Checking the Traps, page 24
part #3 of Isabel Long Series
“Then, this stuff could’ve been his.”
“Yes, it could’ve. But it doesn’t tell us what might’ve happened afterward.” I reach in my backpack for an envelope. “Gary, I wanna show you a letter I found in that box you gave me. It was stuck under a flap at the bottom. Here. Read the letter inside.”
He removes the letter from the envelope and unfolds the paper. He silently mouths the words his brother wrote. His eyes flick up at me before he reads the letter again. He swallows.
“So, it’s possible.”
“I’ve been going over several scenarios. That’s always one.”
Neither of us say the word suicide. We don’t have to.
“Yeah.”
He slips the letter back into the envelope.
“Why don’t you keep it?” I tell him.
“Just hold onto it for me,” he says as he hands me the envelope. “I’m gonna bury this stuff.”
We’re both silent while he tosses the bottles back into the hole along with the cigarette filters and covers the mess with dirt. We stay silent when he hoists the shovel back onto his shoulder, and we hike back to the pickup truck.
Larry gets out of the passenger seat when his brother throws the shovel onto the bed. He’s got crumbs on the front of his shirt. He’s helped himself already to that banana bread. Gary notices, too.
“Hope you didn’t touch my bread, asshole,” he says.
Larry ignores him.
“Find anythin’?” he asks.
Gary doesn’t answer. He’s on the driver’s side of the truck, reaching in through the open window for the pack of smokes on the dashboard.
“Just pint bottles and some cigarette filters,” I say.
“That all?” Larry says.
“Uh-huh.”
“Sounds like a complete waste of time.”
I’m about to say, “Not really,” but instead I step closer to the truck’s bed when a pickup truck makes its way up the road’s steep incline and stops in front of me. A U.S. Post Office sign is on the driver’s door. A woman with a friendly smile is behind the wheel. I make an educated guess Sue Lehman is back on her mail route in this part of Titus. It’s been a while, but I recognize her.
“Isabel Long?” she asks me.
“How are you doing, Sue Lehman?”
“Right as rain,” she jokes. “Heard you’ve been lookin’ for me.”
“I have.” I gesture toward the Beaumont brothers. “You’ve met Gary and Larry Beaumont?”
“Sure do. Hey, fellas. So, Isabel, what can I tell you?”
“Gary’s hired me to find out what happened to his brother, Cary.”
She nods.
“Yeah, that’s what I was told. Too bad. He was a real nice guy.”
“It’s probably a stretch, but people keep saying there’s a chance you might’ve seen something on your route that day he died.”
She gives me an amused smile.
“You don’t need me for that. Larry here must’ve told you everything. He was with Cary that day. I saw them together. Remember, Larry?”
What? I turn fast toward Larry. So does his brother. No, Larry didn’t tell us a damn thing all this time.
Larry doesn’t make eye contact with either of us.
Now, I have a dilemma. I’m surprised as hell, of course, at this revelation, but I don’t want Sue to think Gary and I are a couple of dumbbells. I glance again at Larry. He is stone-faced.
“Yes, of course,” I lie to Sue. “I was just wondering if you knew anything else that he might’ve missed. I’m still trying to piece together all the details.”
“Sorry. I wish I could help, but I can’t think of anything. Hey, I gotta finish my route. See you around.”
The back tires on Sue’s pickup truck kick up some gravel as she takes off.
“What the fuck” are the first words out of Gary’s mouth. “Larry, you never tol’ me you were here that day with Cary. You knew all along what went down and you never said nothin’?” Gary tosses the butt and charges around the pickup toward his brother. “Shit, I’m gonna kill ya for that.”
“Hey, asshole, leave me the hell alone.”
Larry bolts across the road and through the woods. Gary follows him. He hasn’t stopped yelling.
Now what? Nothing good is going to come from this revelation. But Gary is absolutely right. Why hide something like this for so long?
I pat my sling. To hell with it, I’m right behind these guys and doing my best to find them in these woods.
