by John Locke
“Good luck proving that. Aunt Lori was cremated.”
“You know what else I think?”
“What?”
“I think you hung Trudy’s mother and made it look like an accident. And I don’t think Scooter and Darrell know anything about that.”
“Is that Trudy’s theory?” she says.
I notice her eyelids are getting heavy. She’s got to be drunk enough to pass out. If I can just keep her talking long enough, she’ll drift off on her own, peacefully.
“Is that what Trudy thinks?” she says.
“No. It’s what I think.”
She closes her eyes for several seconds. Then opens them and says, “Anything else?”
“Yeah.”
“Go ahead, then. Spill it all.”
“I think somewhere along the line Darrell’s done some toenail painting and bud blooming of his own.”
She smiles. “I said it before. You’ve got a fine mind, Gideon. If true, there’d be no shame in it. Darrell and I aren’t related.”
“Except through marriage.”
“You’re quibbling.”
“Am I right?” I say. “About everything I said?”
“If I did all those things, would it help you admire me?”
“Possibly.”
“I wonder. Still, I doubt you’d admire someone foolish enough to admit to a crime.”
“There are no police here. Just us.”
“I think I’ll let your theories about me remain unanswered. But I would like to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“How can you possibly believe I hung Lucy?”
“It’s your father’s execution method of choice.”
“Maybe he hung her.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You think I did it hoping to please him? If so, why wouldn’t I tell him?”
“You couldn’t. You had no way of knowing how he’d react to his daughter hanging his wife. I think you hung her for a different reason.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
“I think you grew up hating her, and blamed her for taking Scooter out of your life.”
“I won’t deny that. But why would I hang her?”
“To experience what your father feels when he hangs someone. You thought it would help you feel connected to him.”
“I wonder if you’ll try to run these theories past the police.”
“You think I give a shit about any of those people? Your husband, your best friend, your Aunt Lori, your step-mother, Lucy?”
“I think you care about Trudy. And might want to share your feelings about how her mother died.”
“I’ll tell you the truth. I never had sex with Trudy. But we did kiss, and I felt her up over her clothes. That’s it, and that’s the truth. Yes, I was hoping for more. But Scooter came along and bashed me in the head, dragged me to a barn, and tried to hang me. The beam broke and brought half the roof down on top of us. I was uninjured, Scooter sustained a broken leg. End of story.”
“My Daddy’s leg is broken?”
“You didn’t know?”
The look on her face says she didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what?”
“He’s in the hospital in Starbucks. And hasn’t contacted you.”
“He’s probably still sedated.”
“Renee, if there’s one positive thing I can say for you, apart from your ability to kill, and your willingness to fuck total strangers, it’s that you’ve got a wonderful, nurturing spirit.”
“Thank you, Gideon.”
“It must be hard on you to realize your father doesn’t trust you to take care of him.”
“He’ll contact me when he gets out of the hospital,” she says. “He always does, and always will.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“We’ll nurse him back to health in no time! You’ll see.”
“We?”
“You and me.”
“The man tried to hang me. Why would I take care of him?”
“For one thing, you’re a doctor. For another, you took an oath. For another, it would help you clear up this silly misunderstanding.”
“What misunderstanding?”
“My father never tried to hang you.”
“I’ve got a rope burn says you’re wrong.”
“What you’ve got is an active imagination. And imagination’s a wonderful thing. It helps provide a context for our knowledge and experiences, and helps us make sense of the world around us.”
“Do you ever get tired of hearing your voice?”
She sighs. “I’ve tried, Gideon. I really have. But while I’ve tried to bring you joy, you’ve treated me with contempt, and scorn.”
“Does this mean you’re ready to end our partnership?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Good. Because I’d rather bathe with pacus than be in a relationship with you.”
“What are pacus?”
“Testicle-eating fish.”
“You’re just plain rude, aren’t you?”
“I am for a fact. And you know why I’m comfortable saying all this?”
“No.”
“Because you don’t have the guts to shoot me.”
“You honestly believe that?”
“Sort of,” I say. “I mean, I know you’re a cold-blooded murderer, and I’m certain you’d shoot me without batting an eye. But not here. Not now. There’s no way you could explain it to the police. And it would open the door to closer scrutiny of your other crimes.”
“So where does that put us?”
“I believe it allows me to walk out of here unscathed. Which is exactly what I plan to do.”
I stand.
She raises the gun, aims it at my chest, and says, “Tell me again why I can’t shoot you?”
“Because if you wound me, I’ll give eye-witness testimony against you. And if you kill me, my corpse will put you away for the rest of your life. Face it, Renee, you’re screwed.”
She pulls the trigger.
51
Trudy Lake.
