The Devil's Punchbowl (81 page)

Magnolia Queen,
there was already a homing device on his car. Quinn tracked him sometimes to see if he was at Linda’s apartment. Ben Li woke up and called Quinn to warn him just after Tim left the casino. Quinn and a couple of goons tracked Tim up to the cemetery in a security van. Then they switched on a cell phone jammer and started hunting. They found Tim’s car right away. They left one guy guarding it, then fanned out through the graveyard. Tim must have been hiding the DVD in the tree about then.”

 

“Because he couldn’t find me.”

 

Caitlin pauses, then nods in sober agreement. “After he hid the disc, Tim somehow got back to his car and overpowered the guard, then took off for town. But Quinn had already called for help. The second vehicle blocked the road, so Tim turned and headed out Cemetery Road as fast as he could.”

 

“That’s when he made the voice memo in his phone.”

 

“Right. The plan he mentioned in his memo was simple. He ran his car off the cliff into the Devil’s Punchbowl and dived out at the last second. He was trying to make them think he’d spun out and killed himself.”

 

“Why didn’t it work?”

 

“Think about it.”

 

This takes only a moment. “Dogs.”

 

“
Dog,
singular. The backup team had brought Sands’s Bully Kutta in the second vehicle. Tim hid in the woods across the road from the Punchbowl, but he didn’t have a chance with that monster hunting him.”

 

“My God,” I whisper, remembering the massive white dog pinning me to the wall of my house.

 

Caitlin closes her eyes. Recounting this is obviously a struggle for her. “The dog mauled Tim pretty badly, as you saw. But the real torture happened in the backseat of the SUV. They were taking him back to the
Queen
to question him with electricity, but naturally Quinn couldn’t wait. He beat Tim with a club to subdue him, then started on him with a cigarette.” She wrings her hands as though unsure what to do with them. “Quinn told Linda a lot of horrible
things, but I think he was just trying to make her suffer. Tim was only in the SUV for a couple of minutes. At least I hope he was.”

 

“A couple of minutes of fire is more pain than most people can imagine.”

 

Caitlin pulls her jacket tighter around her. “Tim had passed out by the time they reached the bluff—or so they thought. But just as they passed Bowie’s Tavern, he exploded off the seat and started hitting everyone in sight. Then he grabbed his cell phone and jumped out of the SUV.”

 

“Where the witnesses first saw him.”

 

“I doubt Tim even knew where he was when he started running.”

 

My throat constricts when I think of Tim giving his last reserves of strength to escape his torturers. By then he must have been thinking only of Julia and his son. But now I remember Logan telling me that Tim tried to call me just before he went over the bluff. This memory brings blood to my face and tears to my eyes.

 

“It was Quinn who chased him?” I whisper.

 

“Yes. I think Quinn panicked. They switched on the jammer to stop Tim from calling anybody, but Quinn wasn’t sure he could get Tim back into the vehicle before a crowd gathered. That’s why he shot him.”

 

“They would have killed him in the end anyway.”

 

“Yes.” Caitlin reaches out and touches my hand. “Penn, there’s a reason I told you this story. I wouldn’t want you to have that stuff in your head unless I thought it was necessary.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You blame yourself for Tim’s death. I know it. I don’t think you could have done what we did at the lake unless you did.”

 

My throat is so tight that breath can hardly pass through it. She’s right. When Kelly shoved Quinn off the boat, I didn’t protest because I had focused all my guilt and self-disgust on him. But Quinn’s death has not lightened
my
guilt—or eased my suffering.

 

“Look at me,” Caitlin says. “Sit down and look at me.”

 

I do.

 

“You think Tim died because you were late for that meeting.”

 

“Didn’t he?”

 

“No. He died because he put himself into a situation he didn’t understand, with some very bad people. Only one thing would be
different today if you had showed up at the cemetery on time. You’d be dead too.”

 

“You don’t know that. I had a gun with me.”

 

Caitlin shakes her head. “Don’t kid yourself. You and Tim were no match for Quinn, his gang, and that dog. You were lucky to get off the
Queen
alive the other day, and you were only fighting Sands.”

