My Name Is River Blue (52 page)

"Max, calm
down. Everyone makes mistakes, and I'm sure you had reasons for what you did.
As long as you tell me the truth about your mistakes, we can put it all behind
us. I can't forgive you if you don't answer my questions honestly. Now, tell
me. Why did you run Ant and me off the road?"

At first, Max
was hard to understand, but suddenly, his blubbering ceased and he spoke so
clearly that it struck me as odd that he could change his demeanor so quickly.
As I listened to him, I began to understand that he felt justified in all that
he did even though his rationalizations would never make sense to anyone but
him.

"It's like
this, River. SC wanted another running back, but it wasn't a critical need.
Same for a receiver. They wanted you more than they did anyone else, and they
couldn't get you without Ant. They didn't have a spot for me if both of you accepted,
so the only way they would give me an offer is for one of you not to go. When
you told me you guys were accepting, I had no choice."

"You told
me you had other offers, Max. Why didn't you take one of them?"

Max was surprised
that I didn't understand. His voice grew louder as he explained. "And be the
first man in my family who wasn't good enough for SC to make him an offer? My
old man already hated me because I couldn't play QB1. He was always proud of me
until you came along in junior Hawks and took QB1 from me. That's the day he
started slapping me around when he drank. You ruined everything."

Big Bill threw
off his shock and stood towering in a threatening posture over Max. "So
you thought it was worth killing two innocent boys so you could play football
for SC? Just so the father that abused you would have something to brag about
at the club when he got drunk?"

"Please sit
down, Mr. Summers," I ordered. I gave Big Bill a look that I hoped told him
to let me handle things. He sat down and held his head in his hands. "Tell
me about the truck, Max."

Max nodded his
head, and then he smiled as if he had just solved a difficult puzzle. "So
that's how you knew it was me. Manny snooped around the trucking company, and
Skinner caved, didn't he? Or either Manny bribed him. He had no idea why I
borrowed a truck so I'm sure he fell apart if Manny hinted that there was a
connection with a fatal accident."

Big Bill
interrupted again. "You mean the assistant manager of my trucking company?
How was he involved?" I gave Bill a nasty look that he understood meant to
shut his mouth.

Max spoke to me
and avoided looking at his uncle. "Skinner was the assistant manager when
my father owned it too. He was the only one who knew I borrowed a truck, but he
never knew why. Before I ever needed a truck, I caught him embezzling a little
money by shaving it off truck rental fees. I told him that it would be our
secret but that he owed me. When I needed a truck, he was in no position to ask
questions or object. I guess Manny scared him worse than I did."

The barn party
came back to me. I remembered that Max left much earlier than Ant and I did. It
was right after I told him of my decision to go to SC. He had plenty of time to
drive thirty minutes to get the truck from the yard and to be waiting for us to
drive by the Thomas farm. It wasn't easy, but I kept my emotions under control
and encouraged him to speak freely.

"Okay, Max.
How about Carlee? Tell me everything that happened."

"I had a
couple of days off from the team, so I came up here for a party in my Uncle
Bill's neighborhood. I was sleeping off a hangover at his house, and when I woke
up, I looked out the window and noticed him in the garden. I went downstairs to
find some aspirin at the same time Carlee walked into the house. She was
upset.'

"Carlee
said her father knew that a truck ran Ant's car off the road before you ever told
anyone, and you knew the truck was from Lucky Trucking. I'm the one that called
Uncle Bill and I never knew I slipped up by saying that a truck hit you. I
couldn't let Carlee talk to her father until I had time to think of a good
story. If I'd had more time to think, I would have just told them that I drove
by the accident scene and saw a dented truck there that I thought was involved
in the accident.'

"Instead, I
panicked and blurted out the truth to Carlee. That I drove the truck. I asked
her to let me explain, but she just screamed at me and screamed at me. I held
her and told her to calm down so we could talk. I knew I could make her
understand why I had to do it, if she would just listen to me. Then we could
have both talked to her father, and all three of us could have been on the same
page and covered for me. It wasn't my fault that she jerked away from me and hit
her head on the fireplace.'

"When her
cell buzzed with your text that you were looking for her, I saw a way to get
out of the mess. So I sent you a message back and watched for you, and when you
came in, I walked out to Uncle Bill in the gardens and acted like I just woke
up. He was ready to come in and have some coffee, so we walked back together. I
stopped off to use the bathroom, and he went ahead of me and found you with
Carlee."

Everyone else in
the dining room was quiet. Big Bill was still sitting with his head in his
hands and his eyes down. He was muttering so low that I had to listen carefully
to understand him.

"How could
you? How could you kill my baby after all I did for you? I tried. Your father
was worthless, but I tried to help you, and you killed my baby. How could you act
like you did nothing?"

Max stared at
the floor as he spoke to his uncle. "I'm sorry, Uncle Bill. I knew if I
could get her to calm down, she would forgive me. If River had wanted to cause
trouble for us with what Carlee said, she could have denied telling him
anything about a truck. You could have backed her up. River and Carlee would
have broken up like you wanted, and no one would have ever known I caused the
wreck. Everything would have been fine if she had just talked to me instead of
yelling and fighting me."

Bill Summers
shook his head. "You blame Carlee? And you honestly expect me to believe
that you thought Carlee and I would just forgive and forget what you did to
those boys? What were you going to do if River's attorney attacked me in court
and asked me under oath when and how I first heard that there was a truck involved
in the boys' accident? I would have told the truth. Were you going to back me
up? Or were you going to say you never called me and made it look as if I drove
the truck or paid someone to drive it?"

