The Grove (12 page)

I drove across town to Liz’s mother’s house. When I got there, Liz’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so I parked in her space. I sat in my truck and tried to figure out why I’d come and what I hoped to accomplish.

The incident at the river had stayed with me. I could still see the looks on people’s faces when Greg led me away. These were people who cheated on their wives and beat their kids. People who got drunk and ran children down on the side of the road then drove away.

One of them had even killed Jessica Cammon.

And still, they looked down on
me
.

I took a drink from the bottle then shut off the engine and got out. I headed for the front door, stopping to look in one of the garage windows. Ellen’s car wasn’t inside, and I wondered if they’d both gone down to the river after all. If they had I was sure someone would fill them in on what’d happened.

The idea stung, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. I wasn’t going back.

I walked up the steps to the front door and rang the bell. There was no answer so I opened the screen door and knocked.

Still no answer.

I let the screen door slam shut and leaned toward the front window, trying to look in. The room was dark, and nothing moved inside.

I rang the bell again, waited, then went back to my truck and took the bottle off the driver’s seat and leaned against the fender and drank.

I told myself that Ellen probably just forgot and didn’t give her the message. Liz wouldn’t have stood me up. It wasn’t even my idea, it was hers. I didn’t ask to come along. I was doing it for her.

I kept drinking.

After a while I went back to the front door and ran my hand over the doorjamb, then kicked over all the flowerpots on the deck, looking for a spare key. I didn’t find one.

I rang the bell again, waited, rang it again and again. For a moment, I thought I saw the curtain in the front window move.

I tried to convince myself it was just a breeze or a reflection of light on the glass, but I wondered.

I noticed a decorative stone snail, about the size of a baseball, sitting on the edge of the driveway. The eyes were huge with long eyelashes drawn above and below. Doll eyes. It was heavy and ugly and painted green. I passed it from hand to hand as I walked back to my truck.

I stopped halfway then turned around and stared at the front window for a minute. The curtains never moved, but I still wasn’t convinced.

I stepped forward and threw the snail at the window as hard as I could.

It went through easily.

The curtains tore away, and a jagged sheet of glass fell like ice, shattering on the ground.

Somewhere a dog barked.

I got in my truck and headed home.

“I knew you’d show up.”

Greg came down the steps, beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other. He was dressed in jeans and an orange T-shirt with a faded Denver Broncos logo on the front.

“I told you I would,” I said.

He nodded then put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deep. “That’s right, you did.” Smoke chopped out of his mouth as he spoke. “You’re a man of your word.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Greg dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it, then reached into his back pocket and took out the clip to my gun. He held it out to me.

I’d almost forgotten about it, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to take it.

“I told you I’d give it back.” Greg waggled the clip in the air. “You want it or not?”

I wasn’t sure I did, but I took it anyway.

“Thanks,” I said, staring at the clip and the row of gold bullets visible through the side. It felt uncomfortable in my hand, and I couldn’t wait to put it down. “Let me throw it in the truck.”

Greg nodded, and we both walked down the driveway to where I was parked. I opened the passenger door and put the clip in the glove compartment.

Greg leaned against the side of the truck and picked at the tab on his beer can. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said. “Before we go inside.”

I closed the passenger door and waited.

“Paul Colton,” he said.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “What about him?”

“I want you to leave him alone. If you see him on the street, turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” I smiled. “Does he want to kill
me
now?”

Greg didn’t smile back. “I’m serious, Dex.”

“I can handle myself.”

This time, Greg did smile. Normally this would’ve sent me into a rage, but even I was able to see the humor in what I’d said.

I could take care of myself as well as anyone off the street, I supposed, but Paul Colton was a lot bigger than me. If he was angry about this afternoon, then Greg was right. It would be better to leave it alone and let him calm down.

“As a favor to me,” Greg said. “Can you do that?”

I told him I could, then said, “Will you answer something for me?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think he had something to do with Jessica?”

Greg shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“As far as I’m concerned the guy is a piece of shit,” I said. “Going after that girl like he did.”

Greg smiled. “I don’t know how innocent she was in the whole thing. From what I’ve heard, she pursued him.”

“No,” I said. “That’s not right. He was the one after her.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Jess—”

I started to tell him I’d heard it from Jessica herself, but I stopped at the last minute. Instead, I said, “Just the impression I get from the guy.”

Greg stared at me for a moment, then said, “Do you know something about her I don’t?”

“No,” I said. “But there’s something wrong with that guy, you can see that for yourself, can’t you?”

“Why are you so interested in him?”

I recognized the look he gave me. He knew something wasn’t right, so I did what I had to do.

“I guess the girl reminds me of Clara,” I said.

