CHAPTER 10

As it turned out, now I was the one appropriately dressed. While I sat in the shade of river birches in my Bermuda shorts and polo shirt, sipping my cold beer by the side of the Kithane River in the mid-day August heat and humidity, my old friends, even with their suit jackets off and ties loosened, could not have been more uncomfortable in their oxford shoes, long pants, and collared shirts. I felt particularly bad for Bob. He had been expecting a feast of crab stuffed mushrooms, imported salamis, chilled shrimp, and a host of other artery-clogging hors d’oeuvres while swilling expensive wines in the air-conditioned comfort of Sue Ellen and Tony’s house. Instead, he sat balancing a half-eaten roast beef hoagie--it was his second--on his lap and nursing a domestic beer as sweat turned his once neatly pressed shirt into a soggy layer of clinging cotton.

It had taken us about half-an-hour to drive around town to pick up the beer and hoagies and another half hour or so had passed while we ate. We spent the time catching up. They expressed their sympathy for Jan’s passing. I quickly turned the subject to the changes East Hastings had gone through, and they took turns filling me in on their families. One thing that hadn’t come up was probably the one thing that was foremost on all of our minds--Stevie and what the hell had gone on in his life for him to end up with a knife in his back in a dive bar.

We sat in silence and watched a group of young teenagers frolicking in the river a little ways up stream. “You guys remember the time Stevie likely saved me from drowning in this river?” Dom asked.

“Yeah,” Tim answered. “When was that...seventh, eighth grade?”

“Pretty sure it was just after eighth grade, summer before going into ninth,” Dom answered. “I remember because Kathleen Havery had developed the most amazing pair of tits I’d ever seen and I promised myself I was going to cop a feel before the end of summer.”

“Yeah, I remember those. Magnificent!” Denny said. “The rest of her wasn’t bad either, if I recall.”

“I always thought she was a little stand-offish,” added Tim.

“Well, with that rack, she had to stand-off a bit, didn’t she?” Dom replied.

We all groaned. I shook my head, but couldn’t help smiling--it was seventh period study hall all over again.

“So anyway, I was out here with Stevie, Tim, I think we were all there. Some girls were with us. I don’t think you were, Wes,” Dom continued.

“Probably at the library, after all, it was summer,” Denny piped in.

“I think he had a crush on old Mrs. Linders, the librarian,” Tim added.

“What was she...like eighty or something? Just Wes’s type,” said Bob.

“Hey, can I finish my story here? I don’t care if you’d heard it before. It’s about Stevie, the kind of guy he was.” Dom looked at Bob, who graciously bowed his head, reached out his right hand, and rolled his wrist and hand to palm up, deigning Dom to continue.

“So, anyway I remember, it’s a hot, humid day and it’s great to be at the river with these girls. We’re in our cut-offs and no shirts and the girls were wearing bathing suits. Kathleen was wearing a two-piece and looking real good soaking wet.”

Bob pulled a cold beer from the cooler and held the iced bottle against his forehead. “Jeez, I’m gonna sweat off like thirty pounds by the time you get through this story.”

“Hey, if you didn’t keep interrupting--so Stevie, he knows I’ve got this thing for Kathleen and he pulls me aside and tells me that if I really wanted to impress her, I should do a flip offa this tree branch that’s hanging out over the river. I wasn’t too sure, but Stevie, he says it’s a piece of cake and to prove it he shimmies up the tree and does this terrific flip offa the branch and into the river. I look at Kathleen and I can see she’s impressed, so I figure, ‘what the hell’ and up I go. Course, I was a little bigger than Stevie and as I get out on the branch, the damn thing snaps, and down I go and the back of my head slams hard against the water and I go under. Luckily, Stevie was right there and managed to pull me out and get me to shore. I can’t remember who, but someone ended up taking me to the hospital and I spent the night there. Man, I was close to really impressing her and, ya know, Kathleen didn’t even bother to visit me.” Dom took a long swallow of his beer. “Still, if it wasn’t for Stevie, I’da probably drowned.”

I noticed Denny, Bob, and Tim sharing a look between them as they tried to stifle laughter.

Dom noticed too. “What?” he asked. “What’s so funny about me almost dying?”

Tim looked at Denny, Denny looked at Bob. “You tell him,” he said.

“Tell me what?” asked Dom.

“Well, you see,” Bob said, “since Stevie’s gone, I guess I can tell you. One of the reasons Kathleen didn’t visit you in the hospital that night was...um...well you see, we all went back to Stevie’s house after dropping you off at the hospital, ’cause his mom was at work and there was some beer at the house, and, um, well...”

“Well, what? What happened?” Dom asked.

Bob looked at Denny and Tim. Both nodded for him to continue.

“Stevie and Kathleen disappeared into his room at some point, and they were still there when we all left,” Bob finished.

Dom sat looking at Bob then at Tim and finally Denny. You could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “You mean,” he started slowly but his voice quickly rose. “You’re telling me that Stevie copped my feel?”

“Actually, a little more than that, according to Stevie,” added Bob.

“That bastard! That son-of-a-bitch! I never woulda gone up that tree if not for him and then he--”

Tim, Denny, Bob, and I looked down momentarily to avoid eye contact, but it became impossible to hold the laughter in. As one, we roared. Even Dom saw the humor in the whole thing and started laughing along with us.

“Fucking Stevie,” he said with mixture of admiration and sadness.

The laughter passed and each of us seemed to drift off for a moment with our own memory of Stevie and sat in silence.

Finally, Tim turned to me. “So, Wes, you’re really just going off again?” he asked. “Aren’t you just a little bit curious about what happened?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course, I’m curious, but c’mon, guys, it really is like I told you,” I answered quickly. “I’m not here to poke around. Hell, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I met the chief and she seems like a good cop. I’m sure she’ll do all she can.”

