Pecked to Death

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  She told him the story and for some reason left out the part about her father with him, too. Maybe she would tell him later, but for now it was too surreal and unbelievable.

  “Why don’t you shower and come over. You can hang out with me while I unpack,” he suggested.

  “I have to go to work,” she reminded him.

  He stopped short in the street. “What? Sadie, you can’t go to work today. You just watched a man die. You do not need to go to that stupid job.”

  “Yes, I do need to go to that stupid job,” she argued, shrugging away from his arm. “I don’t have the luxury of not working right now; I have no money. If I’m ever going to get away from here…” her voice broke and she looked away and took a breath. “I’m going to work, and then I’m going to go to Shady Acres.”

  “That new nursing home on the edge of town? Why?”

  “Because Doc Jones said something about it before he died.”

  “He said something to you? Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

  She shrugged, still looking away. He knew her too well, though.

  “Sadie, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I need to shower.” She took a step, stopped, and turned back. “Will you come?”

  “To your shower?” he asked.

  “To the house. Will you wait while I shower?”

  Her eyes were wide and shadowed. She looked the same way she had when they were ten and sneaked into a horror movie when they were supposed to be watching a cartoon. They had a sleepover that night, and Sadie had left the guest bedroom and crept to Luke’s room. She had stood in his doorway with the same expression, a mixture of vulnerability and fear. Then, like now, he hadn’t been able to resist her plea. He had moved aside and let her sleep in his bed that night. The next morning, they both got in trouble. It was the last sleepover they ever had. He couldn’t help but wonder what trouble he would get into if he gave into her now, but he went anyway, and he put his arm back on her shoulders. This time, she didn’t shrug away.

  Chapter 18

  Luke lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling while Sadie took a shower. He had slept in her bed before; it had felt much larger then, and he didn’t remember it smelling so good. It was odd the difference that hormones and puberty could make in a person. Twenty years ago, he and Sadie had bathed together in a handy system their parents worked out because the two kids were inseparable. Whoever had the kids on bath night washed them both. He and Sadie had some notoriously fun times in the bath together, playing with markers at her house and plastic boats at his. Each of their mothers had sat on their respective commodes and had time to read an entire magazine while the two kids played.

  Now Sadie was in the shower, and Luke wasn’t invited. With good reason, too. If he joined her now, the last thing on his mind would be washable markers or boats. A few minutes later, she entered the room, a towel wrapped around her midsection. Luke squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hand over them in case the temptation to peek was too much.

  “Sadie!”

  “I forgot my clothes. Pardon me for not being in the frame of mind to remember practicalities right now.” Her voice grew muffled as she stepped into the closet and closed the door. She emerged a few minutes later in another pair of the tiny shorts, though this time she was wearing a t-shirt. She came over to the bed and nudged him aside as she crawled in.

  “I wish I could go back to sleep and start the day over.” She sounded more than tired; she sounded weary. Her springy mop of curls flopped over her face leaving one blue eye and a portion of her perfect nose exposed. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Whenever she was trying to be fancy or formal, she straightened her hair. Straight, it fell almost to her shoulders. When it was curly, it shrunk up to her chin and sprung out from all over her head. It was a no-brainer that he preferred it natural.

  “So go back to bed. You don’t have to go to work. I’ll give you some money.”

  “You barely have any more money than I do. We’re almost thirty; shouldn’t we have more by now?”

  He pushed her hair off her face. It sprang back again. “I thought you would have married wealthy by now.”

  “I already tried that and it didn’t work. Next time I’m marrying for love. It would be great if the guy I love also happens to be rich.” She smiled and rested her palm on his chest over his heart. “You’re reassuringly alive today.”

  “I try to be most days.”

  He was handsome, she thought, and she hadn’t seen it coming. When they were kids, his features had been too big for his scrawny frame and face. Now that he had grown and filled out, his prominent nose, brow, and lips seemed right at home with the rest of him. His eyes were a plain shade of brown, but brimming with kindness. Sadie hadn’t realized how important that was until she looked into eyes that were cold and mean. All of a sudden, she was struck with what might have been if she had held strong and done what she wanted instead of what her mother wanted her to do. She and Luke might have had a chance. She could have married the boy next door and been everything her mother warned her not to be. Maybe they would have a baby by now, a little girl with his brown eyes and her blond curls. Sadie wasn’t one given to self-recrimination or introspection for a reason because now she felt sad, sadder than she had been for a long, long time.

  “You’re thinking deep thoughts,” Luke said. “What about?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said.

  “Try me.”

  “I don’t want to blow your mind.”

