I MOUNTED THE steps. People inside moved out of the way to let me enter. Dad stood in the kitchen, holding Olivia. I went to him, took her out of his arms, and buried my face in a hug. She smelled great, baby powder and little girl. She patted the side of my head with her tiny soft hand. “You ungry, Pop Pop? Is the monster ungry?” She wanted to play our game. I pulled her back and looked at her; the innocence and the truth she spoke took my breath away. “Yes, baby, Pop Pop is ungry.” I handed her back to Dad.
He took her. “I’m sorry about what happened to Ned, Son. That’s just awful. I am so sorry.” He reached out and put a warm hand on my arm. I turned away so I wouldn’t break down right there and cry—cry for days and days.
“Yes, it is. I have to go out.”
“When you comin’ back?”
I looked around at all the folks in our house, neighbors, friends, but mostly cops, who silently looked on. I needed more than anything to be alone, and these folks violated that solitude. I looked back at Dad. “I’ll be back when the job’s done.”
“You sure you shouldn’t have some rest first? You look terrible and on the verge of collapse.”
“No.”
I didn’t expect that from him. I expected him to try and convince me to stay home with my daughter where I belonged. Insist upon it.
Then I remembered my promise to Ned. “Dad, where’s Beth?”
He looked away from me for just a second, before looking back. “This morning a deputy knocked on the door. He had a court order in his hand. I didn’t know what to do. I thought you said Child Protective Services was coming and they did, but not until later, about an hour later. They showed up too late. But before that I didn’t know what to do about the deputy standing in our living room with a piece of paper signed by a judge. I’m sorry, Son, I think they gave that poor child back to her mother.”
“It’s not your fault, you understand? You did the right thing. I’ll take care of it.” I turned and headed back out.
On the stoop, I hesitated. Off to the left and down the street at the corner, a silver BMW bumped the front tires over the curb and rolled slowly down the sidewalk headed to our house. The deputy with the shotgun stepped aside to let it pass. The BMW came right into the yard and stopped by the fifty-five-gallon drum with the ebbing fire. The crowd filled in back around the car. Shadows flickered and danced off the tinted windows. Everyone stayed silent, waiting to see what would happen next.
I’d never seen such pure, unmitigated arrogance in the way JB just drove into my yard, the yard of the house where Ned had been staying. I fought down the rage. JB had been the catalyst of Ned’s anger at me. He’d stolen Hannah away with money, turned her head away from Ned, broke them up as a couple.
The passenger door opened and out stepped Hannah, her eyes and face puffy from crying. She wore a plain white hundred-dollar tee shirt tucked into denim pants with black cowboy boots. Her wavy blond hair fell loose about her shoulders.
She stood by the open car door looking up at me, her blue eyes pleading to end her pain, her grief. She wouldn’t get that from me. I didn’t have it to offer. She didn’t move. “Bruno?”
I took the three steps down the stoop to the ground. She launched right at me. I took her in my arms and hugged her. Hugged her like I never hugged anyone before. She hugged back.
She finally whispered into my neck. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”
I didn’t answer, couldn’t.
“Tell me, Bruno.” Her voice a whisper, barely audible. “Did he … did he die because of me? Was his mind somewhere it shouldn’t have been? Did he hesitate? Was it me, Bruno?”
Her words made me flash back for the thousandth time to the entry into that house, and in my mind’s eye, I witnessed again the flash and noise from Ned firing his gun.
He’d fired first.
I realized right then, Ned had fired first. He’d missed. Ned never missed.
A part of me wanted to tell her the truth, but at that moment whom would the truth benefit? It could only cause more grief and pain and solve nothing.
I pulled her away to look into her eyes. “No, it was just a bad set of circumstances that all came together at the same time.”
She sobbed and gulped. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “But there is something you should know.”
I took her back into the hug and whispered. The crowd didn’t need to hear our personal business.
“Hannah … Hannah.” She nodded, waiting for me to tell her. “Ned asked me to look after Beth, to make sure—”
Hannah tried to pull away. “What? Wha—”
I held on and wouldn’t let her pull back.
“Listen to me. Just listen. Beth has been abused.”
