4 Malice in Christmas River

by Meg Muldoon

  “I think robbing those banks gave Tex a feeling a power. He talked a lot back then about how helpless Molly’s cancer made him feel. I don’t think it was about the money for him. I think it was about getting that feeling of power back. Something the cancer took away from him.”

  He paused, clearing his throat.

  My stomach twisted into a knot. I felt as though I was watching a horror movie – I was afraid of what lay around the corner.

  “I told him I’d have to tell our chief,” he continued. “That I had no choice. And that’s when it all came out. He just started crying. Like these uncontrollable sobs. I almost started crying myself. He was a good man, Cin, you know? He’d done some bad things, but he was still a good man.”

  He paused again, and I couldn’t take anymore breaks in the story.

  “What happened next?” I said, barely above a whisper.

  He looked dead into my eyes. There was a startling iciness in them that turned my blood cold. The look of justice at all costs.

  “They came and arrested him at his house,” Daniel said. “In front of Molly. He went to trial. He got 20 years. The cancer came back, and Molly died a couple weeks after the sentencing.”

  I shuddered.

  It was a horrible story.

  I sat there silently for a few minutes, just processing it. Trying to make sense of it.

  Trying to make sense of what Daniel did.

  It had been a bad situation. All around. Tex had crossed the line. A line which nobody, not even a policeman, could cross and expect everything to be okay. He stole money, he hurt people, he broke the very thing he vowed to uphold.

  It wasn’t for me to judge Daniel. What do you do when neither option is good?

  But I couldn’t help my immediate gut reaction to the story. A small part of me couldn’t help thinking that given Tex’s reasons for robbing the banks, maybe Daniel could have…

  Maybe it could have ended differently somehow. Maybe he didn’t have to go to the chief. Maybe…

  It just felt cruel. Just. But cruel.

  Daniel seemed to be reading my mind.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said.

  I bit my lip.

  “I don’t think you do,” I bluffed.

  “Yes, yes I do. I know,” he continued. “Because Tex thought the same thing. But I didn’t do it, Cin. I didn’t turn him in. I tried. I made an appointment with the chief and everything. But when it came down to it, I just…”

  He trailed off.

  “I knew it was wrong not to turn him it. But it felt more wrong to snitch on my own partner.”

  He sighed.

  “Doesn’t make me much of a cop, does it?”

  He forced a half-smile that faded away quickly, like a flower wilting in a fall frost.

  “It makes you a good person,” I said, squeezing his hand. “But if you didn’t turn him in, then who did?”

  He shook his head.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “The chief kept it under wraps. Called it an anonymous source that tipped him off. But, you see, Tex has always thought it was me who turned him in. He hates me for it. Even though, on some level, I think he knows he was wrong. But he thinks I stole his last days with his wife away from him. He sent me a letter after she died, threatening me. Said he’d come and find m…”

  My heart started beating quickly as the pieces all started to fall in place.

  This story wasn’t just something of the past, an ugly memory filed away forever.

  “Where’s Tex now?” I said, my voice cracking.

  He didn’t answer for a moment.

  “Daniel?”

  He looked out the window, letting out a long and ragged breath.

  “Tex got out a couple of weeks ago,” he said. “Five years early. For good behavior.”

  I felt the room start to spin.

  It wasn’t hard to connect the dots, from Tex’s release to Daniel’s “accident.”

  And the scariest part about it all, the thing that had my heart beating faster than a rabbit running from a coyote, was that Tex, The Sandman, was still out there.

  He could hurt Daniel again… only this time it’d be more than a concussion and a broken leg.

  “No, Cin,” he said, as if he was reading my mind again. “That’s not what happened. I don’t think Tex would’ve done something like that.

  Not after all these years…”

  He said the words, but there was doubt in his voice.

  Chapter 40

  “I appreciate you being worried, Ms. Peters,” Trumbow said after I’d finished telling him about Tex. “But I gotta tell ya. Me and the boys took a real thorough look at the scene where the accident happened. There wasn’t anything to suspect foul play. Just negligence on the part of Bill Bryerson.”

  I was pacing outside the hospital entrance, regretting ever making this call to Trumbow. A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of my face. The sun was strong and hot, and the skies were once again faded and smoky. It was over 90. Something practically unheard of in a Christmas River September.

  I was so tired of this weather.

  “But look,” I said, continuing to fight an uphill battle. “Daniel’s old partner gets out of prison a week before Daniel gets hurt. And you don’t think that’s worth looking into?”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Young lady, I know it’s hard when something like this happens,” he said. “You want to assign blame, when the plain truth is, Bill Bryerson got drunk and didn’t lock up the trailer. There was nothing else to it, sweetheart. Just the wrong place at the—.”

  “Wrong time,” I said, snidely, finishing his sentence. “You told me that already.”

  I didn’t like being called sweetheart or young lady, like I was a little girl.

  Trumbow had a way of getting under my skin with those little terms of endearment.

  “Exactly,” he said.