The Whole Truth
I move as fast as I can, which obviously is not fast enough to catch the two brothers. And if I somehow did, then what? Tackle Larry to the ground? Stop Gary from killing his brother? Are you nuts? I only want to find out what happened to Cary Moore. But now, I’ve lost them somewhere in these woods. I no longer hear shouting or thrashing through the underbrush. My guess is that Larry is hiding and hoping his brother doesn’t find him. He can’t stay holed up here forever though. I mean where’s the guy gonna go? He lives with his brother, for God’s sake.
I stay where I am and listen.
I walk, stop again, and listen more.
I walk again.
“There you are,” Gary yells.
But then, I realize he’s staring behind me, and when I turn, Larry’s there, breathing hard. Gary darts forward, but before I can get out of their path, Larry grabs me from behind. His right arm wraps around me.
“Hey, you’re hurting me.”
“Shut the fuck up, Isabel.” Larry steps backwards, pulling me with him. “Stay back, Gary. I mean it.”
Gary makes a move as if he’ll come closer, but thankfully, he stays where he is.
“Jesus, Larry, let her go.”
“Hey, asshole, keep your big mouth shut for once.”
Larry drags me backwards with him. It makes no sense to resist even if I weren’t wearing this sling. His brother follows slowly and silently from a distance. I can’t see where we’re going, but I feel rock beneath my feet. I hear the river’s waters below. Shit, we’re on the cliff.
Think, Isabel, think.
“Larry, you okay?”
“Okay? What the hell you talkin’ about? No, I’m not okay. What’d ya think?”
Jesus, Isabel, that wasn’t smart. Think some more. How do you calm a guy down that’s got you locked in his grip on a cliff?
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have hurt Cary. It had to have been an accident. But you were here. You saw what happened.”
“Yeah, it was an accident. But nobody would’ve believed me. Nobody.”
“I would’ve.”
His left hand sweeps forward. He points at his brother.
“Stay the hell back, Gary,” he yells. “You say that now, Isabel. But you’re gonna tell the cops all about it.”
We take a few steps backward. I’m wondering how close we are to the edge.
“Why should I? It wasn’t a crime.”
“Yeah, right.”
I nod at Gary, who stops.
“Cherie said Cary got a phone call that day,” I say. “Was that from you?”
“Yeah, we were gonna straighten out that guy you keep talkin’ about. That poet. I called Cary about somethin’. I don’t remember what. But Cary told me that guy was gonna give him a lot more money. I wanted to make sure, so I said I’d meet him here. He was okay with that.”
“Cyrus Nilsson did a dishonest thing.”
“Look at that house of his. The guy’s loaded.”
My eyes are on Gary, who mercifully stays put.
“You came to help your brother.”
“Sure did.”
“You two were drinking here?”
“Yeah, and I brought this along.”
That’s when Larry pulls out a handgun. Don’t ask me where he had it. Don’t ask me what kind of gun. All I know is that it shoots bullets, and it’s scaring the hell outta me. My heart beats hard and loud. I’m practically bawling. Larry holds me in a tight grip.
“You only wanted to show Cyrus you mean business.” My voice breaks in places. I can’t help it. “You weren’t gonna use it on him. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“How did Cary feel about that?”
“He asked me to come along for backup, but the pussy chickened out when I showed him the gun. I wasn’t gonna listen to him.” He gives the gun a shake. “This is the way to take care of things.”
Gary speaks.
“For Christ’s sake, don’t do somethin’ stupid.”
“Don’t do somethin’ stupid,” Larry mimics his brother. “That’s me all right. The stupid one. It’s always been that way. That drunk Cary could never do nothin’ wrong. Right, Gary? Not me. I do nothin’ right. What’d ya gotta say now, big brother?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Gary softens his voice. “How about lettin’ Isabel go? This is between you and me. You’re scarin’ her.”
Larry brushes the gun’s barrel against my cheek.
I can’t even breathe.
“Am I scarin’ you, Isabel?”
