Read Unspeakable Online

Authors: Sandra Brown

Tags: #Crime, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Mystery Fiction, #Psychological

Unspeakable (28 page)

BOOK: Unspeakable
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"Well, anyway, he's Arkansas' problem now. Cecil's got more on his mind than Blewer and the people in it. I've certainly had no indication that he and Carl are headed this way."

"You had no advance warning that Cecil was coming yesterday, either."

"The FBI is in constant contact with this office, Ezzy. First sign of trouble, we'll be up to our armpits in federal agents."

"All the more reason to swear in as many local boys as possible."

"But there's been no sign—"

"There's no telling what those crazy sons of bitches might do." Seeing that Foster was becoming impatient and hearing the desperation in his own voice, he forced a little laugh and shrugged with faked nonchalance. "It wouldn't hurt, would it, to have an extra pair of eyes watching out for them?"

"No, it wouldn't hurt. I just don't think it's necessary." Foster smiled, and it was as phony as Ezzy's laugh had been. "You know better than anyone how strained this office's budget is."

"You wouldn't have to pay me." Jesus, please don't force me to beg to this pup. Although he figured that since he'd taken to lying so well, Jesus might turn a deaf ear to his prayer. To appear less eager, he leaned back in his chair, propped his foot on his knee, and hung his hat on the toe of his boot. "It was just an idea, you understand. Wanted you to know I was available if the need for an extra man arises."

The young sheriff stood and rounded the desk, indicating to Ezzy that the visit was concluded. He was being dismissed, just as he had been by the prosecutor in Arkadelphia all those years ago. The world belonged to younger, stronger men.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate your offer, Ezzy. But I wouldn't dream of calling you back into public service. You've earned your retirement. Every hour of rest and relaxation you can get, you should take and enjoy.

"Besides," he said with a chuckle, "Miss Cora would never speak to me again if I drafted you into active duty." He slapped Ezzy on the shoulder as a means of propelling him through the door he pulled open. "Good to see you. Thanks for stopping by." The door was soundly closed behind Ezzy's back. He glanced at the dispatcher, who quickly averted his eyes to the paperwork on his desk. He was embarrassed for the old man who just didn't know when to hang it up.

With what dignity he could muster, Ezzy put on his hat. "See ya, Souder."

"Yeah, see ya, Ezzy. Take care now."

Ezzy trudged down the sidewalk, wishing he could wind back the clock and rethink his decision to come here and ask for a job.

Sure, sure, it would have been rejuvenating to be in on a tri-state manhunt. Being back with the guys on a stakeout, bullshitting about nothing to stave off boredom and the jitters, drinking bad coffee—it had been an appealing pipe dream.

But it wasn't just the return to that camaraderie that had jump-started him. It went much deeper than that. In the back of his mind, he had thought that maybe if he helped to apprehend the Herbolds now, even if his contribution was small and inconsequential, it might assuage his conscience for not getting them the first time.

He should have known better. Life didn't work like that. If you failed to catch a pop fly that lost your team the World Series, no matter what else you did in your career, that screwup was what you were best known for.

By going to Foster all he had succeeded in doing was humiliating himself. He didn't blame Foster for not embracing the idea. It wasn't a very practical one. The acting sheriff had been courteous. He had phrased it in the politest terms possible, but in essence what he said was

"Nobody needs you, Ezzy."

Sadly, he was right.

CHAPTER TWENTY–NINE

S
ix Flags has this roller coaster that makes you go upside down. Twice! Mom thinks I might be too little to ride it, but I'm not, am I, Jack?"

"There'll probably be a sign that tells how tall you have to be."

"I think I'm tall enough."

"You'll have a great time."

"Can you come, too, Jack?"

"No, I won't be there. Want to take along your dinosaur book for the time you're not at Six Flags?"

"Yeah, cool."

Jack placed the book in the suitcase on top of the folded shorts and T-shirts. He ran down the list of essentials that Marjorie Baker had given him over the telephone. "That's everything. We won't latch it, though, until your mom gets here. She might want to add something at the last minute." The interpreter had called on Anna's behalf with the good news that Delray was being transported to Dallas by helicopter that night. Anna and David would go by car in the morning. By the time they arrived, Delray would be awaiting bypass surgery. Marjorie had graciously offered to accompany Anna to facilitate her communication with medical personnel and baby-sit David when necessary.

For David, it would be a grand adventure. In exchange for minding well and not whining when he was at the hospital, he had been promised a trip to the theme park in neighboring Arlington. Well acquainted with its attractions through television and print advertising, he hadn't stopped talking about it. Throughout the afternoon, during dinner and bath time, he had chattered nonstop.

Jack's opinion of mothers had gone up several notches. The good, loving, patient ones who did this day after day deserved sainthood. He was tired, and not a little concerned because Anna was driving home alone after dark. He suggested to David that he go to bed early. "That way, you'll be rested up for your trip."

"But I'm not tired, Jack," the boy protested. "And I don't have to go to bed till the little hand's on the eight."

Jack was beat. He longed to lie down and stretch out. The hours he'd spent following Cecil Herbold yesterday had taken their toll on him. Today he'd stayed busy catching up on the chores he had let slide yesterday, while also tending to David, which he had discovered was a full-time job.

But the little hand wasn't on the eight yet. "Okay then, how about a game of Old Maid?" They played at the kitchen table while eating chocolate sundaes. David won three games straight. Jack couldn't keep his mind on the game for worrying about Anna. The Herbold brothers had outdone themselves today in a small town in Arkansas. Cecil's long round-trip to Blewer the day before hadn't left him too tired to participate in a bank robbery that had left four innocent people dead.