An hour passes before my cell phone rings. It’s Detective Tan, from the Paducah police department.
“Is he all right?” I ask.
“Are you still in Starbucks? At the hospital?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need to talk with you, but I’d rather not do it on the phone.”
“I’m still a patient, and I don’t own a car.”
“It’s too late to do this now. Maybe I can come up there first thing in the morning.”
“Sure, of course. Can you just tell me if Dr. Box is okay?”
“We’re not sure.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He’s missing. And so’s his car.”
“What about Renee?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. Not at this time.”
“What about Dr. Box’s cell phone?”
“That’s a helluva good question, Miss. Hang on.”
The line goes quiet for several minutes. Then he says, “That’s missing too.”
“Oh my God!” I shout. “Thank God!”
“Ma’am? Why is the missing cell phone such good news?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Detective. And thanks for your help.”
I terminate the call and answer the call that got me so excited.
“Gideon! Is that you?”
“It’s me,” he says.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God.”
“Trudy?”
“Yes?”
“Are you still open to the road trip?”
“If you would’ve asked me ninety minutes ago I’d have said yes in a heartbeat.”
“But now?”
“Can I ask you four questions?”
“Yes. If I can ask you one.”
“You’ll have to answer honestly.”
“You too.”
“I’ll start,” I say. “First, did you fuck my sister today?”
“Yes.”
I close my eyes, shake my head. “Why?”
“Is that your second question?”
“Yes. I had another one in case the answer was no.”
“Okay. So the question is why did I have sex with your sister? The short answer is I didn’t know Renee was your sister. The complete answer is she was one of three women I’d been writing to, on the internet for several weeks.”
“Faith Hemphill, Renee Williams, and Zander Evans.”
“How did you know?”
“Small towns, Gideon. People talk.”
“Still.”
“Question three. Where are you?”
“Less than a mile from you. In a motel.”
“Why?”
“Is that question four?”
“No.”
“I’ll answer it anyway. I’m staying here tonight so I can see you tomorrow. And if you decide you want to come to New York with me, I’ll keep staying here till you’re ready to travel.”
“Question four. What happened tonight? After you were cleared of the robbery.”
“You know about the robbery?”
“Small towns, Gideon.”
“Right. So anyway, I go back to my hotel room after being framed for robbing the bowling alley-”
“With Zander Evans-”
“Yes, and there’s a knock at the door. I open it and-”
“It’s my sister, Renee-”
“Right, and I can give you the long version tomorrow, but the short version is she wanted us to be a couple, and I found out she was your sister and I didn’t want to see her anymore. She took it hard and pulled a gun on me. We got into an argument, and she tried to shoot me.”
“Then what happened?”
“You’ve asked four questions.”
“You never finished the fourth one.”
“I told you she tried to shoot me.”
“My question was ‘what happened tonight?’ You haven’t told me the rest.”
“She aimed the gun at me, pulled the trigger, nothing happened. She pulled the trigger again, and it clicked.”
“Did she forget to load it?”
“No. It was a revolver. I could see the bullets. But they didn’t fire.”
“Renee knows how to shoot a gun.”
“Believe me, she was more stunned than I was!”
“So what did you do?”
“I packed up my shit, grabbed my cell phone, and left her there.”
“She didn’t put up a fight to make you stay?”
“No.”
“Weird.”
“You think you can forgive me for having sex with your sister?”
“Is that your question?”
“No. Forget that one.”
“Okay,” I say, relieved. “What’s your question?”
“Renee said you’ve got a history of handcuffing men to the fence behind the restaurant and blowing them. What I want to know is-”
“I’ll have to call you back!” I say, and hang up.
That fucking Renee!
I take a deep breath, call him back and say, “Sorry about that. I can’t really talk right now because Clem keeps poking his head in the door. I think we both have some explaining to do, and we can do it tomorrow, after the detective finishes talking to me.”
“What detective?”
“The one from Paducah. He’s driving here to meet me first thing in the morning.”
“Why?”
“He wants to tell me something.”
“About me?”
“I guess. Or Renee. Or both of you.”
“Will you call me when he leaves?”
“Yes.”
52
Dr. Gideon Box.
The display on my cell phone says Trudy’s calling. I answer with, “Has the detective gone?”
“No. He wants to see you.”
“Why?”
“He wants you to make a statement.”
“With you there?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. But I told him you were alive, and here in town.”
“I can be there in five minutes,” I say.
I get there, say hi to Trudy, and she introduces me to Detective Tan, who immediately takes me to the hospital chapel and records my statement. When that’s done, he fills me in on what happened after I left the hotel.
