A Grant County Collection (24 page)

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure,' Sara told him. 'Bone is living tissue. The fracture was already healing when she was killed.'

'It looked like she'd been hit in the head.'

'That was from something else. Maybe a rock fell in the cave or an animal . . .' She did not want to tell him what the animals could have done. 'Absent scalp and tissue, I can't tell you whether or not she was hit in the head immediately before she died, but even with that, her hyoid bone was broken.'

'Her what?'

'The hyoid,' she said, putting her fingers to her throat. 'It's here, a U-shaped bone in the center. It doesn't just break on its own. There has to be significant pressure there, some sort of blunt force or manual strangulation.' She watched Jeffrey, trying to gauge his reaction. 'It wasn't just fractured, it was broken in two.'

He sat up. 'Are you sure?'

'I'll show you the bone if you want.'

'No,' he said, tucking the necklace back into his pocket. 'Why would he say he killed her when he didn't?'

'That was my next question.'

'Maybe if he's lying about that, he's lying about the other night.'

'Why?' Sara asked. 'Why would he lie about either?'

'I don't know,' Jeffrey told her. 'But I've got to find out.' He indicated the sink. 'Can you finish this?'

Sara looked at the mess. 'I guess.'

He started to leave, then turned around. 'I meant it, Sara.'

She looked up. 'Meant what?'

'What I said last night,' he told her. 'I do love you.'

Despite the horrors of the last few days, she felt a smile on her face. 'Go talk to Robert,' she told him. 'I'll finish this and meet you back at Nell's.'

Tuesday

Jeffrey pulled down the visor of Robert's truck, trying to get the sun out of his eyes. He was not exactly hungover, but a small headache was sitting right behind his nose like a hot dime. Like her husband, May Tolliver had passed on one thing to her son for which Jeffrey was grateful: unless he got rip-roaring drunk, he never got hungover. It was a gift as well as a curse. In college, while Jeffrey had been able to drink anyone under the table and still be able to perform at football practice the next day, most of the guys had stopped their heavy drinking by the end of the first quarter for fear of getting kicked off the team. Jeffrey had taken a few years more. After waking up in a hospital outside of Tuscaloosa with his hand in a cast and no memory of how he had gotten there, Jeffrey had decided to bring his drinking days to an end.

Reggie Ray was sitting at the front desk when Jeffrey walked into the sheriff's station. He said, 'What are you doing here?'

Jeffrey did not have time for pleasantries. 'Fuck off, you little pissant.'

Reggie stood so fast his chair fell over. 'You wanna say that to my face?'

Jeffrey had walked past the desk, but he turned around. 'I thought I already had.'

They both waited in that stupid game of chicken that men were supposed to outgrow by this age. Even knowing this, Jeffrey stood his ground. He was sick of being treated this way. No, it went further than that. He was sick of
letting
people treat him this way. Talking to Sara, Jeffrey had finally realized after all these years that the guilt and shame he had experienced had been his own damn doing. Sara did not see him as his father's son. Even now, hearing the worst she could from all kinds of people, she stood by her original view of him. She had known him the least amount of time, yet she seemed to know him better than all of them rolled together, even Nell.

Jeffrey crossed his arms, asking Reggie, 'Well?'

'Why is it every time you're in town something bad happens?'

'Luck, I guess.'

'I don't like you,' Reggie said.

'Is that all you can come up with?' Jeffrey asked. 'Well, guess what, you little shit, I don't like you, either. I haven't liked you since you walked in on your sister giving me a blow job in your father's garage.'

Reggie took a swing, but Jeffrey caught his fist in the palm of his hand. The impact sounded harder than it was, making a loud smack in the empty room. Jeffrey squeezed Reggie's hand until the other man's knees bent.

'Asshole,' Reggie hissed, trying to get his hand back.

Jeffrey jerked the other man forward, banging him against the desk before he let him go. The front door opened and Possum walked in, glancing at Reggie, who was doubled over, before giving Jeffrey a friendly smile as if nothing had happened the day before.

'Possum,' Jeffrey began, feeling like a total bastard when he noticed the bruise running along the bottom of Possum's chin.

Possum held his friendly smile, just like always. 'No big thing, Slick,' he said, patting Jeffrey on the back. 'I got your change from yesterday. Don't let me forget to give it to you.'

'No,' Jeffrey said, thinking he had never felt so bad in his life.

Possum moved on. 'You talk to Robert?'

'I was just going to try.'

'Bail was set this morning,' Possum said, taking a thick envelope out of his pocket.

Jeffrey saw a wad of cash in the envelope and took Possum a few feet down the hall. Not that Reggie Ray wasn't listening, but he felt better having some distance from the other man.

He said, 'Possum, where'd you get that money?'

'Borrowed it against the store,' Possum said. 'Nell about had a heart attack, but we can't leave Robert locked up like that.'