“Yes, you’re scaring me. Could you please put the gun away?”
“Funny. That’s what Cary said. And when I wouldn’t, he tried to take it from me.”
“That man who lives here said he heard a gunshot.”
“Yeah, I took a shot for the hell of it. Cary started yellin’ at me cause of it. Callin’ me all kinds of names. Tellin’ me I was a loser. I couldn’t take that from him.” He makes a stuttering gasp. “We started goin’ at it on these rocks over here. We were both pretty drunk, so we was stumblin’ around and punchin’ each other. One time… That was when he went too close to the edge. I tried to grab him. I really did. Our fingers even touched, but I couldn’t… he went over so fast.” His voice keeps breaking. “His body was layin’ down below there on the rocks. His head was a mess. I could tell he was dead. I found a way to climb down there to make sure. He was dead all right. His head was split open from the rocks… I… I just pushed his body in the river and got the hell outta there. I caught a ride from some guy on the road.”
Larry sobs. I feel his body shake against mine.
“I didn’t want him to die,” he says. “Honest.”
Gary is now a few feet from us. He shakes his head.
“You should’ve said somethin’,” he says.
Larry doesn’t answer. His breath stutters.
Gary holds out his hand.
“Let go of Isabel and give me the gun. What ya say, brother?”
Larry and I take another step backwards. Shit, if he goes over the cliff, I’m going with him. But he releases his grip. He gives me a shove forward. I wobble, but stay on my feet. When I turn toward Larry, he’s staring at the waters below. I can read his mind. So, can his brother because Gary is hollering, “No,” as he rushes forward. He grabs his brother’s arm and drags him away from the edge of the cliff. He takes the gun from his hand and tosses it away. He wrestles him to the ground.
Larry struggles, but Gary’s got him good.
“Leave me alone,” he yells.
But his brother says, “Like hell I will.”
Coming to Terms
Annette and Marsha make their grand entrance through the Rooster’s front door. They’re greeting everybody in their path as if they’re politicians at a rally.
“Hey, Jim, how’s it goin’?” Annette says as she backslaps one of the True Blue Regulars.
The two women make a straight shot to the bar.
“Isabel, you still wearing that damn sling?” Marsha asks.
“Until Monday. What can I get you ladies?”
Annette snorts.
“What’d ya think? And after that, you’d better get outside. Two scumbags are waitin’ for you in the parkin’ lot.” She fishes for money in the pocket of her jeans. “They wanna talk about somethin’ important I gather.”
“Gary and Larry Beaumont?”
Annette jabs a finger in the air.
“Folks, we’ve got ourselves a winner.”
When I left the Beaumonts this afternoon, Larry was crying in his brother’s arms. Gary was crying, too. They didn’t need me. But I needed my mother to pick me up. I touched Gary’s shoulder and told him so. He only nodded.
I called Ma on my cell phone as I walked to the bridge. Paul Roberts, the ranger, stopped to ask if I needed any help, but I waved him on.
Ma, of course, was in heaven, taking in all the details on the ride back. In the end, she praised me for my bravery.
“But it wasn’t a murder after all,” I told her.
“Do all your cases have to end in murder?” she asked. “A man died, and you figured out how that happened. Wasn’t that what Gary hired you to do?”
Yes, but now I have a problem. What do I tell people who’ve heard I’ve been investigating this case? Not to sound like a total egotist, but maybe they’ll think it should have ended in a big bang like the others. It almost did, but I don’t know if I can share that part of this story.
But there has to be a way to set the record straight. Cary Moore was not just another poor soul who jumped from the bridge in Titus.
Naturally, Ma gave good advice.
“If they ask, tell them it was definitely an accident, that he slipped and fell from the cliff. There was a witness, and if they want to learn more, they can ask his brother, Gary. I doubt if anybody would. But you should tell what happened to that police chief we met and Lin Pierce. It’s up to you if you want to bring up the part about the gun, but Larry might get in trouble with the cops for that.”
