An End to a Silence: A mystery novel (The Montana Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

Cherry
had her coat on and was turning lights out. Ward was the last customer and was
getting ready to leave. He wasn’t sure at first what the low rumble was but
then he realized it was Jesús growling and, at the same time he realized that,
he saw the man enter the diner. Cherry called, “We’re closed, sorry,” and then
she saw the man and her face hardened.

“Everything
okay?” Ward asked.

“
It’s
fine,” Cherry said, but Ward could see it wasn’t fine.
“You can go.”

“I’d just
as rather wait here if that’s agreeable, ma’am,” Ward said. Cherry didn’t
bother to argue but her confidence seemed to drain right away like a wrung
sponge as she moved closer to him.

The man hunched
himself up against the cold, his flimsy baseball jacket and cap not offering
much insulation. Ward noticed he looked dirty. And thin. The man paused at the
door and looked over the diner, and then he briskly walked up to the counter.
His eyes were on Ward and Ward returned the stare. The man shrugged and looked
at Cherry.

“This is
a private matter,” he said without loosening his gaze on Cherry.

“
S’okay
,” Cherry said. “What do you want?”

“I want
some privacy.” And then he turned to Ward. “So if you wouldn’t mind, cowboy.”
He waved Ward away.

Ward
stood his ground, said nothing, and the man sniffed loudly and wiped snot on
his jacket sleeve.

“You
either butt out or I knock you out,” he said to Ward, but Ward remained unmoved
by the threat.

“Troy,
say what you gotta say to me and get the hell out of here,” Cherry said,
finding a crumb of confidence, drawn from Ward’s presence.

“You
ain’t saying a lot, cowboy. Cat got your tongue?”

Ward felt
his eyes drying as he hadn’t blinked since the man had entered the diner. “I’m
the strong, violent type,” he said, and the man called Troy made an exaggerated
gesture of surprise and then laughed nervously. His eyes seemed like they were
doing a quick calculation and then he looked at Cherry again.

“Fuck it,
then. Cherry, I need some money, so please”—he held out his right hand—“kindly
oblige.”

Ward kept
quiet.

“Ain’t
got nothing to give. And ain’t giving nothing. No more, Troy. No more.”

Troy
smiled. “I don’t think you heard me. I need some money. Now please kindly oblige
and give me some fucking money.”

Ward
remained completely still but his muscles tensed.

Cherry
spoke again but this time louder. “I will tell you one last time, Troy. I am
not giving you any more money. I’m finished with that. Finished. You listening
to me? So please leave.”

“Hmm.
Well, I guess I will just have to take what I come for, won’t I, bitch.”

And
Troy’s hand shot out in Cherry’s direction, but before it had half crossed the
distance between them, Ward’s hand flashed out and grabbed Troy’s arm. In one
fluid movement he squeezed and twisted the arm and with his other hand shoved
Troy’s upper body onto the counter. His hand slid up Troy’s back and grabbed
the back of his head, slamming his temple into the marble effect surface of the
countertop. Troy let out a startled yelp. Jesús barked and pounced and Cherry
snatched his airborne leash just in time to stop him sinking his teeth into
Troy.

“Now, I
don’t know if your hearing is impaired there, but I heard the lady tell you
loud and clear that she wanted you to leave, so we can do this the easy way or
the hard way. From my experience of these situations, and I’ve been involved in
one or two of them, the easy way is the most salubrious. So I’m the generous
kind and I’ll give you a couple of seconds to think that over. Give me a holler
when you’ve made up your mind. Jesús. Quiet.” And he squeezed Troy’s neck,
crunched his face into the countertop and twisted his arm up his back, and
before two seconds had elapsed Troy was ready to choose.

“Okay,
okay. Let me up. I’m going, I’m going. I don’t want no trouble.” And his voice
was now more of a whimper. Ward squeezed hard on his neck and then released,
shoving Troy away as he did so. Troy stumbled and nearly fell but managed to
steady himself as his momentum carried him towards the door. He spun around.

“This is
not over, bitch. And your new fucking boyfriend had better fucking watch out.”

