Down River (30 page)

“All of what?”

“The girls. The drinking. The fights.” She broke down again. “He was worth it. I loved him.”

Her voice fell off and I prompted her. “He hit you?” I asked.

“No.” Weak voice. “He didn’t hit me. That’s just what I said. I was mad.”

“What happened?”

“I wanted to hurt him, but you can’t tell the cops, okay? They asked me the other day, and I told ’em that he had. I was scared to change my story.” She paused. “I just wanted to show him.”

“You were angry.”

When she looked up, I saw the black gulf behind shining, blue eyes. “He tried to break up with me. He said it was over. What happened to my face.… That was my fault. Not his.”

“How so?”

“He didn’t hit me, like I told the cops. He was trying to walk away and I was pulling on his arm. He jerked it and I tripped on a stool. I fell into that window.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “He’s gone. The warrant means nothing.”

But she was crying slow, oily tears, her head loose on her neck. “I put the cops on him. I chased him into hiding. Maybe that’s what got him killed.”

“Was he into something illegal?”

She shook her violently, either answering in the negative or refusing to answer at all. I couldn’t tell. I asked her again. No answer.

“Gambling?”

A nod, eyes closed.

“Is that who beat him up four months ago? The people that took his bets?”

“You know about that?”

“Who handled his bets, Candy?”

She choked up. “They beat him so bad—”

“Who?” I pushed.

“I don’t know. Danny said they’d been looking for him. They went to the motel. They went to the farm. He went missing for a while beforehand. I think he was hiding from them. You should ask Jamie. He’s your brother, right?”

“Why should I ask Jamie?”

“He and Danny ran around a bunch. Went to the ball games and the gambling clubs. Dogfights somewhere out in the county. Cockfights. Anything they could bet on. They came home with a new car once, won it from some guy over in Davidson County.” She smiled thinly. “It was a junker. Two days later, they traded it for beer and a moped. They were friends, but Danny said once that he couldn’t trust Jamie the way he trusted you. Said Jamie had a cruel streak in him.” She shrugged. “He really missed you.”

She was still crying a little, and I needed to think about what she’d said. She was the second person to think that Jamie and Danny were mixed-up in gambling together. George Tallman had said basically the same thing. I considered the implications. I gave her a second. The hard question was coming up. “Why was he breaking up with you, Candy?”

She tilted her head so far to the side that I saw nothing but baseball cap and dry hair bleached to the color of soap. When she spoke, I could tell that the words hurt. “He was in love. He wanted to change his life.”

“In love with who?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“No idea?”

She looked up, unforgiving, and the scar twisted when she spoke. “Some whore.”

   I called Robin as Candy Kane walked away from me. I heard traffic sounds when she answered. “How’s it going?” I asked.

“Slowly. The good news is that the sheriff’s office has, indeed, been looking for Zebulon Faith. I’ve spoken to some of the same people, covered a lot of the same ground. Bad news is, I’m getting the same answers. Wherever Faith went to ground, it’s out of his name or off the grid.”

“What do you mean?”

“I checked with the utility companies for Rowan and surrounding counties. As far as I can tell, he has no other properties, nothing with a phone or power hookup. I’ve got other irons in the fire. I’ll keep you posted.”

“I just spoke to Candace Kane.”

“Grantham spoke to her yesterday.”

“What did she tell him?”

“I’m off the case, remember? I’m the last person Grantham will talk to. All I know is that he tracked her down.”

“She told Grantham that Danny hit her and that she hated him for it. That’s not entirely the truth. She loved him. He dumped her right before he died. Could be a motive.”

“You think she’s capable?”

“Of murder?” I looked up as Candace mounted the stairs. Her long legs pumped beneath pink, terry cloth shorts. The extra weight on her jiggled. “I don’t see it,” I said. “But she has four brothers. They may not like the scar on her face.”

“That’s a viable motive, but again… it was Dolf’s gun. I’ll run the names and see if any of them have a sheet. Who knows. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

She did not sound hopeful, and I understood. It all came back to the gun. It only made sense if Danny took the gun himself and somehow lost control of it. And that was thin. Danny knew how to handle himself. “Do you think Faith knows that his son is dead?”

