The Hallows, page 25
“You raid The Sopranos’ wardrobe, Russell?”
He chuckled, and his two associates said something about seeing him tonight and left.
“Quite the bombshell for your star witness to change his testimony last minute like that.” He grinned. “I must admit your face was just priceless. I wish I could’ve taken a photo. It’d be nice to have that on the cover of the Miami Herald.”
“It ain’t over till it’s over.”
He shrugged. “What’s this I hear about your number two witness absconding? Do all of your players run off before the game even begins?”
I stepped close to him. “If I find out you had anything to do with that boy disappearing—”
“Please. This case should never have gotten this far. Don’t blame me because your reach exceeded your grasp. Face it, Tatum, prosecution just isn’t your thing. Leave it to the bureaucrats who don’t care if they get a conviction or not. Losing all the time will eat at you until there’s nothing left. Just a bit of friendly advice.”
“Here’s a bit of advice for you: if I find out you had anything, and I mean anything, to do with that kid taking off, I will personally make sure they take your bar license, and I’ll prosecute you myself.”
He smirked and tapped my shoulder. “You’re just adorable when you’re angry. Take care of yourself. We wouldn’t want you having a heart attack before the verdict comes back, now would we?”
He started to walk away and then said, “Ever wonder what dogs taste like? Like spicy beef.”
“What?”
“I heard you love dogs. I’ve eaten dog before. Got to butcher it myself before the meal. They taste like spicy beef. I’ll have to take you to this little restaurant in Saigon so you can try some.”
I watched him walk away and knew I was too angry to be rolling around in a dune buggy. I got a call from Will just then and I said, “Give me something.”
“Officer up near Fremonton saw a blue sedan with a Chicago Bulls sticker on the back pulled over on the side of the highway. He’s there now. I was going to head up and check it out before I called you.”
“Will, I could kiss you. I’m heading up to Fremonton. Keep me updated.”
“Hey, did you hear about Jia?”
“One emergency at a time. Meet me up there.”
“You got it.”
72
Fremonton was about twenty miles out of town. On the way up, I saw two Utah Highway Patrol cruisers pulled over on the side of the road with a blue sedan in front of them. The sedan was packed so tightly with clothes and knickknacks the back window was completely blocked out. Will was with the troopers.
“Found the car abandoned on the side of the road,” one of them said. “Looks like they took off on foot.”
I eyed the desert around us. Sand dunes for as far as I could see. “With a ten-year-old kid? Seems like that’d be a last resort.”
Will was looking into the windows of the car. He opened the door and searched inside for a second. “No keys.”
“Which means he probably planned on coming back. Someone might’ve picked them up here.” I stared out in each direction and saw a dirt path leading up over a hill. “Where’s that go?”
“Nowhere,” the trooper said. “Nothing really out here. Some abandoned shacks against them mountains, I guess.”
I looked to the car and walked over. Clothes, food, a computer and television, and several framed photos. Things someone would grab if they didn’t plan on coming back.
“He left everything,” I said.
“Maybe he saw one of the troopers?” Will said.
I thought a moment, then popped the hood of the car and went over to the engine. I took out the oil dipstick, undid the gas cap, and dipped it into the fuel tank. Only the very tip was wet.
“He ran outa gas.” The only conceivable path that he could’ve taken was the dirt trail. “Hope you can hike in your loafers.”
The troopers called for backup and one of them, a Trooper Smith, came with us, and we headed up the trail. Once we got over the hill, the sound of traffic faded, and there was nothing but a breeze blowing over loose sand.
An old farmhouse with a worn-out fence was up ahead about a quarter mile. It had an empty horse pen and a garage that looked like it was about to fall over.
“Why would he run up here?” Will asked. “He had to have known we’d search the place with his car right there.”
“He probably planned on stashing Lyle up here since he’d know the BOLO call would be for a man and a kid. Then he’d hitchhike or walk for gas somewhere.”
We stopped a couple hundred feet from the house. The windows were broken out, and the white paint had faded and chipped until there was almost none left. A welcome mat was visible in front of the door, covered in dirt and sand, the letters fading.
Trooper Smith said, “We should wait.”
I glanced back at him. “We should. But I have no idea what he’s going to do with that kid.”
“I can’t let you go in there. Sorry.”
I nodded, watching the house. It looked like a strong gust of wind could blow it over. “Let’s at least get a little closer while we wait.”
We walked toward the house a bit more before we heard something inside. The door opened and Roscoe stood there, a Glock in his hand. The trooper drew his sidearm, and I stepped in front of him, my arms out to show Roscoe I wasn’t armed.
“Roscoe, everyone needs to relax. We are not here to hurt you.”
“I didn’t want this.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. No one does.” I hesitated and bit my lip. “Where’s Lyle, Roscoe? Is he all right?”
“Of course he is.”
“Good. Why don’t you send him out here with us so he doesn’t get hurt? Then you and I can talk.”
He mumbled something, the gun still pointed at the ground. If he raised it even a little, the trooper would likely push me out of the way and fire.
“I’m scared, Tatum.”
