Family Issue

by Nat Burns

  He raised one eyebrow and looked at me. As if I should have known better.

  “I know, I know,” I said, sighing heavily. “Circumstantial.”

  The sound of slamming car doors drew our attention to the front door. Officer Seychelles went out on the porch and spoke with the handful of police officers gathering there. The circling, flashing cruiser lights shone regularly in the front foyer through the open door, making the scene colorfully surrealistic.

  I walked over to the door and saw that four cruisers were parked outside, engines still running. Their occupants were gathered around Seychelles, and he was gesturing forcefully as if marking off quadrants of land with his arms. As I watched, two policemen got in their cruiser and drove quickly out of the drive. Other officers moved to their vehicles and started unpacking items from the trunks.

  Officer Seychelles left the small clump of remaining policemen and came back inside.

  “Okay, everyone. Listen up. We would like for all of you to get dressed because we’re gonna need each and every one of you to walk the land with us. We have some volunteers, but we want to comb the area thoroughly. Please, gather all the flashlights you can get together, and let’s go find that little girl.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Looking for a four-year-old little girl on a two hundred-acre farm was very much like looking for a needle in a haystack. After dressing for the outdoors and gathering what flashlights we could find, the eight of us filed outside to stand by the parked police cruisers, their red and blue lights sweeping the front yard with mournful regularity. Seychelles had radioed in to send a cruiser over to Rainerd’s home, and we eagerly awaited their answer. It came back about ten minutes later. Rainerd—and Kissy—were not at the Abbott Street location.

  Patty had found a new strength now that she felt she knew the identity of the enemy. She had pulled on her hiking boots and stood stirring anxiously, prepared to fight to find her daughter. Erica had changed too and now wore heavy jeans and a denim shirt over a white T-shirt.

  The police staff immediately began setting up a command center, even though it was the middle of the night. I feel like they may have hesitated in a normal missing child case, but because Rainerd was likely involved, they worked with some urgency. Additional officers and volunteer deputies were arriving, more every half hour. Soon we had more than twenty-five people gathered, flashlights in hand. Seychelles warned us to watch out for snakes and alligators, then divided us up into two groups of ten and spread us out over the cane and hay fields. If we happened to stumble across Kissy, we were told to shout the word “safe” repeatedly at the top of our lungs and wave our flashlight until Seychelles found us.

  Bone and I headed in a slanting course, heading to the left, beyond the main entrance to Fortune Farm. We walked about ten feet apart and we could hear everyone calling out Kissy’s name every few minutes. The night was filled with the swath of flashlights, like so many huge fireflies, and the buzz of mosquitoes and June bugs was loud and annoying as they followed us.

  “Denni?” Bone called out some time later.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you even guess that Megs wasn’t Patty’s birth mother?” The question was tentative, thoughtful.

  I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “No, no clue. I knew Patty never looked like her, but John Clyde doesn’t so much either.”

  She grunted. “Wouldn’t that just smoke John Clyde’s ass if he found out that he was adopted as well?”

  I smiled. “Now that would be awesome,” I replied.

  The section of land we were traversing sloped gently downward, and we quieted to be better able to navigate in the tricky lighting. The night was dark due to a heavy cloud cover, so I was not surprised when I stopped just short of stepping in a small creek, one of the smaller branches of the Sabine. Frustrated, panting and sweating in the heavy still air, I looked over at Bone. “Watch out! There’s water here.”

  She slowed and swung her flashlight in a wide arc. “Guess we’ll have to detour one way or the other. Which is best?”

  I looked around, trying to map out the terrain in my mind. I vaguely remembered where the main road was. “Let’s go left. I think it’ll circle around.”

