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AMES SAT ON THE SOFA, feeding the baby from a bottle of milk he had warmed up. The baby was freshly changed and satisfied, although he’d spit up the milk at first, leaving a small stain on Ames’ uniform shirt. Across from him sat Benny Jackson. The man’s eyes were red and grainy, and the stench of alcohol wafted from him.
Benny puffed at a Marlboro, inhaled deeply, and let out a blue cloud of smoke. He said, “Jesus, sheriff, I’m sorry I was pointin’ that gun at’cha. I heard somethin’ and thought you were a robber.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ames said. He was irritated by the whole situation. He had come so close to letting loose a couple of +P .38 rounds when he saw Benny Jackson step out of the closet with the shotgun. Even now, he wasn’t quite sure how he had exerted enough control to stay his trigger finger.
“Well what’cha doin’ here anyways? I ain’t done nothin’.”
“I came to talk to you about your wife.”
Benny sighed out another film of smoke. “What’s she done? You find her hookin’ or somethin’?”
Ames eyed Benny angrily. “We’re talking about your wife, son. I would think you’d show a little more respect.”
“Yeah. Well.”
“Listen,” Ames said. “Something happened to your wife. There’s been an accident—”
“She messed up m’car, didn’t she? Damn it t’hell, I knew she was gonna fuck that car up.”
“Mr. Jackson, just shut your mouth for a second while I tell you what I’m going to tell you. You so much as open it again before I’m finished, I’m going to close it right up for you. You understand me?”
Benny nodded but didn’t look too pleased.
“Your wife is dead.”
Benny continued to stare at him and puff at his cigarette.
“Did you hear what I said?” Ames asked. He’d known Benny was a real asshole, but he didn’t expect the man to be so cold when confronted with news about his wife’s death. Even if he had killed her, he’d be overly defensive, show some emotion.
“Yessir, I heard ya. I’m just waitin’ on the punch line,” Benny said.
Ames got quickly to his feet with the intention of hauling Benny up from the sofa and giving him a few good whacks on his thick scull. But he had the baby in his arms, and he sat back slowly.
“Listen here. I’m not telling any jokes. Your wife was killed last night and you’re going to answer some questions for me.”
“Shit. What the fuck is I supposed to do with the kid? I ain’t never done nothin’ for that kid. I don’t know how to feed ‘im or put the darn clothes on ‘im.”
“Calm down,” Ames said. Already this interview was slipping through his grasp. He needed to get things on track. “There must be some relatives you can—”
“Ain’t none of my family gonna take care for no baby. Most them’s worse off than I am.”
“If you can’t take care of the baby and you can’t find a responsible adult, I guess I’ll have to call the Social Services.”
“That’s it then. Have someone come’n take this here baby.”
Someone else might have been shocked at the ease with which the man had given up his baby, but Ames knew all about the Benny’s of the world. Benny Jackson would just go and knock up some other waitress when he was too drunk to pull out and she would end up sharing the rundown manufactured home, because two paid the rent better than one. And babies were little spending machines with all the formula and diapers and clothing they outgrew each month.
“I’ll put in a call and have Social Services dispatched as soon as possible, but you better care for this baby until they get here.”
“I can’t do that, sheriff. Don’t leave that baby here else I don’t know what might happen to ‘im.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Ames asked.
“You take ‘im.”
Ames sighed, knowing he would take the baby with him. Mary would never forgive him if he left the baby with Benny.
Resigned, he sighed again. He said, “Before we get sidetracked again, I have some questions. Did you know your wife was out last night?”
“Nossir. I fell asleep. You know I work hard all day.”
“You weren’t aware that she left?”
“Well, I woke up to take a piss and she wa’nt there.”
“Didn’t you wonder where she’d gone or why she hadn’t come back?”
“Well, nossir. I went right back asleep and didn’t wake up till you come kickin’ in m’door.”
“Did you beat your wife, Benny?”
“What the hell kinda question’s that?”
“I want to know if you laid hands on your wife often.”
“Well, a course I done smacked her around a bit when she got on m’nerves.”
“Did she ever get on your nerves so bad that you’d want to do more than smack her around?”
Benny stared at the sheriff, at first without comprehending. Finally, the implications dawned on him. “You think I kilt m’wife, don’t you? Well, hell, I ain’t had nothin’ to do with that, swear on m’mother’s eyes. I was here sleepin’ all night.”
“Except when you got up to take a piss,” Ames said.
“That’s right.”
“Is there anyone that can vouch for your whereabouts?”
“You know my wife wa’nt here. I was alone. Who the hell is gonna vouch for me?”
“You have a history of violence, Benny. Why should I believe you had nothing to do with your wife’s death?”
“Who done told those lies?”
“I heard about a particular party you attended. You alienated everyone. You punched a guy in the jaw.”
“Som’ bitch insulted me. What was I supposed t’do?”
“Maybe you lost your temper with Leslie and did something worse than punch her.”
“I ain’t done nothin’ to her. I swear I ain’t.”
Ames stared at him long and hard and finally decided that Benny was telling the truth. Like Sharon McKenan said, Benny was a bully, not a murder. Besides, Ames figured he was too stupid to have covered his tracks by burning his wife’s body.
“Don’t get any ideas about going anywhere,” Ames said. He got up from the sofa with the baby still cradled in the crook of one massive arm. With his other hand he continued to hold the bottle. “I’ll be checking on you.”
“Don’t you be threatenin’ me, sheriff. I got rights just like everybody else.”
Ames walked to the door with the baby cradled like a football. He looked down at the baby and back at Benny. He said, “One day this boy is going to make something of himself. I hope he never finds out what kind of daddy he had. He’ll be very disappointed.”
Benny was silent. He smoked his cigarette and stared across the room, in his own world now.
“You take care of the funeral arrangements for your wife, Mr. Jackson.”
“I will. Don’t you go worryin’ y’self about it none.”
Ames turned to leave but halted when he heard Benny’s voice.
“Sheriff Ames, did she fuck up m’car?”
Ames shook his head in disgust and left. In the Expedition, he realized that he didn’t have a car seat. He put the baby on his lap and carefully buckled the safety belt around himself and the infant.
He started the engine, but he did not drive away. He sat there for a moment giving the place a good looking over. He exhausted both of his leads and had nothing to show. This pained him. It was no longer a matter of pride for him; two young women were dead, and he would not dishonor their memories by letting their killer walk the streets without punishment.
He looked down at the fuzz on the crown of the baby’s head and smiled. “I don’t guess I know your name, little fella. I don’t suppose it matters much, though.”
The baby gurgled, made a high pitch screeching, clapped his hands, and smiled around a saliva bubble.
“Mary’s gonna eat you up, little guy. I have the sneaking suspicion you’re going to be one spoiled little baby when my wife gets through with you.”
He radioed a call through Marlena, which she routed to his house. He told Mary about what happened, and she was tickled at the idea of having the baby until Social Services made it out to Jasper. He drove away with the Jackson baby snuggled securely against his massive frame. The next few nights would be the longest he had ever known.