Despite the extensive and well-organized manhunt, he and his brother remained at large. Cecil knew that Delray was in the hospital and that his daughter-in-law and grandson were at the ranch alone except for the hired hand. Jack couldn't think of a good reason why they would risk recapture by coming here. But it hadn't made sense for Cecil to appear yesterday, either. He didn't like it.

"How come they didn't use metal?"

"Who?"

"Are you listening, Jack?"

"Sure I'm listening. I was just trying to figure how I can get you to draw the Old Maid."

"I play good."

"You sure do."

"When the Indians made knives like yours, how come they didn't use metal?"

"Because they didn't have it. They used materials they had, like stone and obsidian."

"What's obsindium?"

"Obsidian. Volcanic glass."

"Glass from a volcano? Cool!"

"Hmm."

"How does a volcano make glass, Jack?"

And if Cecil or Carl came here, what would he do? What could he do without creating a shitstorm for himself?

"Jack?"

"Uh, I don't know, David."

"I thought you knew everything."

"No. Not near everything."

David won that game and they shuffled the deck. David dealt. "You know the other day when I had to pee and you said it was okay if I peed outside, only not to make a habit of it?"

"Hmm."

"And we both peed?"

"Hmm."

"My mom said—"

"You told your mom?"

"Sure."

"Great," Jack said under his breath.

"Mom said the same as you. It was okay in a 'mergency, but not if there was a lady around."

"Good advice. Listen to your mother." He had the Old Maid again.

"And I asked her if my penis would ever get as big as yours." Jack's head came up. "What?"

"She said it would but I had to grow up first."

"What's that?"

"You know, Jack." David rolled his eyes. "Your penis."

"No," Jack said, holding his hand for silence. "I heard something."

"That's Mom's car."

Man and boy scrambled through the utility room and out the back door. David was in a rush because he thought it was his mother. Jack hurried because he feared it wasn't. But it was Anna's car. David bounded down the steps, talking and signing at the same time.

"Mom, Mom, guess what? My suitcase is all packed and I'm ready to go to Dallas. What time are we leaving tomorrow? As soon as I wake up, or do we have to eat breakfast first? Jack let me ride one of the horses today. He held the reins and led it around the corral, but I got to sit in the saddle all by myself, and don't worry 'cause I held on real tight to the saddle horn and didn't fall off. My dinosaur book is in my suitcase, too. I already took my bath and we're playing Old Maid."

How much of that Anna understood, Jack couldn't guess. She got out of her car and knelt down to hug her son close. Then she lifted him off the ground and hugged him even tighter. David wrapped his legs around her waist and returned her hug, his small hands patting her back. Jack's eyes connected with Anna's over the boy's shoulder.

And he knew.

Eventually David wiggled free and she released him, letting him slide to the ground. "We had sundaes and Jack let me pour the Hershey's on it. I didn't spill any. I can make you a sundae if you want one, Mom, 'cause I know how."

She signed to him. David told Jack, "She says some other time, but not tonight. She's tired."

"Then I think we'd better get her inside." As they went in, Jack tried to catch Anna's eye again but she avoided looking directly at him.

In the kitchen, she took a carafe of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass. David was still chattering. "Guess what we had for dinner, Mom? Hot dogs. Jack makes good hot dogs. He's going to teach me how to play checkers so I can surprise Grandpa when he comes home."

Anna's smile slipped. Quickly she turned to place her empty juice glass in the sink.

"Know what, David?" Jack said. "I think she's tuckered out. I know I am. What say we all go to bed? Why don't you walk your mom upstairs? I'll lock up before I leave."

"The sooner I go to bed, the sooner I can get up, right, Jack?"

"You bet."

David slipped his hand into Anna's. "Come on, Mom. I'll take care of you." Anna stroked his cheek, but David seemed not to notice the tears shining in her eyes.

"Good night, Jack."

"Sleep tight, David. See you in the morning."

Jack cleaned up the sticky sundae dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. He left the kitchen to take some damp dish towels into the utility room. When he returned, he was surprised to see Anna there.

She looked weary and fatigued, her spirit as whipped as her body. She had removed her sandals and pulled her shirttail from the waistband of her skirt. Her makeup had worn off, and her eyes looked watery, red, and weak.

"Delray...?"

She gave a slight nod, then moved soundlessly toward one of the cabinets. Jack intercepted her.

"Whatever you want, sit down and let me get it."

That she consented so readily indicated just how exhausted she was. She took a seat at the kitchen table, reaching for her notepad and pen. "What would you like?" When she pointed to a tea canister, Jack filled the electric kettle and plugged it in.

He brought a cup and saucer to the table and sat down across from her. "Did you tell David?" Sighing, she shook her head and made the sign for sleep.

"I think you made the right decision. Tomorrow's soon enough." She wrote that David would be disappointed that the trip to Six Flags was canceled. Jack gave her a rueful smile. "Well, he's a kid."

"Thank you for staying with him today."

"No problem."

"I had no idea I'd be away so long. I—"

Jack reached across the table and took the pen from listless fingers. "I enjoy David. I didn't mind staying with him. I'm glad I could help."

She signed " Thank you. "

Jack signed " You're welcome."

The telephone rang. He pointed toward it and asked if she wanted him to get it. " Please. "

"Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Sawyer?"

"Yes."

"It's Marjorie Baker. I'm calling to see if Anna made it home safely."

"Just a few minutes ago."

"How is she?"

"About like you'd expect. Very tired."

"Would you give her a message for me? Tell her I placed a call to a funeral director. She and I have an appointment at nine in the morning."

BOOK: Unspeakable
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