  Bone walked over to be closer to me, and we started moving toward the firmer land above the waterway. We were met with thick underbrush and found there was no way we could push through. I sat down on the marshy ground and buried my face in my arms. I wanted to cry, but I think there’s a point we get to when tears just can’t express the sadness and anguish we feel. I wanted Megs to be there. I wanted it to be the way it had been when the Price family had been like my family and when it was a family that I thought would last forever. I could hear Bone breathing heavily above me so I lifted up my hand, seeking hers for comfort. She was a lifeline I needed very much at that moment. Somehow she understood and she took my hand in hers. She held it there for a very long time, a quiet comfort amidst the emotional storm I was weathering.

  She spoke finally, softly, her voice low. “We’ll find her, Denni. I know you and I deal in a world where little girls don’t always come home safe and sound. But this is Kissy. Kissy. She’s one strong little girl. She’ll fight, Denni, and when she does we’ll be here for her. Waiting, watching.”

  She crouched down and found my face with her hands. “We owe this to her, Denni. To not give up. If she fights, we fight. It’s that simple and that direct.”

  I pondered her words and knew that I had it in me to find her. To search until I really, physically, could not search any more. I would mourn the dissolution of the strong Price family later, when I was alone and had the luxury of time to squander.

  I mopped at my face with my shirtsleeves. “You’re right. Of course. You’re right, my smart, sensible Bone.”

  Struggling to my feet, I took Bone’s hand, leading her farther up the hill where the going was smoother. Topping the incline, I realized that dawn was imminent; there was a subtle lightening of the sky along the horizon. Taking in a deep breath, I held it a long beat then exhaled slowly. Come on, Megs, help me out here, I thought. Your family needs you now more than ever before.

  “Hey, Denni?” Bone tugged at my shoulder.

  “Mmm?” I looked back toward the house. Flashlights peppered the fields below us like a swarm of fireflies.

  “I saw a light,” she said.

  “I see lots of lights, honey,” I replied absently. I was trying to decide our next move.

  “Not over there, you don’t.”

  I swiveled to face her, and my eyes followed her gaze. There, on the other side of the tributary, sure enough, there was a faint glow, bright because it was in the midst of an ebony darkness.

  “What’s over there?” I mused, searching my memory. Nothing would come.

  “Turn off your light,” Bone ordered in a low whisper. I complied and we were surrounded by an immense mantle of night. We stood very still, waiting for our eyes to adjust. The distant light wavered a bit, then moved slowly to the right. Then suddenly it was gone.

  “We have to go, don’t we?” Bone said, a small tremor in her voice.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Call Seychelles,” she said.

  I hesitated, my hand in my pocket on my cell. “Let’s see what it is first. If it’s a ghost, I don’t want to give him a new story to share around the watercooler. Besides…I’m turned around and not exactly sure I could tell him where we are.”

  DAY SIX

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  We inched our way down the incline, back the way we’d come. We were slow and methodical, depending on our other senses just as much as on sight. When we reached the water’s edge, Bone tossed a small rock into the center. Then another.

  “It’s shallow,” she determined. Taking my hand, she led the way across the slippery stones. Gaining the bank on the other side, we came up against what appeared to be a fence. I wanted to shine my light on it, but Bone warned me against it
. In case it was electrified, I threw a handful of grass and dirt at it. Nothing sparked, so I felt confident enough to touch it gingerly with a fingertip. It was barbed wire only. I held the top strand up so Bone could wriggle through and she did the same for me. As we stood, we saw, by the lightening sky, an angled hill filled with grazing land that stretched as far as we could see. White sheep clumped together at one end of the field.

  “I bet this is Taylor’s land,” I said. “I just knew that snake was involved somehow.”

  Bone stood next to me, trying to catch her breath in the humid heat released by the heavy plant growth around us. “There it is,” she said urgently.

  Off to our right there stood a large two-story barn, still a dark, lurking hulk in the morning dimness but a barn without doubt. And, visible through one of the windows—the one facing away from Fortune Farm—there shone a faint light. The barn was surrounded by large boxy-looking things. As we got closer, I realized they were old hay wagons, still piled with hay, that had been parked there along the barn walls.

