Spencerville (16 page)

"You couldn't accept the other men."

"No, I couldn't. And you?"

"Women are different. I just wanted you to get it out of your system."

"Well, I have."

"Me, too." She added, "I've never had an affair."

"I don't care if you have. You deserved one."

"No, listen to me. I'm hopelessly old-fashioned. But in your case, Mr. Landry, I'll make an exception."

"Well... I'd like nothing more right now. But... we have to understand the consequences if we..."

"Keith, I don't give a damn about the consequences. We've cleared up the past, and that's all we had to do. Make love to me now, and the hell with the future."

He took her arm and led her toward the stairs, his heart pounding, afraid the phone would ring, afraid it wouldn't.

He didn't even remember how he got into the bedroom, but there they were with the lamp on. She looked nervous, he thought, and he said, "Do you want a drink?"

"No, I want to do this with a clear head." She looked around the room. "We did it here once when your family was out visiting."

"Right. I pretended I was sick and stayed home."

She didn't seem to hear him and kept looking around, then looked into one of the wardrobes, which he noticed was open. He could see, and she could see, the hanging holster, the bulletproof vest, the sword, the uniforms, and the M-16 rifle. She turned to him but made no remark, except, "I see you know how to keep a room tidy."

"I'm a tidy bachelor."

They stood awkwardly, facing each other, and they seemed to have run out of small talk. She pulled her turtleneck out of her jeans and said, "Well, I'll break the ice." She pulled the sweater over her head and threw it aside, then unhooked her bra, slipped it off, and let it drop to the floor. "Okay?" She held out her hands, and he took them. She put his hands on her breasts, and he caressed them, feeling her nipples harden.

She reached out and unbuttoned his shirt, then ran her hands over his chest. "You feel the same, Keith."

"You, too."

She pressed her breasts against his chest, and they kissed while she slipped his shirt off. Still kissing, she undid her jeans and pulled them with her panties down to her thighs. She directed his hand between her legs, and he felt her pubic hair, then her vagina, which was moist.

She moved back and sat on the bed, pulling off her shoes, socks, jeans, and panties. Completely naked now, she looked at him and smiled. "Is this really happening?"

"My God, Annie, you are beautiful."

She suddenly stood and threw her arms around him. "I love you."

He picked her up and carried her back to the bed, laying her on the quilt with her legs over the foot of the bed, then he bent over her and kissed her breasts, her stomach, then he knelt and ran his tongue down to the soft inside of her thigh, and she spread her legs so he could kiss her between her legs. She arched her back, and he put his hands under her buttocks and pushed his face deeper between her legs.

He stood slowly and undid his belt and trousers.

She lay on the bed, breathing hard, then slid back and put her head on the pillow, watching him undress. She watched every move he made as he came toward her, and when he was in reaching distance, she took his hands in hers.

He straddled her and kissed her on the cheek. He said, "Okay?"

She nodded.

He lowered himself, and she put him inside her.

They kissed softly and held each other gently, caressing, moving slowly as if they had all the time in the world.

They lay on the bed, on their sides, she behind him with her arms around him and her legs entwined in his like nesting spoons. She kissed his neck. "Sleeping?"

"No. Dreaming."

"Me, too." She hugged him tighter and ran her feet over his calves.

"I like that."

"I know."

He turned toward her and, still on their sides, they wrapped their arms and legs around each other. She said, "If you knew how often I fantasized about this..."

"Not more than I did."

"Really?"

"Yes."

She said, "I told you I never had an affair. Not even a fling."

"It doesn't matter either way."

"It does to me. This is very special to me."

"I understand."

"I'm not telling you that so you think you have to marry me. I'm already married. I'm just saying it was very special to me. And if this turns out to be the end of it, I'll understand. This is all I ever wanted. This one more time."

"Do you mean that?"

"No."

He laughed.

She tousled his hair, then sat up. "Tell me... there were other women, I know, but was there any one woman?"

