‘He ran into a burning building to get cash?’
Jeffrey asked, thinking that if Bart was telling the truth, Jeffrey had risked his life to save one of the stupidest bastards on earth.
Bart nodded. ‘At that point, you came along. Boyd got away and he met up with Clint in the woods. They had some kind of argument. I told you these men were hotheaded.’ Bart paused for effect. ‘At any rate, Clint ended up stabbing Boyd.’
‘And then what?’
‘And then he had to tell Jake.’
‘What about the knife?’
‘Clint didn’t want to lose his knife – it was expensive – so he used one he’d… found.’ The man held out his hands in an open shrug. ‘Mind you, I got this story second-hand from Jake, so I can’t confirm the veracity.’
‘Yeah,’ Jeffrey said. ‘I understand that.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Did Jake say whose idea it was to throw Boyd’s body into my hotel room?’
‘His. Jake thought if your wife got scared enough, you’d leave town.’
Jeffrey asked, ‘What about Charlotte Gibson?’
‘Jake got worried because she was talking to Lena.’
‘So Jake torched her?’
‘Yes. Jake liked to send messages.’
‘Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
Jeffrey remembered what Lena had said about Bart’s last words to Valentine, the anger that had boiled up between the two men. The dentist had been supplementing his income with meth since Valentine was in diapers. He’d been the big man in town until Myra had married her college sweetheart.
‘Lemme get this straight.’ Jeffrey summarized, counting off the dead bodies on his fingers as he said, ‘Clint Jones killed Boyd Gibson, Jake killed Charlotte and of course you were kind enough to shoot Clint in – what – self-defense? I guess leaving Lena and Sara in the house to die was some kind of oversight on your part?’
‘I know I shouldn’t have left those women there, but I was terrified. Jake has some powerful friends. I ran away because I was frightened. I take full responsibility for that.’
‘I’m happy to hear you take responsibility for something.’
He tried to defend himself, saying, ‘I called the sheriff’s office and gave an anonymous tip.’
Nick had obviously heard this before. ‘We listened to the nine-one-one tapes from Friday, Fred. We haven’t found anything.’
‘Then you need to keep looking,’ Bart insisted. ‘I called from a pay phone at the Stop ‘n’ Save. It should have my fingerprints on it.’
Jeffrey didn’t doubt the phone had Bart’s prints on it. He’d had plenty of time to think up an alibi while Lena and Sara were fighting for their lives.
‘What about the other body?’ Jeffrey asked.
‘Other body?’ Bart echoed. ‘What other body?’
He seemed as surprised as Sara and Lena had been. Both women swore they hadn’t seen anyone else in Hank’s house, but the remains of a man’s body had been found somewhere in the vicinity of the back bedroom.
Jeffrey told him, ‘There was another set of bones in Hank Norton’s house. The state coroner says he was an older man, maybe in his sixties.’
Bart looked at his hands. ‘I don’t know anything about that.’
‘You don’t know anything about a lot of things,’ Jeffrey challenged. ‘I think you’re just sitting there with your little mind spinning, trying to come up with quick answers for every question, but the thing is you’ve got no idea how deep this hole is you’re standing in.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Jeffrey looked at Nick. Both men knew that Bart was either too arrogant or too stupid to see that his life was pretty much over the minute he shot Clint Jones and told Jake Valentine to get under the sink.
‘All righty.’ Nick sighed, pressing his palms against the table as he stood up.
Bart yelped, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Packing up,’ Nick told him, collapsing the tripod. ‘You don’t know doodly squat, Tonto, and I have a feeling any second now the Lone Ranger there’s gonna be heading back up to the corral to get along with his little doggies.’
The lawyer chuckled. ‘Well put.’
Nick told him, ‘No offense, buddy, but we’re really hoping none of this goes any farther than it has to.’
‘I think we’ve had enough collateral damage to last us for a while.’ The lawyer pushed Valentine’s photos of Fred Bart across the table. ‘It seems to me you have an overwhelming amount of evidence here. Surely enough to charge the guilty party.’ He stood, telling Jeffrey. ‘I’m very sorry that your wife was in harm’s way.’ As an afterthought, he added, ‘And your detective, too, of course.’
Jeffrey took the man’s meaning, but he wanted to be clear. ‘Just so long as they’re safe now.’
‘They are.’
The lawyer turned to leave, but Bart clawed his arm, screaming, ‘You said they’d work a deal! You said they would-‘
‘Get your hands off me,’ he barked, jerking his arm away.