Jeffrey felt his shame return. He had not even considered the possibility of Robert making bail, let alone helping out. 'Jessie's family's got plenty of money,' he said. 'You should let them do this.'

'They already said they won't,' Possum told him, and for once he looked angry about something. 'I tell you, Slick, it hurts my heart the way she's treating him. No matter what was going on, he's still her husband.'

'Did you talk to her?'

'Just came from there.' He lowered his voice. 'She was drunk as a mop and it's not even noon yet.'

'What did she say?'

'Said he could rot in hell for all she cared,' Possum told him, his tone as bitter-sounding as possible in such an affable man. 'Can you believe that? They've been together longer than dirt, and she just writes him off.'

'She
was
having an affair,' Jeffrey reminded him.

'How long?' he asked, and Jeffrey thought that was a good question. 'It doesn't make sense to me, is the thing. Mean as she could be, how could she tool around town making the nasty and nobody ever finds out and tells Robert?'

'Maybe somebody told him,' Jeffrey said, giving Reggie a glance. The deputy was staring at them with open hatred, and Jeffrey wondered if he was about to snap.

Possum must have noticed this, too. He put himself between the men, asking Reggie, 'Where do I pay bail?'

'In the back,' Reggie said. 'I'll take you.'

He shifted his gun belt as he walked toward Jeffrey, his hand resting on the butt of his gun like he wanted to remind him he could do something with it. When he bumped his shoulder against Jeffrey, Jeffrey let it go, thinking he had started enough fights lately without getting into it again so soon. When the two men were gone, he knocked on Hoss's office door, not waiting to be asked in.

'Hey,' Hoss said, standing up from his desk. Robert was sitting in front of him, hands on his lap, shoulders rolled in like he was waiting for the executioner.

'Possum's here bailing you out,' Jeffrey told him.

Robert's shoulders slumped even more. 'He shouldn't be doing that.'

'He took out money against the store.'

'Christ,' Robert breathed. 'Why'd he do that?'

'He couldn't see you staying here,' Jeffrey said, trying to get Hoss's attention. The old man stared out at the parking lot. Jeffrey got the feeling he had interrupted something. 'I've gotta say I'm not too crazy about it myself.'

Robert said, 'I'm okay.'

Jeffrey waited for him to turn around, but he would not. 'Bobby?'

He gave Jeffrey a quick glance, but that was enough to show that he had a black eye and a split lip. Jeffrey walked around the chair, trying to get a better look at him. Bruises peeked out of the top of his orange jail uniform and his left arm had a large bandage wrapped around it. Jeffrey's fists clenched without thinking about it, and he had trouble asking, 'What happened?'

Hoss answered for him. 'Got a little rowdy last night.'

'Why wasn't he sequestered?' Jeffrey demanded.

'He didn't want special treatment.'

'Special treatment?' Jeffrey repeated, not bothering to hide his outrage. 'Good God, that's not special treatment, that's common sense.'

'Don't question me, boy,' Hoss warned, his finger pointed in Jeffrey's direction. 'I can't make any man do what they don't want to do.'

'That's bullshit!' Jeffrey countered. 'He's a fucking inmate. You can make him sleep in his own shit if you want to.'

'Well, I wasn't here to do it!' Hoss raged. 'Goddammit, I wasn't here.' He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, and Jeffrey could feel the misery radiating off him like a bad smell. Whatever Jeffrey was feeling at this moment, he knew that Hoss felt worse.

'Who did it?' Jeffrey asked Robert. 'Was it Reggie Ray? If he's the one –'

Robert interrupted, 'It wasn't Reggie's fault.'

'If he –'

'I asked to be put in,' Robert said. 'I wanted to see what it was like.'

Jeffrey still could not find the words to express himself.

Hoss shifted his belt much as Reggie had done. 'I'm gonna walk outside and give you time to cool your temper,' he told Jeffrey. His tone was even enough, but the way he slammed the door behind him sent a clear message.

Jeffrey went to the source, asking Robert, 'What happened?'

Robert shrugged, wincing as it caused him obvious pain. 'I was sleeping. They woke me up and moved me into general population.'

Jeffrey felt sick at the thought of cops doing this to one of their own. There was a code, and even now Robert was upholding it despite what the bastards had exposed him to.

'Why didn't you call for help?'

'From who?' Robert asked, a sadness in his tone. 'They've all been waiting for something like this,' he said, indicating the deputies in the station with a nod of his head. 'It's the same as when we were kids, Jeffrey. Not a damn thing has changed. Every guy in here was just waiting for me to fuck up so they could throw me to the lions.' He gave a sad laugh. And Jeffrey could only imagine how horrible his night had been. The other inmates had probably thought it was Christmas, having a cop to take out all their hostilities on for the night.