Ward made
a movement as if to lunge at Troy and Troy was out the door quicker than a
cockroach. He looked back through the window, but then turned and jogged down
the street, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

Cherry
turned to Ward, tears pooling in reddened eyes. “I am so sorry about that.” She
fell into Ward’s arms and he stroked her head.

“Now,
there’s no need to apologize there, missy. None whatsoever.” She let the tears
flow now. “I’m guessing that’s your marital history right there.”

Through a
sob Cherry said, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to sort out a few issues.”

“He into
you for money?” Ward asked.

“He has a
habit. I offered to feed him food but all he wants is to feed his habit.”

“What’s
he into?”

“Oh,
everything. Anything he can get his hands on. He’ll do anything to get high.”

“But he
ain’t getting high tonight.”

“He’ll probably
end up knocking over a pharmacy tonight. Wouldn’t surprise me none.”

Ward’s
bright blue eyes widened and then shrunk into a squint. “He steal morphine?”

“Oh,
he’ll take anything looks like high. He’d kill for it if he wasn’t such a
coward.”

Ward loosened
his grip on Cherry and pinched at his chin.

“I told
him no more but he comes back and I never had the strength to say no till now.
Till now.” She stared into Ward’s eyes. “And now I’m scared he’s gonna do
something dumb.”

“He ain’t
going to do a damned thing while I’m here. That I guarantee you, ma’am.”

Cherry
sniffled and laughed at the same time. “I love how you call me ma’am. Makes me
feel like someone important somehow.”

Jesús let
out an audible sigh and they both laughed.

“You mind
if I walked you home?”

“That’s
okay. I can find my own way home.”

“You
don’t need to be being brave now. You have been threatened and it would make me
feel a whole lot better if you let me escort you, make sure you get home in one
piece.”

“I got to
stop at the bank deposit.”

“There
you go. You’ve got cash and—”

“Okay,
all right. I’ll take the escort. Sheesh.” Cherry smiled when she said it.

The boy
is in the boat. Bill O’Donnell had been relieved that the boat was still there
but at the same time had known it would be. Nobody came to this part of the
lake unless they had a good reason to and he couldn’t see no reason, good or
otherwise, to bother. No paths led to this point – the elk-carved track skirted
off north and to backtrack south would mean picking your way through thick
woodland where tangled scrub had also taken in the places trees had been felled
and then later replanted and even the most determined explorer would most
likely not want to pick their way through here. The boat had lasted over twenty
years, thirteen of those since O’Donnell had left the woods in ’72, but he had
been back many times and had regularly patched it up and retouched it with
Shellac. A tarpaulin cover, tied off at bow and stern and weighted down with
rocks, had kept the weather out.

He
carefully places the boy in the boat and then climbs into it himself and the
early morning orange glow of the sun swathes the lake and jumps off in bright
flashes, sparkling from the small waves that are pinched up by the gentle
breeze that blows from the west, sweeping down off the mountains. He embraces
the beauty of that and his exhausted mind grabs at each twinkle, taken as a
moment of solace, but, each time he grabs, his grief rips the moment from him
and lets it drown again. This makes his heart leap up and down and in his
shattered state he thinks for a minute that it will burst open and reveal a
thick black goo of cold congealed blood. And then he vomits over the side of
the boat but hardly anything comes out. The retching makes his body shudder and
tense and he suddenly feels every single step he has taken in every muscle in
his body.

He wipes
his mouth on the back of his hand and he places one oar in one of the oarlocks
and, with the other, pushes himself off. He will stay close to the shore and
that will take him longer but he feels like he wants to be near firm ground
without knowing why he feels that.

He
constantly fears he will fall overboard and drown and not be able to finish
what he has started and that wearies him ever more and then he sleeps while
still rowing and he knows that an unseen force is rowing for him and when he
wakes he sees his wife and he sees his daughter and they are calling him from
the shore and he turns to them and waves and they both wave back with both arms
and he sees that they are distressed as they run along to keep up with his
swift row strokes and he hurts so badly in muscle and spirit and he cries and
cries out time and time again but then he wakes again and he is silent and the
world is silent save for the slushing of the water against the bow. And he
wonders where the morning birds are and he feels cold in his sweat.