 

She’s right again. “I know that. My real mistake was letting Tim go forward at all. I knew what could happen when—”

 

“Stop,” she says sharply. “You have to stop. You’ll drive yourself crazy. Do you want me to spend the rest of my life torturing myself for not saving Linda?”

 

“You couldn’t have—”

 

“
Stop.
You have to let go, Penn. Now, out here, today. And I mean all of it. Tim, Quinn, everything. When you start this boat again, we’re going to leave it behind us, in the river.”

 

She stands and comes to my seat, then pulls my head against her abdomen and runs her fingers through my hair. I haven’t been this way with her in so long that a dizzying feeling comes over me.

 

“Are you still planning to resign?” she asks softly.

 

When I don’t answer, she says, “Paul Labry must have mentioned your talk with him to someone before he died, because the rumor’s already spreading.”

 

“I know. Drew asked me about it when I called to borrow this boat.”

 

Caitlin steps backward and looks down expectantly. “Well?”

 

She’s waiting for me to say yes. Hoping for it. I can see that as plainly as the sun over the river. But from the moment Kelly gave me his Mark Twain speech on the bluff, I’ve been questioning my decision. Surprisingly, my father gave me his blessing only a day after Kelly left. The two had evidently discussed my dilemma, and Dad was aware that my reluctance to disappoint him had already kept me in office longer than I might have stayed otherwise. He told me that, considering all that had happened, he wouldn’t think less of me if I felt I had to step down. I don’t know if he meant that, but he said it, and he said it knowing that if I resigned, I would probably move Annie to a new town far away. But yesterday, as I watched two black men in overalls lower Paul Labry’s casket into the earth not far
from Tim’s grave, I knew with utter certainty that if I resigned, I would think less of myself for the rest of my life.

 

“It would be wrong to quit now,” I say in a shaky voice. “I wish that weren’t the case. But I made a commitment to the town. I made promises, and people believed me. If Paul were still alive, I might feel differently. But now…as badly as I want to go away with you, I don’t feel I should leave the job in the hands of those most likely to get it.”

 

Caitlin’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, then she turns to her right, looking out over the water. She’s hiding tears.

 

“Was that a no?”

 

Despite my best intentions, the truth emerges when I speak. “No. No matter what it costs me, I can’t lose you again. I can’t do it.”

 

She raises a hand to her face and wipes her eyes. “Then I’ll stay.”

 

The words don’t quite register at first. “You don’t mean that.”

 

She turns to face me, her green eyes wide and filled with resolve. “I do. I’ll stay until the end of your term. For two years, I’ll use all my power to make this town worthy of Tim’s death, and of what you’ve worked for. I’ll fight to make it a place where I can feel good about Annie living and going to school.”

 

Blinking in disbelief, I feel the first rush of euphoria that comes with the knowledge that life is granting you the grace of a dream realized. “Caitlin, you don’t—”

 

“Wait a second. I have one condition.”

 

“What? We leave town after my term is up?”

 

Her face tightens with irritation. “Would you let me talk?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

Holding up two fingers, she gestures at me like the beautiful schoolteacher of some little boy’s dreams. “After two years, we look hard at what we’ve accomplished, then reassess where we are.”

 

“Of course. Absolutely.”

 

“That wasn’t my condition. That’s a given.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She lowers her hand and squares her shoulders like a woman about to walk to the end of a very high diving platform. “My condition is that you marry me.”

 

At first I think she’s joking, but I’ve never seen her look more serious.

 

“Don’t fall down with joy,” she says.

 

“I’m shocked, that’s all. The way you’ve been acting for the past few days—”

 

“Penn, you’re the dumbest smart man I’ve ever met. Annie needs a mother, not a girlfriend hanging around year after year.”

 

The depth of her commitment hits me like a sudden pitch of the boat. “I agree,” I say softly.

 

“She needs a sister too. Or a brother, if that’s the best we can do. I’m thirty-five, and I’m not getting any younger.”

 

The laughter I hear is mine. “You’re moving pretty fast, aren’t you?”

