The Taste of Sorrow

by Joshua Erik Rossi

  “It’s possible but all we have are George’s fingerprints on the jar. That doesn’t mean he cut the hand off,” Joe said.

  “I’ll get the proof,” Shep said. “If I can find the saw George used to cut off Browning’s hand, maybe we’ll solve George’s murder in the process. Willard Browning probably wanted some revenge of his own.”

  Joe stood up. “Let’s go. We’re going to search those houses again.”

  “Both of them?” Shep asked.

  “Hell yes. I’ll search this whole town if I have to,” Joe said. “Now that we know what we’re looking for, it should be a hell of a lot easier.” He started toward the door. “Do you think Cody knows about any of this?”

  “I’m not sure,” Shep said. “When he saw the hand in the jar, he was freaked out by it. He wouldn’t come near it but I don’t know if he knew it was Browning’s. If he knew, he didn’t say anything to me.”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s something he’d want to tell you,” Joe said as they went out the door.

  “Wait,” Shep said. He stopped.

  “What is it?”

  “He knew the hand was there.”

  “What?” Joe asked.

  “When I went into the basement, I told him the stuff I found was harmless. It was just some BDSM equipment and whoever had it was probably having a good time and Cody asked me if I’d seen the jar on the shelf yet?”

  “We all knew it was there,” Joe said. “I saw it myself but I thought it was old.”

  “Is that what Cody thought?” Shep asked.

  “I don’t know,” Joe said. They left the police station and went over to the cruiser. He looked across the roof at Shep. “Cody was the one who told me it was there, too.”

  Shep’s eyes moistened and his throat tightened. “He may have been a witness.”

  They got into the car.

  “I hope to hell that boy didn’t see what his father done,” Joe said, starting the car. “The thing is, why in the hell would George keep the hand? Why not bury it or some fucking thing?”

  “I’ve seen this before, in the city,” Shep said, “It’s a trophy.”

  “A trophy?”

  “It’s George’s proof that he finally won, that he got his revenge on Willard Browning.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Joe said.

  “Yeah well, so is what Browning did to Cody,” Shep added. He glanced at Joe Flynn. The rugged man’s eyes were full of tears.

  They rode the rest of the way in silence.

  They pulled into Cody’s driveway, parked and got out of the police cruiser.

  Shep sensed that something wasn’t right. He didn’t know what exactly, but the feeling was there. He pulled his gun and stood beside the screen door.

  Joe gave him and odd look and lifted his arm to open the door and go inside, but then he heard it, Cody’s pitiful chant...

  “The man, the man, the man...”

  Shep’s dark eyes hardened.

  Willard Browning was in the house.

  Joe moved to the other side of the door and took his gun from its holster.

  Shep spun his body and kicked the door with his cowboy boot. The door swung wide open. Browning was standing over Cody who was sitting on the couch, rocking back and forth and moaning.

  Browning straightened upright and met Shep’s gaze. “It’s the King...” he said.

  Shep fired six times blasting a rapid fire of bullets into the man’s chest. Browning’s body quaked and fell backward onto the floor.

  “God damn it Shep!” Joe roared, “He didn’t have a weapon!”

  Shep went over to a gun cabinet, picked out a gun and took it over to where Browning lay. He put the gun into the man’s hand to collect the prints and then he let it go. “There. Now he has a weapon. Feel better?”

  “Not really,” Joe replied.

  Shep looked at Cody who was violently rocking back and forth on the couch. “Does he look like he’d be a competent witness in a trial?” he asked Joe.

  “No. No, he doesn’t.” Joe turned and closed the front door.

  “Fuck it then. Case closed.” Shep put his gun away and crouched down in front of Cody. “Hey, look at me. Look at me Cody, please...”

  Cody stopped rocking back and forth.

  Shep tenderly took his hands and moved them away from his head. “You’re all right. He didn’t touch you, did he?”

  “No,” Cody whispered. He looked into Shep’s eyes and then he turned his head, looking at Willard Browning’s lifeless body on the floor. “You...killed him.”

  “Yeah, I did.” Shep closed his eyes as Cody’s arms went around his neck. He placed his hand on Cody’s back and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around him. “You’re okay now. Come with me. I’m going to get you out of this room.”

  “Are you sure he’s dead?”

  “Oh yeah,” Joe said, “he’s definitely dead.” He glanced at Shep. “I’ll call it in.”

  “It’s over,” Cody stated.

  “Yes it is,” Shep told him. Cody walked away from him and walked out through the kitchen door with the blanket around his shoulders. “Where are you going, Cody? Cody?” Shep followed him to the shed. “What are you doing?”

  Cody opened the shed door and went inside. He went to the back corner and moved a box. He stared at the bloody saw but he couldn’t make himself pick it up.

  “What have you got there?” Shep asked. He went over and looked into the old cardboard box. The blood was dried and some of it had flaked off. “What is that Cody? Talk to me.”

  “My dad...he...he cut the man’s hand off...”

  “Willard Browning’s hand?”

  “Yeah. He was mad and...”