He’s
nearly there.

They
dropped the cash off at the bank deposit and stopped at a bar called Ned’s Yard
and Ward ordered two beers.

Cherry
said, “You planning on staying in a motel forever or getting something more
permanent?”

“I’m
planning on staying in the motel for a spell. See how it goes.”

“This
town is better for having you. My experience of the police. Well…”

“I meant
what I said back there,” Ward said, “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“My
hero,” Cherry said as she removed her coat and scarf and hung them on the back
of the bar stool where she sat. “So, tell me a little about yourself, cowboy.
What’s the story?”

“Not a
deal to tell, ma’am.”

“There
must be something. Where did you grow up? What schooling did you get? What made
you become a cop?”

He
decided to answer the last question and left the others floating. “My
great-grandfather was a Texas Ranger. My granddaddy too. My dad broke the chain
and became a teacher but I decided I wanted to follow in my ancestors’
footsteps. Sounded exciting, way my granddaddy used to tell it.”

“And it
isn’t?” she asked.

“Well,
you know. It’s a job and not as glamorous as all that. It brought me here so I
got to meet you and I’m glad for that.” He took a long, slow drink of beer then
so that he couldn’t talk for a few moments. Give Cherry a chance to speak.

“You ever
get scared? I mean of desperate people doing something foolish and shooting
you?”

“No,
ma’am.”

She
leaned back and took a good long stare at him. “You, sir, have a very nice way
about you.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank
you,” he said, and wiped the cheek.

“
It’s
bad luck to wipe off a kiss you know.”

“It is?”

“Sure it
is,” she said, and she kissed him again. “Don’t you dare wipe that one off,”
she said.

“No,
ma’am,” Ward said, and she playfully punched him on the arm and he faked pain.

They
talked for two more beers. When she had told him she had a daughter, she said
she hadn’t mentioned it before because she’d thought it might put him off.

“Now why
would it do that?” Ward asked.

“You
know. Not all guys like a ready-made family.” And then she realized what she
had said and quickly corrected herself. “Not that we’re now a family or
anything.
Fuck, that
ought to scare you off!”

“I don’t
scare easily,” Ward said.

Cherry
told Ward that five-year-old Laurie was with her grandparents over in Bozeman
for a couple of days, feeling under the weather. Actually, they were Troy’s
parents but they had disowned him a while ago on account of his various issues.
They were nice normal people, Cherry had said, and she wanted them to play a
role in Laurie’s upbringing. Troy, wisely, stayed away. His father Joe, an
old-fashioned type who espoused hundred-and-fifty-year-old Montana values when
it came to drug abuse, had said he would shoot Troy down dead if he ever
stepped on his porch again. He took good care of his guns and Cherry didn’t for
a minute doubt that he would use them if Troy did show.

Cherry’s
own parents had leapfrogged Idaho and landed in Spokane following work and they
weren’t as accessible and, besides, she had her issues with her mother, and her
father for that matter. They weren’t ‘live in your pocket’ parents. They got on
with their own lives and were biding their time before they retired down to
Florida, at which point, Cherry assumed, she would probably only see them once
a year on one of the major holidays. She was kind of philosophical about it and
that surprised Ward, who was close to his family even though he didn’t see them
much either. But he talked to his mom and grandmother regularly by phone. His
mother had tried to get him hooked up on Skype but that sort of thing just
confused and exasperated Ward.

“Thank
you, cowboy, for an unexpected evening” was the last thing Cherry said to Ward
at her door. She kissed him briefly on the mouth and he didn’t wipe it off. As
he left he thought suddenly of Alice White and that made him feel uneasy and he
wanted to go back to Cherry but didn’t know why. He told himself he would call
her when he got back to the motel but he realized he didn’t have her number.
When he did get back, he lay on the bed and stared at the dreamcatcher and knew
that sleep was way beyond the horizon.