I check the other side of the barroom, where Jack talks with customers. Tonight’s band, Wild Fire, is setting up. You guessed it. The musicians are all volunteer firefighters. I lean backward to peek through the kitchen window. Lisa is busy cleaning up. We’ve said at most five words to each other since I came to work, and that’s just fine with me.
I walk to the end of the bar, where Jack’s cousin, Fred sits. I crook my finger.
“Would you mind covering for me for a few minutes? I have to take care of some business outside.”
Fred eyes Annette, his ex-wife. I smile. The father of her son, a total mystery to him and just about everybody else, waits outside. You gotta love the small world of the hilltowns. One day, I might draw up a chart on who’s related to whom whether it’s by blood, marriage, sex, or any other connection.
“It’ll cost you,” Fred says.
“Let me guess. A beer and a shot?”
He slips off the stool.
“Works for me.”
I am out the door, searching for the brothers. The nearly full moon makes it easy to find them in the parking lot. I wipe my right hand on my apron as I greet them.
“I can’t stay out here too long. What’s up?”
Gary elbows his brother.
“Go ahead.”
Larry’s head is down then up.
“Sorry, Isabel.” He swallows hard. “I hope I didn’t hurt ya too much.”
“I’m alright, Larry. What about you?”
He shrugs, and then his head is down again. That’s all I’m gonna get from Larry, but I’m fine with it.
Gary hands me a thick envelope.
“Here’s the rest of the money I owe you,” he says. “Thanks for figurin’ it out.”
I almost feel guilty taking the money, but, yeah, I did figure it out.
“I do have some good news for the both of you,” I say.
Gary winces.
“Good news?” he says.
“Just before I came here, I got a phone call from Cyrus Nilsson, the poet. He was at that writer’s conference I told you about. He says he’s found a publisher who’s interested in putting out a small book of Cary’s poetry. He wants to call it Country Boy. I told him Cary wrote enough for more than one book, but we’ll see. I need to talk with Cherie about it. I just didn’t have the time tonight.”
How do I describe the expression on Gary’s face? I can’t.
“This that guy who stole his poems?” he asks.
“I think he’s trying to make up for it. He’s gonna write the introduction.”
Gary glances at his brother.
“You tell him about today?”
“No, I haven’t figured that out yet. You and I need to talk about a few things another time.”
“We’re on our way to see Cherie next.” He nods toward his brother. “Larry’s gotta talk with her, too. He needs to explain things.”
I sigh. This will certainly be a test of that woman’s faith.
“Why don’t you tell her about the book? It might help.”
Gary stares past me. I glance back. Jack is standing on the front stoop. His arms are crossed. Larry sees him, too, and walks away.
“This ain’t gonna be easy for Larry. Him knowin’ and not sayin’ all this time. No wonder he was ticked off when I hired you. But Cherie deserves to hear it.” Gary pauses. “You plannin’ to press charges?”
“Against Larry? That’s one of the things I wanted to talk with you about. But now that you’ve brought it up, how about getting your brother some help instead? He needs it.”
Gary squints.
“Shit, Isabel, I’d owe you one for that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
And with a grunt good-bye, Gary heads for his pickup.
I make my way back toward the Rooster. Jack meets me between two parked cars. Of course, I told him most of what happened today. As to be expected, he wasn’t thrilled.
“What was that all about?” Jack asks.
I lift the fat envelope.
“Just business and an apology.”
Behind us the band, Wild Fire, is cranking up the first song of the night, “Ramblin’ Man,” by the Allman Brothers. The Rooster’s customers are rushing the floor.
Jack wraps an arm around me.
“I felt like sluggin’ those guys,” he says. “Yeah, yeah, you made me promise. At least you’re done with those idiots.”
For now, perhaps, I tell myself.
“So, is this the right time for whatever you were gonna tell me?” I ask.
Jack’s got an amused grin on his face.
“Not really, but I guess it’ll have to do. Isabel, I… ”
Just then, the Rooster’s front door slams open. Jack’s cousin, Fred, whistles sharply.
