Blind Justice (29 page)

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Authors: James Scott Bell

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Blind Justice
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She slumped slightly in her chair. Whatever she knew was going to stay inside her, where it was already acting like an acid on her basic decency. She had reached a crossroads and decided her direction. I felt sorry for her.
I stood up and walked toward the kitchen door. Sylvia’s voice stopped me. “A word of advice, Mr. Denney.”
“Yes?”
“Let it go. Things can only get worse for you if you don’t let it go.”“Thanks a lot, Sylvia,” I said. “See you in court.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I HAD ONE last crazy idea, crazier even than driving without a license in a town, as they say, without pity.
Frisbee’s was hopping as always. I parked at the far end of the lot and used the moon and whatever light spilled out of the saloon to search the other cars. I didn’t see Darcy Hazelton’s car, but that’s not why I was here.
I popped my head inside and looked around. The blonde waitress I’d met my first time here was serving a station of tables, all full. I went in anyway.
Though there was a lot of noise and activity, I still felt like I was in one of those cartoons where the eyes are staring at you from a dark forest.
The waitress, holding a tray of drinks by a table, looked up and recognized me. I could tell by the smile. The smile quickly faded, and she shot a glance at the bar. Then she glanced back at me with a nod of her head toward the back. She wanted me to go there.
I walked to the back of the place near the bathrooms and waited. I scanned the whole place from where I was.
She joined me and pulled my arm toward the back exit. Next thing I knew we were out in the night air in relative quiet.
“You shouldn’t come around here,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Look, there’s people who know about you. I’ve heard them talk. You’re a big deal.”
“I needed to ask you some questions. Are you on break?”
“I shouldn’t talk to you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you’re in some kind of trouble. I don’t really care one way or the other, but I don’t want to see anybody hurt, you know? Why don’t you just leave Hinton?”
“Why would anyone want to hurt me?”
“You should just go.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
She hesitated and looked me in the eye. “April,” she said.
“I need to ask you about Darcy Hazelton.”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
“That whole family’s crazy. I don’t want my name in this. I don’t want to have to go to court.”
“I just need some information, that’s all. I won’t call you as a witness or anything.”
She appeared to be thinking about it.
“Please,” I said.
“Hurry.”
“I think Darcy Hazelton killed Rae Patino. I think he was having an affair with her, and she got pregnant. He went to see her to talk her into having an abortion. That just happened to be when Howie Patino showed up. Darcy heard all this, got a knife from the kitchen, and then hid in the bathroom while Howie was pleading with Rae about his marriage. When Rae started talking about the kid to Howie, Darcy came in and shut her up. He got to Howie too, then escaped through the bathroom window.”
April’s mouth fell open slightly. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“You know this town pretty well. People say things. Maybe you’ve heard something. Anything.”
“Not about this.”
“Nothing?”
“Sorry.” An empty feeling opened up inside me, and I was about to pack it in and head home when April said, “Just one thing.”
I snapped at it. “What?”
“About what you just said.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think it happened that way.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she said, “Darcy Hazelton is gay.”
“What?”
“Sure.”
“I was told he was a ladies’ man.”
“By whom?”
“Somebody who knew him . . . Hang Ten or something.”
“Hang Creswell?”
“That’s the guy.”
April laughed dismissively. “Hang Creswell hardly knows his own name, he’s so out of it. His brain should be sent to Harvard for marijuana research.”
“How do you know all this?”
“The way you know things. This ain’t a large town, in case you haven’t noticed. I got to go. You should take off. Leave things alone here.”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “Can I tip you for your time?”
She smiled and shook her head. “It’s okay. You probably need that more than I do.”
I waited until she disappeared inside, then walked to the edge of the dark hillside at the rear of the place. Out in the distance was the highway that led to and from the town of Hinton. A sparkling of headlights was moving toward the town, and a stream of red taillights was moving away.
Suddenly an odd feeling hit me, as if I had finally come to an understanding of some deep, mysterious secret. It felt like one of those word problems I had in elementary school. They never came easily to me, and I’d agonize over them until that moment when, all of sudden, everything was clear.
Looking down at the cars below, I knew it was all meaningless. Every car had a person inside it. Every person was driving somewhere. But it didn’t matter where, because this was a world, a life, that would end, and it was empty without some meaning that was above it all. I realized then that this is what Pascal had said in different ways, and now I knew he was right.
