twenty-seven

Creed whistled as he rose the next morning and set about shaving in the downstairs lavatory. He hadn’t felt this fine since, well, since his wedding night. Delphy slipped up behind him and slid her arms around his waist, burying her face against his back. He splashed water on his cheeks and turned to wish her a proper good morning.

After a few moments, she murmured, “Those kids will be hungry.”

“They aren’t the only ones,” he said softly in her ear before releasing her with a final squeeze and a kiss.

She began bustling around the kitchen while he finished setting his mustache and hair to rights. He found her at the stove and hooked one arm around her waist. He kissed the back of her neck where she’d hurriedly twisted her hair up. “It’s good to be back,” he said. “You, me, and Loyal. I’m sorry I stayed away so long.”

She leaned into him and sighed. “I’m sorry, too. Do you think . . . ?” She turned to look at him, worry in her eyes. “Do you really think you’ll stay?”

He didn’t answer at first, just kissed her forehead, her cheek, and finally her willing mouth. “I do,” he said. And she smiled in a way that let him know she understood just what he meant.

Creed took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the kids’ doors. He heard stirring in both rooms and called out that breakfast would be served in thirty minutes. Whistling again, he went downstairs to see what might need doing around the house. There were always little repair jobs and he wanted to make sure he did them before Delphy had to ask.

Fifteen minutes later, Creed relaxed at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, trying to distract his wife from the eggs and bacon she was tending. Michael and Rebecca appeared in the doorway looking pale and frightened. He sat up straighter, fear piercing the happiness he’d been floating on. “What is it?” he asked .

Delphy spun around at the stove and seemed to notice the same change in the room’s atmosphere. “Where’s Loyal?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Michael swallowed convulsively, like he was choking on his words. “We don’t know,” he blurted.

“What do you mean?” Creed bolted from his chair and back up the stairs. He checked Loyal’s room but only saw an empty bed and pallet on the floor. He quickly searched the other two rooms upstairs before bounding back down to the first floor.

Delphy met him at the front door. “I couldn’t find him outside. The kids say they don’t know anything.” Her shaking hand covered her mouth. “Could someone have taken him?”

Creed pulled her against him and looked at the Westfall kids standing in the doorway. “Did he tell you anything last night?” They shook their heads as though mute. “What did you talk about?” Creed demanded.

Michael stared at the floor as though he might read the answer there. “I guess we talked about how since I didn’t kill that man, the sheriff would have to figure out who did. And how it was bad that Otto and Dad might get in trouble after all.”

Creed closed his eyes and rubbed Delphy’s back as she shed quiet tears. “He’s a good boy. A kind and brave boy. Just the sort who would want to help his friends figure out the truth.”

Delphy caught her breath. “You think he knows who the real killer is?”

“Probably not,” Creed said, “but I’m betting he’s decided to try and find out.”

Loyal felt pretty proud of himself. Last summer he hadn’t done anything but hang around the house and help Mother in the yard and garden. This year he was doing all sorts of things. He smiled and stuck his chest out. Being deaf sure wasn’t slowing him down!

He headed for the bend in the river where Eddie Minks had been killed. He’d finally taken time to really think back to that day and what he’d seen beyond Michael and Rebecca running along a path. It might have been an animal, but the more he conjured the image the more he thought it was a person. Someone had been moving in the trees above the trail. He’d seen . . . what, a hat maybe? And sunlight glinting on bright metal. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find now, but he was determined to do everything he possibly could.

The notion that the moonlight was leading him stayed with him until the sun peeked over the mountain and drowned out the moon. By then he was standing in the cold river, remembering how the mountain had looked the day his life changed. He found the path and the stump and let his eyes move up the slope of the mountain . . . there. A gap in the trees, perfect for exposing someone who didn’t expect to be seen from the river. Loyal noted a pine nearby and began working his way toward the spot.

As the sun crept higher, the gnats got bad. There was practically a cloud of them in front of his face, and the infernal insects preceded him up the mountain. He swatted at them a few times but gave up when he realized they were mostly staying out in front of him. If he were a bullfrog, it would be his lucky day.

Reaching the tree, the cloud of insects finally lifted. He looked around until he found the gap he’d seen from the water. He began to search every inch of the ground and surrounding trees. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he figured . . . and then he saw it. It was just a twig, but the end of it was worn and frayed like it had been chewed on. Loyal picked it up and sniffed it. Sassafras. Just like the twigs he’d seen Sam chewing at the Hacker place. Just like the one he’d found in his room after Sam spent the night. He guessed it wasn’t what the sheriff would call “hard evidence,” but he was excited just the same.

Now all he had to do was find Sam and see what he knew about the day Eddie Minks got shot. Of course, Sam might even be the one who fired the second gun, so Loyal would need to be extra careful.

“Julia’s been after me to quit sheriffing, and I think I just might go ahead and do that.” Virgil looked like he hadn’t caught up on any of the sleep he’d been missing. “I arrested Earl on suspicion of fraud and ran him up to Elkins last night. When I got back to the house, there was a quilt and a pillow on the sofa. I took the hint but can’t say as I got much rest.” He sighed. “Nor did I get much breakfast.”

Creed could sympathize with him—even though he and Delphy were on the mend, Loyal running off was a setback all around. And telling the sheriff the boy was missing—again—had been worse than taking a beating. But Creed knew he didn’t have a choice. “I think he’s trying to figure out where that other bullet might have come from.”

“Like father, like son,” Virgil said, dragging his hands over his face. Creed tried not to show the spark of pride he felt in thinking that his son was taking after him. “Thing is, when I picked up Earl he finally talked. Turns out he and Eddie were supposed to meet somebody out there at the bend in the river. Except Earl was sick—hungover, if you ask me—and Eddie went by himself. Earl wouldn’t tell me who they were meeting, just said it had to do with a land deal and he figured holding on to the name was the only leverage he had left. Says he’ll tell us who it was if we cut him a deal.”

Creed swallowed hard. “Any notion who it could be?”

“I went through that book of Eddie’s with a fine-tooth comb and there are a couple of good candidates, but I keep circling back to Clyde Hacker. He talked like he might actually sell his land. I wonder if those boys of his think that’s such a good idea?”

Creed stared at his shoes. “Clyde said something about giving Sam and Glen a way out of this place. But I guess I can see how they might prefer to keep the family business going rather than starting over somewhere else.”

“What I was thinking. Those boys would never go against their daddy, but they might find another way around him.” Virgil picked up a thick ceramic mug and slurped his coffee. It put some color in his cheeks. He stood and stretched his shoulders back like a bird stretching its wings. “Alright then. I’ll get Bud to go over to your place and keep an eye on the Westfall kids. You and me are headed back out to the mountain. We’ll start at Hadden’s place and work our way to the Hackers.”

Creed nodded. Though he was anxious to find Loyal, there was also a part of him that hoped the boy might actually find a clue. That maybe Loyal would crack this case wide open as they said in the detective stories. Wouldn’t that be something? He’d been so afraid of doing more damage to the boy for so long. Finally seeing how he could hold his own was liberating. Maybe it wasn’t about pushing like his own father had done, but simply encouraging the boy’s natural abilities. He thought maybe that was what a father ought to do and he was eager to try it out.