Widow Town

by Joe Hart

  Darrin let go of his brother and stood to his full height, teeth gritted, eyes aflame.

  “You sonofabitch,” he said, stooping over Ruthers as he drew out the deseminator again. He was about to thrust it into the deputy’s chest when he noticed the glaze coating the prone man’s eyes.

  “Hey Darrin, how many cans of gas should I bring in?” Adam said, stepping into the room. He stopped, taking in the scene before him. “What happened to Ryan?”

  Darrin’s breath came and went in labored puffs. He wound up a kick and delivered it to Ruthers’s side. He kicked the body again and again, grunting deep in his chest each time. Finally he stood still, breathing hard through his nose.

  “What’re we going to do?” Adam asked, still staring at the knife-handle protruding from Ryan’s eye.

  Darrin kept his gaze on the deputy’s slack face for a long time before he put the deseminator back in his pocket.

  “Bring in the gas, Adam. All of it.”

  Chapter 35

  Gray stopped the cruiser behind Mitchel’s shining SUV and climbed out.

  The sun was a disc of ash on the horizon, a negative of what it would become later in the day. The early morning hung muggy and thick, cloistering as he made his way up the drive toward the smoking ruins of the two-story brick house.

  The roof was gone, wilted inward in a spine-broken way, small flames chuckling amongst the tiles. The windows were black holes with laughing shadows from the fire inside. A fire unit idled a dozen yards away from the house, its personnel doing final checks of the scene, one automated hose attached to a mobile crane extinguishing the sputtering embers. Mitchel leaned against the hood of a deputy’s car speaking with one of his men, his round form shaking with laughter at a joke Gray had just missed.

  “Good morning, Mitchel,” he said, stopping a dozen paces from the building’s husk.

  “What are you doing here?” Mitchel said, standing up.

  “I’m being courteous, let’s play nice, shall we?”

  “The county line’s two miles in that direction,” Mitchel said, pointing the way Gray had come. “I’d suggest you check your boundaries when you get back to your office.”

  “Is Siri okay?”

  Mitchel sighed. “Are you deaf, Mac? Do you want me to have you removed, is that it?”

  “I’m merely checking on a friend, Mitchel. Courteous, remember?”

  “We’re not sure at this time.”

  “Not sure if she’s a friend of mine or if she’s okay?”

  “Fuck you, Mac.”

  “So where is she?”

  “We don’t know. Her vehicle is gone.”

  Gray turned his head to look at the other sheriff.

  “She’s missing?”

  “No, she’s not here, there’s a difference. You leave your house from time to time, right Mac? She’s just gone somewhere, I’m sure. It is the weekend, people travel, it’s in their nature.”

  “What started the fire?”

  “It began in the kitchen near the stove, other than that the crew hasn’t been able to determine anything else.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the fire was extremely hot. It burned the center of the house all the way out as you can see. We’re just lucky it was one of the older homes in the area and made of brick, it kept the fire somewhat contained. That and the neighbors called it in shortly after it was started.”

  “Have you questioned them yet?”

  “About?”

  “About their feelings on this year’s election. About the fire, Mitchel, what else.”

  “I just told you they called it in. They saw flames in the early morning hours and alerted the department.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “So where’s the forensic team?”

  “Why in hell would we need a forensic team, Mac?” Mitchel took a step forward, close enough for Gray to smell sweat and not enough bad cologne to cover it up. “This isn’t a crime scene.”

  “The homeowner is missing, her house is gutted, and you don’t think that’s strange?”

  “I’ll thank you to find your way back to your cruiser, Mac,” Mitchel said, spinning on his heel. “Or I can have one of my men escort you if you’ve forgotten the way.”

  “I suppose you have plenty of manpower since you hire out rent-a-cops whenever you can.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know damn well what I mean. You said you’d have a man on Miles’s door round the clock.”

  “Baron died of natural causes. Are you losing it, Mac?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Get off this property, now.”

  “Mitchel, was there a defining moment when you knew for sure you were a full-blown asshole?”

  Enson paused in mid-step but shook his head and kept going, waving his hand at a deputy who was beginning to make his way toward Gray.

  Gray studied the house again. The smoke drifted in pale wreaths toward the lightening sky, ghosts leaving a carcass. He inhaled and spit once on the ground before walking back to his car.

  ~

  “Mary Jo, has Joseph called back yet?”

  The intercom was quiet for a beat and then the dispatcher’s voice drifted out of its speaker.

  “No, Sheriff, he hasn’t. It is his day off, you know.”

  “I do. When I went past his home this morning his truck wasn’t there and he’s yet to answer his phone. Uncharacteristic of our Joseph.”

  “I suppose it is. Maybe he went for a drive.”

  “Maybe.”

  “He had a date with Siri last night, didn’t he?”

  “I believe so.”

  “And that’s why you’re concerned.”

  “I’m like a book to you, Mary Jo.”

  “There were no bodies in the house.”

  “No there weren’t.”