“I think we all agree the chief may be good, but the deck is stacked against her. Some people in town didn’t even want someone from the outside brought in after Chief Close retired. Certain people even wanted Danny to take over,” Tim answered.

“You mean Tony?” I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

Denny, Dom, and Tim waited for the others to speak up. They were quiet for a minute or two.

“Yeah, Tony, those two were always thick as thieves, from way back,” Tim said. “But not just him--same old families, just different generations. The Heards, the Abernathys...”

I’d worked in enough places now to understand that, big city or small town, a select few always seemed to call the shots, whether it involved zoning regulations, liquor licenses or who did or did not go to jail for their crimes.

“Now, they want it to just go away,” Denny said.

“Oh, sure, the whole town’s involved in this. And of course you all bring up Tony, the guy who got this town back on its feet?” Bob quickly interjected. “It was the drugs. Stevie was selling drugs, everybody knows it, and he pissed off the wrong people. Drug dealers should expect to be killed.”

“So you’re saying Stevie deserved it? Is that what you’re saying?” Tim answered Bob and his voice had an angry edge to it.

“No, I’m not saying that, just that the town doesn’t need a bunch of dirt being dug up. Who’s gonna move to East Hastings if they think a bunch of drug gangs are running around killing each other--” Bob answered.

“It could have been a jealous husband,” Denny said, interrupting Bob and Tim. “Not that I know anything, but Angie says she’s heard stories from some of the women at our clubs. You know Stevie, he didn’t exactly have boundaries when it came to who he slept with--single or married.”

“I heard he was mixed up with the Crawfords,” Dom said.

The other three looked at Dom as if he was conjuring up the devil.

“The Crawfords? Are they still in business,” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. They’re like cockroaches--stomp on one, there’s always plenty more,” Tim said. I couldn’t help but notice the stone-cold look he sent Dom’s way. “Not even Stevie would be stupid enough to mess with them.”

“Well, you say that but I saw Stevie earlier this summer down at the marina in Sea Isle where I keep my boat,” Dom continued. “Said he was in the market for one himself, asked me questions about the other boats docked there--how much would that cost, how much for that one? It took me years to save up to get my boat, and I know Stevie don’t got that kind of money. So I ask him if he won the lottery, but he says, all sort of confidential-like, that he’s expecting a big pay day, gives me that big grin of his. Well, there’s only one way to get that kind of money in this town overnight and that’s to do something for the Crawfords.”

“Stevie wasn’t mixed up with the Crawfords...” Denny said, and it might have been a coincidence but a large cloud moved across the sun and its brightness dimmed. It also felt, and this might have been my imagination, that the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.

“So, there you go, Wes, everybody’s got a theory,” Bob said after a moment, shaking out the final crumbs from a bag of potato chips into his palm. “You know, you guys really amaze me, and see there what you’d be getting into, Wes? It would all be a huge waste of time.”

He licked the crumbs off his hand and crinkled up the empty bag. “What it all comes down to is that no one has any idea why Stevie was killed, let alone who did it. It coulda been anyone for any of a dozen reasons, and I’m not saying that outa any disrespect for Stevie, but we all know how he could push people’s buttons.”

Tim turned to Bob. “Sure he could, but the owner of the place he was stabbed was working the bar and said Stevie hadn’t talked to anyone the entire night, said he was just sitting at the bar, checking his cell phone, sipping his beer like he was waiting for someone.”

“Like he was watching him the whole time. Somebody coulda slipped in, someone holding a grudge, knew Stevie would be there,” Bob answered.

“Owner said Stevie hadn’t been in the place for months,” Tim responded.

“Christ, Tim, what are you? Frickin’ Sherlock Holmes or something? The owner said this, the owner said that.”

“I’ve been following the case in the newspaper,” Tim answered defensively.

“Here we go with the Chronicle again. Where are they getting their information? You know how it is with newspapers--if they can’t find any facts, they just make things up to sell papers.” Bob turned to me. “No offense, Wes.”

I didn’t realize I should be offended.

“And, yeah, like the owner’s gonna tell the police--or the newspaper--the truth,” Bob continued. “Like he’d have any customers if word got out he was putting suspicion on any of his regulars. Hell, most of the people who hang out at that joint have a lot to hide from the police, from what I’ve heard about the place. But no, don’t blame some guy livin’ in a bottle or some druggie. Instead, point the finger at the most successful guys in town, screw with people’s marriages. So frickin’ typical.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that there are some people in town who have a lot of money invested in and around East Hastings, and you know, like you said, having a murder continue as front-page news probably isn’t the best thing for business.” This time Tim glanced quickly at me. “We just don’t think the police are doing all they can to find the murderer.”

“Ah, enough of this,” Bob said as stood up. “You guys heard Wes. He doesn’t want to get involved, has bigger fish to fry somewhere.” He turned to me. “Good luck, Wes, wherever your travels take you, but right now I’m hot, sticky, and I think I’ve got ants crawling up my leg. I want to go home and take a shower--now.”

He opened the top to the cooler and waited while we took last swigs of our beer and threw the empty bottles inside it. We all stood.

“Guys, you know, I’m really sorry. I hope they catch the guy and all but--” I started.

“No, Wes, it’s okay,” Dom answered, but I could tell it really wasn’t.

They just didn’t understand. Not sure I did either.

“C’mon,” Tim said. “I’ll give you a ride to your hotel, maybe see if we can get you some new clothes.” He fell in behind Denny and Bob as they headed back to the cars.

“And maybe some deodorant,” said Dom, waving his arm with a playful smile, as he approached me. He took my hand. “Wes, if I don’t see you before you go, I’m glad you could make it.” He followed the others off.

I was alone. I turned and took one last look at the river. It really hadn’t changed at all.