away, Timmy. Just get the door.”
Timmy did. I led the man to the Blazer and put him in the back, then found an old pair of handcuffs at the bottom of the glove box beneath three of Zach’s Matchbox cars, two tubes of Kate’s lipstick, and a stack of Johnny Cash CDs. One of the man’s hands went above the roll bar in the back, the other below it. I buckled the seat belt last. It wasn’t the best way to secure a prisoner, but it was the only way I could figure.
I turned to Timmy and said, “I’m gonna drive you over to Doc March’s. No objections.”
He cast a wary eye to the backseat as I pulled the phone from my pocket to dial the office.
“Go on,” I said. “All the fight’s out of’m, Timmy.”
The line rang in my ear as Timmy climbed into the passenger seat.
Kate answered and said, “Jake?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s me.”
“Is Timmy okay?”
“Will be. Just a few bumps. I’d let you talk to him, but Idon’t think he’s up for it right now. I’m dropping him at Doc’s. Andy’s at the hospital. He’s been burned.”
Kate choked back tears. “What happened ?”
“Two drunks looking for a quick dollar, near’s I can tell. I got one, but the other one’s in the wind. I need you to clean out the cell. Got a plate for you to run too. Can you do that?”
“I think so, yes.”
“You’ll have to call Alan Martin too, tell him to get people down here. And I need some crime scene people. To the BP first, then here.”
“Alan, okay. What’s the plate?”
I read the numbers off the truck along the curb.
“Anything else?” she asked.
There was. And while I took no pleasure in saying it, I knew it should only come from me. “You know those two boys been coming by the BP in the mornings? Brothers? Older one’s Eric.”
“Yes.”
“Know their last names or where they’re from?”
“Not offhand,” Kate said. “Andy’s caring for them. Why?”
“Eric’s gone, Kate.”
The silence that followed was a hurt that plumbed the deep places in Kate’s heart where neither tears nor words could follow.
“I’m so sorry, Kate.”
“I’ll make some calls,” she said.
I hung up and drove. No one spoke. I glanced into the rearview mirror. The man in back had his hands manacled to the roll bar, freezing him into a gesture of surrender. He looked at me and smiled. I saw a malevolence in that grin, a warning that echoed not in anything he said but in what Phillip had told me the night before.
You’re a dead man and he’s coming and you’ll remember true. Because I want an end.
I took my eyes away from the mirror and stared ahead. The nightmares alone were bad enough. But now I felt that Phillip had grown too large for my dreams, and I could not escape the feeling that he was watching me even then.
I was right.
5
Kate dried her eyes for what she promised herself was the last time and pulled the warm pages from the printer tray. The low ink rendered the image atop the DMV report in clumps of gray and black dots, but the name and address were clear enough. Charles Earl Givens. That was who had done this.
She didn’t need a clear picture to know he was a monster. Kate had seen enough of them over the years. They stalked the powerless and hid themselves well, never appearing as one would expect—with a goat’s head or a spiked tail maybe, or razored teeth smiling behind bulging yellow eyes. No, the real monsters were disguised in flesh and bone—the Mr. Charles Earl Givenses of the world. They were the fathers who abused and the mothers who neglected. They were criminals who beat other people’s brothers and burned kind old men and murdered innocent boys.
Bullies. That’s what those monsters were, bullies all. Kate knew this and knew it well.
She stared at the smudged outline of that wide, unsmiling face, barely aware of the phone trilling on her desk. Likely someone else wanting to know what Jake was doing out with his parade light flashing. Kate knew it wouldn’t
Timmy did. I led the man to the Blazer and put him in the back, then found an old pair of handcuffs at the bottom of the glove box beneath three of Zach’s Matchbox cars, two tubes of Kate’s lipstick, and a stack of Johnny Cash CDs. One of the man’s hands went above the roll bar in the back, the other below it. I buckled the seat belt last. It wasn’t the best way to secure a prisoner, but it was the only way I could figure.
I turned to Timmy and said, “I’m gonna drive you over to Doc March’s. No objections.”
He cast a wary eye to the backseat as I pulled the phone from my pocket to dial the office.
“Go on,” I said. “All the fight’s out of’m, Timmy.”
The line rang in my ear as Timmy climbed into the passenger seat.
Kate answered and said, “Jake?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s me.”
“Is Timmy okay?”
“Will be. Just a few bumps. I’d let you talk to him, but Idon’t think he’s up for it right now. I’m dropping him at Doc’s. Andy’s at the hospital. He’s been burned.”
Kate choked back tears. “What happened ?”
“Two drunks looking for a quick dollar, near’s I can tell. I got one, but the other one’s in the wind. I need you to clean out the cell. Got a plate for you to run too. Can you do that?”
“I think so, yes.”
“You’ll have to call Alan Martin too, tell him to get people down here. And I need some crime scene people. To the BP first, then here.”
“Alan, okay. What’s the plate?”
I read the numbers off the truck along the curb.
“Anything else?” she asked.
There was. And while I took no pleasure in saying it, I knew it should only come from me. “You know those two boys been coming by the BP in the mornings? Brothers? Older one’s Eric.”
“Yes.”
“Know their last names or where they’re from?”
“Not offhand,” Kate said. “Andy’s caring for them. Why?”
“Eric’s gone, Kate.”
The silence that followed was a hurt that plumbed the deep places in Kate’s heart where neither tears nor words could follow.
“I’m so sorry, Kate.”
“I’ll make some calls,” she said.
I hung up and drove. No one spoke. I glanced into the rearview mirror. The man in back had his hands manacled to the roll bar, freezing him into a gesture of surrender. He looked at me and smiled. I saw a malevolence in that grin, a warning that echoed not in anything he said but in what Phillip had told me the night before.
You’re a dead man and he’s coming and you’ll remember true. Because I want an end.
I took my eyes away from the mirror and stared ahead. The nightmares alone were bad enough. But now I felt that Phillip had grown too large for my dreams, and I could not escape the feeling that he was watching me even then.
I was right.
5
Kate dried her eyes for what she promised herself was the last time and pulled the warm pages from the printer tray. The low ink rendered the image atop the DMV report in clumps of gray and black dots, but the name and address were clear enough. Charles Earl Givens. That was who had done this.
She didn’t need a clear picture to know he was a monster. Kate had seen enough of them over the years. They stalked the powerless and hid themselves well, never appearing as one would expect—with a goat’s head or a spiked tail maybe, or razored teeth smiling behind bulging yellow eyes. No, the real monsters were disguised in flesh and bone—the Mr. Charles Earl Givenses of the world. They were the fathers who abused and the mothers who neglected. They were criminals who beat other people’s brothers and burned kind old men and murdered innocent boys.
Bullies. That’s what those monsters were, bullies all. Kate knew this and knew it well.
She stared at the smudged outline of that wide, unsmiling face, barely aware of the phone trilling on her desk. Likely someone else wanting to know what Jake was doing out with his parade light flashing. Kate knew it wouldn’t
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