"I hope so." I really did. Katherine sipped her coffee and tried to smile at me. The evening had lasted about fifty years, so far.
"I guess I let her down when I caved in to Bob Birk." She turned hard. I've never seen a face that gave away more than hers. "No, I don't guess, Mac; I know I did. Candy had counted on me to save her, and I didn't.
"She lost faith." These last words fell from her lips as she looked down into the coffee cup. I had to cock my head to hear her over the chanting frogs.
"We lived about a mile from the creek, and Candy and Carol and Tommy had planted a bunch of marijuana down there. I didn't know; in fact, I just found out about it." She lifted her head and looked at me, but I stayed quiet.
"It must have been about ready to harvest," she pushed herself on. "Since we lived so close, Candy was the caretaker, and from what she told Dr. Kuyatt, they had planned to sell it to somebody and go on a shopping spree at the mall. Can you believe it?
"They were just kids. Tommy was fifteen and so was Carol, I think. They were going to buy clothes, Mac." Her hands began to shake, but she settled down and her eyes cleared. "They got together after the...after Candy's abortion, and decided to sell the crop and run away together. They didn't want anything more to do with any of us, and I don't blame them." Katherine covered her face with her hands.
As her strength crumbled, her voice took on a pleading tone and I knew she needed support. She was begging for understanding and I just sat there, mute and helpless. She pulled her hands from her face and hugged herself until I finally dug deep and scraped together enough personality to cross over to the sofa. I sat down beside her clumsily, pulled her head to my chest, and leaned back. A deep, sobbing, lonesome cry came from her, sounding like something years in the making. Her hands, bunched together at her breasts, made a hard knot against my ribs.
As she cried, a thorn of irritation made it impossible for me to think rationally about Katherine Furay and her anguish. After a few minutes she stiffened and her tears stopped. She coughed, and wiped her eyes on my shirt, then put her palms against my chest and pushed herself upright. Her eyes were puffy and apologetic. "This isn't me," she said. "I don't cry."
"Boy, I do," I said. "I cry at card tricks."
"I haven't been away from Candy in years, Mac, and I don't think I've ever known this kind of pain," she said. "She's been hurting for so long, and I want it to be over."
Her eyes stayed wet, and I could hear her teeth grinding together. "It's never going to be over."
"Why don't we call it a night?" I said, hoping I sounded kind. "I'm sure someone's waiting and worrying about you, too."
"Nobody here even knows me anymore," she said. I couldn't believe that. "I have a room at the La Quinta, but I'm in no hurry to get back. I would like to call home, though." She pressed her hands together.
"Why don't you just call from here?" I said, suddenly wanting her to linger. I leaned away from her and pulled a clean T-shirt from the laundry basket that usually serves as my combination closet and chest of drawers. I'm very informal at home.
"Wipe your face," I said, and she did.
"You don't mind?" she said.
"No." I lifted my rotary phone from the end table and placed it in her lap. A light rain swept up the sidewalk and tapped on the windows. "But I have to ask you something first. You said they were trying to sell dope to Renaldo Tippit and not the other way around?"
"Mac, please listen closely. That's why I'm here." She put a hand on mine. "According to Candy, Renaldo Tippit wasn't even there. They were selling grass to the other guy, Pete Mullins. Candy said Tommy knew him and they took him out there to show him the plants. That's how dumb they were."
"Trusting," I said. "Like kids."
"Anyhow, Candy was already there. She walked to the creek from the house, and the plan was for her to hide up the path, and if the guy did anything funny, she was supposed to shoot into the air with my four-ten." Katherine shook her head in disbelief, and I tried to imagine a frightened fourteen-year old girl hiding in the dark with a small, loaded shotgun.
"I was in town," Katherine said, "trying to get everything together for the trip. I was so ashamed, I didn't even tell Patty what I was doing. My cousin lived in Las Vegas and, as far as I knew, she was the only relative I had left. So I decided to go there."
