Chapter Seventeen

Billy Ray left her with a howling June and Memphis Brown half-heartedly patting his wife on a shoulder that was at the moment insensible to any touch except grief. Raven gave Brown her name and number scribbled on a piece of paper from her pocket memo tablet. She told him to call if they thought of anything, anything at all about what could have happened to Clyde. She told him that the coroner’s office would be in touch for a formal identification.

When she got outside the sky had darkened considerably. Threads of lightning flashed in the clouds, followed by a low grumble of thunder. The air felt new and wet and dangerous. Billy Ray was kneeling on the sidewalk by the yard, sifting a handful of Byrd’s Landing’s dark soil from one hand to the other. He didn’t acknowledge her when she squatted next to him. For some reason she felt it important to keep her mouth shut. A soft rain was falling. Billy Ray started to speak as if the rain had awakened him.

“You know these flowers here, the bright yellow ones?” he asked her. “Oral ever tell you what they were called when he taught you how to garden?”

“I think he told me that it was sneezeweed.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Sneezeweed. There’s superstition that breathing dried sneezeweed can actually make you sneeze. And you know what they say about sneezing, right?”

“Floyd used to say sneezing chased away the devil.”

Billy Ray chuckled. “He would know.” He waited for a long moment before saying, “Don’t seem to be doing Memphis and June any good.”

Raven said nothing. Billy Ray had something on his mind, and he had confided in her so rarely these days that she knew the best thing to do was to let him take his sweet time on getting whatever was bugging him out of his head.

“You think Breaker ever looked into these killings as a racial thing?” he said. His voice was soft, with an edge running underneath that she had never heard from him. She didn’t like it.

“Because the victims are white?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And where the killer is leaving the bodies – the police station, that bank, places that are usually run by rich, white people. People who benefited from black people’s blood.”

“The last time I checked, the mayor, Marcus I mean, he’s black.”

“Maybe that doesn’t matter to the killer. The mayor is still at the doorway to power.”

He started digging into the dirt as if he were looking for something. He said, “You know the whole time I was in there talking to Memphis and June, I was thinking to myself that’s what all this could be. Black folk taking their revenge.”

“By killing children?”

“You see this dirt, here.” He opened his fingers and let the dirt fall through them. “It’s evil, like this town. Did you know that this parish had more lynchings than anywhere in the entire country? There’s the blood of black men, women and children running hot in the soil of this place. Maybe that’s what your father smelled, what Lovelle tasted and liked. What this killer is loving on right now. Place got evil all through it. Attracts the devil like a piece of rancid meat attracts the buzzards.”

“You saying Byrd’s Landing is a rancid piece of meat? Then why stay? Why don’t you leave?”

“Why do you think? Because I always knew that you’d be coming back, that you couldn’t stay away.”

“Okay, fine,” she said, throwing up her hands. “If you hate it this much, let’s go. Help me find Noe and let’s get the hell out. We’ll go back to New Orleans by your sister. We’ll buy a house on the same block, raise our kids side by side, have cookouts every Sunday.”

He bowed his head, and then turned toward her. “You will never, ever leave this place.”

“Yes, I….”

“No, you won’t.”

“I will.”

“Raven.”

He stood up, dusted his hands off and pointed toward the house. “I’ve grown up with uncles like Memphis Fields Brown so beaten down by racism that they can’t breathe.”

“If I heard correctly, June said that it was his taste for alcohol that beat him down.”

“Maybe, but what drove him to it? That man’s got trauma going generations back.”

“I never heard you talk like this, Billy Ray.”

“I never had reason to bring it up,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it now and again. You looked bothered.” He said the last like he didn’t give a damn.

“It bothers me that you think that these boys got what they deserved.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that maybe the assholes who run this town are getting what they deserve.”

“By using these boys? That’s still sick.”

“And if that’s the case, why should I have to get involved in it?”

“Because you can.”

“Doesn’t mean I should.”

“Clyde and Noe blow the crap out of your race angle. You know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t think Clyde is a victim of the Sleeping Boy killer. I think he’s a copycat, and Noe got in the way. Or the other way around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe the killer was after Noe and Clyde got in the way. Or maybe our friend in there, Memphis, finally got up the nerve to take Clyde out and Noe got in the way. He couldn’t stand that boy. Did you see the look in his eyes when he found out that he was dead? That was pure relief, Raven.”

“He’s not the type.”

He didn’t answer. Instead he turned his face up to the sky. The rain started falling harder now. Billy Ray closed his eyes as if he were enjoying the feel of it on his face.

“What are you trying to say to me?” Raven asked.

He brought his head down to look at her. He wasn’t frowning, but his eyes weren’t friendly.

“Noe’s probably dead, you know that, don’t you?”

He continued before she could say anything. “I don’t like it, but he’s probably not topside anymore. And I’d bet all the farms in Georgia that the serial didn’t do him. It’s a copycat.”

“Then where’s his body?” Raven spat.

“I don’t know. I’ve told you before that I can’t explain why crazy does what it does. But I’ll tell you one thing. I can’t, Raven. Not anymore. I don’t owe this town a damn thing. I can’t help you with this.”

“You got to be kidding me?” she said. “You pull this now? I thought you cared about Noe.”

“Not did, do. I do care about him. But I’m not putting my body on the line anymore for this town, or to find another dead body.”

She turned away in disgust, but his voice stopped her.

“Now listen. I ain’t saying that I won’t help. I’m just saying that the help’s going to have to come from the restaurant. I can be your sounding board, help you explore any theories you want, but it’ll be from the front of my stove or behind my bar. I’m there for you, but no more knocking on doors, or interrogating suspects. No more of these fucking notifications. With that you’re on your own.”

His words felt like a punch. She was too hurt to say anything.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well, what?”

“Are my terms acceptable?” She could have sworn that he was smiling a little. For a second he looked like the old Billy Ray.

“I guess they’ll have to be.”

He nodded and started walking toward the unmarked Dodge. She watched his broad back before following him, wondering how easy it would be for her to fit a desk into his office. It was the small smile that spurred her on, that flash of the old Billy Ray she wasn’t ready to give up on. Not to the bitterness he had finally allowed her to see, and certainly not to his bleeping Viking stove. He was going to help whether he liked it or not. He was going to know what it was like to catch bad guys again and enjoy himself while he did it.