Chapter Fifty

Cleg stood on the Ross’s back porch and watched the goings-on. Things were spiraling out of control—that’s what The Shrike had said, and that’s exactly what was happening. She, Mort, and Toby had become obsessed with finding old man Ross’s treasure, and nothing seemed likely to stop them from getting it.

The more Cleg thought about it, the more he figured that might not be such a bad thing. As sure as God made little green apples, if Margo found a pile of money, she’d light a shuck out of his vicinity. That’s what she’d said, and once that woman set her mind on something, it was as good as done.

Like a flower-scented breeze, the thought of freedom from The Shrike sent sweet images of happiness whistling through his head.

Freedom. Cleg rolled the word around in his mouth, savoring it like a plateful of mashed potatoes and cream gravy. Dreamlike images leapfrogged through his mind. Images of him enjoying unrestricted access to television while eating anything he wanted, as much as he wanted, any time he wanted. Him sitting in his big, easy chair for days, if he chose, while no one badgered him about his weight, and no one shrieked orders. Him saying whatever he wanted to say and thinking anything he wanted to think without fear of being berated. And best of all, he saw himself free from worrying about the next unexpected outbursts that would end in him getting a beating.

He watched the people who made up his family as they discussed what to do with the old woman and argued about the best way to make the girl tell them where to look for the treasure. It was as if scales fell from his eyes, and he saw them for who they really were—a gaggle of selfish, hateful strangers.

What had happened to that gentle, sweet kid named Mort who’d only ever wanted to be good at something? Or to the brave young Toby who’d lost his mother? When had they turned into such sharp-faced, hungry-eyed, worthless lumps of humanity?

But worse than that, whatever happened to that young Cleg who’d been so filled with the joy of life? What had he ever done bad enough to condemn him to the years of hell he’d spent with The Shrike?

All he ever wanted was a loving wife, a nice family, a good and peaceful life. He didn’t want the treasure, didn’t give a rat’s patoot about it. But his life would be so much better if Margo got her hands on it.

Cleg didn’t want to hurt anyone. He’d never even been able to bring himself to discipline Mort or Toby. But things were changing, and he had some tough choices to make.

He’d actually kind of liked the little girl, never even considered hurting her. The Shrike had done enough of that for both of them. Nevertheless, she had to be made to tell where her daddy had hidden the map.

The girl clearly cared about that old woman who’d just shown up out of the blue. That made the woman leverage—Cleg’s ticket to freedom.

Maybe his luck was about to change. After shooting one last glance at the people he no longer knew, he shuffled toward the kitchen door.