The Matriarch (27 page)

“It’s a dream, isn’t it, Louie?” she whispers against his muzzle. “A nightmare. Cass didn’t really kill Shelly, did he?”

“Jesus, Charlotte, I didn’t kill—”

“So who did then?” Charlotte asks, raising her head from Louie’s.

“No one,” I say. “She was crazy with the figs and … had an accident.”

“Oh. The figs just slammed her headfirst into that iron footboard—that’s what you’re telling me?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Charlotte. You’re the one who spotted the change in Shelly, remember? You noticed her eyes. My God, Charlotte, she tried to kill us—Lester and me!”

She stands then, and Louie comes over to me. He starts licking my hand. “I wanted to come with you,” Charlotte says. “I could have stopped her. But no, ‘I’ll handle this,’ you said. ‘I’ll take care—’”

A loud click then, and the room is bathed in a cheery, too bright light. Frank stands at the Parson’s table, his hand on the switch of the brass lamp.

“What’s the problem here?” he says. His eyes are huge behind his spectacles, and his hair is standing up in white spikes. He’s wearing nothing but bright red boxer shorts.

“Tell your uncle what you’ve done, Cass,” she says, and strides past the old man down the hall.

“What’s she talkin’ about?” Frank asks.

“We’ve got big trouble, Uncle Frank,” Cassidy says. The boy looks worn out, like he’s just come out the sorry loser in a very tough fight. And Lester … shit sakes! The man’s arm is hurt bad, looks like.

“What’s happened here?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” Cassidy says, and guides Lester into the kitchen. “Come on in here and help us, Frank.”

Cassidy wets a dishtowel and begins to clean Lester’s upper arm and the wound that’s oozing blood. Frank gets the bottle of Dickel and pours some onto a clean dishcloth. He pours a generous amount into a glass. “Drink this, Lester,” he says and hands Lester the glass. He then puts the cloth soaked with whiskey onto the wound itself. Lester jumps, grimacing with pain.

“Hurts like hell I know, but it keeps the germs away.” Lester drinks the whiskey down.

Cassidy binds up Lester’s arm in a sling he makes from a couple of torn up dishtowels. He pours himself a shot of the Dickel and tells his uncle the unlikely, truly incredible story of Shelly’s death.

“Lordy-God,” Frank says. “That’s just crazy!”

“Maybe we should run,” Lester says. “Nobody’s going to believe that story.” He pours himself another shot of whiskey. “Too many people dead, and that tree’s going crazy. We need to get out of here. We can call the state police from the border.”

“No,” Frank says. “We don’t run.”

He has trouble believing Cassidy about the monster fig tree, but his mind keeps showing him pictures. Pictures of himself battling a bright green rope that wanted his foot for some reason—and maybe his life. In his head he sees a close up of his strangled boot that still lies out near that Godforsaken tree.

“Life deals us some mighty peculiar cards, don’t she?” Frank says. “Any chance Shelly is still alive?”

Cassidy looks at him with bloodshot eyes. “None,” he says.

“We’re gonna have to make a call. Report this, you know.” Frank shakes his head. He’s so sad, he actually hurts. He wonders how Charlotte is taking this. “Why is Charlotte so mad at you?”

Cassidy stares off for a moment. “She wanted to go with me to the barn. Where Shelly was with Lester. I told her to stay here. I said I’d handle everything.”

“Ah,” Frank says, nodding. “And you think if you had taken her with you—”

“Yeah. Maybe she would have been able to talk to Shelly and keep her from—”

“That’s a very big ‘maybe,’ Cassidy. You can’t figure it like that.”

Problem is, Frank can’t figure it any which way—whole thing is just too crazy. He thinks to walk over and give Cassidy a pat on the shoulder but stands right where he is. “I’m going to make some coffee,” he says and sets about doing that. “I’ll see if Charlotte will have a cup with me. Then we should all go to the barn and see to Shelly.”

“We don’t have time for all that, Frank,” Cassidy says, his voice rising.

“Charlotte needs to say goodbye to her sister, and we need to … do the same.”

“I covered her body, Frank,” Cassidy says. “And I closed her eyes. I did all I could.”

Frank nods. “And, we have to call the authorities. Like make a 911 call. We’re goin’ to get some mighty tough questions once the law gets a look at Shelly.”

A wave of fatigue goes right through me. I think of what Lester said—maybe we should run—what a wonderful idea. There’s a killer tree after us all, but the thing that’s driving me out the door is that Charlotte hates my guts. She thinks I could have saved Shelly. Fuck! Maybe I could have. Maybe there was a way. But … running?

No! I have to stay. I want Charlotte back. Back with me. I have to find a way … And we have to kill that Goddamned tree before she kills us.

Frank seems to think we have all the time in the world, and calling any authorities is just about as attractive to me right now as jumping into a bog of quicksand.

