If You Ever Tell (10 page)

Daniel took a step closer and peered at Caesar’s gentle gaze. “Yeah, they’re pretty.” Then he looked down. “He’s got fuzzy feet like one of those Clyderails.”

“Clydesdales. And yes, he does.” Teresa had brought an apple sliced in quarters and stored in a plastic bag. “Hold out your hand.” Daniel did as he was told and she dumped a piece of apple into his little hand. “Why don’t you try feeding him? Just hold out your hand with the apple slice in the palm. Caesar will take the apple piece right into his mouth.” She looked at Sharon, who already had her mouth open to protest. “Caesar is used to eating out of hands, even children’s. He won’t hurt you, Daniel.”

The little boy stepped closer to the horse and held out the piece of apple. Caesar bent his head and delicately took the apple into his mouth. Daniel giggled. “His lips are so soft and they tickle!”

“I told you. Caesar knows his manners and he loves children.”

Daniel reached for another quarter of the apple and this time chortled when the horse lifted the apple slice and began happily, if messily, munching. After Daniel had given the rest of the fruit to Caesar, he burst out “I want to give him another apple!”

“One is all he needs right now. We don’t want him to get a tummy ache from eating too many snacks.” Teresa smiled as Daniel reached out and stroked the horse’s muzzle. Caesar snorted, then pushed his face more forcefully into Daniel’s hand. “He likes you.”

“And I like him!” Daniel beamed at his aunt. “We’re already good buddies. Can I take my lessons on him?”

“I told you I’d picked him out especially for you. We’ll start tomorrow,” Teresa said. “This is Sunday, Caesar’s day off, but he’ll be waiting for you in the morning.”

“But what if he’s lonely out here all by himself?” Daniel asked plaintively.

Teri smiled. “He’s not all by himself. Horses often make friends with their stablemates. Caesar is very good friends with my horse Eclipse, and the gray Connemara pony on the other side of him is his girlfriend. Her name is Cleopatra. In the meantime, why don’t we go back up to the house and have something to drink? I even baked cookies this morning.”

Ten minutes later, they sat around the kitchen table, the adults drinking coffee and everyone nibbling on the cookies. “These are good, Aunt Teri!” Daniel reached for another one. “You didn’t burn them as bad as usual.”

“Daniel!” Sharon reprimanded sharply.

“From the mouths of babes.” Teresa laughed. “Thanks, Daniel. I know a lady who bakes cookies for a living.” She didn’t name Emma MacKenzie. “Maybe I’ll take lessons from her and next time my cookies won’t be burned at all.”

Daniel shook his head. “Then they wouldn’t taste a bit like your cookies.” He began stuffing a fourth cookie in his mouth when Sharon told him that would be his last or he’d get sick.

Kent rolled his eyes at Teresa and murmured, “This kid could eat two dozen cookies and not get an upset stomach.”

“I heard that,” Sharon said reproachfully. “I wish you wouldn’t undermine my authority in front of Daniel!”

“You wish he wouldn’t do what?” Daniel managed around a mouthful of cookie.

“I’m taking my coffee and
one
cookie to the living room and the television,” Kent said tightly. “It’s time for the golf match to start.”

“Don’t get crumbs all over Teri’s furniture,” Sharon warned. Kent said nothing, but Teresa noticed his shoulders going rigid under his polo shirt. “And don’t—”

“Spill my coffee, burn holes in the carpet with my cigarette, or get nose prints on the TV screen,” Kent finished for her, his voice edgy. “I will be on my best behavior, Mrs. Farr.”

After he’d left, Sharon looked at Teresa in bewilderment. “I don’t know why he’s so grumpy with me all the time lately.”

Because lately you never stop carping at him
, Teresa almost said, but she didn’t want to say anything critical of Sharon in front of Daniel. She did intend to speak to Sharon about the matter soon, though, before her bossiness became a real problem between her and Kent. Teresa just hadn’t figured out a tactful way to approach the issue yet. Sharon was extremely sensitive to any form of censure, even when she was acting normally, and her nervousness told Teri that Sharon was experiencing more than everyday tensions.

“Isn’t this the most glorious day?” Teresa asked quickly, trying to divert Sharon’s attention from Daniel. “Seventy-five degrees, hardly a cloud in the sky, and low humidity. It’s usually much hotter and more humid at this time of year.”

Sharon nodded vaguely, clearly not thinking about the weather. She twisted her diamond and gold engagement ring round and round her long, strong finger, then said out of the blue, “I inherited my father’s hands. I used to be embarrassed about their size, but a long time ago Kent told me they had ‘character.’”