The effect was immediate. Greg’s expression changed from suspicion to sadness. He looked down at his beer, then lifted it and drank. I felt a cold flash of guilt, but it went away as fast as it had come.

After a moment, he clapped his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Julie and I are happy you decided to come tonight, Dex. It’s been a long time.”

I agreed, and we started back toward the house.

As we got closer, I smelled the rich warmth coming from the kitchen. It made me think of Liz and Clara and a different life.

The food was excellent, but that wasn’t surprising. Julie was a fantastic cook, always had been, and when we finished I thanked her and got up to help clear the plates.

“Sit, Dexter,” she said. “We’ve got our own personal cleaning crew in this house.”

She looked at Marcus and William and motioned them toward the kitchen. Both boys slunk out of their chairs and began picking the dirty dishes off the table.

“Rinse them before you put them in the washer,” Greg said. “You hear?”

“We know,” Marcus said. “You tell us every time.”

Marcus was the older brother. Ten, I think. I knew he was two years younger than Clara, and William was three years younger.

When they’d left the room, I asked Julie.

“Marcus is eleven,” she said. “William is ten.”

It didn’t seem possible. That would mean Clara would’ve been thirteen, a young woman.

The thought didn’t make me sad or bring on a sense of regret. Instead, it showed me a glimpse of my future. I knew I would always have a picture of her in my head and with each passing year, that picture would change. Clara would grow up in my mind.

Thirteen didn’t seem real.

I heard the noisy clink of dishes and running water from the kitchen, and looked up. Greg was staring at Julie, shaking his head.

Julie wasn’t looking at him.

“How are things progressing with Liz, Dexter?”

Greg sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Julie, come on. Don’t start with that kind of thing.”

She held up her hands and shrugged. “I want to know. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t have to. I thought he might like to tell someone, because God knows you two never talk about anything.”

Greg shook his head and got up from the table. “You want another beer, Dex?”

I nodded then lifted mine and finished it.

When he was gone, Julie leaned close and put her hand on my arm. “I didn’t mean to bring up a bad subject, but I thought you two were working things out.” She paused. “I hope I wasn’t wrong.”

“We were,” I said. “We were going to meet at the search party this afternoon, but she stood me up.”

Julie frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Liz.”

“No,” I said. “It doesn’t. I never spoke to her directly. I told her mother to give her the message.”

“There you have it,” Julie said. “Obviously Liz didn’t get the message, so you can’t be mad at her.”

“I’m not mad.”

“That’s good.” Julie took her napkin off the table and folded it in her lap. “I hope you’re able to patch things up.”

I laughed, more to myself than her. “She’s probably angry at me, so it won’t be any time soon.”

“Why is she mad at you?”

“Everyone’s mad at me, not just Liz.”

“What do you mean?”

I heard Greg in the kitchen, wrestling with one of the boys. It made me think of his father and how he’d do the same with him.

“Tony Quinn,” I said.

“No one is mad at you because of that.”

“They still see me different,” I said.

“That’s in your head.”

“Do you know who I saw?” I asked. “I ran into Theresa Hall. Do you remember her?”

Julie nodded. “Sure.”

“She has a son now, and everyone is happy for her. No one remembers when her parents sent her to Denver to have that other baby. Everyone in town knew back then, but no one cares anymore.”

“So what?”

“Eddie Sears manages the grocery store. No one cares that he’s a thief and can’t stop gambling—”

“Dex, none of that matters—”

“But everyone remembers me,” I said. “Me and Tony Quinn, and I can’t make them forget.” I laughed. “The guy was a goddamn rapist, but that doesn’t matter. I’m the monster who killed him. I’m the crazy one who went away.”

Julie was quiet.

In the kitchen, one of the boys laughed and I heard Greg growl. The laughter got louder.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Have you talked to Liz about this?”

“No.”

“You should.”

“I don’t think she’ll want to talk to me.”

Julie waited for me to continue.

“I went to her mother’s house today when she didn’t meet me at the River.” I was still focused on Greg and the boys in the kitchen, and as I spoke my voice sounded absent and far off. “No one was home, so I wasn’t able to get an answer.”

Julie stared at me.

“I threw one of those stupid cement lawn ornaments through her window.” I shook my head and turned to face her. “You should’ve seen this thing. It was a dumb looking snail, with a face painted on the front.”

“Dexter,” Julie said. Her voice was soft.

“You’ve seen snails. They aren’t cute with long eyelashes and rosy cheeks. They’re slimy.”

“Why did you do that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t like to be ignored, I suppose.”

I didn’t know if that was true or not, but it sounded like a good excuse. The reality was that it just happened. I hadn’t been angry or upset. It just seemed like something that needed to be done.