  Bone and I made our way cautiously along the fence line until we came upon the back of the huge barn. We heard indistinct voices from inside, then, like a knife in my heart, we heard a small child cry out. I wanted to go get her right away, but Bone wisely held me back.

  “Why would Taylor take the child?” Bone asked.

  “To blackmail John Clyde and make him sell the land so Taylor can buy it…for the oil,” I whispered back.

  “Ahhh,” she sighed. “We need backup.”

  We crept to one of the back windows, only to find it so dirty that we couldn’t see through it.

  “Damn,” I muttered. “We gotta go in, Bone. We need to get her out of there.”

  Bone sighed and reached to unholster her gun. I pulled mine out as well. Guns held high and ready, we moved around the back side of the barn and up the side. We passed a pale blue pickup, an older Ford model. I peered into the back and saw sawn boards piled haphazardly there, boards similar to the ones we’d found down at Ruddy Bayou. This was the same guy who had attacked her before.

  We crept along slowly. The voices inside had faded, and so we were extra careful not to make any noise to alert Taylor to our presence. A shuffling sound came from inside, as though someone were climbing steps. Or maybe a ladder into the loft.

  “I think he’s up top,” I whispered to Bone. She looked up, and I followed suit, not wanting someone to get the jump on us from above. The second-story doors were shut and latched as far as I could see. We moved on, over to the front door. I studied them. They were large, wide wooden plank doors, very old, and I knew the hinges would make a god-awful racket if I tried to open them all the way. Luckily the doors were parted and maybe, just maybe, if we were lucky, we could squeeze through and surprise him. I backed off to think it through. Would we be lucky?

  Bone must have sensed my idea, because she nodded and started moving toward the opening. She slid through effortlessly, but I balked, knowing I would never fit without widening the opening. Bone nudged the door gently, and it silently moved a good three inches. Yes, we were lucky. I hitched my way through. Inside, there was nothing unusual, just a long hallway surrounded by open stalls on either side. The structure looked as though it hadn’t been used in a while, and the smell of kerosene and old metal machinery was strong. We stood just inside the door, listening keenly for any sound. And then we heard it, a low musical humming. In a man’s voice. The song was a familiar country one that I couldn’t remember the name of, and I gripped my gun more tightly as a form began descending the ladder from the loft.

  We remained dead still as the man stepped onto the wood planking of the barn floor. He hitched his jeans farther up his slim waist, and then he looked up and saw us.

  “Hello, Rainerd. Your sister is looking for you,” I said with steely calm.

  His eyes grew huge in his long, thin face. “What did you tell her?” he asked. “Where is she?”

  I shook my head. “Where’s the little girl?”

  He hung his head. There was a long silence.

  Just as I was going to demand he tell me the whereabouts of Kissy, he began speaking. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her. I just want him to sell this place and take her to Nashville.”

  “Take who to Nashville? Kissy?” I was trying to make sense of his words.

  “Rina.” He lifted his head. “She’s a helluva singer. And she plays guitar. Since we was little kids, she’s always had this dream of going to Nashville and being discovered. I believe that. I know she would…if she could just get there.”

  “What’s holding her back, Rainerd?” Bone asked. She was in the shadows behind me, gun still aimed on him.

  He shot her an angry glance before lowering his head again. “Me, I guess. But that’s why I’m trying to fix things for her. To pay her back for looking after me all those years I was in jail and in rehab. She deserves to have a good life. If John Clyde would agree to move off the land here, to sell it, then they’d have enough to live on while she was taking her demo around to all the studios. I know Taylor wants it and John Clyde said himself that farming the land wasn’t a joy anymore because of that fake sister of his. He said they weren’t family, weren’t real, you know, like Rina and me are real.”

  “This idea will never work, Rainerd,” I said calmly, reasonably. “John Clyde loves this farm. And he would never give it up and move away, and, call me crazy, but I think your sister is okay with that.”

  “Maybe your sister doesn’t even have that dream anymore. You know we all change as we get older.” Bone told him.