A sudden gust of wind rattled the tin on my roof and I heard someone's trash can tumbling down the street. The rain began to fall harder, and its roar on my roof ended the song of the frogs.
"Have you ever been to the creek?" she asked, and I tried to remember. It was popular with the canoe and inner-tube crowd, but spring water's too cold for me and I avoid it. I had driven over it a few times, though, and I told her that.
Well," she said, "you know the big fence that runs along the other side? It's covered with huge pieces of tin and it's really ugly."
"Yeah," I said. "I've seen it. That's all Omni property over there, isn't it?"
Omni, Inc., was a consortium of Panhandle business and community leaders, and the tract of twenty thousand or so acres was protected from taxes by the Greenbelt Laws. Private, armed guards protected it from everything else. There were private hunt clubs and two shallow, landscaped lakes surrounded by luxury retreats, including tennis courts and driving ranges, or so I'd heard. It was probably an innocent mistake, but I wasn't on any of the guest lists.
There was also, according to rumor, a large and sumptuous complex called the Limestone Creek Men's Club, where the powers-that-be dodged the Florida Sunshine Laws once a month to play poker and divide up the Panhandle among themselves. Family fortunes and political careers had supposedly been won and lost there.
"I think it's all Omni's," she said. I draped an arm over the back of the sofa and my hand touched her hair. "Anyhow, Candy was hiding beside one of the pieces of tin on the fence while Tommy and Carol were talking to the Mullins man, and she said Tommy stopped talking and ran over to the fence. Candy said he yelled, "What the hell are you doing?" or something like that, then she heard someone shooting really fast and Tommy fell over on his back. Carol ran over to Tommy and a bright light came on. She said there was a bunch of yelling in Spanish, and Pete Mullins started to run away and they shot him, too."
The hand that covered mine was squeezing my fingers together very hard, and I held my breath, trying not to anticipate the next part of the story. But my mind was full of Columbian dope squads and mountains of cocaine. When I looked at Katherine I could literally see her heartbeat drumming against the thin fabric of her blouse. She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds.
"Someone pulled part of the fence away and Candy saw about a dozen soldiers in camouflage army uniforms come through the hole," Katherine said.
"Wait a minute," I said. "Is she positive they were speaking Spanish?"
"My mother was Spanish," she said. "I taught her to speak it when she was little."
"Oh," I said. "Sorry to interrupt."
"That's okay." Her hand loosened its grip and my fingers tingled. "But, Mac, all this came out in therapy and it was very controlled.
"Let me finish," she said. The wind had stopped, and rain fell gently. "Candy said a soldier with a flashlight ran up and down the path and looked everywhere for someone else. He came just a few feet from her, and she told Dr. Kuyatt she pointed the gun at him." Katherine shivered.
"She heard somebody call him back and tell him the Major was coming, and they got very quiet. Then a tall, blond man in a uniform walked up and said in English, "What have you done, you stupid bastards?
"He talked into a radio - Candy said it looked like a shiny black box with a telephone on top. She couldn't hear any of what he said, or else she still can't remember it, but she said when he put the phone back he talked to the other soldiers in Spanish and told them to turn off the lights.
"Oh, Mac," Katherine leaned back, and I stroked her hair. Tears escaped her dark lashes and left silver trails, and she didn't try to stop them. "Candy said
they turned off the lights but the moon was so bright they didn't really need them. Carol was on her knees beside Tommy, and the blond soldier walked over to her and just pulled out his pistol and shot her in the head."
The air around us turned cold, and my hand stopped moving through her hair. I tried to swallow, but couldn't. When Katherine finally continued, her voice was small and soft. "Dr. Kuyatt told me to go to Senator Teall in Las Vegas and tell him what happened, but I'm scared. You've always been in my mind as the one person I could turn to, because of all the things Patty told me, so I came here first.
"Help me, Mac," she said.
THREE
I got to my feet and walked to the door. Moisture and the cool night air combined to swell the wooden door against the jamb, and I experienced a mild case of panic when I tugged on the brass knob and nothing happened. I needed air. I yanked again and the door came free, drawing in the damp night inside to swirl around me like a cold ocean wave. I leaned against the screen door and took a deep, ragged breath.
