe you should marry him.”
“Damn it, would you knock it off? Galen’s been a great help to us.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Gloria said. “He’s been swell.”
“He’s putting a fortune into our pockets is what he’s doing, letting me in on this deal,” Bob said. “If you don’t want us to be millionaires, just say the word.”
That shut Gloria up, at least long enough for me to make my entrance.
“I have a proposal,” I said. All eyes turned to me. I think they were a little stunned, and embarrassed, that I’d been a witness to their squabbling.
“What might that be?” Bob asked.
“I’ll take Jeremy for a couple of days.”
Gloria said, “Take him where?”
“First, away. I’ve got him packing his bag now. Your number-one concern is Jeremy’s security. Instead of trying to make this place safe so he can stay here, it’s easier to take him someplace else.”
Bob was nodding. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“The whole country knows he’s in Promise Falls. Why not let them keep thinking that? You’re all big enough to look after yourselves.”
Gloria looked unconvinced. “I don’t know. I don’t like letting him out of my sight. I didn’t know this was what you were thinking.”
“I’d take good care of him.”
Gloria set down her wine glass. “Okay,” she said. “I guess it would be okay. I better go help him get ready.”
I held up a hand. “Like I said, he’s on it.”
She looked hurt. “He might forget something.”
“He’s doing great. If we’re missing something, we’ll pick it up on the way.”
“Where will you go?” Bob asked.
“I’m thinking about that. Maybe we’ll do a road trip, keep moving.” I looked at Madeline Plimpton. “You have my number if anyone needs to get in touch.”
She nodded, then said to her niece, “I guess you two can go back to Albany.”
“We can hang in for a few more days,�
� Gloria said. “It’s always lovely spending time with you, Madeline.”
Whatever stuff Jeremy had, it all fit into his backpack. He dumped it into the trunk of my Honda, which was still parked on the street. He was about to get into the front seat when his mother came out of the house. We’d already said our goodbyes inside, but evidently it wasn’t enough.
She threw her arms around him and pulled him close to her.
“You be good,” she told him. Over his shoulder she said to me, “You take good care of my boy.”
“You bet,” I said.
Gloria put her mouth to his ear and whispered some sweet nothing. I decided to give them a moment of privacy and got into the car. Jeremy joined me in the passenger seat fifteen seconds later. His face was flushed red with what I guessed was embarrassment.
“Have to go by my place first to get a few things,” I said, keying the ignition.
“Like a gun?” he asked.
“Like socks and underwear.”
“Oh. Don’t you carry a gun?”
“Sometimes.”
“My mom got one.”
“Terrific.”
“She got it during the trial. Actually, Bob bought it for her. Because we were getting so many death threats.”
“Did your mom take any lessons in how to use it?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Bob told her all you have to do is point it and shoot it.”
“Where’s that gun now?”
“When we got here, Mom was keeping it in her purse, but that freaked out my grandmother. She made her put it away. It’s in the kitchen drawer right next to the knives and forks. I took it out the other night and was looking at it when they were all in the living room.”
“Is it loaded?”
Jeremy nodded. “It wouldn’t be much good if someone broke in and it didn’t have any bullets in it.”
If the car hadn’t been moving, I’d have closed my eyes while I sighed. It was just as well I was getting the kid out of that house for a while.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“Downtown.”
“This town’s kind of the pits, isn’t it?”
“It’s seen better days. Some people say it’s on the comeback. We’ve got a new mayor. Actually, he was the mayor a long time ago, and now he’s back in office. Maybe he’ll make a difference.”
Parting Shot Page 15