"Nothing to write home about." He thought a moment, then said, "I honestly couldn't get you out of my mind. So I couldn't... I mean, there was no reason to marry."

She didn't reply for a long time, then said, "Maybe if I hadn't had children, I'd have shown up at your doorstep one day."

"There were times and places when I didn't even have a doorstep. It wouldn't have been much of a life for us."

"We'll never know. There were times I envied you, times I thought you were dead..."

"And times you wished I was dead."

She thought a moment, then replied, "No. I was angry, but I prayed for your safety." She added, "There were times, though, I wished I was dead."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay now." She added, "I've been sleeping with a man I don't love for twenty years. That's a sin. But I will sin no more."

He didn't want to ask, but felt he had to and said, "Annie, why did you stay with him?"

"I ask myself that every day. I guess because of the children... family ties, community..."

"You mean if you filed for a divorce?.."

"I'd have to leave. He would get..."

"Violent?"

"I don't know. Anyway, I used to hope that he'd die. That someone would kill him. That's terrible. I hate myself for that."

"That's all right. You don't have to wait for someone to kill him now."

She didn't reply, and he thought she was considering the double meaning of what he said, so he added, "You can just leave him."

"I will." She didn't ask for his help or any assurances from him but said, "Maybe I was sort of waiting for you. I always knew you'd come back. But I don't want anything from you, no promises to take care of me, and no offers to take care of him. I want to do this myself. Now that my daughter is in college, I can leave."

"Well, you know I'm going to help, so..."

"Keith, he's dangerous."

"He's bush-league."

She picked herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. "If anything happened to you, I swear I'd kill myself. Promise me you won't confront him."

The phone rang, and Annie said, "That's my aunt."

Keith picked it up. "Hello."

"Well, I thought I saw lights in your house. How'd you get home?"

"Who is this?"

"Officer Ward. Just checking on you. You tucked in?"

"Sure. Had enough fun for one night."

"I didn't. I'm not a happy man tonight."

"I'm not here to make you happy."

Annie leaned over and put her ear near the phone. Keith turned away from her and said into the mouthpiece, "Don't call here again." He hung up.

She asked, "Who was that?"

"Car salesman."

She looked at him and was about to say something when the phone rang again. Keith picked it up. "Yes?"

A female voice with an old-fashioned midwestern twang said, "Mr. Landry?"

"Speaking."

"This is Mrs. Sinclair, Annie Baxter's aunt."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Annie said she might stop by your place for a minute on her way home."

Keith smiled at the strain in Aunt Louise's voice. He said, "She stopped by for less than a minute, Mrs. Sinclair. Never got out of the car. We chatted about farm prices through the screen door for about fifteen seconds..."

Keith felt a punch on his arm and heard Annie laugh and whisper, "Stop that."

Keith continued, "Then she left for home, lickety-split."

"I figured she'd be on her way home, and that's just what I told Mr. Baxter when he called here looking for her. She should be home shortly, I said."

"I in sure she will be, Mrs. Sinclair."

"It was real nice talking to you, Mr. Landry. You take care."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair. I appreciate the call." He hung up.

Annie rolled on top of him and pressed her nose against his. "You're funny."

"So's your aunt. Is she up to this?"

"Barely. I had to bring a bottle of dandelion wine when I stopped by." She laughed and kissed him, then rolled off and onto the floor. "Have to go." She walked naked out of the room, and Keith heard the water in the bathroom running.

He got out of bed and began to dress, sticking the Glock under his shirt.

She came back and said, "I can see myself out." She gathered her clothes and threw them on the bed. "I don't want to get dressed. I want to be naked for you all night, all week."

"Sounds good to me."

She put her bra on, then pulled her sweater over, sat on the bed, and slid her panties and socks on.

He observed, "You still dress from the top down."

"Doesn't everyone?" She pulled her jeans on, then her shoes. She stood. "Okay. You're walking me down?"

"That's what a gentleman does."