Bart finally seemed to understand that the lawyer wasn’t on his side, that the only reason the man was here was so he could make sure Bart wasn’t a threat to the people who were really paying his fees.
For his part, the lawyer seemed relieved that the masquerade was over. He gave Nick a nod, then Jeffrey. ‘Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.’
‘What are you doing?’ Bart demanded. ‘You’re my lawyer! Where are you going?’
The man left the room without looking back.
Bart stood by the table, wringing his hands like a woman.
Nick told him, ‘Sit down, Fred.’
Bart sagged into his chair. ‘I want to cut a deal,’ he muttered. ‘I need to cut a deal.’
‘Welcome to the State of Getting Your Head Out of Your Ass.’ Nick clapped his hands in mock congratulations. ‘What kind of deal you think you can make, Freddy boy?’
‘Any kind,’ Bart pleaded. ‘Just tell me what you want me to say.’
Nick shook his head. ‘We want you to say some names, Fred. Only problem is, you don’t know ‘em.’
‘I know them!’ Bart screeched. ‘I know all of them!’
‘Like?’
‘Like…’ His mouth worked as he tried to come up with something. ‘Just tell me. Tell me who you want and I’ll say it!’
‘Rhymes with Spitzpatrick.’
He paled. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I can’t do that.’
Nick shrugged. ‘Lookit, hoss, we’re giving you enough rope here to hang a snake. Not my fault you can’t tie the knot.’
‘They’ll kill me,’ Bart said. ‘They’ll… worse than that. They don’t just kill people… they…’ His words stopped as he gulped for air. ‘Please…’ he cried.
Jeffrey stood up and Nick opened the door.
‘No!’ Bart begged. ‘You can’t just leave me here.’
Nick couldn’t help himself. ‘Don’t worry, hoss. We’ll go by the Stop ‘n’ Save and call nine-one-one on our way out of town.’
Jeffrey had a bad taste in his mouth as he drove past the Elawah County High School. He should feel good about leaving Fred Bart to the wolves, but instead he felt dirty. Fred Bart had left Sara to burn, and Jeffrey was a firm believer in an eye for an eye. He was also a cop, and he knew the state had a process for taking care of its most deserving criminals. What was the difference between waiting ten years for appeals to fall through and letting the Brotherhood take care of him?
The difference was that the Brotherhood got stronger with every life they took. They wouldn’t roll Bart into a sterile room and slip a needle in his arm. They would make him beg for his life. They would beat him, torture him – make it so that death was the only thing he had to look forward to. Fred Bart would be a lesson for every other thug and moron out there: you did not cross the Brotherhood without paying the ultimate price.
Still, Ethan Green’s words kept coming back into his head, and Jeffrey couldn’t help but wonder if the young man had seen the real Jeffrey, the one who hid behind his badge while he looked the other way. Jeffrey had taken an oath to protect and defend everybody, not just the people he thought deserved it. He was supposed to work within the system, not make up the rules as he went along.
He was supposed to take care of the weak and protect them from the strong. Fred Bart sure hadn’t looked strong when Jeffrey and Nick had left him crying in the interrogation room. He had fallen to the floor on his knees, begging for help.
Jeffrey realized he’d passed the motel and made a U-turn. He pulled up in front of the office as the maid was coming out of one of the rooms. She stood there, watching him get out of the car.
Jeffrey told her, ‘I need to get the things out of room fourteen.’
‘They’re packed up,’ the woman said, walking away.
Jeffrey guessed he was expected to follow her. He caught the office door before she let it slam in his face.
‘Thanks,’ he said.
She went behind the front counter, scratching her arms through her long-sleeved shirt. She told him, ‘There’s a balance on the room.’
Jeffrey glanced at the keys hanging on the board behind her and figured maybe three rooms were checked out. ‘Been busy lately?’
‘Listen, asshole. I don’t make the rules.’
He laughed, taking out his wallet. ‘How much is it?’
She scratched her neck, calculating how much she could get off him. ‘A hundred bucks.’
‘How about twenty?’
‘How about fifty?’
Jeffrey paid her the money, though he seriously doubted the cash would ever make its way into the register. Judging by the woman’s appearance, he guessed he was looking at one of those rare things: a meth addict who had made it past her thirties.
The woman asked, ‘How’s the girl doing?’
‘ Lena?’
‘Yeah, her.’
‘She’s okay.’