  “You think it’s still going on, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.” Gray flicked the pad of his computer and watched the pointer fly across the screen. “Anything on the schedule this morning?”

  “No, but the reports for the landowner history you asked for came back just now.”

  “And?”

  “Before the current owner, Mister, um, Oyster, purchased it there was only one other listed. A Mister Clarence Drucker who is now deceased. Before that it was state land used for commercial pesticide testing.”

  Gray rubbed his temples and closed his eyes.

  “When did Drucker die?”

  “December seventeenth, 2075.”

  “Forty years ago.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Thank you, Mary Jo.”

  “You’re welcome. And Sheriff?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sure Joseph is fine.”

  The intercom clicked off and he stared at the wall, the empty chair on the other side of the desk. His cell phone buzzed against his hip and he dug for it, studied the number for a moment before answering.

  “Good morning.”

  “Hi,” Lynn said.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Good until you left, then not so good.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, it was just—”

  “Being in the house?”

  “Yeah.”

  Gray stood from the desk and shut the door to the office.

  “Last night,” he started, then stopped.

  “Let’s not talk about it,” Lynn said.

  “Why? Because it’ll cheapen it or you want to forget it?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Well when you figure it out, let me know.”

  Lynn fell quiet for a long time. He could hear some of the background music she played in the store tinkling away.

  “I turned on the water pump for the stream, hope you don’t mind,” she said finally.

  “Not at all. I was going to do it today.”
<
br />   “I couldn’t bear to see it so dry.”

  “It’s supposed to rain in a few days.”

  “So they say.”

  “Yeah. Lynn, can we—”

  “Just leave it alone, Mac. It was what it was.”

  “I’d like to see you.”

  “I need some space, will you give it to me?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  He paused, licking his lips that were dry, so dry.

  “I never stopped—”

  “I have to go, Mac,” she said. “I have customers.”

  “All right.”

  “Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye,” he said, but she’d already hung up.

  He was still holding the phone, scrutinizing it, when a knock came from the door and Mary Jo stepped into the room.

  “Sheriff, a call just came in from Vincent Barder. He says his son, Ryan, is missing. He wondered if you’d stop out as soon as you could.”

  “I’ll go presently,” Gray said, adjusting his hat. “Anyone respond as far as getting our air fixed?”

  “Not yet,” Mary Jo said, making her way back down the hall.

  “It is a Godforsaken oven in here, Mary Jo. How are you not sweating?”

  “Women don’t sweat, Sheriff, they glow,” she said over her shoulder.

  Gray shook his head and turned to the right, stepping out the back door to where his cruiser was parked. The concrete baked and steel ticked under the fist of sun hanging in the mocking blue sky. He was almost to the door of the cruiser when Mark Sheldon rounded the corner of the building. The DA’s shoulders were thrown back and he squinted against the glare. They narrowed further as he spotted Gray by the car.

  “Hold up, Sheriff.”

  “I’m on a call, Mark, I need to get going.”

  “This will only take a minute.”

  “It never takes a minute with you Mark.”

  The other man stopped a short distance away and glared at him.

  “You didn’t take my advice.”

  “I didn’t know you gave me any.”

  “Mitchel called me this morning and said you were out of jurisdiction, trying to undermine his authority.”

  “Now I’m just a commoner, Mark, and those were a lot of big words.”

  “Quit fucking around, Gray. You and I both know why you went out there.”

  “I heard about the fire at Siri’s and wanted to make sure she was okay.”

  “You wanted to keep your weird little fantasy going by making problems where there aren’t any.”

  Gray took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

  “I want to find the truth, whether it’s comforting or not.”

  “The truth is you’re delusional and not fit to hold office.”

  “You can tell that to the people who elected me,” Gray said, turning away.

  “I intend to,” Mark said, following him to the car.

  “Good.”

  “Oh, and I don’t know what ideas you have concerning Lynn, but forget them. She’s moved on.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  “She told me herself the night of the celebration.” The DA paused as he placed one hand against the cruiser’s hood. “Right after I fucked her.”

  Gray hit him in the mouth just as he began to say something else, his fist cutting off the words before they were fully formed.

  Mark fell to his ass and rolled onto his back, his polished shoes flying up in the air. Gray caught himself stepping over the fallen man to deliver another blow, and stopped. He moved back, passing a hand over his throbbing knuckles. The DA’s lips were both split in their centers, blood painting his chin in a crimson goatee. Mark looked up at him, cobwebs of pain and shock covering his face.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have a call to go to. And if you get a chance, send someone over here to fix our fucking air conditioning,” Gray said before climbing into the cruiser. He backed out of the parking space and sped away, throwing a last glance at the fallen man who was trying unsuccessfully to sit up.

  Chapter 36

  “Would you like something to drink, Sheriff? Coffee, iced tea?”

  Dr. Barder stood by his refrigerator, scanning its shelves as if it had something to hide.