They walked down the stairs together, hand in hand, and she kept glancing at him, then said, "Can you believe this?"

"Hardly."

"I feel like a kid again. I haven't had a rush like this since... well, since you."

"That's very nice of you."

"I mean it. My heart is still pounding, and my legs are rubbery."

"And your face is flushed, and your eyes are on fire. Be careful when you get home."

"Oh..." She put her hand to her face. "Yes, I will. God, do you think?.."

"Just recreate in your mind a night with Aunt Louise. By the time you get home, you'll be fine."

"Okay..." She laughed and said, "But what if I still have semen running down my leg?"

Keith smiled. He remembered that one of the things he liked about her was the totally unexpected raunchiness that sometimes came out of that prim and proper mouth.

They walked to the kitchen door, and she opened it. "Keith, what are we going to do?"

"You name it, I'll do it."

"You love me?"

"You know it."

She smiled. "Was I a good lay? I can't believe I said that. Bye. I'll call you."

He held her arm. "No."

"I have to go."

"I know. But... your husband's men sometimes watch this house."

"Oh..."

"They didn't see you come in because they weren't watching earlier, or if they were, they saw me leave and followed. I'm going to leave first, and if they're watching, they'll follow me. You wait ten minutes, then leave."

She stayed quiet a moment, then said, "This is awful..." She looked at him. "Keith, I'm sorry. I can't put you through this..."

"This is not your fault. It's his fault. I can handle this. But can you handle this?"

She nodded. "For you, yes."

"All right. Now, remember — you were at Aunt Louise's all night. Stick to that story no matter what."

She nodded.

He asked, "What are you driving?"

"A Lincoln Continental. White."

"Ten minutes."

"Be careful, Keith."

He went out the door, got into his Blazer, waved to her, and went down the long drive to the road. He turned toward town and continued on a few miles until he got to an intersection and stopped.

There were no headlights behind him, and he continued on. He spotted a half-collapsed barn, shut off his headlights, and turned off the road onto the dirt track that led to the barn and nudged the Blazer into the collapsed timbers.

He got out and watched the road. After about five minutes, he saw headlights approaching at a high speed from the direction of his farm. He knelt behind some brush and waited.

The car tore past him, but he could make out the shape of a light-colored Lincoln Continental.

He waited ten more minutes, then went back to his Blazer and drove toward home.

He couldn't be sure she was safe, but if Baxter questioned her and she stuck to her story, she'd be okay.

He had the unsettling feeling that he was enjoying this, that this was an adrenaline rush. But so what? Fun was whatever you did best.

And he had no doubt that Annie enjoyed the intrigue to a point. She'd always been like that when they were trying to find times and places to make love. She got a kick out of the danger, the romance, the stolen fruit which always tasted better.

Yet, tonight, he had seen real fright in her eyes. She was brave, spunky, and willing to take a risk. But when getting caught was not just a matter of getting expelled from school or getting grounded forever, but of getting beaten or killed, then this took the fun right out of it. He realized he had to resolve this quickly.

He thought about her, about their lovemaking and pillow talk, and knew that they were together again. They'd traveled the miles and the years and, against all odds and all obstacles, they'd wound up in his old bedroom, naked in each other's arms. Body and soul were satisfied, the flesh trembled, the spirit soared, the heart sang. For the first time in weeks, months, Keith Landry found himself happy and smiling.

Cliff Baxter got to work early and called Kevin Ward into his office. He asked Ward, "Okay, what happened at St. James last night?"

Officer Ward cleared his throat and replied, "Well... they had a full house."

"Yeah? You get plate numbers?"

"Well... got some."

"Some? What the fuck do you mean some?"

"Chief... uh... that guy Landry."

"Yeah?"

"Well... he was there..."

"Yeah? I ain't surprised."

"Yeah... he kind of gave us a hard time."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Ward cleared his throat again and related what happened, trying to put the best spin on it, but clearly Chief Baxter was not happy.