‘Right,’ the woman said. She took out a bag from under the counter and pushed it toward Jeffrey. ‘Here’s her shit. Go on and get the fuck out of here.’
He studied her face for a moment, the arrogant tilt of her chin. Slowly, he said, ‘She’s at St. Ignatius for a few more days.’
‘Great. My tax dollars at work.’
‘You pay taxes?’ She gave him an eat-shit look that he should have been used to by now. ‘You know, your daughter looks at me the same way sometimes.’
‘I ain’t got a daughter.’
‘ Lena looks just like you.’
Angela Adams grunted, giving up. She had fifty bucks in her pocket and a need in her veins. ‘Got her head up her ass just like me. Didn’t recognize her own mother standing right in front of her.’
Jeffrey had barely made the connection himself between the oil painting that he’d seen hanging over Hank Norton’s living room couch and the woman standing in front of him. Something about the tilt of her chin had given it away – even after all these years, she had that arrogant challenge in her eyes. Angela had been beautiful once, but meth had taken that from her, just like it had taken her away from her young daughters.
Still, Jeffrey tried to be kind. ‘Sometimes you don’t see what you’re not looking for.’
‘You think I don’t know what I look like?’ She picked at the edge of the laminate. ‘Hank doing okay?’
Jeffrey felt another piece of the puzzle click into place. ‘Hank was with you the whole time he was missing. Wasn’t he?’
‘Stupid fucker should’ve known better. Didn’t last no more than a coupl’er three days before we were ready to kill each other.’ She picked at the sore on her neck. ‘Bastard just walked off one morning. I guess he turned up at his house.’
‘He’s cleaning up,’ Jeffrey told the woman. ‘All the meth is out of his system.’
‘He’s always looked after them.’ She caught herself. ‘Her.’
‘We found the birth certificate you filled out with Hank’s name on it.’
‘Did she see it?’
‘No,’ Jeffrey said. ‘It got lost in the shuffle.’
She gave a rueful laugh. ‘Dumb fuck that I was -I figured it’d make it easier for him to take the girls, keep them safe. I nearly got him arrested.’ She started picking at the sore again. Blood trickled out. ‘I was the one who got Hank hooked. Did he tell you that?’
‘We’ve never really talked about it.’
‘When Cal was killed – that’s their father -1 just couldn’t take it. Pregnant, fat, miserable, alone. Then, I had a toothache on top of everything else. I went to that stupid bald fuck Fred Bart. He told me he had something that could take the edge off.’ She glared at Jeffrey as if he’d challenged her. ‘I made my choice.’
‘ Lena would want to see you.’
‘I been in and out of jail the last twenty years. You think a cop wants a con for a mother?’
Jeffrey certainly hadn’t wanted his own father, but then you didn’t get to choose your parents. ‘I’ve known Lena a long time. She’d want to see you.’
‘You think she wants to see this?’ Angela demanded, rolling up her sleeve.
Jeffrey winced at the damage the needles had done to her skin over the years.
‘I work here,’ Angela said. ‘I make just enough money to keep myself going. I don’t need nothing in my life that makes it complicated.’
‘I’m not sure Lena would agree.’
‘Yeah, well…’ She pushed her sleeve back down. ‘I don’t really give a fuck what you think, asshole. Get the hell out of my face.’
She walked around the counter, heading toward the door. Jeffrey expected her to leave, but she stopped.
He tried, ‘You’re her mother. Nothing will ever change that.’
She kept her back to him, her hand on the glass door. ‘You wanna know what kind of mother I am?’ She shook her head, disgusted. ‘I promised I’d leave them alone, but I was broke, twitching so bad it hurt. I went over to the house, begged Hank for some money. He gave it to me, and I-‘ she took a deep breath. ‘I was backing up the car, not looking where I was going, and I ran right over her, right in front of her sister and that pudgy little girl from up the street. You know about that? You know I blinded my own daughter?’
Jeffrey couldn’t fathom that kind of guilt.
‘Cops banged me up the next day for holding. There was some other stuff on my sheet – some bad checks, a couple of priors. The judge came down on me hard. Me and Hank, we figured the girls would be better off thinking I was dead instead of knowing what I really was.’
‘Still-‘
‘Mister, giving up those babies was the only good thing I ever did in my life. Don’t take that away from me.’
She pushed open the door and walked out, leaving Jeffrey alone with Lena ‘s things.
TWENTY-EIGHT