“Yes, it could’ve. But it doesn’t tell us what might’ve happened afterward.” I reach in my backpack for an envelope. “Gary, I wanna show you a letter I found in that box you gave me. It was stuck under a flap at the bottom. Here. Read the letter inside.”
He removes the letter from the envelope and unfolds the paper. He silently mouths the words his brother wrote. His eyes flick up at me before he reads the letter again. He swallows.
“So, it’s possible.”
“I’ve been going over several scenarios. That’s always one.”
Neither of us say the word suicide. We don’t have to.
“Yeah.”
He slips the letter back into the envelope.
“Why don’t you keep it?” I tell him.
“Just hold onto it for me,” he says as he hands me the envelope. “I’m gonna bury this stuff.”
We’re both silent while he tosses the bottles back into the hole along with the cigarette filters and covers the mess with dirt. We stay silent when he hoists the shovel back onto his shoulder, and we hike back to the pickup truck.
Larry gets out of the passenger seat when his brother throws the shovel onto the bed. He’s got crumbs on the front of his shirt. He’s helped himself already to that banana bread. Gary notices, too.
“Hope you didn’t touch my bread, asshole,” he says.
Larry ignores him.
“Find anythin’?” he asks.
Gary doesn’t answer. He’s on the driver’s side of the truck, reaching in through the open window for the pack of smokes on the dashboard.
“Just pint bottles and some cigarette filters,” I say.
“That all?” Larry says.
“Uh-huh.”
“Sounds like a complete waste of time.”
I’m about to say, “Not really,” but instead I step closer to the truck’s bed when a pickup truck makes its way up the road’s steep incline and stops in front of me. A U.S. Post Office sign is on the driver’s door. A woman with a friendly smile is behind the wheel. I make an educated guess Sue Lehman is back on her mail route in this part of Titus. It’s been a while, but I recognize her.
“Isabel Long?” she asks me.
“How are you doing, Sue Lehman?”
“Right as rain,” she jokes. “Heard you’ve been lookin’ for me.”
“I have.” I gesture toward the Beaumont brothers. “You’ve met Gary and Larry Beaumont?”
“Sure do. Hey, fellas. So, Isabel, what can I tell you?”
“Gary’s hired me to find out what happened to his brother, Cary.”
She nods.
“Yeah, that’s what I was told. Too bad. He was a real nice guy.”
“It’s probably a stretch, but people keep saying there’s a chance you might’ve seen something on your route that day he died.”
She gives me an amused smile.
“You don’t need me for that. Larry here must’ve told you everything. He was with Cary that day. I saw them together. Remember, Larry?”
What? I turn fast toward Larry. So does his brother. No, Larry didn’t tell us a damn thing all this time.
Larry doesn’t make eye contact with either of us.
Now, I have a dilemma. I’m surprised as hell, of course, at this revelation, but I don’t want Sue to think Gary and I are a couple of dumbbells. I glance again at Larry. He is stone-faced.
“Yes, of course,” I lie to Sue. “I was just wondering if you knew anything else that he might’ve missed. I’m still trying to piece together all the details.”
“Sorry. I wish I could help, but I can’t think of anything. Hey, I gotta finish my route. See you around.”
The back tires on Sue’s pickup truck kick up some gravel as she takes off.
“What the fuck” are the first words out of Gary’s mouth. “Larry, you never tol’ me you were here that day with Cary. You knew all along what went down and you never said nothin’?” Gary tosses the butt and charges around the pickup toward his brother. “Shit, I’m gonna kill ya for that.”
“Hey, asshole, leave me the hell alone.”
Larry bolts across the road and through the woods. Gary follows him. He hasn’t stopped yelling.
Now what? Nothing good is going to come from this revelation. But Gary is absolutely right. Why hide something like this for so long?
I pat my sling. To hell with it, I’m right behind these guys and doing my best to find them in these woods.