Baxter listened as Ward spoke, saying nothing. Finally, when Officer Ward finished reporting, Baxter said, "You mean to tell me, Ward, that one guy and one old preacher ran you off?"

"Well... they... I mean, it was the preacher's property and all, and if it was just Landry, hell, we would've run his ass in, and..."

"Shut the hell up. Okay, get me a make on the plates you did manage to get before you got evicted from the premises."

"Right, Chief."

"And get your balls put back where they belong. We're goin' out to Landry's place later."

"Yes, sir." Ward stood and went to the door.

Baxter said, "Next time I give you a job to do and it don't get done, maybe you want to think about goin' back into the fertilizer business with your daddy."

Ward hesitated, then said, "Chief, it might've helped if you were there with us. I mean, it wasn't legal what we were doing..."

"Get the hell out of here."

Ward left.

Cliff Baxter sat at his desk and stared at the wall awhile. He understood that things were starting to come apart. He looked at the framed photo of Annie on his desk and said, "Bitch."

He kept looking at her photograph and recalled last evening. She'd gotten home after him, and he'd waited for her in the kitchen. They hadn't said much to each other, and she went right to bed, saying she had a headache. He'd gone out to her car and tried the mobile phone. She hadn't answered any of his calls, but the phone worked fine. Still, you never knew with these car phones. On the other hand, she'd seemed weird last night, and he would have pushed her a little, but he had some checking to do first, and he knew not to ask questions until he already had answers.

Somewhere in the back of Cliff Baxter's mind was the important fact that his wife was smarter than he was. But smart people, he'd discovered, sometimes were too smart, too cocky, too sure of themselves, and they thought their bullshit didn't stink. He nodded to himself and said, "Aunt Louise. I ain't seen Aunt Louise in a while."

Cliff Baxter glanced at his watch and saw it was seven A.M. He picked up the phone and dialed.

Tim Hodge, the postmaster of Spencerville, answered in a sleepy voice, "Hello..."

"Hey, Tim, I wake you?"

"Yeah... who's this?"

"Let go of your cock and grab your socks, the mail must go through."

"Oh... hey, Chief, how you doing?"

"You tell me."

"Oh..." Tim Hodge cleared his throat. "Well... yeah, I went out to St. James last night..."

"You better have. What happened?"

"Well... let's see... they... uh... they had a crowd..."

"I know that. My name come up?"

"Yeah... yeah, it did. Matter of fact, it came up a bunch of times."

Baxter nodded. "Come on, Tim, I'm a busy man. Give me the who, what, where, when, and how."

"Yeah, okay. Well, the city council lady, Gail Porter, kind of led the meeting. Her husband was there, too, and they had... like a lot of witnesses."

"Witnesses? Was this a fucking meeting or a trial?"

Tim Hodge didn't reply immediately, then said, "Well... they had some people there who had a few... kind of complaints against you."

"Like who?"

"Like Bob Aries's wife, Mary, and some woman named Sherry... some weird last name."

"Kolarik?"

"Yeah."

Shit. "What did she say?"

"Which one?"

"Both of them. What did those lyin' bitches say?"

"Well... Mary went on about you taking things from the store, you know, and signing off on more gas than was pumped..."

"Fuck her. What did the other bitch say?"

"Well... something about... she sort of said that you... like you and her... like you had something going."

Jesus Christ. "You mean this bitch got up there in front of all those people in church... and lied about... what'd she say?"

"She says you fucked her. Been fucking her for some time. That you paid her parking fines or something, and that, to pay you back, she had to fuck for you." Hodge added, "She got real detailed."

"Lying bitch."

"Yeah."

"People believin' that?"

"Well... I don't."

"Hey, why don't you stop by this afternoon for some coffee and tell me what you seen and heard last night. About three. Meantime, don't spread no gossip yourself, and keep your ears open."

"Right, Chief."

Baxter hung up and stared out the window onto Main Street. "Goddamnit!" He slammed his fist on the desk. "Goddamned bitches, can't trust any of them to keep their damned mouths shut."

