Darkness the Color of Snow (25 page)

He's still worried about losing his job, though Gordy has assured him that that's not going to happen. But Gordy and Martin Glendenning hate each other. And Martin is the major political force in the town. He will lose his job. He will lose his truck. He will lose Nessa. He will lose everything he has managed to gain in the last few years. He will end up working with his dad as a carpenter. And with his dad, he will become a drunk, living from job to job.

 

CHAPTER 7

(DAY FOUR)

R
ONNY GETS UP,
unsure he has slept any at all. Mostly, he lay awake thinking, trying to work it all out in his head. After coffee and a slice of bread, he calls Nessa. This time she picks up.

“Where were you?” he asks. This comes out much stronger than he meant it to. And he has a waver in his voice.

“I was out. I didn't have my phone with me. Are you all right?”

“No. I'm not all right. They think I killed Matt. They think I'm a murderer.”

“No,” she says. “No one thinks that.”

“It was on the news. I murdered Matt. They said it. They have a witness. They're going to arrest me for murder.”

“No, Ronny. No. You're overreacting. I was just at Matt's funeral. No one said anything about you.”

“You went to Matt's funeral?”

There's a long silence, then, “Shit. Yes. I went to Matt's funeral. It was kind of an impulse.”

“How could you go to Matt's funeral?”

“I told you. It was an impulse. I thought I needed some closure.”

“Closure on what?”

“Matt. We were together a long time.”

“But you needed closure? You're with me. Isn't that closure?”

“Ronny. You're upset. I don't think we should be having this conversation.”

“I do. I think we have to have this conversation. I'm sitting home, being accused of murder, going to lose my job, everything, and you're getting closure with Matt?”

“Please, Ronny. Calm down.”

“Calm down so everyone in the town can fuck me over?”

“I don't know what they said on the news. I don't know why they said anything on the news. But I know, and everyone I know knows, you didn't kill Matt. He died in an accident. I know that, you know that, and Gordy knows that.”

“Then why are they on the news saying I killed him? And why are you at his funeral?”

“I told you. I need closure.”

“You're still in love with him. You're only with me because you were trying to make him jealous.”

“Ronny. I'm sorry. But that's really stupid.”

“I'm not stupid. You thought I was, but I'm not.”

“Do you want me to come over there? Will you calm down if I come over there?”

“I don't want you here.”

“Ronny. You have to calm down. I don't know how much of this I can take. Let me come over there and we can talk. You'll feel better.”

“You're still in love with Matt Laferiere.”

“I'm not in love with Matt Laferiere. I was once, and there's still a little part of that in me. I loved Matt and I love what he could have been. But I'm not in love with Matt. That's long over. I told you that months ago.”

“You're not in love with me.”

“Ten minutes ago, maybe I could have said I was in love with you. But you're making this very difficult. You want me to love you? Stop acting like Matt. Stop acting like a big angry baby.”

“Don't call me names.”

“Ronny, we shouldn't be having this conversation right now. You're upset, I'm upset. Let's just drop this. Right now. We can talk things through when we're feeling better. Please.”

“I want to drop every goddamned thing that's happened in the last week. Everyone thinks I killed Matt. I didn't. I just did my job.”

“I know that, Ronny. I know you didn't kill him. I know who you are. I trust you.”

“I don't think you do.” He doesn't say good-­bye. He doesn't hang up. He throws the phone against the wall where he just threw the remote control. He lies down, faceup on the sofa. How did things go so wrong? How has his life come completely unraveled? How has Matt Laferiere ruined him, just like he said he would?

A
S SOON AS
Gordy gets into the office, Gordy calls Channel Eight in Warrentown. “I'd like to speak to Renee Lawson. Right now. This is Gordon Hawkins, chief of police in Lydell. This is urgent. I need to talk to her.”

“I'm sorry. Renee isn't here. Can you leave a callback number?”

“I know she's there. I need to speak with her.”

“Sir. She's not here.”

“Then let me speak to the station manager.”

“I'll connect you with Don Flemming. Hold on.”

He waits as the music, some tune he knows, but can't place, whines in his ear. He is shaking with anger.

“Don Flemming. Can I help you?”

“Are you the station manager?”