“That depends on how deep he’s hiding.”

“Danny might have been into gambling. It looks like somebody beat him pretty badly four months ago. Might be gambling related.”

“Says who?”

“Candace Kane. George Tallman.”

“George, huh?”

I heard the disdain in her voice. “What do you have against him?”

“He’s an idiot.”

“Seems like more than that.”

She hesitated and I knew she was thinking about the question. “I don’t trust him.”

“Any particular reason?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve been a police officer for more than a few years. I know a lot of cops and a lot of criminals, and, in some ways, the two aren’t that different. Criminals have their good sides, if you can find them. Cops can run dark. You understand? Cops can’t be saints. The job won’t allow it. Too many bad people in your life. Too many bad days, bad decisions. It accumulates. Likewise, criminals are rarely bad all the time. They have kids. They have parents. Whatever. They’re human. Spend enough time around anyone, and you should see hints of both sides. That’s human nature. You see what I’m saying?”

“I think so.”

“I’ve worked with George Tallman for four years. I’ve never seen his dark side.”

“What’s your point?”

“Nobody is that easy. Nobody is that level, least of all a cop.”

She was wrong. I’d known George since he was in high school. He could not hide a feeling if he had to. I let it go, chalked it up to cynicism born of long years wearing a shield. “What about the gambling? Do you think there could be some tie-in there? Something to link it to Danny’s death? Candace Kane said that these bookies came looking for Danny. They went to the motel. They went to the farm. Have you seen anything that might support that kind of motive? Danny was killed on the farm.”

“There are some big game-makers in Charlotte. Highly profitable, highly illegal. If he was in over his head, it could get ugly.”

“Is anybody going to check it out?”

Her voice was not without pity. “Dolf confessed. Nobody is looking for alternate explanations. Any jury in the country would convict him.”

“Grantham has doubts about motive,” I said.

“It’s not up to Grantham. It’s up to the sheriff and he isn’t going to waste time or money when he already has what he wants.”

“Grantham thinks that Dolf might have confessed to protect my father.” Robin was silent. “That’s stupid, right?”

More silence.

“Robin?”

“Grantham’s smart. I’m trying to see this from his perspective. I’m thinking.”

“Well, think out loud.”

“Whoever killed Danny would have to know about the crack up on the knob.”

“That could be anybody. We used to have parties up there. Shoot skeet. I could name a hundred people that have been up there.”

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate, Adam. Danny’s killer would have to be strong enough to get the body in the hole. Your father has no handguns of his own, but has access to Dolf’s gun cabinet. Danny worked for him off and on. Plenty of opportunity for problems to fester. Did he have any reason to be upset with Danny?”

“I have no idea,” I said, but then thought of Jamie’s gambling. Danny was a bad influence. The family was short on cash.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you. Nothing makes sense without a motive.”

“For now, I’m going to assume that Danny’s death has something to do with the power plant or with his gambling. Whoever took his bets has already assaulted him once. I need to look into that.”

“Don’t. Not in Charlotte. Those guys are heavy hitters. They don’t like people messing around in their business. Cross the wrong one down there and you may find yourself in a world of trouble. I’m not kidding. I won’t be able to help you.”

I pictured Danny, spoiling for a fight then coming home to drink alone. Dolf, in a cell. Grace crumbling from the inside out. Grantham’s insinuation that Dolf was lying to protect my father. There was a piece missing, and somebody, somewhere knew what it was. I had no choice but to dig where I could. Deep down, Robin had to recognize that.

“I have to do something,” I said.

“Don’t, Adam. I’m asking you.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, and continued before she could question the lie. “You’ll check on the brothers?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“I doubt it means anything, but I’m guessing that Candy Kane wasn’t the only woman Danny dumped.”

“What do you mean?”