“I know you are, pal. Listen, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you or Lyle.” I turned to the trooper. “Put your sidearm away.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Put your damn gun away, Trooper. Now!”
He eyed me and then lowered it but didn’t put it back in the holster. I turned to Roscoe and said, “Can I come in?”
Will was about to say something, and I held up my hand for him to be quiet.
“Just you.”
“Okay. I’m walking toward the house now. I’m unarmed, Roscoe.”
I approached, my heart like a drum in my ears. I undid my jacket and took it off, dropping it on the ground to make sure he could see I wasn’t armed. I kept my hands high as I approached. When I got to the door, he stepped to the side and let me in. He shut the door behind me. Some old furniture was inside, covered in dust and cobwebs.
“Where’s Lyle?”
“He’s safe. I would never hurt him. Hell, Tatum, what kind of person do you think I am?”
“The kind that kills young girls, apparently.”
“Is that what you think? That ain’t me. I would never hurt Patty.” He swallowed. “I loved her.”
“You loved her?”
He nodded. “We’d been together a long time. I would see her whenever I could. She said she loved me, too. That we would get married when she turned eighteen next year and run away together. She’d been saving money for it, too. I was broken when she died. Couldn’t work, couldn’t eat or sleep. You know how long it took me to be able to get outa bed again?”
“Then why’d you run?”
“When you came to the school, I knew you’d find out, and I would lose everything. I mean, forget prison, I’d be on the sex offender registry. I could never work as a teacher again, could never see Lyle again. I’d have to live with them scumbags in the trailer parks outside’a town ’cause that’s the only place there ain’t no kids . . . I don’t want that, Tatum. I’d rather die right here.”
“Easy, pal. No one’s dying today.” I took a deep breath and looked around the house. Rusted nails thrust out from the floorboards, and broken glass lay in front of all the windows. “Picked a helluva place for Custer’s Last Stand, didn’t ya?”
He sat down in an old chair, staring at the floor. The gun hung limply from his hand. “I ran outa gas. You believe that? You see in them movies people on the run, and they never stop to get gas. Little things are what always hurt ya in the end, ain’t they?”
I nodded. “They sure are.” I glanced at some stairs leading up. “Is Lyle upstairs?”
He nodded.
“Anderson’s eye, was that really his father?”
“I didn’t lie about that. Nathan Ficco is a sick son of a bitch. I tried to help Anderson out. If I hadn’t . . . I don’t know. Maybe what happened to Patty wouldn’t have happened.”
I stepped close to him. “Roscoe, give me the gun. The cops are on their way, and they’re going to be looking to shoot. Don’t die here. We can cut a deal. Maybe even keep you off the sex offender registry or do a reduced sentence or something. There’s no need for you to die. Especially since you’d be leaving that kid upstairs without a father.”
He nodded and laid the gun on the table next to him, his eyes wet with tears. I slowly made my way to the table and then picked up the gun. I let out a long breath and felt relief wash over me, my muscles like jelly.
“She didn’t love you, Roscoe. She was just trying to provide for her family. I’m sorry, but that’s what it was. You ruined your life for nothing.” I glanced up the stairs. “Roscoe, moment of truth, was it you with Anderson up at the Hallows burying her body?”
He looked up at me and was about to speak when something flew through the open space where a window had been. It sizzled and smoked. A flash grenade.
“Get down!”
The grenade popped and filled the room with acrid smoke. The door burst open. Several officers in full SWAT gear surged in. They tackled Roscoe and flung me to the ground.
73
A SWAT van, several UHP cruisers, and two units from the sheriff’s office waited below. They had cordoned off one lane of the highway, and I sat on the hood of a cruiser until I saw Lyle being led down. I hopped off the hood and went up to him.
“You okay, son?”
He nodded.
“We’re gonna get you back to your mom, okay?” I looked to the officer and nodded. Behind him I saw Gates speaking with a news crew from the local station. She saw me, said a few more words, and then came over.
“You okay?”
“Sure. Nothin’ like a giant’s knee in your spine to perk you up in the afternoon. Better than coffee.”
She grinned and wiped a bit of dirt from my face. “What the hell were you thinking going in there? You’re not a cop.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
She sighed and looked around. “What a mess. All because one man couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
“Hey, the Trojan War was started because one man couldn’t keep it in his pants.” I looked over to the SWAT van where they were loading Roscoe.
“What now?” I said.
“Now I’m going to offer a deal to him, Anderson, and Steven, and whichever cracks first and tells me what happened doesn’t get the death penalty. I’m sick of playing around. And we need to interview Lyle and see if he was covering for his dad being there the night of the murder. I have a feeling all three were involved in this.”
“I’m not sure Roscoe was. I got the feeling he actually thought he was in love.”
Will ran over. “Talked to Anderson’s ex again like you asked.”
“And?”