“No. I'm the news director. Can I help you?”

“This is Gordon Hawkins, chief of police in Lydell. I'm calling about the report you aired last night with Renee Lawson about the hit and run here in Lydell.”

“All right.”

“How the hell do you air a piece like that, accusing my officer of a crime in the middle of a police investigation?”

“I understand you're upset, Chief Hawkins. We vetted that story very thoroughly. We're confident of its veracity.”

“Thoroughly,” Gordy scoffs. “Why wasn't I consulted about this? I want a retraction. Now.”

“It's my understanding that Renee tried to contact you. Several times. We're not going to retract it. We're confident of our source. We can give you airtime if you want to challenge it.”

“Who's your source?”

“I can't tell you that. We promised confidentiality on that. It's a solid source.”

“I'll get a court order.”

“Well, you can do that. I don't think it would help. Renee's adamant that she's not going to reveal the source.”

“We'll see about that. You're destroying my officer with some bogus accusations. This is completely irresponsible.”

“Chief, I don't think it is. If you want to get a court order to try and force Renee to reveal the source, you're welcome to, of course. But I don't think Renee is going to back down on this, and the station will stand behind her. As I said, if you want airtime, we will certainly give you that. We made several attempts to get you to comment before we went to air.”

“You shouldn't have aired this without consulting me.”

“We tried, Mr. Hawkins. We tried.”

“I'll see you in court.”

W
HEN HE HANGS
up, he immediately calls Ronny, but it goes to voice mail. “Ronny, this is Gordy. Call me as soon as you get this message. I'm at home. I'll be waiting for your call.”

The day passes slowly. Pete takes Sean Gross to Warrentown to await his arraignment, then takes the rest of the day off. Gordy checks and rechecks Pete's report for the town council meeting for lack of anything better to do. All in all, things are coming together, and, despite the news report last night, the hit-­and-­run case is as good as closed.

G
ORDY NEEDS SOME
dinner, but he doesn't want to stop at Edna's or even the Market Basket where he will be fair game for anyone with an opinion on the whole business, and that seems to him like everyone. So he stops at the Citgo, gets a loaf of bread and a can of tuna fish, a diet Pepsi and a one-­pound bag of Peanut M&M's, figuring he will need the energy from the sugar, and if not, he will need the comfort of eating something he really likes. He doesn't really need a drink, but he could use an AA meeting.

He drives his cruiser to the town meeting hall and parks it across the street, not in the police department lot where ­people might come to find him, but on the roadside. His plan is to make himself a poor tuna sandwich, but he doesn't have a can opener for the tuna. He could walk to the office, where there is one, but he stays in the cruiser. He opens the bag of M&M's and takes a handful and pops it in his mouth, a few at a time. He has eaten so many frozen M&M's that he feels there is something lacking in this new, unfrozen bag.

He tries Ronny again, but it goes directly to voice mail. He wants to tell Ronny not to come to the meeting, fearing that Ronny will become a magnet for the Glendenning crowd. If most of the ­people in town have not heard the Channel Eight report, they will have at least heard of it. He wants to control the meeting, turn the discussion, when it comes, to the arrest of Sean Gross. He grabs another handful of M&M's.

A crowd is starting to build around the meeting hall, tight clusters of party faithful, more Republicans than Democrats, he notices, and looser clusters of neighbors and families, some ­couples and singles, just standing and waiting for the doors to open. Mostly, they huddle in their parkas and overcoats, stomping their feet on the frozen ground. He looks around for Martin Glendenning, but doesn't see him. About five ­people have keys to the meeting hall, and Gordy is one of them. He looks for someone else—­Lois, the town clerk, Sam Peterson, the director of public works—­but he sees none of them.

He shuts down the cruiser and gets out, walks across the street, and begins making his way through the crowd. A ­couple of ­people say hello, call his name, and someone pats him on the back. The rest just watch him and step back as he makes his way to the door. He unlocks the door and pulls it open. A wave of hot air pushes out. At least someone has come in earlier and turned up the heat. ­People start streaming in. Some acknowledge him, some ignore him. He guesses it's pretty easy to tell where he stands right now. He feels sacrificial.