“They’re big like the Clyderdales’ hoofs,” Daniel volunteered cheerily.

Teri concentrated on not laughing at Daniel’s comparison, but Sharon smiled, her eyes twinkling. “That’s my boy—always the charmer.” She looked fondly at her son, then at Teri. “Let’s forget about my hands and get back to our former scintillating subject—the weather. You’re right, as usual. It is beautiful, but I don’t think it’s going to hold through the Fourth of July.”

“I think it will.” Relieved by Sharon’s change of mood, Teri asked, “Want to bet on it? Ten dollars says we’ll be attending the Fourth of July concert and fireworks display on a perfect evening.”

“Ten dollars says it will be pouring rain, and I always collect on bets, Teresa Farr.” They shook hands, laughing. “If it doesn’t rain, we’re going down to Tu-Endie-Wei Park to watch the fireworks display,” Sharon added, referring to the beautiful park that sat on the point where the Ohio and Kanawha rivers met. “I hope you’ll come with us.”

“I go with you every year, Sharon. Why would I miss this one?”

Sharon looked at her with innocent eyes. “Oh, I thought you might be going with Mac.”

“With Mac!” Teresa was shocked. “What on earth made you think I’d go
anywhere
with Mac?”

“You two looked so intimate last night.”

“Intimate!” Teresa blurted.

“Well, yes. You were dancing
so
close and gazing into each other’s eyes.” Sharon’s innocent expression dissolved as she broke into giggles. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help teasing you, although a couple of times, when you weren’t moving around the dance floor stiff as a board, I began to wonder—”

“Hey, Teri, come here!” Kent yelled from the living room.

“Don’t tell me he wants me to watch someone sink a putt,” Teresa groaned even though she was grateful for the change of subject. “I hate golf.”

“Teri, now!” Kent shouted even louder. “Hurry!”

Teresa rose from the kitchen chair, leaving Sharon to make sure Daniel didn’t eat the entire plateful of half-burned cookies, and walked quickly into the living room. Kent sat forward on one of her rust-colored plushy armchairs, looking almost fearfully at the television rattling on in front of him. “Kent, you know I don’t like watching golf.”

He waved a hand at her for silence. “The game was delayed, so I flipped over to a news channel. They said this story was coming up next. Be quiet and listen!”

Teresa didn’t bother to sit down. She stood next to Kent as a perfectly groomed female broadcaster gazed at the television camera with practiced sincerity and began the story in her carefully unaccented voice:

“Roscoe Lee Byrnes, the forty-three-year-old man convicted of killing twenty-two people over a three-year-period, and scheduled for lethal injection in Pennsylvania on Friday, announced yesterday evening that in his confession eight years ago, he lied about murdering Hubert and Wendy Farr of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. Hubert Farr, forty-eight at the time of his murder, was the owner of Farr Coal Company, a large mining operation in Mason County, West Virginia. He and his wife, Wendy, twenty-nine, were savagely stabbed to death at night in their bed. Mrs. Farr’s eight-year-old daughter by a previous marriage also suffered a serious knife injury but survived the attack. Mr. Farr’s daughter, seventeen, received only a minor cut on the arm. When asked why he lied about the Farrs, Byrnes had this to say.”

A video of Roscoe Lee Byrnes appeared on the screen. He sat motionless at a table. The camera drew closer to his face. His bulging eyes looked even eerily paler than Teresa remembered. His face was fuller and oddly shapeless, like a lump of clay. Neither his surprisingly high, thin voice nor his gaze bore the slightest emotion when he spoke:

“I know it don’t make no difference whether I kilt twenty-two people or twenty—I’m still gonna die—but I wanna set the record straight.” Byrnes finally blinked, rubbing together his chubby cuffed hands folded in front of him. “See, I always kilt people that didn’t amount to much. I wanted credit for killin’ someone rich and important like that Farr guy. But now that I’ve found Jesus Christ and know I’ll be seein’ him soon, I feel like I gotta tell the truth about them Farr people.” Byrnes paused, blinked again, and ran his tongue over his puffy lips. “I’ve been to that town in West Virginia where they lived, Point somethin’, but I never even heard of the Farrs till the police asked me if I kilt ’em. They got kilt the night after I was in that town. That seemed real strange to me, kinda like somethin’ that was meant to be. Anyway, them police seemed all excited over those Farrs gettin’ offed, so since I’d been to that town and all, I got a notion to say I did it and impress ever’one. But I was lyin’. I want people to know it before I die. You hear that, God? I’m tellin’ people I lied and I’m sorry. I don’t want credit for killin’ nobody I really didn’t kill. But I also wanna say I
know
one day the person that did kill them people and stabbed that li’l girl will get what’s comin’ to ’em. The Bible says: ‘An eye for an eye,’ and God told me in a dream just a couple a nights ago that’s what’s gonna happen. He’s gonna take his vengeance on whoever did kill them people, and it’s gonna happen soon.
Real
soon.”