  “A cup of coffee would be great, thanks,” Gray said, settling into a chair near the kitchen table. While Barder made the coffee Gray studied the rest of the house, his eyes traveling over each surface, every object. When the doctor set the cup down in front of him, he smiled and brought it to his lips, blowing the steam away.

  “I know I really shouldn’t be this worried, but I am,” Barder said, interlacing and then pulling his fingers apart over and over. “He’s seventeen and active, I’m guessing he’s at a friend’s house but I’ve already called everyone I can think of.”

  “When did you last see him?”

  “Last night. I worked a shift at the hospital until around eight and then came home. All the boys were here. We had a quick bite to eat and then watched TV for an hour or so. I was beat so I went to bed shortly after that. I took the next three days off since we were planning on going camping. When we got up this morning, Ryan wasn’t here.”

  “And his vehicle is gone, I’m assuming?” Gray asked, sipping his coffee.

  The doctor nodded. “Yes. Adam and Darrin said they all went to bed around eleven and didn’t hear him leave.”

  “Does he have a girlfriend?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “How has he seemed to you lately?”

  Barder squinted. “Seemed?”

  “Overall. Disturbed, troubled, quiet, depressed?”

  “Well, I guess he has been pretty quiet the last few weeks. But I spoke to him and he said he was having trouble sleeping.”

  “Anything in particular that could’ve been bothering him?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s a gentle boy, kind and thoughtful. His birthday is coming up and he usually recedes a little from everyone around then.”

  “Because of how your wife passed away?”

  “Yes. I get the feeling that he still feels it’s his fault, even though I’ve assured him there was nothing that could’ve been done.” Barder swallowed once. “I was the one that delivered him and tried to save her, but there wasn’t—” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Does he have any places that he likes to go to think? I met him down in your hollow and saw him sitting on a park bench near the town pond.”

  “Not that I know of other than the two spots you just mentioned. I used to take him fishing in both places.” The doctor looked out of the window at the yard. “I suppose that’s why he goes back there. We were going to do some fishing today.”

  Gray reached out and squeezed the other man’s arm.

  “I can’t file a missing person on him until twenty-four hours have passed, but I’m sure he’ll turn up soon, most likely of his own accord. Now, would you mind if I spoke to your other boys?”

  Barder met his gaze again. His face was slack and he blinked several times before answering.

  “Of course, let me get them.”

  He stood and moved to the stairway leading out of the kitchen and called up it. A moment later footsteps padded overhead and then traipsed down the stairs. Darrin appeared first followed by his hulking younger brother. Gray took in the large Band-Aid below Adam’s eye as well as the wrappings on his fingers.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” Gray said, standing and shaking both their hands.

  “Morning, Sheriff,” Darrin said.

  “I’m going to go out to the garage and get some things packed just in case Ryan comes back. Then we’ll be ready to go.” Barder said, moving toward the door. “Thank you for coming, Sheriff.”

  “It’s no problem at all.”

  The doctor left the room and Gray waited until he heard the door close in the entry before looking at the two boys seated a
cross from him. He shifted his gaze between Darrin and Adam until the younger of the two finally looked down at the floor.

  “So tell me about last night,” Gray said.

  Darrin stared at him from across the table and then sat back in his chair.

  “Dad got home a little after eight. Ryan, Adam, and I were all here. We had dinner and watched some TV. Dad went to bed and we stayed up a little later then went to bed too. This morning Ryan was gone.”

  “That right, Adam?”

  Adam raised his eyes to meet Gray’s and then dropped them again, nodding slowly.

  “That looks painful,” Gray said, motioning to Adam’s face. “What happened?”

  “We were wrestling, goofing around, and I scratched him on accident,” Darrin said. Adam nodded again.

  “And your hand?”

  “Shut it in a barn door,” Adam said, looking past Gray’s shoulder toward the far wall.

  “Wow, you boys sure are accident prone around here. I mean, just a few days ago Ryan told me he fell and hit his face on a kitchen cabinet. You wouldn’t know which one he hit, would you, Darrin?”

  “Can’t say that I do, sir.”

  “Hmm. Well, I suppose injuries do happen on a farm and whatnot. I’m guessing you boys stay busy working around here.”

  “We sure do, it’s a full-time job,” Darrin said.

  “Is that your plans, to take over the farming?”

  “I guess I don’t see what this has to do with Ryan going missing,” Darrin said, sitting forward. He placed his hand on the table near a butter knife that was resting on a plate. Gray shifted his eyes down to it and back up.

  “Oh, just trying to paint a picture here. You must be what, twenty-three?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “Gotcha. About the same age as my deputy, Joseph Ruthers. You wouldn’t have known him in school, would you?”

  “Didn’t know him but we were in the same grade together.”

  Gray smiled and adjusted his hat.

  “Yeah, he’s a good man. Reliable. On time. Always can count on him.”

  Gray let the silence hang in the kitchen and glanced at Darrin’s fingers, a half inch closer now to the knife.

  “Anyway, you boys don’t have any ideas on where your brother may have went?”