  “Too late,” Luke said, and he wasn’t kidding. If someone had told him a couple of weeks ago that he would be in a twin bed snugged up to Sadie Cooper and enjoying himself, then he would have laughed until he cried. And yet here he was. They had fallen back into old patterns as if there had been no break between them, and being with her didn’t feel odd; it felt natural, as if all was right with the world again. That thought, more than anything else, scared him. Sadie wasn’t part of his world. He told himself as much even as he reached out again to touch her hair. It was like silk, and he was mesmerized.

  “Why do you straighten this?” he asked.

  “Because I got tired of being called Shirley Temple,” she said. “It’s hard enough to be taken seriously as a woman, let alone a blond woman, let alone a blond woman with corkscrew curls.”

  “But they’re so cute, Sade,” he argued. He wound a curl around his finger and let it spring free. Growing up, she always wore her hair long, too long for more than waves. Not until after she left home did she get it cut short enough for the curls to make an appearance.

  “You want to know what’s cute? This is cute, this stubble thing you have going on. Very trendy.” She touched her fingertips to his cheek and they shared a smile. Then the front door banged open, and Sadie jumped out of bed in one fluid movement. “I have to go,” she announced even as she pulled on her chicken suit and began hopping toward the door.

  “I’ll take you,” Luke volunteered. “Then I’ll pick you up and we can go to the Shady Acres place together.” Not only was he curious about what she might find out, he was also anxious to help her on her way. The sooner she moved on, the sooner everything could return to normal.

  “Sounds good.” She sounded distracted, almost afraid as they made their way through the living room and past Gideon. In fact, she didn’t even say hello.

  “Hey, Gideon,” Luke said.

  “What were you two doing in there?” Gideon asked.

  Luke expected Sadie to come back with some smart answer like usual, but she didn’t. She didn’t say a word. “Talking,” Luke said. “I’m taking Sadie to work.”

  “You should use air quotes when you call that job work,” Gideon said as he sorted the mail. Again Luke expected Sadie to have a comeback for that. Luke didn’t ever remember her backing down from a fight with her dad. But she didn’t say a word. Instead, she walked outside. Gideon looked up, watched her go, and turne
d questioning eyes on Luke.

  “I have no idea,” Luke said. He followed her outside. She was already waiting in his car. “What was that about?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Back there with Gideon. You didn’t say a word.”

  “Sometimes it’s better not to engage.”

  “Since when do you not engage?”

  “I’ve grown.”

  “Since yesterday?” he asked.

  “Yes, since yesterday,” she said. Specifically since she heard a dying man accuse her father of murder. She couldn’t talk to Gideon until she sorted through the doctor’s statement. “Luke, do you think Gideon has ever killed anyone?”

  “Yeah, a couple of people.”

  She shot him a sharp look.

  “What? Everyone knows. It was in the paper when he was appointed police chief so it’s a matter of public record. He shot and killed two people over the course of his career, but was cleared of any wrongdoing in both cases because they had it coming. Don’t tell me you think he’s having some kind of breakdown over it because that doesn’t sound like him.”

  “That’s so weird. I knew that he killed those two people, but I never really thought about it before. I mean, my dad killed two men. How many people can say that? Do you think after you kill someone, you become desensitized to it?”

  “Not if you’re moral and value human life. Sociopaths could probably kill a million people and not think a thing of it. People with a tender conscious might never get over such a thing, even if it was an accident. I’d say Gideon falls somewhere in the middle.” He glanced at her. “What’s this about, Sadie?”

  “Doesn’t every girl wonder if her father is secretly a murderer?”

  He thought she was joking; she wasn’t. Shouldn’t she unequivocally know that Gideon didn’t kill the doctor, despite what the dying man had said to the contrary? She wanted to talk it over with Luke, but the drive to the chicken place was short and they were already there.

  “I’ll pick you up at four, okay?” he said as he craned his neck to look at her through the window.

  “Four,” she said. She closed the door and ran around to the driver’s side before he could drive away. “Thanks,” she said, then she popped her head through the window and kissed his cheek.

  “I’m going to need therapy when you go away,” he said.

  “That makes two of us, but it shouldn’t be long now. I think things are coming to a head.” She placed the battered chicken head on top of her costume. “No pun intended.”

  “Call if more deranged reporters show up,” he said.

  She waved and watched him drive away, thinking. Had it been a reporter yesterday who chased and shot at them? The car had kept a safe distance, too far for her to get the make or model. All she knew was that it was black. Her father’s car was black. But Gideon was the one who showed up and rescued them from his deer stand. On the other hand, the timing of his opportune arrival had been suspicious. And he had been carrying his gun. But Gideon always carried his gun when he went into the woods. That wasn’t out of character for someone who was paranoid and checking a disabled vehicle. Then again, it wasn’t out of character for whoever had chased them into the woods in the first place. Sadie had caught sight of dark clothing and a rifle. She couldn’t tell if it had been her dad clambering down the ravine after them, and she didn’t know enough about guns to tell if the one she saw was his.