Hannah let out a little scream and fought until I let her go. “What the hell are you talking about?” She stood with the firelight dancing on her blond hair, her fists clenched.
“JB used a cord and whipped the bottom of her feet.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. On the other side of the BMW, the driver’s door opened. JB had heard what I’d said through Hannah’s open passenger door. His head popped up over the roof of the car.
“No!” Hannah yelled. “That’s not true. I don’t believe you.” She hurried the few steps back to the BMW and flung open the back door. Beth was sleeping in a car seat, her head cocked to one side. Hannah, in her rush, yanked off Beth’s little shoes and woke Beth, who let out a yelp. Hannah’s back went stiff as she screeched, “Oh my God. Oh my God.” She pulled out of the car and looked at JB, who now walked around, taking off his black leather designer jacket. He tossed it on the trunk deck of his car. He wore a red silk shirt open in a vee at the top, revealing his chest hair and a thick gold chain around his neck. His black denim pants covered most of his rattlesnake-skin cowboy boots.
“What have you done?” Hannah yelled. “What have you done to my baby?”
“Of course, that isn’t true, babe. It’s a lie. Think about it. Beth has been with Ned and—”
I went at him. He would not disparage Ned’s name, especially with a false accusation. Coffman and Gibbs grabbed me, tried to hold me back and couldn’t. Several more deputies jumped on and stopped the ass-kicking JB so richly deserved.
Hannah came over to JB. “Did you hit my baby?”
“No. He’s lying. Honey, who are you going to believe?”
She looked at me. “Bruno?”
I relaxed, and so did the grip from all the guys restraining me. “Hannah, have I ever lied to you?”
She gulped hard and slowly shook her head, no.
“Now,” I said. “Has this piece of shit ever lied to you? The injuries on Beth’s feet are scarred. Ned couldn’t have done it.”
She spun on JB. “You son of a bitch.” She went at him, clawing and slapping and kicking.
JB put his hand on her face and shoved her down. He turned and faced me and the group of men holding me. “You’ve meddled in my life once too often. Let him go.” He started rolling up his sleeves.
Coffman yelled, “Get the hell outta here, Johnny. You got two minutes or I’ll tell these boys to take you down and book you for felony child abuse. See how you’ll like that in prison as an ex-cop and a child abuser. They’ll eat your lunch the minute you get there.”
“You got no evidence. Let him go. This has been a long time coming.”
Wicks shoved his way through the crowd and into the circle that had opened up around us. The fire in the barrel had started to die down even more as no one paid attention to it. Now someone stoked it with pieces of broken wood pallet. Darkness crept in fighting back the orange from the shortened flames licking at the emptiness contained in the evening. Even in the low light, anyone could see JB had spent his time in the gym working out since his medical retirement from the Sheriff’s Department. He’d put on twenty-five pounds of muscle. He’d be hard to take. Not that I cared.
Off to the right, the crowd of deputies surged to reveal an apparition. Ned stood there with a bullet hole under his eye. “Partner, you’re gonna need a BFR, a big fuckin’ rock, like the kind we used on ol’ Willis Simpkins.” He shot me that smile of his. Fatigue and grief made strange bedfellows. I rubbed my eyes and he disappeared.
Coffman said, “No.”
Wicks said, “On my responsibility, let him go. You boys back off and give them some room. JB’s been needing his ass kicked for a long time now.”
JB scoffed at Wicks. “You so sure Bruno can kick my ass?”
“Bruno?” Dad stood just inside the front door with his head sticking out, holding Olivia on the other side so she couldn’t see the foolish folly of her pop.
The group of men let me go. I looked at JB and said, “Dad, please go back inside. I know you don’t—”
“Bruno!”
I turned to look at Dad. His arm came out the door in a blur. The ball bat flew through air. I caught it. Dad said, “Just do it right, Son. No one hurts a helpless child. No one.”
His words stunned me.
JB said, “Go ahead, use the bat—it won’t do you any good.”
I threw the bat to the side. “I won’t need a bat.” I suddenly found a place to vent my anger and grief, a violent place of quiet calm.
We moved toward each other, fists raised.