Chapter Seventeen
AFTER I LEFT the hospital room, I found Twitch pacing beside my truck in the hospital parking lot. He approached me as soon as he saw me. I hadn’t worked with him or even seen him since the night Ricky got hurt and Twitch got wasted, bloody, and hateful about Ricky being himself at the bar.
“I know you probably aren’t talking to me, but I have something to show you that might be important in figuring out who beat your friend.”
“His name is Ricky.”
“Ricky. Come on, Lorraine. Don’t be like this. This is me, Twitch. I’m, I’m… Don’t you remember who I am?”
“Did you have anything to do with Ricky getting hurt?” There. I’d said it. I’d been keeping myself from saying it, but I had thought it.
“What? You think I beat that boy?”
“I know you didn’t think too much of him, your shirt was all torn, and it looked like dried blood on it. I saw it on the floor at your office.”
Twitch stepped closer.
I stepped back.
“Lorraine, I didn’t. I’d never do such a thing.”
“How did your shirt get ripped? Whose blood was on it?” I cried even though I didn’t want to.
“Oh, Lorraine.” His shoulders slumped like maybe both Momma and I were standing on them. “My shirt was a mess because I was some place I shouldn’t have been. Jack Allison came home early. Let’s just say he was less than thrilled finding me visiting with Laura Allison. He grabbed me by my shirt and bloodied my nose. I’m embarrassed to tell you that, but relieved to tell you I didn’t hurt Ricky and I never would.”
Tears burned my eyes. I’d never spent any time hating Twitch before and it wasn’t a comfortable occupation. “I’m sorry I thought what I thought. My brain is confused half the time. Of course, you wouldn’t do that.” I lowered my head. “I’m so tired.” I cried like a teenage girl and blubbered my words. “Charity…we’re done. Ricky and maybe me next. He had ketamine in him. School needs an answer. That creep at Grind’s. I’m so tired.”
Twitch touched my shoulder tentatively and I suppose since I didn’t hit, kick, or bite him he hugged me. “It’s going to be okay, Lorraine. Everything’s going to be okay. Mumble and Shuffle will figure this thing out and then we can get back to normal.”
I don’t remember him hugging me since that day in the cemetery after Becky’s burial when he and I talked for the first time since I found out he was our biological father. Momma had left home disgraced at eighteen. Her dad had accused her of whoring with Allister Grind and said her inattention to her younger brother had led to his accidental death in the corn bin. Momma had run off to Bend. A one-off encounter with Twitch had left her pregnant. She met Joseph a while later, fell in love, and married him knowing she carried his best friend’s baby. Those facts made Momma, Dad, and Twitch the bravest people I ever met.
I leaned into his hug. It felt both good and foreign, probably to him too. He pulled away and fiddled with a clear plastic bag he took from his pocket. He quickly wiped a tear out of his eyes and dangled the bag in front of my face. “That broke off in a wound in Ricky’s thigh. Your dad gave it to me.”
Twitch silently watched as I examined the contents of the bag. The splinter was grayish white except where blood discolored it pinkish-brown. It could have been stone, or bone, or…shit, I know what this is…where it’s from and who…who freed it to use it as a weapon. Shit.
“If I had my guess, I’d say that splintered-off whatever is what they used to stab and beat Ricky.”
“Do you know what this is?” I asked.
“Yeah, I think I do. I wanted to get a second opinion from a good vet.” He gave me a strained smile.
“It’s horn, isn’t it?”
“I think so. It doesn’t prove anything. There’s plenty of horns that get cut off, but it seems like a strange coincidence in my book.”
“I guess fathers and daughters read a lot of the same books. What do we do now?”
“We don’t do anything. I’m going to give this horn to Mumble and Shuffle. I think they will be interested in the evidence. I’ll do a little investigation about where those horns ended up. Killer wasn’t using them anymore, but somebody put them to use.”
“The last time I saw them they were on the floor of the barn—no, that’s wrong. I told Lewis to give them to McGerber and he’d know what to do with them. McGerber!”
“Shit, Lewis and Petey were at the Tavern the other night, but they were busy talking to Dr. Jacks and this guy I didn’t recognize and a half-dozen college girls. I didn’t talk to them.”
“Lewis and Petey or the college girls?”
“Neither.”
I took a balled-up paper out of my pocket and smoothed it out on the hood of my truck. “This is the list Kenny had constructed about who was at the tavern. Can you add anybody to it?”
Twitch traced his finger along each name on the roster. “I’m guessing Kenny meant Lewis and Petey when he wrote farmhands, but there could have been others. They were the only ones I recognized, but I didn’t stay too close; they smelled like they live on a cattle ranch.”
“Lewis and Petey had the horns. Do you think they would have—”
“No, I find that hard to believe. Do you think they would? How did they react to you?”
I remembered the day I first met them and the joke Lewis told about steers and queers. They’d seemed all right after that. We just got the work done. “They treated me okay.”
“Ah hell, I guess we don’t know for sure about anybody.”
I told Twitch about the slick man at Grind’s place and the articles Gerry had shown me.
“I can’t say I’m surprised Grind joined up,” Twitch said. “I find it a little farfetched that it’s connected to what happened to Ricky.”
“Well, if there is a connection, I better figure out who it is fast. I’m bringing Ricky home to our house when he’s well enough.”
“Be careful, Lorraine. It occurs to me and probably hasn’t been lost on you that whoever did this may have some worries about getting found out. They might come back to eliminate the only witness.”
The thought had already crisscrossed my mind a dozen times and now both Gerry and Twitch reminded me of the possibilities. I’m in danger. If somebody in this town beat Ricky for being queer and he only lived here a short time, why wouldn’t they come after the queer who’s been here her whole life and doesn’t go away?
“I’ll be fine.”