“We have to burn down that fucking tree, Frank, like yesterday! And once acting asshole Al Schmidt gets his nose into Shelly’s death, well … He’s just waiting for a shot at me—you know that. We can take care of ‘the authorities’ after we take care of The Tree.” I wave a hand toward the coffee pot perking away on the counter. “That coffee’s a good idea, Frank. And maybe some fast toast. Can’t work on an empty stomach.”

Dott and Charlotte come into the kitchen then, and Dott guides Charlotte to the table where she sits down. Once seated, she’s motionless.

“She needs a doctor,” I say softly, and Dott nods. “I don’t want her in the barn again, Uncle Frank. I don’t think she can take another look.”

Charlotte looks up at me, frowning. “I’m right here, you know. You don’t have to use the third person. I can hear you, and I understand you.”

What a nightmare this woman has gone through! We all sit down at the table and have coffee and toast.

“Want a little somethin’ in your coffee?” Frank asks the group. He gestures toward a bottle of brandy he’s placed on the table.

“Not a good idea, Frank,” I say. “We’ve got to be sharp for the job ahead.”

“Cassidy, why are we all in such a bloomin’ hurry?” Franks says. “Nobody’s pickin’ up any more figs, and we’ve got a lot on our plate just now. There’s Shelly a’ course, and Charlotte here isn’t in the best of shape, and neither is Lester. I think that tree can wait at least a little while.”

“Yeah, but The Tree is still growing. She’s going to be plenty tough to put down.” I don’t tell them that I also think The Tree is one smart lady, and I’m pretty damn sure she knows we’re coming. I think she’s ready for us.

“I agree,” Dott says. She turns and places a huge hand at the back of Charlotte’s neck. She works her fingers gently into the flesh there. “Charlotte? You can trust me, sweetheart, you know that don’t you?”

Charlotte smiles at Dott, meek as a child.

“Do you want to come along with us?” Dott asks, smiling. “Do you want to help us with the tree?”

“No,” I say. “She needs to rest. There’s nothing she can do.”

“There’s plenty I can do,” Charlotte says, glaring at me. “If I believe what all you people are telling me, and I guess I do, that fucking tree and her fucking figs are responsible for my little sister … losing her mind. I want to help kill that monster.”

Charlotte’s face is flushed with healthy anger. She’s beautiful, and I ache to hold her.

“Good!” everyone says, almost in unison.

“Sweet fucking Christ!” Acting Sheriff Albert D. Schmidt roars. He can’t believe it. “Where were you, anyway?” He received this ridiculous,
unthinkable
news at 6:30 this morning. He had thrown his uniform on and driven to his office in a rage.

“I was right there, sir,” the deputy says, his face glowing red. “I mean, like nearby, you know. Like at my desk, sir.”

“Nearby?
Nearby?
” Al scowls at Deputy Jim Collins, his second in command. Two more deputies are there as well, standing at attention. He turns his glare on one of them. “Stanley, I want a twenty-four hour suicide watch on Lindee Banyon, starting right now. I don’t want that woman takin’ a crap without your company. I’m sure as shit not goin’ to lose her too.” He waves the man away and addresses the other. “And you, Jenkins, get the coroner over here.”

He turns back to the grisly scene in Carla Russo’s cell. Al pushes the red-faced Deputy Collins aside and kneels in front of the cell door, studying the body through the narrow bars. Carla lies on the floor in her navy jump suit, dried blood on her face and head.

“Please tell me you checked for a pulse? You know for certain the woman is dead?”

“Sure! You bet, sir. She’s dead.”

“How did she do this?” Al asks. “Did she run headfirst into the bars?”

“There’s blood on the bars there, sir. See it?”

“Shut up.”

“She might a’ grabbed the bars and rammed her head—”

Al stood up so fast he saw spots. He turned unsteadily to his deputy. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Sweet Christ, all you had to do was keep your eye on a crazy old lady.”

“I know, sir. I really feel terrible about this.”

“Oh well, that’s okay then, Jim-boy. That makes you a hell-uv-a guy, doesn’t it?”

And it makes me a fucking loser. Who’s gonna want a sheriff who can’t keep a demented old-lady killer alive? In a locked cell, for Chrissake?

“That’s what we need around here, a really sensitive lawman.”

The deputy takes a breath and starts to walk into the cell. “I’ll just get her cleaned up—”

Al lunges and gets his hands onto the deputy’s shoulders. He slams Jim-boy up against the bars of the cell. “Are you out of your fucking mind? This is a
crime
scene, you …” He has no words. “You don’t
clean up
a crime scene, asshole! You take pictures, you take notes … you …
investigate!
”

And this man is my second in command!

Al knows in his cramping gut that Al Schmidt is the real victim here. And like every other shitty break in his life, it isn’t his fault.

“Don’t do anything, Collins. And don’t touch anything. If you can manage it, let me know when the coroner gets here.” Al walks off to his office. No way around it, he has to report this sorry mess to the ailing Sheriff Ramirez. For some reason, Manny hasn’t called in for over a day now.