“Danny lived at the motel. We went through his room after his body was found. One of the windows was broken, patched with cardboard from a shoe box. On a dresser we found a rock sitting on top of a note. The note was yellow paper, unfolded, rock sitting on it like a paperweight. Looked like someone had wrapped the note around the rock and tossed it through the window. The rubber band was still on the rock. The Mexican guy, Emmanuel, thought he remembered that happening shortly before Danny went missing.”

“What did the note say?”

“ ‘Fuck you, too.’ ”

“How do you know it was from a woman?”

“Lip prints where a signature should be. Bright red lipstick.”

“Perfect,” I said.

“Sounds to me like Danny Faith was cleaning house.”

   I called Jamie and got his voice mail. I left another message. Call me. Now. We need to talk. I hung up the phone, took a couple of steps, then opened it again. The fire was in me, and Jamie was part of it. Candace said he was still gambling, he and Danny. He’d lied to me about that. He should have called me back yesterday. I hit redial, and he answered on the second ring. I heard his breath first, then his voice, sullen and petulant. “What do you want, Adam?”

“Why didn’t you call me back?”

“Look, I’ve got shit to do.”

“I’m going to cut to the chase, Jamie. I found Danny’s girlfriend.”

“Which one?”

“The one that filed the warrant. Candace Kane.”

“Candy? I remember Candy.”

“She says that you’re still gambling. She says that you and Danny would take any game you could find. You lied to me about that.”

“First of all, I don’t answer to you. Second, that wasn’t gambling. That was a hundred bucks here and there. Just an excuse to get out and do something.”

“So, you’re not gambling?”

“Hell, no.”

“I still need the names of those bookies.”

“Why?”

“Danny got beaten up a while back. You remember?”

“He didn’t talk about it, but it was hard to miss. He couldn’t walk for a week. I’m not sure his face ever got over it.”

“I want to talk to whoever did that. Maybe he still owed. Maybe they came looking for him.”

“Well…” The word drew out, like there was nothing coming after it.

“I need them now.”

“Why do you care, Adam? Dolf admitted that he killed Danny. He’s going to fry for it. Fuck him, I say.”

“How can you even think that?”

“I understand that you see sunshine coming out of his ass, but there’s never been any love between me and that old man. In fact, he’s always been a pain. Danny was a buddy of mine. Dolf says he killed him. Why are you messing with that?”

“Do I need to come find you in person? I will do it. I swear to God, I’ll track you down if I have to.”

“Jesus, Adam. What the hell? Just chill.”

“I want the names.”

“I haven’t really had time to find them.”

“That’s crap, Jamie. Where are you? I’m coming there. We’ll go get them together.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez. Keep your pants on. Let me think.” He took more than a minute, then gave me a name. “David Childers.”

“White guy or black guy?”

“Redneck guy. Keeps a pistol in his desk drawer.”

“He’s in Charlotte?”

“He’s local.”

“Where?”

“You sure you want to do this?” Jamie asked.

“Where do I find him, Jamie?”

“He owns the Laundromat by the high school. There’s an office in the back.”

“Is there a back door?”

“Yeah, but it’s steel. You’ll have to go in the front.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t mention my name.” The phone clicked off.

   The Laundromat filled a shady place between an apartment complex surrounded by hurricane fencing and a grand old home on the verge of decay. Nondescript and small, it was easy to miss. Glass windows threw back a rippled reflection of my car as I turned into the lot. I did not park in front, though. Instead, I slipped down the narrow space beside the building and parked where fencing sealed off the back. I climbed the fence, dropped to the other side, and crossed a litter-strewn square of pavement hidden from the street. The steel door stood open, wedged with a cracked chunk of cinder block. The gap was less than a foot wide, air still and damp. I smelled laundry detergent and something along the lines of rotting fruit. Bass-heavy music pumped through the crack in the door.

I edged to the door and looked in. The office was dim and paneled, papers stacked on cabinets, big cheap desk with a fat bald man behind it, swivel chair spun sideways. His pants hung off one ankle. Head tilted back, eyes squeezed tight in a red face. The woman was on her knees, head working like a steam piston. Slender, young, and black, she could pass for sixteen. He had one hand twined in her oily hair, the other locked onto the chair arm so hard I saw tendons popping through the fat.