The Whole Truth
I move as fast as I can, which obviously is not fast enough to catch the two brothers. And if I somehow did, then what? Tackle Larry to the ground? Stop Gary from killing his brother? Are you nuts? I only want to find out what happened to Cary Moore. But now, I’ve lost them somewhere in these woods. I no longer hear shouting or thrashing through the underbrush. My guess is that Larry is hiding and hoping his brother doesn’t find him. He can’t stay holed up here forever though. I mean where’s the guy gonna go? He lives with his brother, for God’s sake.
I stay where I am and listen.
I walk, stop again, and listen more.
I walk again.
“There you are,” Gary yells.
But then, I realize he’s staring behind me, and when I turn, Larry’s there, breathing hard. Gary darts forward, but before I can get out of their path, Larry grabs me from behind. His right arm wraps around me.
“Hey, you’re hurting me.”
“Shut the fuck up, Isabel.” Larry steps backwards, pulling me with him. “Stay back, Gary. I mean it.”
Gary makes a move as if he’ll come closer, but thankfully, he stays where he is.
“Jesus, Larry, let her go.”
“Hey, asshole, keep your big mouth shut for once.”
Larry drags me backwards with him. It makes no sense to resist even if I weren’t wearing this sling. His brother follows slowly and silently from a distance. I can’t see where we’re going, but I feel rock beneath my feet. I hear the river’s waters below. Shit, we’re on the cliff.
Think, Isabel, think.
“Larry, you okay?”
“Okay? What the hell you talkin’ about? No, I’m not okay. What’d ya think?”
Jesus, Isabel, that wasn’t smart. Think some more. How do you calm a guy down that’s got you locked in his grip on a cliff?
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have hurt Cary. It had to have been an accident. But you were here. You saw what happened.”
“Yeah, it was an accident. But nobody would’ve believed me. Nobody.”
“I would’ve.”
His left hand sweeps forward. He points at his brother.
“Stay the hell back, Gary,” he yells. “You say that now, Isabel. But you’re gonna tell the cops all about it.”
We take a few steps backward. I’m wondering how close we are to the edge.
“Why should I? It wasn’t a crime.”
“Yeah, right.”
I nod at Gary, who stops.
“Cherie said Cary got a phone call that day,” I say. “Was that from you?”
“Yeah, we were gonna straighten out that guy you keep talkin’ about. That poet. I called Cary about somethin’. I don’t remember what. But Cary told me that guy was gonna give him a lot more money. I wanted to make sure, so I said I’d meet him here. He was okay with that.”
“Cyrus Nilsson did a dishonest thing.”
“Look at that house of his. The guy’s loaded.”
My eyes are on Gary, who mercifully stays put.
“You came to help your brother.”
“Sure did.”
“You two were drinking here?”
“Yeah, and I brought this along.”
That’s when Larry pulls out a handgun. Don’t ask me where he had it. Don’t ask me what kind of gun. All I know is that it shoots bullets, and it’s scaring the hell outta me. My heart beats hard and loud. I’m practically bawling. Larry holds me in a tight grip.
“You only wanted to show Cyrus you mean business.” My voice breaks in places. I can’t help it. “You weren’t gonna use it on him. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“How did Cary feel about that?”
“He asked me to come along for backup, but the pussy chickened out when I showed him the gun. I wasn’t gonna listen to him.” He gives the gun a shake. “This is the way to take care of things.”
Gary speaks.
“For Christ’s sake, don’t do somethin’ stupid.”
“Don’t do somethin’ stupid,” Larry mimics his brother. “That’s me all right. The stupid one. It’s always been that way. That drunk Cary could never do nothin’ wrong. Right, Gary? Not me. I do nothin’ right. What’d ya gotta say now, big brother?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Gary softens his voice. “How about lettin’ Isabel go? This is between you and me. You’re scarin’ her.”
Larry brushes the gun’s barrel against my cheek.
I can’t even breathe.
“Am I scarin’ you, Isabel?”
“Yes, you’re scaring me. Could you please put the gun away?”