  “No!” He exclaimed loudly. “She needs to be a star. She deserves it. When I think of what she has given up…our mother was an alcoholic, a mean bitch, and when her liver started to go, Rina gave up on that dream, even though she had a chance, because she knew Mama needed her. And then when Mama died…”

  “Then she had to take care of you,” Bone added.

  “Yes. So you see why I gotta give her this chance. She loves him, but I don’t want her to give up again. And I’m gonna make sure she don’t.” His lip protruded like that of a petulant child. Indeed, that’s what he seemed like to me, a young man with arrested development. He certainly did not seem to understand how wrong his actions were. And how much was at stake.

  “Did you talk any of this over with Rina, Rainerd? Does she know what you are doing?” Bone said.

  “No.” His head snapped up. “And I don’t want her to know.”

  “Too late,” I muttered. “Now, where is the child?”

  His demeanor changed in a heartbeat. “What did you tell her, you bitch?” He started moving toward me.

  “Stop or I will take you down,” I said firmly, readying my pistol.

  He stopped in his tracks and stared me down.

  “You’ll have to tie him, Bone,” I said. “We don’t have cuffs.”

  “No problem,” Bone replied. She holstered her gun and searched until she found an old horse cinch. “This should do,” she said. She walked toward him, straightening and smoothing the leather strap in her hands. She began speaking as she approached him.

  “Rainerd Beaudreaux, you are under arrest for the willful abduction of a child, holding her against her will, and for several counts of malicious destruction of property. You are also charged with bearing false witness against John Clyde Price and conspiring to destroy his life and livelihood. Please be advised that you have the right to remain silent and that anything you do say will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with an attorney and to have that attorney present during any questioning, and if you need an attorney, one will be provided at no cost to you. Do you understand these rights as I have told them to you?”

  Just as she reached for him, his right hand shot out, there was a whistling noise and I felt a burning pain in my upper thigh. I looked down and saw a long metal blade protruding from my leg. My jeans began soaking up blood. I heard a scuffling sound and looked up. Rainerd ha
d one arm wrapped around Bone’s neck and was trying to get her gun. She was a smart girl and kept arcing her butt up toward him so he had no easy access to her back waistband. Not while he was holding her anyway. I steadied my gun and tried to get a shot at Rainerd around Bone.

  She realized what I was trying to do, so with a quick nod, she dropped like a stone. Caught unawares, Rainerd couldn’t catch her in time. I aimed in a split second and shot, the bullet catching him high in his right shoulder and spinning him around. Within seconds, he had disappeared into one of the stalls, but Bone was right on his heels.

  I limped over, hissing at the jarring in my thigh as the knife moved. Bone had tackled him, and they were grappling in the cramped confines of what was essentially a small wooden box. He was trying to get her gun again, and so was she. His blood was everywhere, but she was holding her own against him. I tried to get another shot, but it was impossible; hay and blood were obscuring everything.

  I backed off, holstered my gun and, reaching down, gingerly examined my leg. The knife had penetrated on the far outside, so I felt confident no artery had been compromised. There was an awful lot of blood, but that could be due to my racing heart. Bracing myself and gritting my teeth, I jerked the knife from my muscle. Using the bloody knife to start the rip, I tore off the bottom hem of my T-shirt and tied it tight around the wound. It hurt at first, then felt a little better. Certainly more secure.

  “Bring him out here, I can’t get him,” I called over the noise of their scuffling and grunting. I stepped into the stall and tried to get a grip on him. It took about half a minute, but we were able to pull him out of the stall and into the walkway. He and Bone were both panting, beaten and bruised, and covered in bloody hay. Rainerd growled and slipped from our grip, shoving me into the edge of the opposite stall. I felt a crack as my back popped and I fell forward. Bone tried to trip him as he ran away, but though he stumbled, he didn’t fall.

  Suddenly I heard a faint cry, and I realized Kissy was up in the loft. “Let him go,” I gasped. “Let’s get Kissy and get the hell out of here. The cops will get him.”