  “Okay,” I said. “But would you just entertain the possibility that this might not have been an accident? I know you talked to Bill. And I’m sure he told you that he locked that trailer up tight that night.”

  “How do you know that?” Trumbow said. “You’ve been talking to him? You know, I’m not any lawyer, but it seems to me that you’d do well to not speak to Bryerson at this point if you’re planning to sue.”

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to tell him it was Erik Andersen who told me.

  “I just want justice to be done. And you might be right, Trumbow. It might have just been an accident…”

  I trailed off.

  “But maybe it wasn’t. And maybe the evidence is right there. You just have to do a little work on your part to find it.”

  Trumbow was silent. Since we were on the phone, I couldn’t tell if steam was coming out of his ears, or if he was actually considering what I was saying.

  “Trumbow?” I finally said.

  “I’ll be there when they release Daniel tomorrow,” he said.

  The phone clicked, and I realized that he’d hung up on me.

  It was all I could do to start shouting ugly names at the dead tone.

  I wasn’t sure about much when it came to Daniel’s accident. The only thing I was sure of was that Trumbow wasn’t going to do a damn thing about it.

  Chapter 41

  I called Erik. I reminded him before I said anything that again, he couldn’t use anything I said on the record. He agreed, if somewhat reluctantly.

  I told him about Tex Stevens, but kept out the details about him being Daniel’s former partner. I only told him he was a crazy cop on the Fresno Police Department who was put away for robbing banks, and that he was released the week before. Erik said he’d look into Tex, and if he found any recent photos, he’d send them to me.

  After the phone calls, I went back inside the hospital to the cafeteria to meet Kara. Warren was upstairs with Daniel, talking his ear off again. I was amazed at the old man’s energy and enthusiasm. I would have expected him to be
jet lagged, but he just kept talking and talking and talking.

  I was glad to see Kara. Even if I’d just seen her the day before, spending days and nights at the hospital had a way of warping time. It moved differently between these walls.

  I gave her a big hug. She was looking a little pale herself, but I knew that she’d been busy at the shop.

  I got a latte and Kara got a tea, and we grabbed one of the empty tables.

  I told her everything About Daniel’s accident possibly not being an accident.

  She listened, wide-eyed.

  “That’s so scary, Cin,” she finally said when I finished. “To think that he’s still out there. I mean… he could still be here in Christmas River.”

  “I know,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady so I wouldn’t let on just how much that thought scared me.

  “But, Cin. Are you sure that it’s a good idea to work with Erik Andersen on this? I mean, I know Trumbow’s a bonehead, but isn’t Deputy McHale supposed to get back from vacation today? Couldn’t you wait until a cop with at least half a brain gets here to do more investigating? Rather than trust an eel like Erik?”

  I shook my head.

  “I know, I thought the same thing,” I said. “But he doesn’t think it was an accident either. And I know he’s not exactly the most trustworthy, but I can use all the help that I can get right now.”

  Kara let out a grunt and took a sip of her tea. A silence settled in over the table.

  I hated that I’d become so familiar with this cafeteria. In some ways, it had been a nice respite from the drab walls of the hospital room. But in other ways, the cafeteria was like the land of the living dead. Loved ones, like myself, who’d been spending hours and hours by bedsides, all eventually dragged themselves down here for some sustenance. Raccoon eyes and pale faces seemed to be the trademark characteristics of the folks sitting around the tables.

  I was tired of this place. Tired of seeing Daniel laid up. Tired of the worry.

  I suddenly wanted to talk about something… anything else that would take my mind off this place and the accident and The Sandman.

  “So what did you want to tell me?” I asked.

  Kara looked a little surprised.

  “What?” she said.

  “The night of the accident, you sent me that text message,” I said, flashing back on the image of Brad and her sitting on the sofa together. “You said you had something to tell me.”

  “Oh, that?” she said taking a long sip of her tea while swiping at something imaginary in the air. “That was nothing. I’ll tell you about it some other time.”

  Whatever it was, I didn’t get the feeling that it was just “nothing.”

  I’d had a chance to think about it. And I’d come to the conclusion that no matter what Kara decided – whether she ran off with Brad, or went back to John – I would support her 110 percent and do my best not to pass any judgment. As much as I liked her and John together, it was a moot point if she was unhappy with him.

  I cleared my throat, throwing a glance sideways to make sure there weren’t any gossipy eavesdroppers sitting at the nearby tables. In a town this size, you could never be too careful.

  I leaned forward.

  “You know, John… uh… John stopped by the pie shop the other day,” I said in a low voice.

  I watched her expression carefully. Her pupils got a little bigger, but there weren’t any visible signs of panic at being found out.

  “Really?” she said.

  I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. She finished the rest of her tea in a slow, calm manner, as if she had no idea where I was going with this.

  “You want to know why John stopped by?” I asked.

  She shrugged.

  “Not particularly,” she said. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea already about what he might have said.”

  There was a distant iciness in her tone that didn’t seem at all like Kara.