I've always loved early Spring in the Florida panhandle. It's too early for jasmine and gardenia, but the wind is always spiced with tender dogwood and lingering wisteria, and rain brings out the scents of wild onion and new grass. Wild plum blossoms, just turning pink in a halo of shiny green leaves, breathe their fragrance into the bouquet until the air is almost an intoxicant, and is always a balm. Or, so I thought.
I gasped for breath like a drowning man, but I could find no peace. I had sunk these last few years into a comfortable Zen state that effectively blocked out anything I didn't want to face - all those things I used to rail about with Sheevers, finger in the air as I accused the world while she applauded. Meddling in the business of other countries, tampering with the environment, or ruining the economy.
The murders at Limestone Creek happened during a time of intense change in Northwest Florida, and we snorted with disgust at each trainload of tanks and artillery that passed through Palmetto Bay to the port, where they were loaded onto big ships and taken into obscurity, unnoticed by the press.
Stories of secret training bases for Central American rebels were pooh-poohed by the government and, in the papers, given the same respect granted people who wrote in to report flying saucers. It still seemed too far-fetched to me, especially considering the amount of land the military owns around here. Why risk doing something like that on private property?
Of course, there are favors and back-scratchings and political considerations to take into account at any time, and this was a time for chest beating and flag waving. I just couldn't think clearly, and I wished I'd stayed a little bit more in practice.
"She can't remember anything else," Katherine said. "Even under hypnosis. There's no recall. When I got home that night she wasn't there, and I was afraid she'd run away. She hadn't talked much to me since the abortion. I sat home and watched the door until she came in about three o'clock in the morning, covered with mud and crying, and I had to strip her down and bathe her before I could put her to bed. All she would say was she'd been out walking."
I looked at Katherine over my shoulder and she seemed smaller, dwarfed by the high-backed couch. Where Sheevers had been round and voluptuous, the color of light honey with vinegar eyes, Katherine was stately and dark, her eyes almost always in shadows. She didn't move as I stared.
"Why don't you go ahead and call her, Katherine?" I stayed formal, but couldn't stop myself from a commitment. "We'll figure out where to start later."
It wasn't direct or forceful, but she looked relieved and her smile was like a kiss. She nodded, and as she dialed I wandered into the kitchen with the coffee cups, trying to contain a strange and complex set of emotions. She cleared her throat as I drifted toward the hall. I pulled at my collar and ran a hand across my hair.
"Hello?" Her voice took on a lilt. "James? It's me...Yes, I've missed you, too."
I stopped, and my heart shot blood through me like a lawn sprinkler. My fingers touched the wall.
"What?" she laughed. "Yes, it's going to be okay." A pause. "I love you, too. Let me talk to Candy."
I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, propped my hands on the sink and avoided the mirror. I felt Sheevers beside me where I knew she would always be, and I let her arms embrace me, felt her cheek on my back.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, and carefully dropped to my knees, my fingers caressing the cold tiles where she died for me. I swore to her then that I would find the ones who took her precious life, and I felt a resolve like the first kindling of an angry fire somewhere deep inside.
I became aware of a pain in my knees and a muscle jumped in my thigh. My toes were cramped inside my shoes and I felt dizzy, reaching out to grasp the sink again, but this time for support. I looked at my watch and it was one-twenty. Sounds of light rain came from the small, dark window above my tub.
I stood slowly, wincing as my knees and ankles popped, then opened the bathroom door and stepped quietly back into the hall. The front door still stood open, and at first I thought she'd gone, but when I walked into the living room I saw her lying on the sofa. She had one arm tucked under her head, and her cheek pushed against it, her lips pursed. The other arm hung over the side, fingers still touching the phone. One leg stretched the length of the cushions and her skirt was bunched around her thighs. Those eyes were smooth and at peace in her sleep, and the effect was startling. She looked like a child.
