Redemption (17 page)

“
That ain’t the way it’s supposed to work, Miles Overton. You pick it out and give it to me. It will be the wrong size and won’t be anythin’ like my style, and then I will exchange it for a bigger, better one.”

“
Oh.”
So that’s how it works.

“
You miss me?”

“
Every night.”

“
Days, too?”

“
Yep.”

“
You are so country. Where you been, anyway? I been callin’ you all day.”

“
I was at the jewelers in Calhoun.”

“
All damn day?”

Well, there’s this possibility that your dead son is back, and I had to check it out.
“I couldn’t decide, so I—”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
Really.”

Callie chuckled. “I know what you were doin’. Probably sowin’ some wild oats one last time.”

Overton laughed. “I don’t have any more wild oats to sow. You know that. You sowed ‘em all out of me.”

“
Not all of them, Mr. Man.”

That woman can still make my blood boil.
“So when are you coming home?”

“
Home. I like the sound of that. Probably by Saturday. Gotta beat that storm.”

“
Huh?”

“
Don’t you listen to the radio or watch TV? Hurricane Anthony took a turn and is headin’ our way.”

Wouldn’t that be a relief to this drought.
“We could sure use the rain.” Overton sighed. “And I could sure use you.”

“
Tell me
anythin’
. I gotta go. I love you,
old
man. You better rest up.”

“
Why?”

“
Because I ain’t gonna give you no rest when I get there.”

20

Four down. One literally way down. And only three to go. We’re past the half-way point, and it’s time to rest.

A day off. What to do? See the sights? See the neon lights? Go to a show? Catch a Yankees game? Hang out in Harlem?

St. Patrick’s Cathedral? Hmm. Give a priest an earful? Nah. Why make his day? He ain’t part of this. Why ruin the rest of his life?

Better plan out the next one. They say this one’s gonna be tricky. Gonna need cooperation this time. Gonna need a little help from a friend. But what if she ain’t friendly?

Then the friendship’s over.

Come back a day early? I love the Big Apple. Always somethin’ goin’ on! Snow is subatomic, like goin’ back in a time machine, like goin’ back in history. New York is the bomb, and Snow is just fallout.

Everybody’s worried now. They just jumpin’ the gun. He’s gettin’ too close, they say. He’s learnin’ too fast. I tell them that the man is only as close as we
let
him get. But they ain’t listenin’ to me.

I’ve watched that video on CNN a hundred times now, and it always ends the same way. Wished we’d gotten a better close-up of her face.

As ye sow, so shall ye leap.

Thursday, July 8, 1999

21

“
Anything happen while I was away?” Overton asked.

Ramsey sat slumped in a chair at Lester’s, his feet up on a desk. “Nope. Nothin’ happened all day. I just sat here twiddlin’ my thumbs.”

At least you got some exercise,
Overton thought,
like me this morning having to walk two miles to work in ninety-degree heat. I should have called Autumn.
“You hear that hurricane is heading this way?
”

“
It’ll miss us,” Ramsey said. “Just like the twenty-first century gonna miss us.”

He might be right,
Overton thought.
We sure live in the past right often around here.

“
It’s kinda strange if you think about it,” Ramsey said. “Stuff only happens around here when
you’re
here.” He laughed. “Nothin’ ever goes wrong in Snow unless the sheriff’s here.”

I’d laugh along with him if it weren’t so true.
Overton leaned on the desk. “Anyone call?”

“
Just Jimmy Lee.”

“
What did he want?”

“
You.”

Overton frowned. “So I’d take the tape off his houses, huh?”

“
Yep.”

Everyone’s in such a rush these days! If it isn’t Callie, it’s Jimmy Lee.
“What did you tell him?”

“
That you were gone to Calhoun, and that I was in charge.”

“
Is that when he hung up?”

Ramsey squinted. “How’d you know he hung up on me?”

“
Lucky guess.”
Ramsey will never be anything but a deputy.
“When did he call?”

“
Oh, around five, I think.”

After I had already told him it’d take a few days to clear out? Why is he in such a god-awful hurry?
“How’d he sound?”

Ramsey dropped his feet to the floor. “Like he always does. Like he had somethin’ stuck so far up his butt he was still chewin’ on it.”

Nice image.
“So he was angry?”

“
Yeah. Did you and Autumn find out anythin’ in Calhoun?”

“
Not much,” Overton said quickly.
I still don’t know you well enough to let you in on this one, kid.
“I just
asked a few questions here and there and came back with more questions than answers.” He handed Ramsey a ten. “Go down to the pharmacy and get us some drinks, a couple bags of chips, and a newspaper. I need to find out more about this hurricane.”

“
Sure thing.”