So what should I do now? Jump off the hill? Pascal had also written that we must all choose sides in this question of God. For or against. And if you looked at it like a bet, which would be the better choice? Choose God, and if you lose, if there is no God, you lose nothing, really. Choose against God, and if you’re wrong, you lose everything.
My body filled with a longing to choose something that would be the final answer. Before I could think of anything else, I heard the crunch of gravel from behind me.
Turning, I saw three dark figures. They were shadows, backlit by the lights of the tavern. But there was no doubt about their intentions. That’s when I knew.
“Hello, Darcy,” I said.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.
And just how did he know I
was
here? I mentally fingered that the bartender or some other regular who knew Darcy and also me told him. My face was now well known in these parts, thanks to local TV and the
Hinton Valley News.
“It’s a great country, isn’t it?” I said. “Free.”
“Not here.”
The outlines of the other two showed weight-lifter arms and V-shaped bodies. This was going to hurt. I had to think fast. “What were you doing visiting Rae Patino at night?”
The silence was testimony to confusion. Then he said, “What are you talking about?”
“A witness can testify about your car being at Patino’s house. Now what about it?”
“You got no witness.”
“You weren’t having an affair with her, we all know that.”
One of his man friends made a move toward me, but Darcy stopped him. “You better tell me everything you think you know,” he said.
“I intend to,” I said. “Maybe you were seeing her to protect somebody. But who?”
He waited like a coiled spring.
“The Captain,” I said, revealing the information to myself the moment I said it. “It was your father who was having the affair with Rae Patino.”
“You don’t—”
“Did you kill her to keep her quiet? Or did your father do it?”
His response was a scream, then a charge. All three converged with a dark fury.
I made a move to the right, slipping on the tiny rocks, but with enough force to get clear of the initial thrust. A hand grabbed my left arm for an instant before I ripped free.
I headed for the front of the building, hearing grunts behind me. Then I went down.
Someone had hold of my legs.
I hit the ground hard. Tiny jags shot into my forehead. I could feel the warmth of blood drops appearing. Then I was lifted up like I was a mannequin.
My arms were held behind me tightly. I could see Darcy standing off to the side. The other muscle boy was right in front of me, and then he punched me on the side of the face. It felt like a brick.
“Hold it,” Darcy said.
There was a clanging in my head like the bells of Notre Dame. And I was sure my soon-to-be reworked face would make me look like Quasimodo. I sensed Darcy’s face next to mine. “You don’t know nothing,” he said.
“Maybe I do,” I answered, having no idea what I would say next. I just wanted to delay the inevitable beating as long as possible.
“I could snuff you,” said Darcy.
“You won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Too many witnesses know you don’t like me. Why don’t you like me, Darcy?”
“You got no idea what I could do. You got no idea what goes on in this town. You’re nothing here. I could make it look like an -accident.”
“Or set somebody up, like you did with Howie Patino?”
The goon who held me yanked me upward. I’d been slumping. Darcy’s breath was hot on my face, his breath sour like he’d had a few beers. At that moment I felt a double shot of disgust—for Darcy and for myself, for having smelled like Darcy too many times to count.
“You know what I’m gonna do?” Darcy said. “I’m gonna use you as an example. I’m actually gonna do it, and that’ll show him.”
“Show who?”
At that moment the goon who had hit me across the face said, “Hey, Darce?”
“What?” Hazelton snapped.
“You’re not really gonna off him, are you?”
Whirling with obvious rage, Darcy said, “We’ll do what I say!”
“I thought we were just gonna mess him up.”
“You listen to me!”
“No,” I said, “don’t listen to him.”
“Shut up!” Darcy slapped me across the face. It didn’t hurt anything like the fist I’d gotten. “Carl,” he said softly, “I’ll take care of it. You know I can.”
“I know,” Carl said, “but I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
I felt just the faintest loosening of the grip on my arms. The still unnamed muscle boy who held me was probably just as fascinated with this debate as I was. Darcy was losing control of his little world.
And I might not have another chance. Using the only weapon at my disposal, I snapped my head back as hard as I could. The crushing feeling told me I’d hit paydirt in the form of a nose. The guy who had me screamed—actually screamed—and let go of my arms.
Out of old schoolyard instinct, I kicked out as hard as I could. I didn’t get Carl where it counted most, but I did get him in the knee.
Darcy tried to grab my arm, but his grip was not nearly as strong as his buddy’s. I yanked away and pushed Darcy in the chest, and then I broke into a sprint, heading for the hillside.
I figured that was my only hope.I heard Darcy yell, “Get him!” followed by the scuffing of feet on gravel. I didn’t bother to look behind me. Instead, like a long jumper, I took a leap over the edge and into the cold darkness below.

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