  “Okay, okay, leave the saw there and come with me,” Shep said. He carefully guided Cody out of the shed and back into the kitchen. “Sit down.”

  Cody lowered his body down into the chair.

  “I want you to tell me what you remember,” Shep said.

  Cody’s hands went to his head but Shep appeared in front of him. He began to shake. “Dad did it. He cut Browning’s hand off...in the shed.”

  “Why?” Shep asked.

  “Because he hurt me...when I was a kid.”

  “Why didn’t your father tell your Uncle Joe? He’s a police officer and they’re brothers...”

  “He...he said...Browning would do time and...and he’d get out...” Cody stopped and looked up as his uncle came into the room.

  ELEVEN

  “If you knew who did it Cody, you should have told me,” Joe said, sadly.

  “Dad made me promise not to.”

  “Why? Why would he do a thing like that?”

  “He...he said cops don’t know what real justice is,” Cody said. “He...he made me promise...”

  “Six bullets. Six. Is that enough justice?” Joe growled. He looked at Shep. “I know why you did it, Shep. God damn it I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing if I’d been first through that door but now I have to take your badge and your gun. You’re on paid leave.”

  “It’s all right. I understand,” Shep said, going over to him. He gave the gun and his badge to Joe.

  Cody shivered and pulled the blanket closer to him. He sat still as Shep pulled out a chair and sat down with him at the table. “You...you want me to tell you everything, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “I...I don’t know if I can.”

  “Try. This is me, Cody. You can tell me anything,” Shep said, softly. “I want to help you. Let me.”

  “I...I was alone a lot when I was a kid. They left me in the house by myself,” Cody said. “Mom had to work and Dad...he was at the bar. Brock was at school. I didn’t go that day because I was sick,” Cody said, quietly. “I had a cold.” He drew in a breath, exhaled and shuddered.

  “You’re all right. Take your time,” Shep said.

  Cody nodded. “They...they can’t stop me from telling anyone now, can they?”

&
nbsp; “No they can’t,” Shep replied. “Did Willard Browning come here, to the house?”

  “Yeah, he said my mom wanted him to bring me one of those kid’s meals with a toy in it. I was hungry, so I took it and I...I let him in.” Cody lowered his chin.

  “Take your time,” Shep said.

  “He...he was nice...at first. I was always alone so...I was happy that he wanted to play games and stuff. He said he was supposed to take care of me while mom was gone. I didn’t know anything. I was just a kid...He...he gave me a bath even and...that’s when it started...” Cody closed his eyes. He was shaking uncontrollably and he couldn’t stop. “We were in the living room when he...and, and dad came home. He was drunk. They fought. It was a bad fight. The man pushed him and dad fell...the man, the man, the man came back to me and...”

  “That bastard!” Joe roared.

  Cody jumped at the loudness of his uncle’s voice. He rocked his body slowly back and forth.

  “Take it easy. Calm down. You’re safe now,” Shep said. “What happened after Browning left?”

  “Dad was on the floor but...he wasn’t...he wasn’t dead.”

  “You were both still in the living room and Browning was gone?” Joe asked.

  “Yes.”

  “They said you were found outside by the swing,” Shep said. “How did you get out there?”

  “Dad woke up and he put me out there.”

  “Why? What did he do that for?” Joe asked, angry and astounded.

  Cody looked into Shep’s eyes and his vision blurred. “He said he didn’t want people to think he was a fucking homo and that he’d done that to me so he put me outside. It was cold, so fucking cold but that...that’s all I remember.”

  Shep wiped his face with his hand and struggled to maintain his composure but he was losing it, fast.

  Cody’s cry was a silent painful cry as single tears slid down over his cheeks.

  “The man came back a few months ago but dad was here and he was sober,” Cody said. “It was the only time after mom died that I remember him being sober and he beat the shit out of Willard. I...I thought he was going to kill him but he dragged him over to the shed and I...I heard the man screaming...later, I found the saw and I...I hid it because Dad started drinking right after and he didn’t stop...He put the hand in that jar and he hid it up at Trudy’s place. I didn’t want anybody to arrest him but...that was...that was bad.”

  “You knew,” Shep said.

  “Yeah, I knew. I told everyone it was there. I can’t help it no one listened to me.”

  “You could try speaking plain English,” Joe growled. “You should have told me what happened, damn it!”

  “Don’t yell at him,” Shep warned, angrily. “None of this was his fault!”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Cody said. “They made me promise not to tell anyone and then Dad...he died and...”

  “It’s all right. We understand,” Shep said. “Did you tell me the truth about the day your dad was shot?”

  “Yeah! I was upstairs. I didn’t come down until...after I heard the gun fire...”

  “Okay, okay,” Shep placed his hand on Cody’s cheek. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “What if I’m not fine?” Cody asked, angrily. “What if I’m not?”

  “I want to be with you, Cody, and whatever problems you have, that’s all right. I care about you,” Shep said, “and I’m not going anywhere. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

  “You’re promising me an awful lot, you know that?”