 

“Have you ever known me to move any other way?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, then,” she says, her face still severe. “You should probably kiss me now.”

 

Reaching out, I take her hand and pull her toward me. For the first time in a year and a half, this intimacy is not a dream or a memory, but real. She hesitates, then spreads her palm flat on my chest and smiles with such intensity that her eyes shine.

 

“I’ve missed you,” she says. “I’ve missed you so much.”

 

“Why didn’t you let me know?”

 

“Because it was everything or nothing. It had to be.”

 

Before I can speak again, she leans forward and brushes her lips against mine. This close, her scent is overwhelming. Taking her in my arms, I kiss her as I longed to the first time we were ever alone, and she melts against me. When she finally pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright and wet.

 

“Do you remember our first time?” she asks.

 

“The party at that surgeon’s house. In the garden. Before the Del Payton case broke.”

 

“Does it feel the same to you?”

 

“Yes. No. As good as that was, this is better.”

 

She closes her eyes as though saying a silent prayer. “Was that your first kiss after your wife died?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’ve always wondered that.”

 

“You must have known.”

 

She opens her eyes and touches my right cheek with her finger. “I thought it was. I wanted to think it. That’s why I never asked.”

 

Over Caitlin’s shoulder, I see a long string of barges pushing around the north bend of the river. “When can we tell Annie?” I ask, moving behind the wheel and starting the engine.

 

“Today. It’s long overdue.”

 

“What about asking your father’s permission, all that?”

 

“We’re pretty old for that, aren’t we? He’d love it, of course.”

 

“It’s the right thing. In this case, anyway.”

 

Spying the barges, Caitlin stows the empty urn, then sits in the passenger seat. “Do whatever you want about that. But I’m about to surprise you.”

 

“Oh, God. Are you pregnant? With a little filmmaker?”

 

She smacks me on the shoulder hard enough to bruise. “It’s about the wedding.”

 

“Let me guess. No fuss, no church, just a quick trip to Fiji or somewhere.”

 

“Boy, you
are
dumb. I want the church, the dress, engraved invitations, a string quartet, the whole thing. I know it’s all bullshit, but I want it anyway.”

 

“I literally can’t believe that.”

 

She smiles broadly, elated at having surprised me. “If I’m going to stay in Mississippi, I’m taking the good with the bad. Come on, let’s go before that barge runs us over.”

 

Putting the boat into gear, I push the throttle forward, make a wide turn, and head downstream.

 

“The day we get married,” she says above the roar of the wind, “I’m going to pour a glass of champagne into this river. Don’t let me forget.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“I mean it.” She takes my hand, then pulls out her ponytail holder and lets the wind fling her dark veil of hair behind her. “Do you know how lucky we are?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She intertwines her fingers in mine.

 

The ski boat skims the surface of the river, bouncing gently as we make for the distant landing at Silver Street. High above us, the city stretches along the rim of the bluff from the homes of Clifton Avenue to the gazebo where a kissing couple watched Tim die. Past the highway cut and the bridges stands the Ramada and the Briars,
where Jefferson Davis was married, and then the land descends to the lumber mill and the sandbar near the old Triton Battery site, where Hans Necker will someday build his recycling plant.

 

We’re less than a mile from the landing when my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. Expecting Annie, I’m surprised to see my mother’s cell number on the LCD screen. She only uses the thing in emergencies, so my pulse quickens at the sight.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Penn, it’s Mom.”

 

The way she said my name reveals the stress she’s under. “What is it? What’s happened?”

 

“Are you driving?”

 

“Mom, what’s the matter?”

 

“Your father had a heart attack.”

 

I close my eyes, preparing for the worst. “Is he alive?”

 

Caitlin clenches my hand, and I tell her what’s happened.

 

“He’s at St. Catherine’s Hospital,” Mom goes on. “I’m on my way there now. Drew used the office defibrillator on him. Tom probably would have died without it.”

 

“Is he conscious?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is Annie still with the babysitter?”

 

“Yes. I didn’t want to scare either one of them.”

 

“Caitlin and I are on the river, but we’ll pick up Annie and get to the hospital as fast as we can. Thirty minutes, max.”