| |
THE PIECES STARTED to fall together. The wire Taka reported seeing in the basement proved to be wickets. More were found among the flower beds, being used as hose guides to fill the koi pond. After presenting Susan Pepper and her surprised lawyer the partially completed forensics, her landlord and Dr. Huntley’s statements about the dog, Taka’s statement regarding the cell conversation he overheard, and proving her bite scar matched the dentition of the dog’s skull, she admitted to her actions that led to the death of Billie Mae Robbins.
That’s the way Ronnie Horton relayed it as he stood in Taka’s hospital room two days later. Susan didn’t confess, she admitted to her actions. She found Billie Mae playing with the hose she’d left running and the dog in the pond, chasing the fish. She also admitted to Adam Ward and Kayla Anderson’s deaths, but only because that evidence was readily available once CPD knew where to start. The state police lab, backed up for months, would eventually try a new technique to collect DNA off the eleven remaining trophies Andrea had discovered.
The third day found them all cleared and Taka released from the hospital. In cahoots with Etta Robbin’s defense lawyer, Jessica Hiller, Andrea met with Jason Cobb two days later. The Kanawha County Prosecutor was already working on Etta Robbins’ release, but now questioning whether Billie Mae could have been saved with faster medical intervention. Andrea reported to Jessica, and then called Taka, cooped up in his condo, once she was out of Dunbar and out on Corridor G.
“They slept late and he was still there that morning,” she said as she drove back to work. “They saw Billie Mae lying on the grass from the window upstairs and Jason carried her in while Etta called 911. Jason was devastated, in shock. They thought warming her up would help before they realized she was dead. Etta insisted he leave before anyone arrived and when he hesitated, hit him until he left. He said she was inconsolable, already blaming herself for not being downstairs, not taking care of her children. He was sure he’d lose everything, his wife, his job, so he left.”
“He just left her to deal with it on her own?”
“She was just a fling,” Andrea said, using Cobb’s word for the affair. She was sure Taka shared her opinion on Jason Cobb’s character, so she bit her tongue on that rant and continued her story. “After Etta confessed, he wanted to go in, tell the police what he knew, but his wife said she’d leave him if he did.”
“Will he talk to Hiller now? And the Prosecutor’s Office?”
“He’s been divorced six years.”
Silence met her words and she understood it, thinking again about the sheer amount of emotional pain Cobb could have saved Etta Robbins and her son by stepping forward sooner. After a moment, she moved on. “As an anonymous source, I’m feeding everything I’ve found on Susan Pepper, her brother, the possible related cases in other states, and everything we put together on Billie Mae to Jimmy. Some of it’s going through Waltham-Young and some through that reporter, the one at Lake Vickers, who wanted to speak to you about Zach Taylor. Jimmy knows her. She’ll work with him. I’m still turning over rocks as my contacts get back to me.”
“Okay.” Still on suspension, Taka was laconic and grumpy. Taking an active interest in preserving their investment in him while they waited the grand jury out, CPD had already scheduled him with an appointed psychologist and informed him he would attend. If the pending charges against him were dismissed, and after the psychologist released him, he’d have to be re-certified by passing both a physical and a range test before he could be reinstated.
“Oh! Jimmy said to tell you the GPS trackers were registered to an email linked to one of Verny Fitch’s old burner numbers.”
“That’s good.”
Andrea waited to see if he’d say more, but he didn’t. “Do you want me to pick you up after work? Dinner at Louie’s?”
“No. I’m tired.”
“I’ll bring you dinner.”
“No. Miss Betty filled my freezer.”
Andrea drove around a stalled farm truck filled with bushels of apples. The views from the river road were glorious and bright and Andrea wished she’d taken Taka with her to see Jason Cobb. Even seeing him angry would be better than the silence. “Are you all right?”
Taka sighed. “I’m just tired.”
Between the hospital waking him up every few hours and the flames when he did fall asleep, she didn’t doubt that. “I love you, you know.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“I’ll pick you up at two tomorrow for Tracy’s funeral.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
“I’ll call you later,” she said before realizing he’d already disconnected. If she hadn’t already taken so much time from Waltham, she’d drive straight over to check on him for real. Hoping he’d still change his mind and come stay at hers for a few days, she resigned herself to calling him again later.
******
THE KNOCK ON HIS DOOR startled him. Taka wiped his face but didn’t get up, hoping whoever it was would go away. Instead, a key scraped in the lock. His heart jumped with a wild hope that it was Andrea, although he’d made it clear he didn’t want her coming over.
“Hey,” Scotty said, poking his head around the door. “Taka?”
Taka lifted his hand to wipe his face again and Scotty saw the movement as he came on through the door. Taka waited for him to ask the obvious. Why are you on the floor? Why are you in the dark?
But he didn’t. He watched Taka as he gently closed the door and locked the deadbolt. He toed his tennis shoes off and padded over without speaking, turning and lowering himself to sit down on the floor next to Taka, his back against the half wall below the kitchen counter.
Taka’s eyes overflowed again. He closed them and laid his head on his folded arms, which rested on his drawn-up knees.
After a while Scotty moved his arm against Taka’s side. Taka stiffened, but relaxed again when Scotty simply moved his hand to Taka’s upper back. The warm solid weight of it felt good. Taka sighed and snuffled. He wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve and then turned his head to look at Scotty.
“You’re throwing that shirt in the hamper as soon as you get up,” Scott muttered.
Taka laughed, a strangled sound.
“Heard you had a rough couple of days.” He got up, reached over the counter and held a paper towel down in front of Taka’s face. Taka took it. Unfolding, he stretched his legs out and blew his nose as Scott went into the kitchen. The cabinet door dropped closed and liquid filled a glass. Scott came back with a glass two fingers full of amber liquid. He handed it to Taka. “Jamison’s.”