  “And I intend to keep my promises,” Shep said. “Listen to me, I want you to go upstairs and grab a few things. Pack a bag. You’re going to stay with me at the ranch.”

  “Okay,” Cody said.

  Shep grasped his hand as he stood up. He blinked the tears away. “Did he hurt you today?”

  “No. He...he was angry. He thought I told someone and he said he was going to kill me.”

  “He threatened you? Did he have a gun?” Joe asked.

  “I...I don’t know.”

  “I’m going to go check that body for a weapon before the coroner gets here,” Joe said, leaving the room.

  Shep stood up. He wrapped his arms around Cody and held onto him. “Do you need help to get your stuff together?”

  “No. I can do it...I can,” Cody said. He walked through the living room but he stopped at the bottom of the steps watching his uncle as he leaned over Browning’s body.

  “I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch,” Joe moaned, pulling the gun from the inside of Willard’s coat. He turned his head to call for Shep Carson but he was already there, standing beside him. Joe struggled but he stood up. “I think this is the gun that was used to kill my brother.” He turned his face away and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Thank you Shep,” he said. “I could have lost them both.”

  Shep nodded and he knelt down to remove the gun he’d placed in Willard Browning’s hand. He wiped the prints off and put it back into the gun case. “Go upstairs Cody.”

  “He killed my Dad?” Cody rushed forward but Shep caught him in his arms. He broke down and cried, hard, sobbing against Shep’s chest.

  TWELVE

  “Stay in the truck and keep the doors locked,” Shep told Cody. “I’ll be right back.” He parked the truck in front of Hank’s Bar and he went inside. Marcie was washing glasses in the sink and watching a TV show. She was surprised to see Shep Carson. “Shep,” she said. Her eyes flitted around the room. He was angry and the place was empty.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

  “About what?”

  “Cody. You tell everyone in this town everything that happens but you couldn’t tell me what happened to him?”

  “It wasn’t my place to tell you anything.”

  “That’s a nice, convenient excuse!” he roared. “Were you there when it happened? You were his babysitter, weren’t you? Were you supposed to be watching him?”

  “That happened before I was his babysitter, Shep, and there are things that I’d rather not talk about concerning that family...”

  “Like how you were fucking his brother and his dad at the same time?”

  “I’m not proud of what I did back then, okay Shep? You weren’t here. You have no idea what I was going through...”

  “George Flynn was married! He was in a committed relationship and you knew it!”

  “Look Shep, I get that you’re angry about a lot of things...”

  “You have no idea,” he growled at her. “I think you know a lot more than you’ve been saying about George Flynn’s death.”

  “I did not kill him!”

  “I didn’t say you did,” Shep replied. “Did you talk to Willard Browning before George was killed? Did you meet with him a few months ago? Were you in on it?”

  Marcie picked up the remote control and shut the TV off. “You are not God, Shep Carson! What gives you the right to come in here and pass judgment on me? You don’t know how hard I’ve been praying every day for God to help Cody. I was praying that God would give him the strength to face his past and move on from it. I prayed,” Marcie said, “that he would send someone to help and protect him.”

  “You’re looking at the answer to your prayers, lady,” Shep stated, “and if I find out you had anything to do with killing George Flynn, I’ll be back for you.” He turned to walk out the door.

  Marcie glared at his back. He was such an arrogant asshole! “I did not pray for some freaky homo to come into this town!” Marcie yelled at him.

  “God works in mysterious ways, honey!” Shep called back to her as he pushed the door open to leave. It closed behind him.

  The sun was setting beyond the buildings of the town as Shep got into his truck. Cody was quiet. “Everything’s going to be okay now,” he said. He started the truck and put it in drive.

  Cody nodded.

  They left town and it was dark by the time they got to Shep’s place. The pups were howling in the barn so Shep stopped to collect them
before he went any further. The wolf pups were happy to see Cody and they climbed all over him. For the first time that day, Shep saw Cody smile.

  Shep parked the truck in front of the house.

  There was an old man sitting on his porch.

  “Who’s that?” Cody asked, looking at the old Indian man. “Geez, he looks like Geronimo or somebody. Is that a ghost?”

  Shep reached into the glove box and pulled out his gun. It was loaded. He jumped out of the truck and took dead aim. “Get the fuck off my porch! I don’t care if you’re a ghost or whatever the fuck you are! Get out of here! Now!”

  “You’re a warrior all right,” the man said. His dark eyes glinted.

  “Listen pal, I already killed one man today,” Shep said, holding the gun steady. “I am not afraid to send you back to your maker or wherever the hell you came from. Get-the-fuck-out-of-here-old-man!”

  The old Indian man looked up at him. “Is that any way to talk to your grandfather?” he asked. “Here. Take a look.” He took a photo from his flannel shirt pocket and handed it to Shep.

  Shep moved closer, clutching the gun. He wasn’t ready to stand down. He took the picture into his hand and he stared at it. By the glow of the truck headlights, he saw the woman in the photo. She had long black hair and she was smiling. It was the dancing woman from his memory.

  “That’s your mother, Jimmy. Her name’s Irene.”