He thought about how this development was going to affect him and decided he could keep it under control. Sherry Kolarik was a whore, the worst kind of witness. Mary Aries was another problem, but he'd get her husband to put a zipper on her big mouth real quick. Baxter wondered what else had come up at that meeting. He pulled a piece of paper toward him and began a list, writing the name Keith Landry, followed by Sherry Kolarik, then Mary Aries, then Gail Porter, then the other Porter whose first name he didn't remember, then hesitantly, he wrote "Pastor Wilkes," then thought a moment and added Bob Aries's name for good measure. He'd have written Annie's name, too, except that she always had the honorary first position on his weekly list of people who pissed him off.

He poured himself a cup of coffee from a thermos jug and sipped on it. Things were definitely getting out of control. This wasn't just a bad week, it was the start of a bad life unless he started to kick some ass.

He stood and went out into the office where Ward was entering the list of license plate numbers into the motor vehicle computer and getting names and addresses printed out. Baxter said, "Turn that fucking thing off."

Ward exited the file, and Baxter asked him, "You got a report on Landry's movements last night?"

"Sure do." Ward handed Baxter a typed sheet of paper, and Baxter glanced at it.

Baxter said, "Krug saw him leave his house at seven-thirty P.M., then you and Krug and the other guys saw him in the parking lot at St. James at eight thirty-five."

"Right. The meeting was still going on, but I guess he left early."

"Then what?"

"Well, then Landry went into the parsonage with Pastor Wilkes. I drove out to Landry's place and waited on 28 a couple hundred yards from his driveway, but I never saw anybody pull in. But then I noticed lights on upstairs, and I called him on the mobile phone, and he answered. Don't know how he got there unless he came in from the south, using the tractor roads. He must've been scared, you know, figuring we were laying for him." Ward added, "It's all there in the report."

Baxter glanced at the paper again and said, "You called him at ten thirty-eight and he answered?"

"Yup."

"He could have been home about an hour already."

"Could have. Depends on how long he stayed with Wilkes, and where he went after that. Like I said, I think he took the long way home. He was scared."

"Yeah. You really scared him. You see any other car goin' in or comin' out of his farm?"

"Nope."

"You stick around after you called him?"

"No, because it looked like he was in for the night. But about an hour later, I drove by again, and his light was still on upstairs. What are you thinking, Chief?"

"Nothin'. I'll be at the Park 'n' Eat for breakfast."

"Okay."

Cliff Baxter left police headquarters and walked the half mile down Main Street to the east end of town and entered the Park 'n' Eat at seven-thirty A.M.

He took his customary table, and an older waitress named Lanie came over and said, "How're you this morning, Chief?"

"Just fine."

"Coffee?"

"Sure thing."

She poured him a cup of coffee from a carafe and asked him, "Need to look at the menu?"

"Nope. Ham, two eggs over easy, home fries, biscuits, no toast, and no juice."

"You got it." She started to walk away, but Baxter said, "Hey, where's Sherry this morning?"

Lanie replied, "Called in sick."

"Yeah? Friend of mine saw her last night."

Lanie smiled. "Maybe too much partying."

"Nah. This guy saw her at church. St. James, out by Overton." Baxter studied the waitress's face, but clearly she didn't know anything.

"I'll get those eggs going for you."

"Yeah. Hey, if she comes in or calls, tell her I'm lookin' for her. We got to talk about some parking fines."

Lanie's smile dropped, and she nodded and moved off.

Breakfast came, and Cliff ate. Nearly everyone who came in greeted him, and he tried to guess who knew what at this early hour.

One of the city councilmen, Chet Coleman, who was also a pharmacist, came in and saw him. Coleman sat down opposite Baxter and, without any preliminaries, said, "Hey, Chief, you know about that meeting at St. James?"

"Heard about it."

"Yeah, while we were having our council meeting, those folks were bad-mouthing us."

"No shit?"

"I didn't like what I heard."