  If it had been her dad, though, he would have known about the deer stand. Why wouldn’t he have gone there straight away? Unless maybe he had second thoughts about killing them. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to kill Luke at all; maybe he only wanted to kill Sadie. But why? What had she discovered that might make her a target? Or was she simply getting close to discovering something that he didn’t want her to know?

  When she realized that she was actually contemplating the fact that her father had tried to kill her, she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. They’d had their differences, but she had no idea the wedge between them was deep enough for her to think he might be capable of murdering her. Unless it hadn’t been him yesterday. But if it hadn’t been him, then who was it? And who had killed Doctor Jones? If her father killed Doctor Jones, had someone else shot at her and Luke? Were there two people to worry about or the same person? And if it was the same person, was it Gideon?

  Round and round her thoughts went in a confusing tangle that brought her no closer to finding the truth. There was a part of her that couldn’t believe she thought her father might be a killer, and there was another part of her that felt almost vindicated by the revelation. If it was true, then the world would finally know and understand that the sort of man who ruthlessly dissembled his daughter’s psyche was the same man who was capable of murder. Then she thought she was being a bit self-serving and melodramatic. Just because she and Gideon had a hard time getting along didn’t mean he was actually capable of killing someone. Did it?

  Thankfully for Sadie, she had long ago honed the ability to smile through even the worst emotional turmoil. The never-ending line of cars didn’t seem to notice that her cluck was less cheery than usual and, best of all, there were no more reporters.

  A few people who stopped wanted to talk about her discovery of Doc Jones. Sadie didn’t try to hide how upset she was over the discovery, and she was rewarded with larger tips than usual. Several people shoved fives or tens into her hand as they shook their heads in sympathy over her ordeal. If not for the fact that she was teetering on the edge of an emotional meltdown of epic proportions, it would have been a good day. By the end of the day, she had earned enough to pay her car insurance for the month, fill up her car with gasoline, and have enough left over for food. As soon as she figured out whether or not her father was a killer, she was free to go.

  Go where? She had no idea and no emotional energy left to think about it. All she knew was that as soon as she figured out what was going on here, she was free to disappear.

  Luke arrived on the dot of four. Sadie dashed to the car happy to see him on a number of levels, most of which she didn’t want to examine too closely.

  “Why are you getting in the backseat?” he asked.

  “Because I don’t want to show up at Shady Acres dressed like a giant chicken.”

  The car swerved as he jerked backwards to pin her with a look. “You’re going to change in the car?”

  “Not if we die first. Can you turn back around?”

  He turned around and faced front, shaking his head. “Why are you always trying to be naked around me?”

  “Yes, Luke, you’ve caught on to my clever, clever plan. What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

  “That was then, and this is definitely now.” He flicked the rearview mirror up so it reflected the roof of the car.

  “Prude says what?” she muttered.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “You’re forever fifteen,” he said.

  “Fifteen was a good age,” she said as she climbed over the seat, fully dressed.

  “Fifteen was a horrible age, and how did you change so fast?”

  She was wearing a conservative black dress. “Pageants. The quick change is lesson number two.”

  “What’s lesson number one?”

  “Getting involved with a judge isn’t worth the extra points.”

  The car swerved as he turned to look at her again, mouth ajar. “You didn’t.”

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He took a breath, preparing for a lecture, when he realized that she was teasing him. “You didn’t,” he said with confidence this time.

  She reached across the console and squeezed his knee. “Ten points for Lucas.”

  “You shouldn’t joke about stuff like that. People who don’t know you might think you’re as calculating and shallow as you seem.”

  “Some people who know me think that,” she said.

  “Some people re
serve the right to revise their opinions,” he said.

  She squeezed his knee again which is when they both realized her hand was still on him. She removed it and sat back. “I was talking about Gideon, actually.”

  “In his defense, Gideon doesn’t like anyone,” Luke said.

  “He likes your parents.”

  “Everyone likes my parents,” he said.

  “That’s because your parents are wonderful,” she said. They arrived at the nursing home and parked in the visitor’s lot. From the outside, the building looked like any brick institution. A sign that had once been white but was now faded to a dull tan proclaimed that they had reached Shady Acres, though there was no shade and no acreage. The place was built like a fortress around a small, depressing courtyard. A lone tree grew in the front yard, offering anemic shade to anyone who was fortunate to be within a one foot radius.