The Devil's Punchbowl (82 page)

 

“Hurry, Penn. I talked to him for a few seconds. Tom said he has something important to tell you. He was very emphatic.”

 

“What’s that about?”

 

“I have no idea. He wasn’t completely coherent, but he sounded like he doesn’t think he’s going to make it.”

 

My father always hides pain, and my mother doesn’t exaggerate. This is not good news.

 

“Just hurry so he won’t be anxious about whatever it is.”

 

“I’m on my way, Mom. You pay attention to the road. We’ll be there before you know it.”

 

“Be careful.” When she clicks off, I press END and shove the throttle to the wall. The Bayrider leaps forward, then planes out and
begins to bounce on the river, jumping and smacking down like some great porpoise. “Damn it!” I curse.

 

Caitlin points toward Natchez Under-the-Hill. “We’re almost there. We’ll just tie up and run straight for the car.”

 

I nod, but I’d already made that decision, though it means risk for Drew’s boat. There’s no real dock at Silver Street, only a steep ramp. I’ll tie the thing to the Evangeline casino if I have to. Boiling with frustration, I slam my hand against the wheel. “It’s always something, you know?”

 

“What do you mean?” Caitlin asks.

 

“Whenever life gets too good, whenever fate hands you something wonderful, something else gets taken away.”

 

She squeezes my shoulder and shakes her head. “Stop thinking like that. For one thing, life hasn’t been that great lately. And for another, your dad’s not going to die.”

 

It’s a nice sentiment, but she has no idea what shape my father is in right now. He could be dead already. “You don’t think this could have something to do with what we just went through, do you? With Sands or Po?”

 

“No. Absolutely not. This is just life, okay? But it’s going to be all right this time. I know it, Penn. We’re together again, and Tom’s not going to die on us.”

 

“He seems to think he is. He told Mom that he has something important to tell me.”

 

Caitlin absorbs this in silence. “Well, we have something important to tell him too. We’ll tell him before we tell Annie. You know how that news will make him feel.”

 

“You’re right,” I admit, picturing the scene. My father wanted me to marry Caitlin a week after he met her. “He’ll be the happiest, apart from Annie.”

 

“He will. Now, keep thinking that.” Caitlin hugs me tightly from the side. “Okay?”

 

“Okay.” With shaking hands, I turn the wheel and point the boat toward the Silver Street landing.

 

Toward home.

 

 

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

 

None of my novels could be written without the generous help of many friends and acquaintances. Mimi Miller of the Natchez Historic Foundation and Stanley Nelson of
The Concordia Sentinel
were especially helpful this time around. Stanley is a fine local historian, and some of his articles are available online. Natchezians are always happy to help with my research, even though the fictional city that sometimes results seems a less than desirable place to live. We who live here know the truth, and wouldn’t live anywhere else. This time around, I want to thank: Judge George Ward; Sally Durkin; Mayor Jake Middleton; former mayor Tony Byrne; Chief Mike Mullins; Major Jody Waldrop; Keith Benoist; Kevin Colbert; Billy Ray Farmer; Jim Easterling; Don Estes; Mike Wheelis, M.D.; and helicopter pilot John Goodrich.

 

Thanks to the usual suspects on the personal support side: Jerry Iles, M.D.; Betty Iles; Geoff Iles; Jane Hargrove; and Courtney Aldridge.

 

Thank you, Ed Stackler, for midwifing most of this one into being during a long and stressful October. Thanks to novelist Charlie Newton for his Las Vegas expertise. My warm gratitude also goes out to a few good people who shall remain nameless.

 

For being patient with this book, my heartfelt thanks to the crew at Simon & Schuster: Carolyn Reidy, Susan Moldow, Louise Burke, Colin Harrison, Dan Cuddy, and my buddy Gene Wilson out in Texas. Thanks also to Wayne Brookes at HarperCollins UK, and to the gang at S&S Canada, for a good time at Niagara Falls and great support year round.

 

Finally, thanks to Aaron Priest, Lucy Childs, and Lisa Erbach-Vance for holding down the left-brain stuff for right-brain guys like me.

 

To those readers who took the trouble to read this page: Penn Cage will be back next year. That wasn’t my intent, but what was originally meant to be half of this book grew into something far too important to be only part of a novel. So, enjoy!

 

For those considering a trip to Natchez, please be aware that at this time the city has only one riverboat casino in operation. During the writing of this novel, two more casinos were in the works, but the changing economy has affected those plans. I know that many of my readers travel to Natchez to see some of the sights depicted in my books, and I urge you to search the Web for accurate tourism information, which can vary quite a bit from the fictional world I’ve created for Penn Cage. That said, Natchez is a beautiful and mysterious place, and well worth the trip. The annual hot-air balloon festival is one of the highlights of the year, and while I have taken dramatic license with the scheduling of certain events, the three-day festival is truly spectacular.

 

Finally, all mistakes in this novel are mine.