Renee flew into a drunken rage and trashed the room. When the other hotel guests complained, the front desk called the room and got no answer. They sent a security guy to check things out. After knocking and getting no response, he opened the door with his pass key. Found Renee passed out on the bed with a gun beside her. Moments later a policeman showed up, thanks to Trudy’s concern for my safety. When they try to rouse Renee, she babbles an amazing story about killing her husband and her best friend, strangling Aunt Lori, and lynching her step mother.
“I believe all those things are true,” I say.
Detective Tan says, “So do I. But there’s no proof, and drunk babbling does not a confession make.”
“Why not?”
“The defense team will hire ten psychiatrists who’ll swear that drunk people often confess to crimes they’ve never committed. And they’re right. By way of example, my wife had too much to drink one night, and-I shit you not-confessed to killing Elvis.”
“Maybe she did.”
“She was eight months old when Elvis died.”
“I’m assuming you didn’t haul her ass to jail.”
“No. And I won’t be hauling Renee there, either.”
“What about the gun?”
“She’s got a permit. We’re doing ballistics on it, but my guess is it’ll come back clean.”
“Why am I alive?”
“That I can’t answer, assuming your story’s true. If it is, you’re one lucky son of a bitch.”
I go back to Trudy’s room and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Is he bothering you, Trudy?” Clem says.
“Can you give us some privacy, Clem?” she says.
“No. My orders are to stay here the entire time he’s in the room.”
“That was when they were sortin’ things out. They cleared Dr. Box of any wrong-doing. The only reason you’re here is to protect me from Daddy and Darrell.”
“Until the Sheriff himself changes my orders, I’ll follow the ones I’ve been given.”
She sighs.
I say, “Do we really care if he hears us talk?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“It’s a small town. Within an hour he’ll know everything we said anyway.”
“I don’t care. I’m not answering any personal questions as long as he’s in the room.”
“I’ll respect that. How much did the detective tell you?”
“A hell of a lot more than you did.”
“Like what?”
“Like how you took a shower after letting Renee in the room because you wanted to get cleaned up for her after spending several hours in jail.”
“What? How did he know that? I just told him five minutes ago! And anyway, there’s a simple explanation for-”
“He also told me how you asked her to monitor the phone in case you received any important calls, and that’s how she was able to call me, and of course there’s the little part about how she ordered you a big room service dinner, and how you drank a bottle of wine together-”
“She drank the wine, I just-”
“And how you painted her toenails, and-”
“At gunpoint!”
“He said she was completely naked, and-”
“Just from the waist down!” I say, outraged.
“Can you hear how this might be taken the wrong way?”
“Yes, but-”
“He told me you got her drunk.”
“Yes, but-”
“I’m so proud of you!”
“What? You are?”
“Oh, for the love of God!” Clem says, from his post, on the other side of the room.
“Shut up, Clem!” Trudy says. To me she says, “I’ve spent all night thinking about your offer, and I’ve decided if you’re still interested, I’ll go to New York City with you. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We can’t ask each other any questions about our past.”
“That’s nuts!”
“We start fresh. Beginning right now.”
“I think I have a right to know what happened at the fence.”
She sighs. “And I have a right to know what you were hoping to do with Zander at the riverbank, with your pants around your ankles. But you know what? I’ve got the good taste not to ask.”
“That’s a copout!” I say. “A one-time thing. From what I hear about the fence-”
“Gideon,” she says. “Look at me.”
I do as she says.
“Do you really care what happened at the fence?”
“Yes,” I say. “Absolutely!”
“Is it more important than us? Think before answering.”
I pause a moment.
And another.
Then say, “No.”
She smiles. “Right answer. Now kiss me. Very gently.”
I look for a place on her face that isn’t swollen, bandaged, or bruised.
“Where?” I say.
“Surprise me.”
53
Trudy Lake.
Because of Darrell’s impendin’ court date, and Daddy’s hearin’, and my continuin’ divorce battle, I tell Gideon to go back to New York, and I’ll meet him in two weeks. With Renee on the watch list of three county police departments, and Cletus and Renfro dead, and Darrell banged up to the point he can’t blink his eyes without shittin’ his pants, I reckon I’ll be safe in Clayton till then.
Gideon wants to put me up in a hotel until my affairs are settled, but for the first time in my life I have an organized plan to move away, and I’m lookin’ forward to packin’ the items I’d like to take.
Gideon’s worried about Daddy, but Daddy’s not an issue. He’s in Logan, bein’ cared for by Renee. So it makes sense for me to stay in my own home for the next two weeks.
“I don’t like it,” he says, imitatin’ Clem, to make me smile.
The hospital doctor works his way to my room around noon, and clears me to check out. An hour later, I’m sittin’ in a wheel chair out front with an orderly at my side, squintin’ against the harsh sunlight, waitin’ for Gideon to drive up in his rental car and whisk me home.