“He had motive,” Will said. “When I asked Bebe about Coach Mallory, she admitted Anderson knew he and Patty were sleeping together, and that Patty wanted to stop. The coach flipped out, and Patty threatened to report him for statutory rape if he didn’t leave her alone. Bebe said Coach Mallory started showing up everywhere, trying to hold Patty after class, catching her at the gym, standing outside her house in the middle of the night, stuff like that. Bebe said she didn’t tell us or the cops because the coach is a nice guy, whatever that means, and she didn’t want him to get into any trouble.”
“So the mayor showed up in Vegas and made a scene at the bar, but Roscoe was probably the stalker Diana told us Patty was scared of.”
“Jilted lover takes revenge,” Gates said.
“You could be right,” I said, “but I don’t see him torturing and killing her. For starters, there’s the blood in Anderson’s basement. Roscoe couldn’t have tortured someone in his own place without the neighbors hearing.”
“Anderson and Roscoe are the best bets, with Steven covering for them. Steven played football for four years under Roscoe, and so did Anderson. All his players would do anything for him,” Gates said. “He killed Patty and got Anderson to help, and they got Steven to cover for them.”
“Maybe. We’ll know soon enough. Will, get Roscoe down to the station. I’ll meet you there. Make sure Howard doesn’t get anywhere near him and screw this up. I want first crack at him. And tell Nikyee I’m coming by tonight to talk to Lyle again.”
Gates waited until Will had left before she said, “People aren’t going to be happy that we’re amending our case and going after the local football coach taking the team to the state championships.”
“I’ll talk to the press once we know for sure who did what. I’ll take the hits, not you. It’ll be fine.”
She nodded and glanced over at Lyle as his mother pulled up and he ran to her. “About your mom,” Gates said, “I shouldn’t have—”
My phone rang. It was Pritcher. “Hold that thought.” I answered and said, “Yeah, Russell, what is it?”
“Congrats on your bust.”
I looked over to a few of the troopers gathered around the SWAT van. We hadn’t been here more than two hours, and Pritcher had already gotten word.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re thrilled.”
“I assume the charges against my client will be dropped.”
“Gotta hammer out a few things first.”
“Good. Oh, I should tell you, a friend of mine from New York will be defending Mr. Mallory. He’s on his way to the airport right now and asked that I inform you. He of course sent an email to your office and the sheriff’s department informing them that Mr. Mallory is represented, and I’m recording this conversation.”
“What? Why would you get him a lawyer?”
“Who says I did? Take care, Tatum. And if charges aren’t dropped against Anderson by tonight, I will be filing a motion to dismiss the case in the morning.”
I hung up. There went the only shot I had at getting a confession from Roscoe.
So far it seemed like prosecution was little more than eating crap every day.
I got a call just then from a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Graham?”
“Yes.”
“This is Kate Bailey, I’m a nurse over here at Saint Mark’s.”
My heart dropped. “Yes?”
“You should probably get down here, sir. Your father was just brought over in an ambulance.”
74
I rushed down to the hospital. My father was in the intensive care unit. I headed up there, and they let me into his room. It stopped me cold.
His face was white as a sheet of paper. His hands lay limply by his side and some blood had crusted on his lips. He was unconscious, and they had already dressed him in a hospital gown. Dr. Langley came into the room and stood with me a second before he said, “He collapsed walking to his car. Luckily one of his neighbors saw and called 911. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t come in when he did.” He paused. “Mr. Graham, his lungs are filled with fluid and blood. The cancerous tissue is simply going to grow until he suffocates to death. We have to operate to save his life, so while he’s unconscious and can’t give consent—you’re the next of kin.”
“Do what you gotta do.”
He nodded. “I’ll have someone come in with some paperwork for you to sign.”
I approached the bed. I couldn’t take my eyes off my father. I pulled up a nearby chair and sat down. Once, my father had reminded me of a lion. Strong and healthy and aggressive. He looked like a withered leaf now, as though he could fall apart right there in the bed and a breeze would blow away the pieces. It hit me then that he was going to die, and I wondered why it had taken so long for it to dawn on me that this was real. Maybe I couldn’t face death until it was right there in the room with me.
It made me think of my life. What would be left when my father was gone? I had no other family. In truth, despite everything, it was just me and him in the world. And I’d screwed it up, too, along with everything else. What the hell was I really even doing here? I had no place as a prosecutor. I had no place in River Falls. It had been a subconscious impulse to come back here, just because I didn’t know anywhere else.
I slumped over and put my hand to my head. The headache was back, and I rubbed my temples. I looked at my father’s pale face.
He had his watch on still, and I took it off his wrist and held it in my hand. My mother had bought him this watch and had me give it to him as a Father’s Day gift. I played with it in my hands for a bit and then couldn’t control myself anymore. I wanted to collapse into darkness and not crawl out again. To get away from everything and everyone and disappear.
I put my head on my father’s chest, wrapped my arms around his body, and I wept.
75
I woke up in the chair across from my father. The soft hum of his monitor filled the room, followed by an occasional beep. He was awake now and staring at the ceiling, his eyes bloodshot, his lips cracking from how dry they were. I poured some water from the sink into a plastic cup and brought it over to him. He took a few sips, and I put it on the side table and pulled up the chair again.
“Dad?”
He looked to me, his eyes red and wet.