K
ENT LEAPED UP FROM
the armchair and roared, “That’s a lie, you fat son of a—”

“Kent!” Sharon stood in the doorway, her face chalk white, her right arm wrapped tightly around Daniel, who gazed at his father with huge frightened brown eyes. “Shut
up
!” she hissed at her husband in a venomous voice Teresa had never heard her use before. “Have you forgotten your son is here?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Kent barked. “But that Byrnes bastard is claiming—”

“I heard.” Sharon glared at Kent. “Daniel heard, too, and he’s scared to death. Byrnes didn’t scare him, though.
You
did. How does that make you feel?”

Kent sagged, his tone lowering. “Lousy, Sharon. I didn’t know the two of you were standing there. I’m sorry, but I can’t monitor what I say every minute.”

“You should when you have a child!” Sharon’s face had gone from the color of parchment to scarlet. “What kind of father
doesn’t
always think about his child?”

“Dammit, Sharon, will you settle down?” Kent’s voice rose again. “For God’s sake!”

“If you can’t get control of yourself and your language, Daniel and I are going home right this minute!” Sharon shouted just before Daniel, who’d been looking from Kent to Sharon with fear and bewilderment, suddenly broke into noisy sobs. “Now look what you’ve done!” Sharon flung at Kent.

“Okay, you two, that… is… enough,” Teresa said loudly and firmly over the sound of Daniel’s crying. “You’re acting like a couple of brats yelling at each other and you’re
both
frightening Daniel.” Sharon gave her an injured look. “Yes, Sharon, you’re as bad as Kent.” Teresa looked at her nephew wiping the backs of his hands over his tear-streaked face and letting out one last wail before he began to hiccup. “Sharon, take Daniel back to the barn to visit Caesar while I talk to Kent.”

“Me?”
Sharon looked affronted. “I don’t know anything about horses!”

“You don’t have to be an equestrian to stand by Daniel while he pets Caesar,” Teresa said sharply, losing patience. “You’ve already seen the pony isn’t going to bite him.”

“We’ll go home,” Sharon snapped.

Daniel hiccupped again, then whimpered, “Please take me to see Caesar, Mommy. I wanna pet him again and tell him I’m comin’ back tomorrow.
Please!
”

Sharon sighed, shot murderous glances at both Kent and Teresa, then led Daniel out the front door, clutching his hand so hard he yelped, “Ouch!” As soon as the door closed behind them, Kent looked at Teresa. “Thanks, Teri. She’s driving me crazy lately.”

“And I’m sure she feels the same way about you. Look, Kent, I didn’t ask her to leave so we could discuss your marriage. I asked her to leave because Daniel was so upset and because you and I need to talk about what we just heard on the news. Roscoe Lee Byrnes is saying he didn’t kill Dad and Wendy.”

Kent flopped back into the armchair as if he’d been punched in the abdomen. “He’s lying.”

“Why?”

“How should I know? Maybe he’s making one last-ditch effort to save himself.”

“He’s a serial killer, Kent. He said it himself—he killed all those other people and he’s going to be executed on Friday whether or not he killed Dad and Wendy.”

“Then maybe he wants to generate a little last-minute publicity for himself. After all, he said he’d never killed anyone
important.
Dad and Wendy were hardly celebrities, but apparently their murders caused a bigger splash in the news than any of his other victims did.”

Kent went silent, gazing past Teresa out the front window. Suddenly she noticed that her brother’s eyes were bloodshot and the lines between his mouth and nose had deepened noticeably in the last few years. His black hair was also turning silver at the temples. She’d known he worked hard managing the coal mine, but he must be under a lot of strain to be aging so quickly—maybe more strain than his job caused. But now wasn’t the time to ask questions about how his life was going. “Kent, you look like you’re daydreaming. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, I’m listening.” He rubbed his hand across his forehead. “But I don’t want to talk about Byrnes anymore. And I don’t want you talking about his so-called confession with Sharon.”