“Funny. That’s what Cary said. And when I wouldn’t, he tried to take it from me.”
“That man who lives here said he heard a gunshot.”
“Yeah, I took a shot for the hell of it. Cary started yellin’ at me cause of it. Callin’ me all kinds of names. Tellin’ me I was a loser. I couldn’t take that from him.” He makes a stuttering gasp. “We started goin’ at it on these rocks over here. We were both pretty drunk, so we was stumblin’ around and punchin’ each other. One time… That was when he went too close to the edge. I tried to grab him. I really did. Our fingers even touched, but I couldn’t… he went over so fast.” His voice keeps breaking. “His body was layin’ down below there on the rocks. His head was a mess. I could tell he was dead. I found a way to climb down there to make sure. He was dead all right. His head was split open from the rocks… I… I just pushed his body in the river and got the hell outta there. I caught a ride from some guy on the road.”
Larry sobs. I feel his body shake against mine.
“I didn’t want him to die,” he says. “Honest.”
Gary is now a few feet from us. He shakes his head.
“You should’ve said somethin’,” he says.
Larry doesn’t answer. His breath stutters.
Gary holds out his hand.
“Let go of Isabel and give me the gun. What ya say, brother?”
Larry and I take another step backwards. Shit, if he goes over the cliff, I’m going with him. But he releases his grip. He gives me a shove forward. I wobble, but stay on my feet. When I turn toward Larry, he’s staring at the waters below. I can read his mind. So, can his brother because Gary is hollering, “No,” as he rushes forward. He grabs his brother’s arm and drags him away from the edge of the cliff. He takes the gun from his hand and tosses it away. He wrestles him to the ground.
Larry struggles, but Gary’s got him good.
“Leave me alone,” he yells.
But his brother says, “Like hell I will.”
Coming to Terms
Annette and Marsha make their grand entrance through the Rooster’s front door. They’re greeting everybody in their path as if they’re politicians at a rally.
“Hey, Jim, how’s it goin’?” Annette says as she backslaps one of the True Blue Regulars.
The two women make a straight shot to the bar.
“Isabel, you still wearing that damn sling?” Marsha asks.
“Until Monday. What can I get you ladies?”
Annette snorts.
“What’d ya think? And after that, you’d better get outside. Two scumbags are waitin’ for you in the parkin’ lot.” She fishes for money in the pocket of her jeans. “They wanna talk about somethin’ important I gather.”
“Gary and Larry Beaumont?”
Annette jabs a finger in the air.
“Folks, we’ve got ourselves a winner.”
When I left the Beaumonts this afternoon, Larry was crying in his brother’s arms. Gary was crying, too. They didn’t need me. But I needed my mother to pick me up. I touched Gary’s shoulder and told him so. He only nodded.
I called Ma on my cell phone as I walked to the bridge. Paul Roberts, the ranger, stopped to ask if I needed any help, but I waved him on.
Ma, of course, was in heaven, taking in all the details on the ride back. In the end, she praised me for my bravery.
“But it wasn’t a murder after all,” I told her.
“Do all your cases have to end in murder?” she asked. “A man died, and you figured out how that happened. Wasn’t that what Gary hired you to do?”
Yes, but now I have a problem. What do I tell people who’ve heard I’ve been investigating this case? Not to sound like a total egotist, but maybe they’ll think it should have ended in a big bang like the others. It almost did, but I don’t know if I can share that part of this story.
But there has to be a way to set the record straight. Cary Moore was not just another poor soul who jumped from the bridge in Titus.
Naturally, Ma gave good advice.
“If they ask, tell them it was definitely an accident, that he slipped and fell from the cliff. There was a witness, and if they want to learn more, they can ask his brother, Gary. I doubt if anybody would. But you should tell what happened to that police chief we met and Lin Pierce. It’s up to you if you want to bring up the part about the gun, but Larry might get in trouble with the cops for that.”