“You trying to take my job?” Martin Glendenning asks, putting his arm around Gordy's shoulder and patting him on the back.

“I wouldn't have your job for anything, Martin.”

“Take my job. Please.” He laughs heartily at his own wit. Gordy smiles a tight smile. Martin holds out his hand. “Hope things go well for both of us, tonight, or at least for the town.”

­People continue to file in, in a steady stream. He's never seen this many ­people at a town council meeting. Pete comes in and takes Gordy by the arm and leads him to the back of the room. “Where'd the bitch on TV get that witness?” Pete asks.

“Don't know. I called the station this morning, but they're keeping it to themselves. It's got to be one of the passengers, but the station isn't talking.”

­“People in here are going to talk. I stopped in the office. Steve says we've had more than thirty calls so far demanding that we arrest Ronny, or at least fire him.”

“What can you say?”

“Thanks for your concern.”

“Does your mastery of irony ever feel ironic to you?”

“All the time, Gordy. All the time. Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“Back door.”

Gordy turns and looks and sees Ronny Forbert sidling in. “Son of a bitch.”

Pete puts his hand on Gordy's shoulder. “I'm going back there and get him out of here.”

“Yeah. Good. Get him out.” Gordy watches Pete make his way down the aisle toward the back door and Ronny. When Pete gets to Ronny, he can see Pete take Ronny's arm and then the two of them exchange words. He hears the gavel and turns back to the front.

“Please. Please. Can we come to order?” Martin Glendenning says. “Now.” He waits for a few seconds and then gavels again. “Order. Order. I'm calling this meeting to order.” The noise in the room slowly falls as ­people break off their conversations and find their seats. “We have a lot of business to get to this evening, and I know there is considerable interest in the events of the past few days. So that everyone can have a fair say, I'm asking that we dispense with the minutes of the November meeting. There are copies up at the front table, which you may take and read. Call the town clerk's office if you have corrections to the minutes, and those will be made for the January meeting. So that we can get to matters at hand, I'm going to ask that we start with reports from public works, the fire department, and then the police department. Warren, can you start off with the report from public works?”

Warren Anders stands up and makes his way to the front of the room, holding a ­couple of sheets of paper. “Town plow and sander number three is out of commission due to a broken clutch plate. Since there is snow forecast for tomorrow, I have asked Bernie Saunders to take over that route as a private contractor, which is Route 417 north from mile eighty-­eight, and the streets that intersect that up to the state line. We're still within budget right now. Whether we stay on budget depends on the weather, which seems ahead of schedule as far as snow is concerned, and if the cost of repairs on plow three comes in close to estimate. Larry.”

Several ­people laugh and Larry says, “I just fix the plows. You want to keep costs down, talk to the guys who break them.”

“Warren,” Tod Shanley says. “Would you ask Bernie to put the blade on his plow all the way down on Ramsneck Road? He always leaves about an inch of snow on the road.”

“Ramsneck Road is like plowing an alligator's back. It's so rough, if I put the blade all the way down, I'll rip up a good half of the macadam,” Bernie says.

“Who paved that road?”

“I did.”

“Were you drunk at the time, Bernie?” More laughter.

Martin gavels the room back to order. “Let's keep this moving. We have a lot to get to tonight.”

Gordy feels his stomach start to tighten.

“Fred Lemke will give the fire report.”

“Fire department report for the month of November. The fire department issued eighteen permits for the burning of leaves during the month. There was one call-­out for a brush fire on Porter Road that was extinguished by crew number two, with the help of the pumper truck. There was no property damage. That's all of the activity for November. Respectfully submitted, Fred Lemke.”

“Thank you, Fred. Next, I'll call on Chief Gordon Hawkins to give the police report. Please let the chief give his report before you start to ask questions. Also, remember that you are not to speak until I have recognized you. Chief.”

Gordy stands up. He has delivered these reports every month for ten years. But now he can feel his hands trembling, and his mouth is going dry. “Police report for the month of November. The Lydell Police Department made twenty-­three arrests during the period—­nineteen driving under the influence, one assault, one disturbing the peace, one breaking and entering, one possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute. In these cases, all have been arraigned. Twenty-­one have pled out, and two are currently awaiting trial.