Max said nothing,
and I think his silence answered Big Bill. From the look on Summers' face, I
think he was wondering, as I was, how he missed seeing so much of the real Max.
I believe we were both curious to know how many of Max's statements were honest
answers of a delusional mind, and how many were intended to play us for fools
while he set up his next move.

I remembered an
evening years ago when I was a freshman in high school. It was the night that the
cops arrested Casey, Josh, and Joe on drug charges. After all that time, I knew
why they were stopped, and I confirmed it with Max. "Our first year on the
varsity, you called the cops on Joe and the guys, didn't you? So you would be
sure to start at tailback?"

Max admitted the
truth and acted almost proud. "Yeah, I called before we ever went outside
and before they offered us a ride. I heard them talking in the locker room. I
knew they were holding and planning to smoke before they went home. They deserved
to be busted because they had their minds on smoking dope instead of what was
best for the team. The game meant nothing to them and everything to me."

"Tell me
about Papa." I directed Max. "Why run him off the road? Did you have
a good reason for that, too?"

"Uncle Bill
said that if we bought the Harper Park land that the project would be complete
by the time I finished college, and that he would put me in charge and give me
part ownership of the whole center. I was never going to have the size to play
pro ball, but with the new center, I would have a great job making good money. I
could prove to my father that I wasn't a loser. The only problem was that Papa
refused to sell the land to us, and if we gave the city the money to buy it, he
had the swing vote on the council to stop them selling it to us. He just
couldn't see reason. What was so great about that rundown park anyway? Don't
you see how crazy he was?"

I'm not sure how
I did it, but I kept my emotions steady when I really wanted to beat Max until
his own mother wouldn't recognize him. "Okay, Max. I understand." I
looked at Big Bill. "Mr. Summers, I'm sorry, but I thought you were behind
it all, and I owe you an apology."

Big Bill nodded
his head. I had never seen him look so defeated. I can't imagine how hard it
was for him to know that Max was responsible for Carlee's death, and for
trashing his family name with his crimes.

"Mr.
Summers, do you remember Gabe?" I asked. "The Mexican guy that your
wife liked before you were married?"

"Yeah, I
do," he mumbled.

"He was my
father."

Big Bill
understood immediately what I was asking. "I'm sorry about your father,
but as far as I know, it was an accident. I wanted Beth, but I would have never
hurt that boy to get her. Screwing over your competition is a long way from
physically harming someone. I've never crossed that line."

I knew as much
of the truth as I was ever going to know. I believed that my father's death was
both an accident and a mystery that would never be solved.

I thought that
beyond high school and college football, Max's father failed at most things,
including growing his businesses and loving his son. Big Bill was successful in
football and business, and in his own misguided way, he attempted to be a good
father to his children. He was an asshole, but he
was
not a killer. Max was both. Max,
my friend. Ant's friend and Carlee's cousin. A boy Papa cheered and encouraged.
A friend we all supported while his father abused him emotionally and
physically. A friend who chose to earn his father's approval even when it meant
betraying the people who really cared for him.

It was
incredible to me that anyone would take another person's life for the petty reasons
that Max did. Exactly how crazy was his world where murder was an acceptable
tool to continue a family sports tradition that existed only to stroke small-town
egos? What kind of person rationalizes that no one's life is as precious as his
own need to seek power and stature that are beyond the imaginations of ordinary
people? Why did he act surprised that anyone would suggest that there were other
choices available to him besides destroying the lives of people who loved him?

Max was my best
argument in favor of capital punishment because I thought it should be reserved
for sociopathic scum to whom other peoples' lives meant nothing. I knew a true
sociopath would never grow a conscience and would be forever dangerous to
society because he didn't work on the same value system as the majority of
people did. Max could never feel sorry for his actions. The best he could do,
was feel sorry that he was
caught
, and no matter what he promised, he
would resort to the same solutions to get what he wanted. The only difference
was that he would be more careful in the future.

I was surprised
when Max stood and slowly walked towards me. He dropped to his knees in front
of me and begged me to forgive him. I knew that I shouldn't, but I briefly felt
sorry for him as he cried against my leg and repeatedly mumbled his apologies.
In all the time I had known him, I had never seen him as such a pathetic excuse
for a human being. My anger lessened, and I felt incredibly sad.

For a few
moments, my mind drifted away to memories of what Max took from me.

Ant and I were
in our room at Tolley House where he made up one of his songs that was so bad I
begged him to stop. He showed me that grin that could light up a black night, and
I heard him say, "RB, one day, I'm gonna get you to smile and sing with me."
Then I saw Carlee in our tent at Deer Lake. She leaned over me and planted
small kisses on my nose, my cheeks, and my lips. "River, I love you so
much, and I will forever." I smiled back, and then she was gone. Suddenly,
I was in Harper Park and saw Papa's big hands grasping the football. "If
you just use the right grip, you're halfway to throwing a good pass." He
grinned and his Santa Claus eyes twinkled as they often did.

Those people I
loved were never coming back because Max selfishly decided to rip them away
from the lives of all the people who loved them. It was the same Max, who was kneeling
at my feet and quietly begging me to forgive him.

"Please,
River. My dad messed up my head. You know how he was. Let me walk out of here,
and I'll leave town and never come back."

I could hardly believe
what Max was suggesting or that it was logical to him. "Do you really
think you can kill three people and just walk away? Like their lives didn't
matter?"

Max stood to face
me. He abruptly stopped sobbing, leaned his head in closer, and whispered, so
only I could hear him. He was a different Max, and the callous tone of his
voice was chilling. I tightened my grip on the Luger and moved my arm back slightly
to keep the separation I needed.