"How'd you hear?"

"Well... had a friend there."

"Yeah? A friend who stayed up late to call you, or a friend who got up early to call you?"

"Uh... this morning..."

"Yeah? Friend couldn't be named Mrs. Coleman, could it?"

Chet Coleman didn't respond to that, but he didn't have to.

Baxter said, "You know, Chet, this whole goddamned country is getting out of control. You know why? Pussies. When the men can't control the pussies, you might as well kiss the whole country goodbye."

"Yeah... well, there were a lot of men there, too, and from what I hear..."

"Let me give you some advice, Mr. Councilman. If your wife winds up on the wrong side of this thing, it ain't gonna look good for you in November, and it ain't gonna look good for your business ever." Baxter stood, threw a few dollars on the table, and left.

It was eight forty-five A.M. now, and there were cars and people on Main Street, not as many as there'd been twenty years ago at this hour, but enough so that Cliff Baxter felt like he was walking through his domain, greeting his subjects like a prince who'd stepped out of the palace to check out the mood of the populace. Most people seemed their usual selves, but now and then someone seemed to be avoiding him or looking at him funny.

Cliff Baxter stopped and spoke to a few citizens, shook a lot of hands, chatted with shopkeepers opening for business, tipped his hat to women, and even walked old Mrs. Graham across the street.

He lingered in front of police headquarters awhile and greeted everyone who walked by, calling most of them by name, joking with Oliver Grebbs, the bank president, about Oliver embezzling money to keep a mistress and both of them knowing the embezzlement was a joke, but the mistress wasn't.

He looked across the street at the courthouse where the city employees were walking through the park to go to work. At some point today or tomorrow, he knew, he'd have to go see the mayor.

Cliff Baxter couldn't get a sense of how the wind was blowing this morning, but he had the feeling that it was like an early north wind, gentle at first, almost imperceptible, so that it took a while to realize the warm west wind wasn't blowing anymore. In fact, it was calm, quiet, and only a few people noticed that the wind had changed direction.

Police Chief Baxter turned and went into police headquarters, where Sergeant Blake, at the front desk, greeted him with forced nonchalance.

Baxter walked into the inner office and said to Ward, "We ride at ten."

Baxter went into his office and closed the door. He went to the window and looked out at Main Street, the park, the courthouse, his world. A lesser man, he told himself, would be worried. But he felt he had his hands around enough prominent balls to hang on. But if he couldn't hang on, he'd take a whole lot of people down with him, starting with the short list on his desk and moving on to the longer list in his files.

In a way, he associated all this bad shit with the arrival of Keith Landry, though he knew this had been brewing a long time. Still, if he could get rid of Landry, at least one of his problems would be out of the way. Then he'd go for Gail Porter, not to mention Sherry Kolarik, the bitch, and Mary Aries, and any other women who thought they had more balls than Cliff Baxter. Then he'd go for the men if he had to. Basically, people frightened easily, he knew; there were no heroes left, only cowards who sometimes got together and thought they were heroes. He didn't think he had to kill anybody, only frighten them half to death — and if you frightened somebody half to death, twice, they were a hundred percent frightened to death.

Keith woke at seven A.M., and the first thing on his mind was Annie.

Things were a little more clear now: They had made love, they were in love. He wasn't leaving. He wanted to stay, to make a life here with her, sit on the front porch with her and watch the sun go down.

But he knew she wouldn't stay if Cliff Baxter was still here, and she really didn't want her husband dead now that she had another option. But that option was to run off together, and Keith didn't want to run.

He lay, staring at the ceiling. It took him a while to realize he smelled her scent on the sheets.

It was a warm day, and he worked in the barn bare-chested. He wondered when and how they'd meet again, when they could make love again. He realized that he could take her away with probably no more than a few days' notice, and all this worry and fear would be behind them. They could be in Paris in less than a week. He wondered if she had a passport. No problem. He could get one for her within twenty-four hours. There were people who owed him favors.