  “Kara,” I said. “You were right about me stopping by your house that night. I wanted to see how you were doing, but then I saw that… that you already had company.”

  “I don’t appreciate being spied on, Cin,” she said sharply.

  “I know, and I didn’t mean to,” I said. “Kara, all I want is to see you happy. That’s what’s most important. And if it’s not with John, well, then—”

  She shook her head.

  “You have no idea, Cin,” she said, standing up abruptly.

  She looked up at the ceiling and let out a long breath.

  “Look, you’ve got enough on your plate as is. This is just one extra helping of mashed potatoes you don’t need right now.”

  She grabbed the empty paper cup and her purse from off the table.

  “Where are you going?” I said.

  “I’ve got to get back to the shop,” she said coldly. “And I think you should get some rest.”

  She started walking away.

  “Kara—”

  “Let me know if you need anything,” she said, not turning around.

  She pushed her way through the doors and headed out into the parking lot.

  I was left shaking my head, a bitter sadness welling up at the base of my chest.

  Kara and I used to tell each other everything.

  Chapter 42

  I stepped in the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. Just as the doors were closing, a man squeezed on.

  His face lit up when he saw me.

  He was carrying a bouquet of wilted flowers that looked as though he’d picked them down at one of the parks. He was wearing a wrinkled jean shirt that matched wrinkled Levi’s. He had a scuffed copy of some DVD in his other hand.

  “Well, hullo, Mrs. Brightman,” he said. “I’m glad I ran into ya here. I didn’t know which way to go.”

  I stifled a sigh.

  “Hi, George,” I said. “You here to see Daniel?”

  George Hardin, the sheriff deputy wannabe from the Rodeo, the one who helped me set up my pie stand, had made the trip to the hospital to show his support.

  Which was an admirable gesture, if I didn’t think he was still after a job with the Sheriff’s Office.

  “That I am, Ma’am,” he said. “I’m awful sorry about what happened to the Sheriff. And I apologize it’s taken me so long to come by. The Rodeo kept me real busy.”

  “I’m sure Daniel understands,” I said.

  He grinned that greasy grin of his, and the elevator lurched as it came to a stop.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re looking right pretty today, Mrs. Brightman,” George said. “I wouldn’t have thought your husband had just been in a bad accident.”

  I didn’t know if that was a compliment, or what it was. All I knew was that I got something akin to the creeps when he said it.

  I just nodded.

  The elevator doors opened and I went first, glad to be out. He followed close behind at my heels.

  I was almost certain that Daniel wouldn’t want to see this particular visitor.

  “You, uh, you just wait here a moment,” I said when we got to the front desk. “I’ll let the Sheriff know you’re here.”

  He nodded reluctantly, and then I popped into Daniel’s room. Both him and Warren looked over at me, and I silently placed a finger to my lips, hushing them. They stopped talking.

  A moment later, I came out of the room.

  “I’m so sorry, George,” I said. “It looks as though the Sheriff is asleep. It’s a real shame because I’m sure he would have loved to see you.”

  George’s face fell into a deep-set frown.

  “Are you sure?” he said. “Because I could have sworn that I heard talking coming from that room a sec—”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “But I’d be happy to give these to him when he wakes up.”

  “Oh… alright then,” he said, his spirits apparently crushed.

  He handed me the wilted bouquet, which was held together with a rubber band, alon
g with the DVD.

  “I thought he might get a kick out of this,” he said. “It’s one of my favorites. I watch it all the time. Tell him he can have it for a week.”

  George winked at me, and the creepy crawly feeling came back.

  I nodded.

  “I’m, uh, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” I said.

  “Okay, then.”

  He turned and walked down the hall.

  I glanced down at the DVD in my hand.

  Cop Bloopers 5: The Goofiest Blunders Edition.

  I couldn’t help but let out a little grunt of disgust, though I immediately felt guilty for doing so.

  I was sure George was well-meaning. If nothing else.

  Chapter 43

  Warren was out like a candle in a hurricane during the ride home.

  I guess the old man had finally talked himself out. He was snoring as soft as a baby when we pulled up to the house in the dimming dusk.

  I turned the car off and nudged him softly.

  “C’mon,” I said. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  “Pish-posh,” he said, waving his hand. “I came halfway across the world. I’m not going to let a little sleepiness get in the way of me talking to my granddaughter.”

  I looked at his wrinkled face, feeling nothing but love in my heart for my old friend.

  He didn’t have to make the trip back here. But he had, because he knew that it would mean the world to me to have him here.

  I leaned over and gave him another hug. I think I might have put too much force into it, because I could kind of hear a whooshing noise as I squeezed him tightly.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I said. “It just hasn’t been the same around here without you.”

  “Likewise,” he squeaked out.

  I laughed and let go of him.

  I could have let out a few more tears in that moment, but I managed to hold them back.

  There’d already been too many tears this week.

  I got out and grabbed his suitcase from the trunk. I wheeled it up with one arm, helping him up the steps of the porch with the other.