Julie’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. Then she whispered, “Jesus, Dexter.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“We’ll see if Liz agrees with that, won’t we?”

“See if Liz agrees with what?” Greg came out of the kitchen. He had two beers, both opened, and handed one to me.

Julie stared at me then shook her head and got up from the table. “Dexter’s unique approach to getting her back,” she said, then turned toward the kitchen and was gone.

Greg looked at me for a moment, then leaned back and took a drink from his beer.

Both of us were silent for a while. Then Greg said, “How are those pills working?”

“They take a while to kick in.”

He nodded. “You’re still taking them?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, took another drink, said, “You’re not going to make me regret giving you back that clip, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“Might not be a bad idea for me to hold on to it for you, just until those pills start to kick in.”

I shook my head. “I had a bad day, that’s all.”

He didn’t speak, just looked at me.

After a while I couldn’t stand it anymore. “I went over to Liz’s mother’s house after I left the river this afternoon, but they weren’t home.”

He kept quiet.

“I might’ve busted out a window.”

He frowned. “Did you go inside?”

“No,” I said. “I just might’ve broken a window.”

“Might’ve?”

I took a drink and didn’t say anything.

Greg glanced toward the kitchen and his family. He seemed to be somewhere else. After a moment he looked at me and said, “Let’s get some air.”

When we stood and moved toward the door, I stuck my head in the kitchen and thanked Julie for the meal.

“You’re welcome, Dexter,” she said. “You make sure to let me know what Liz says, you hear?”

She smiled at me, but it never touched her eyes.

I joined Greg on the porch.

He had a cigarette in his mouth and a yellow Bic lighter in his hand. He shook it then scraped a flame out of it and touched it to the cigarette.

“You got another one of those?”

He looked at me. “You don’t smoke.”

“Thought maybe I’d give it a try.”

He hesitated, then handed me the one he’d just lit and took another from a pack on the porch railing and put it to his mouth. “You won’t like it.”

He was right. Still, I didn’t let on.

We both stared out at Greg’s front yard. The oak tree was still there, but the tire swing that’d hung from the lower branches when we were kids was long gone.

“Remember when you broke your leg?”

Greg nodded.

“The way the bone stuck out of the skin and all the blood.” I took another drag off the cigarette and forced myself not to cough. “How old were we? Thirteen?”

“Younger than that,” Greg said. “Probably closer to ten or eleven.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said.

“You remember how you carried me on your back all the way to the Doc Witfield’s place for help?”

I laughed. “It was a stupid thing to do. I should’ve called someone, or run over there and brought someone back to help.”

“We were kids. You did what you thought was right.”

We were both quiet for a moment, then I said, “You see the way everyone looked at me this afternoon?”

“You made yourself the center of attention.”

“It’s more than that and you know it.”

Greg nodded. “Maybe so.”

I took another drag of the cigarette and decided I’d had enough. I flicked it, end over end, into the grass beside the porch.

“I guess you’re not going to pick up the habit?”

I shook my head and took a drink of my beer. It didn’t kill the taste.

“Nobody’s going to forget, will they?” I said. “It’s been years since all that happened, and people still see me the same way, no matter what I do or how much time goes by.”

“They’ll forget,” Greg said. “Everything passes.”

“I don’t think so. Not this.”

Neither of us spoke for a while; then Greg said, “Why don’t you let me have that clip again. I’ll give it back to you in a couple weeks, when you’re sure you’re feeling better.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Today was just a bad day, I told you.”

“I still think—”

“Greg,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

He paused, said, “You didn’t go inside?”

“No.”

“That would’ve been breaking and entering,” he said. “I couldn’t overlook it, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“As it stands, you’re going to have to pay for the window.”

I nodded.

“I’m surprised I haven’t heard from Ellen yet.”

I was, too, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I finished my beer and set the can on the porch railing and said, “I should be going.”

“Already?”

“Probably for the best,” I said. “I think I upset Julie.”

Greg shrugged, and we both started for my truck. When we got there, I got in and rolled down the window. I held out my hand.

Greg shook it and said, “I’d feel more comfortable if you give it back, just until next week. You can come over for dinner again.”

“You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”

I smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back.

“Tell Julie thank you again for me, will you?”

He nodded and stepped back from the truck.

I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward home. When I got a fair distance away from Greg’s house, I opened the glove compartment and took out the clip.

The metal felt cold and heavy in my hand.

I wondered if Tolliver would be waiting for me when I got home. I wondered if he’d be sitting on my porch, smiling his gray smile, anxious for me to show up so he could turn the screws on my life.

I looked down at the clip in my hand.

Part of me hoped he would be.