I check the other side of the barroom, where Jack talks with customers. Tonight’s band, Wild Fire, is setting up. You guessed it. The musicians are all volunteer firefighters. I lean backward to peek through the kitchen window. Lisa is busy cleaning up. We’ve said at most five words to each other since I came to work, and that’s just fine with me.
I walk to the end of the bar, where Jack’s cousin, Fred sits. I crook my finger.
“Would you mind covering for me for a few minutes? I have to take care of some business outside.”
Fred eyes Annette, his ex-wife. I smile. The father of her son, a total mystery to him and just about everybody else, waits outside. You gotta love the small world of the hilltowns. One day, I might draw up a chart on who’s related to whom whether it’s by blood, marriage, sex, or any other connection.
“It’ll cost you,” Fred says.
“Let me guess. A beer and a shot?”
He slips off the stool.
“Works for me.”
I am out the door, searching for the brothers. The nearly full moon makes it easy to find them in the parking lot. I wipe my right hand on my apron as I greet them.
“I can’t stay out here too long. What’s up?”
Gary elbows his brother.
“Go ahead.”
Larry’s head is down then up.
“Sorry, Isabel.” He swallows hard. “I hope I didn’t hurt ya too much.”
“I’m alright, Larry. What about you?”
He shrugs, and then his head is down again. That’s all I’m gonna get from Larry, but I’m fine with it.
Gary hands me a thick envelope.
“Here’s the rest of the money I owe you,” he says. “Thanks for figurin’ it out.”
I almost feel guilty taking the money, but, yeah, I did figure it out.
“I do have some good news for the both of you,” I say.
Gary winces.
“Good news?” he says.
“Just before I came here, I got a phone call from Cyrus Nilsson, the poet. He was at that writer’s conference I told you about. He says he’s found a publisher who’s interested in putting out a small book of Cary’s poetry. He wants to call it Country Boy. I told him Cary wrote enough for more than one book, but we’ll see. I need to talk with Cherie about it. I just didn’t have the time tonight.”
How do I describe the expression on Gary’s face? I can’t.
“This that guy who stole his poems?” he asks.
“I think he’s trying to make up for it. He’s gonna write the introduction.”
Gary glances at his brother.
“You tell him about today?”
“No, I haven’t figured that out yet. You and I need to talk about a few things another time.”
“We’re on our way to see Cherie next.” He nods toward his brother. “Larry’s gotta talk with her, too. He needs to explain things.”
I sigh. This will certainly be a test of that woman’s faith.
“Why don’t you tell her about the book? It might help.”
Gary stares past me. I glance back. Jack is standing on the front stoop. His arms are crossed. Larry sees him, too, and walks away.
“This ain’t gonna be easy for Larry. Him knowin’ and not sayin’ all this time. No wonder he was ticked off when I hired you. But Cherie deserves to hear it.” Gary pauses. “You plannin’ to press charges?”
“Against Larry? That’s one of the things I wanted to talk with you about. But now that you’ve brought it up, how about getting your brother some help instead? He needs it.”
Gary squints.
“Shit, Isabel, I’d owe you one for that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
And with a grunt good-bye, Gary heads for his pickup.
I make my way back toward the Rooster. Jack meets me between two parked cars. Of course, I told him most of what happened today. As to be expected, he wasn’t thrilled.
“What was that all about?” Jack asks.
I lift the fat envelope.
“Just business and an apology.”
Behind us the band, Wild Fire, is cranking up the first song of the night, “Ramblin’ Man,” by the Allman Brothers. The Rooster’s customers are rushing the floor.
Jack wraps an arm around me.
“I felt like sluggin’ those guys,” he says. “Yeah, yeah, you made me promise. At least you’re done with those idiots.”
For now, perhaps, I tell myself.
“So, is this the right time for whatever you were gonna tell me?” I ask.
Jack’s got an amused grin on his face.
“Not really, but I guess it’ll have to do. Isabel, I… ”
Just then, the Rooster’s front door slams open. Jack’s cousin, Fred, whistles sharply.