Robert continued, 'All these years . . . I really thought some of those men were my friends, that I had proven myself.' He paused, obviously trying to control his emotions. 'I had a wife. I was part of a family. Hell, I even coached Little League. Did you know that? We got to the quad-A championship last year. Liked to won but one of the Thompson boys overthrew to home.' He smiled at the memory. 'Did you know that? We made it to the big stadium over in Birmingham.'

Jeffrey shook his head. He had grown up with this man, spent every day of his boyhood with him, yet he knew nothing about his life as an adult.

'You just never know what people think about you, do you?' Robert asked. 'You go to ballgames and picnics and watch their kids grow up and hear about their divorces and affairs and it doesn't mean shit. They smile to your face while they're stabbing you in the back.'

'You should've called Hoss last night,' Jeffrey said. 'He would've come down and straightened all of this out.'

'It'd just make things worse the next time.'

'Worse?' Jeffrey said. 'What's worse than getting the shit beat out of you?' His mind answered his own question, and he sunk down in the chair beside Robert before his knees gave out. 'They didn't . . .?'

Robert's voice sounded like it was coming out of a dead man. 'No.'

Jeffrey put his hand to his stomach, a hot sickness churning in his belly. 'Jesus . . .' he whispered, as close to a prayer as he had come in twenty years.

Robert's hands started to tremor, and Jeffrey noticed the handcuffs keeping them together. His fingers were as beaten up as his face, deep gashes on his knuckles where his fists had met something hard. He looked as if he had fought for his life last night.

Jeffrey asked, 'Why are you cuffed?'

'I'm a dangerous criminal,' Robert reminded him. 'I've killed two people.'

'You didn't,' Jeffrey said. 'Robert, I know you didn't do this. Why are you lying?'

'I can't do this,' Robert said. 'I thought I was strong enough, but I'm not.'

Jeffrey put his hand on Robert's shoulder, but pulled it away when the other man flinched. He wondered if Robert was telling him the truth about last night, though if he really thought about it, Jeffrey did not want to know a damn thing.

Jeffrey said, 'We'll get you a lawyer.'

'I don't have any money,' he said. 'Jessie's family wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire.'

'I'll pay for it,' Jeffrey told him, even as he racked his brain to think of where he could find that kind of money. 'I don't have enough equity in my house, but I've got a retirement plan I can cash out. It's not much, but it'll be a retainer. Between me and Possum, we can find a way to do this. I'll work security, get another job if I have to.' He cast about for something concrete. 'I can move back to Birmingham and drive down on the weekends.'

'I can't let you do that.'

'You don't have a choice,' Jeffrey told him. 'You can't spend another night in jail.'

Robert shook his head, an overwhelming sadness filling the room. 'I've never had much of a choice about anything, Jeffrey. I'm so sick of living this life. Just plain dog tired of everyone and everything in it.' He closed his eyes. 'Jessie's finished with me. She was finished with me a long time ago.'

'Is this because of the miscarriage?' Jeffrey asked, thinking that was enough to put a strain on any relationship. There had to be a reason Jessie went out on her husband. People did not cheat for no reason.

'It goes back further than that,' Robert said. 'It goes back to that day Julia came to school, saying I raped her. She never trusted me. Not after that.'

Jeffrey felt all of his senses strain. 'Did you tell Jessie what happened?'

'She never asked,' Robert said. 'There's things she knows in her head, but she never asks the question. Why don't people ask the question?'

'Maybe they don't want to know the answers,' Jeffrey told him, thinking he was just as bad as Jessie. Still, he said, 'Jessie didn't believe those rumors. Nobody who really knew you believed it was true.'

'They believed it about you,' Robert said. He looked up at Jeffrey, his eyes watering. 'I let them think that all this time.'

'Think what?'

'That you raped Julia,' he said, his eyes shifting around, like he wanted to take in every part of Jeffrey's reaction. 'I let them think it was you in the woods. I let them think you raped her.'

Jeffrey felt all the saliva in his mouth go dry.

'I was just protecting myself,' Robert said. 'You went away, but I had to stay here, had to live with them all bearing down on me, thinking they knew my nature.' He looked away. 'Every Sunday at church, I could feel Lane Kendall staring a hole into me, like she could see what was going on, like she knew what happened that day.'

'What happened, Robert?' Jeffrey waited, but he did not answer. 'Tell me what happened,' he repeated. 'I've never asked you before because I believed you were innocent. If you're saying you're guilty now, then tell me what happened.'

Robert cleared his throat a few times, then reached out with both hands to get a cup of water off the desk. He took a sip of water and winced as it went down, his Adam's apple jerking in his throat. Jeffrey saw the bruises around his neck and knew that someone had tried to strangle him. Or had they put their hands around his neck to keep him from calling out? The bruises darkened as they wrapped around the front of his neck. Had someone stood behind him, squeezing his throat shut? What were they doing that was so bad they needed to make sure Robert could not call out?