After Ramsey left, Overton looked through Annie’s boxes stacked against the wall in the first bay of the garage until he found the “Miracle Baby” clippings. He scanned the March 15 story and found the lead detectives’ names. He checked his watch: 7:15.
Wonder if anyone’s awake in Calhoun? City folks waste the best parts of the day stuck in traffic.
He sat at the desk and dialed.

“
What?” yelled a terse voice.

Now there’s a professional greeting.
“This is Sheriff Miles Overton from Pine County. How are you doing this fine morning?”

“
Lousy. Busy night. Still bringin’ ‘em in. Rolling blackouts had folks pretty pissed off at each other last night. I hope this heat wave breaks soon. How can I help you?”

“
I need to reach detective Jimmy Jones or detective Scott Shaw.”

“
Jones and Shaw? They retired, the lucky bastards.”

Damn.
“Are they still in the area?”

“
Jones is. He comes by every now and then to shoot the shit. The stories he can tell.”

And that’s exactly what I need him for.
“You have his home number handy?”

After getting the number, Overton hesitated before dialing.
Hope Jones is an early riser.
He dialed and was surprised that someone answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“
Is this former detective Jimmy Jones?”

“
Yes, and I’m happily retired, so state your business quick.”

“
My name is Miles Overton. I’m a sheriff in Pine County. Think we worked a few floaters together a while back.”

“
Oh sure, I remember. You were a deputy then. Do any fishin’ lately?”

“
Nah. Haven’t found the time.”

“
How much time you need?”

It’s not really time so much as water in Pine Lake.
“You have a point. Anyway, I’m sorry to call so early, Mr. Jones.”

“
Don’t worry about it. I’ve been up since five. It’s the only time I can stand the heat workin’ in the garden. Might not make much of a difference with that hurricane comin’, but it keeps me busy. What’s up?”

“
You and Shaw worked that Miracle Baby case, right?”

“
Now that takes me back. Sure, we worked it, and it worked Shaw into early retirement, let me tell you. Tore that man up. What do you want to know?”

Just everything.
“I’ve been reading through some clippings here, but they never mention exactly in the cemetery where the baby was found.”

“
Those are some real old clippings, Sheriff. Why are you interested?”

Is he evading my questions?
“Curiosity mainly. Not much to do on a hot day down here.”

“
I hear you.” Jones cleared his throat. “I’m an unsolved case buff myself, and that’s one that has always bothered the hell out of me. We never found the mother, you know. You’d think we could have at least done that. Didn’t have this DNA stuff back then.”

I’ve found the mama and the daddy, but they’re both dead.
“Was the baby on a particular grave?”

“
Yeah. We tried that angle but got nothin’. Julius somethin’, I think. We thought it was just a sick joke, I mean, Julius Caesar, March fifteenth, and the ides of March and all.”

Overton wrote “Julius?” on a notepad. “Big or little headstone?”

“
No headstone at all. Just a little plaque in the ground about six feet from this fence next to Jefferson Apartments. Naturally we thought someone from Jefferson put the baby there. Canvassed the entire place top to bottom but got less than nothin’.”

Overton wrote “Julius poor?” on the notepad. “Why was that?”

“
Jefferson was ninety-nine percent black back then, and we had us a white baby. They thought we were crazy for even askin’.”

You weren’t that crazy.
“You never found any witnesses?”

“
None. Livin’ ones anyway. If the dead could talk, right?”

Overton felt a chill.
You got that one right, partner.
“Who found the baby first?”

“
Two kids from the apartments, a boy and a girl.”

Two little kids just happened to be “playing” in a cemetery and found a baby.
“They never mentioned their names in the newspaper.”

“
Couldn’t find their mama, so we couldn’t officially talk to them, but we did anyway. We just didn’t put their names in the report.”

And their mama wasn’t around. How convenient.
“What time did they find the baby?”

“
Around seven, seven-thirty.”

Out playing in a cemetery early in the morning?
“What were they doing out there so early?”

“
Beats me. Gettin’ ready for school, I guess. Gettin’ ready for the bus.”

Do school buses run that early in the city? Poor kids.
“How old were they?”

“
Elementary. They had these cute little backpacks on.”

“
And when’s elementary school start up there?”

“
Around nine. Maybe they were bein’ bussed across town.”

Or maybe they went out early knowing exactly what they’d find. Y’all ought to pay more attention to your black folks, and so should I, for that matter.
“You ever look in their backpacks?”

“
No. What for? They were little kids. I doubt they were packin’, Sheriff.”

Overton thought back to his elementary days. “It was a Monday, right?”

“
I think so. Yeah. So?”

“
So maybe they had blankets in their backpacks. I seem to remember my own mama washing my blanket on Fridays and sending it with me the following Monday. How many blankets did you find on the baby?”