I went into my bedroom and came back with a light quilt, covered her, removed her shoes, and closed the front door without seeing her move.
I was into my second cup of coffee, and the early morning sun was turning my wet lawn into a field of diamonds when I heard her call out from the sofa.
"In here," I said. "Want some coffee?"
"In a minute." Her voice was thick, and she sounded disoriented. Her feet slapped heavily in the hall and I heard the bathroom door close. I poured a steaming cupful of coffee and slid it across the table. I debated whether to toss the morning paper into a drawer, but there was no need starting this job off wearing kid gloves, so I left it on the table. The headline was bold: BIRK NEXT GOVERNOR?
Actually, the question mark at the end was a surprising bit of temerity, almost an editorial in itself in a town where Birk held such a large percentage of the advertising.
"Time-zit?"she mumbled as her hand cupped my head. She pushed off and made it to the chair.
"Seven-fifteen," I said, glancing at my watch.
"God." She scooped up the cup, and her face almost disappeared behind a cloud of steam when she breathed.
We sat in silence as we drank. I saw her stop in mid-sip and turn her head to the side, her eyes locking in on the front page. "What's that?" she said, her voice flat and dry.
"That's nails for breakfast," I said. "If you want to win this one, you're going to have to learn to eat them."
"I'll do anything to destroy this monster." Katherine took one hand from her cup and jabbed at Birk's photograph.
"Anything?" I said, trying to match her tone. "How about facing reality for starters. Can you do that?"
"Pardon me?" I had caught her by surprise.
"Reality," I said. "I've been sitting here for over an hour trying to fit the pieces together, but there's one that doesn't go, no matter which way I turn it."
I put my cup down and slid it aside. "What was a fourteen year-old girl doing at the Sunset Hotel with Bob Birk?"
Her lips got thin. "What exactly are you implying?"
"Tommy Lovett paid girls your daughter's age to turn tricks for the big shots at the Sunset."
"You bastard!" She took a swing at me, and I slapped her hand away.
"I'm an expert on Tommy Lovett and his business," I said. "That's what I was working on when they came in here and killed Sheevers." I pointed into the hall. "Right in there."
"That's not relevant here." Ice grew in the corners of her eyes. "And, from now on, you can keep your sleazy opinions to yourself."
"It's more than an opinion," I said. "It's fact. You told me Candy and her friends were growing dope to sell for pocket money. I can't remember anymore how hungry a fourteen year-old can get. I do know you were a single mother living in a small trailer and working your ass off for peanuts. I'm saying you might need to give yourself room for that possibility. We can't afford to make mistakes."
"I think I may have already made my mistake," she said through her teeth. "There really might not be anything left in you. I think I came to the wrong man."
She'd spilled coffee, and I wiped it up with a cloth.
"No, you came to the right man," I said. "I'm the only man in the world who hates these people more than you. And I'm the only man in this part of the world that has a chance in hell of making them pay for what they've done. But, we're going to start this relationship off with an understanding. We both want revenge, but these people are very dangerous and if we lie to each other we're going to die. They'll just have a good laugh and keep on doing what they do."
"I don't lie," she said.
"Everybody lies." I poured us both another cup of coffee, but she didn't touch hers. "We even lie to ourselves. But you and I are going to tell each other the truth. Your daughter's life may depend on it. All I want you to do is think about this from all angles. I don't give a shit about how it happened, and I don't think you should, either. I just don't want things to start falling down around us when this gets hot. Believe me, Katherine, this is going to get hot."
The incongruity of a bright morning sun and happily chirping birds just outside the window wasn't lost on either of us as we sat entrenched at opposite ends of the tiny table. The legendary me was shrinking to human proportions, and it was hard on both of us.
There, for just a little while, it felt good to be a champion. I've always wanted to be one. Katherine stood, pushed her chair back, and walked quietly from the room. I heard her shuffling into her shoes and I thought she was leaving. But she came back to the table and sat down. She had a photograph in her fingers, and she placed it over Birk's front-page profile.
A Thousand Bridges Page 3