Taka took a sip and winced, tipping his head back at the burn down his smoke-tender throat.
“You eat, yet?”
Taka shrugged.
Scott sighed and disappeared again.
He rattled around the kitchen. Taka took one slow sip after another as the aroma of onions and beef and cooked eggs filled the room. His stomach rumbled. Pushing himself up, he dragged himself over to lean against the kitchen frame and watch Scott’s economic movements as he folded cheese into the scrambled eggs and then slid slices of pan-fried steak onto two plates. He set the pan aside, turned off all the burners, and then split the eggs onto the plates and set that pan beside the other. He slid the silverware drawer open and plucked out forks before holding out a plate to Taka.
Scott followed him into the living room with his own plate in one hand and a bottle of water and the Jamison’s in the other. They sat down on Taka’s shitty couch and put the plates on the coffee table. They sat shoulder to shoulder and ate in silence, the TV turned to an early afternoon talk show on mute. The sound of cars coming and going along the road drifted in, indistinguishable voices from the parking lot, someone was running a vacuum. Scott opened the water and handed it to him.
Taka looked askance at him, but drank half anyway. When he set it down, Scott handed him the re-filled glass of whisky. Taka smiled. “Trying to get me drunk again?”
“No, trying to get your shoulders to drop another two inches.”
Taka rolled his shoulders and consciously dropped them, surprised at how tense he’d been holding them. They finished the steak and eggs. Scott pushed the water at him, while he refilled the whiskey glass and they passed it back and forth until it was empty again.
“Look, Taka . . .” Scott said.
Taka shook his head. “I’m going to shower.” When he stood, Scott stood with him. They cleared the table together.
In the kitchen, Scott opened the dishwasher. “Go on, I’ll clean up.”
Taka chewed on his lip, thinking he should help, but not moving anyway.
“Go,” Scot said.
Taka nodded and forced his feet to move him through the bedroom to the bath. He stepped in, closed the door, and stood there, staring at the black-and-white-striped curtain he’d bought one day with Andrea. After a minute he closed the toilet lid and sat down, trying not to think about the water hitting him in the face at the cabin, but failing. The comforting sounds from the kitchen stopped. Taka strained to hear Scott, but then jumped when Scott knocked on the bathroom door.
“Taka, are you getting in or what?” His hand landed on the door again, a gentle bump. Taka could picture him out there, one hand on the door, one on the knob. He should have locked the door. “Taka? I’m coming in.”
Taka’s tongue refused to move. He swallowed against the tightness of his throat. The draft of air from the opening door raised goosebumps on his arms.
“Taka?” Scott pursed his lips, assessing him with those damn sky-blue eyes that lightened and darkened with his moods. Those eyes made Taka want to hide.
“Shit,” Scott said. He entered and brushed past Taka to lean over the tub and turn the water on. He started the shower running and rattled the curtain closed.
Taka cringed at the sounds, closing his eyes.
Scott’s hands pulled at his shirt, until Taka lifted his arms and let Scott strip it from him.
“Up, c’mon,” Scott said, his voice hoarse, his hand a warm pressure beneath Taka’s elbow. Taka stood and let Scott unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper before he opened his eyes again when Scott stepped back.
He stripped, dropping his shirt on top of Taka’s. He yanked his jeans open and pushed them down with his boxers, deftly stepping out of them and leaving them puddled on the shirts. “I got your back, Taka, c’mon.” He slipped past the curtain and the sound of the water changed as it collided with his taut body.
Taka swallowed his fear and finished undressing.
******
THE BURR OF SCOTT’S phone woke them late in the afternoon. Taka groped for it on the nightstand and soft tossed it at Scott’s chest as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Scotty.” Scott inhaled sharply though his nose and threw the covers aside to get up. “Yeah. Yeah.” He went into the bathroom, but left the door open as he tugged his jeans on, sans underwear. Of course he’d be that kind of guy, just like his girlfriends. Andrea always said Taka had a type and he was starting to agree with her. Scott nodded absently, holding his shirt in one hand, casting around for his socks. Taka got up and dug a fresh tee shirt out for him. “Be there in twenty. Yeah.” He disconnected and stood staring at his phone.
“What’s up?”
“Dewey’s new head of security is dead. And Dewey’s dad.”
Everything in Taka stopped for just a second. “Senator Sanderson’s dead?”
“Shot. Carjacking.”
“Carjacking?”
“One of the Escalades.”
My family is my business, Taka, Dewey had growled at him in Fivemile. “If Dewey’s security was there, Dewey was, too,” Taka said. Dewey had said, if you ever felt anything for me, let it go.
Scott snatched the shirt from Taka’s hand. “Thanks,” he said, pulling it over his head. “Guy got away. Dewey’s fine. They’re moving me onto the detail.”
Taka shook his head. Scotty had been trying to move up in Dewey’s organization since he’d started at the Coliseum. He figured tending bar was his in and now he’d been proven correct. But Taka wanted him out. Now. “You know you could do better than Dewey,” he tried. “You could apply to the police academy.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “I’m thirty-two, Taka, with an English degree, two unpublished books, and a spotty work history. They need me there early.”
Taka couldn’t think of anything to say. He couldn’t exactly say, hey, I think maybe Dewey killed his Dad. He couldn’t say, hey, I haven’t fallen so hard for a guy since Dewey. He waved his hand towards the bedroom door. “Yeah. Go.”
Stepping close, Scotty snagged the back of Taka’s neck. “Look at me.” When Taka reluctantly complied, he said, “This isn’t a one-off. I’m not leaving you. And I’m not going to be as easy to ignore as Melinda.”
Taka didn’t know what he was feeling or what words Scott expected, so he just kissed him. Scott deepened it. When they broke, Taka whispered “Stay safe,” and let him go.