The Drought (39 page)

He was drifting on the dark waters of the Mississippi when he heard a light tapping. Even in sleep he longed for the milky green water of the Llano. He wanted to put his feet down and feel the limestone rocks along the bottom of the clear water, but he was floating in the wrong river. This river was murky, cold, and deep. The tapping came again. Jar pulled his numb arms through the cold water and his head broke through the surface of the river. He let out his breath and quickly gulped in another. When he opened his eyes he was sitting in Nathan’s chair, the poker across his lap.

Disoriented, he looked around the room for Agador.
Agador went outside
. He stared at the front door wondering if he had returned.

The light tapping came again.

In his dream the sound had come from two boards on a dock tapping together in rhythm to the waves of the river. He slid his feet to the floor. Above him, the ceiling fan, slightly off balance, whirred and clicked through the humid air. He walked to the window. He stood in front of it for a minute before he found the courage to pull the curtains aside.

A pale hand reached up and tapped the pane of glass. Jar jerked back, his heart beating triple time, but his hands still held the curtains open. A pale face joined the pale hand. Jar recognized the eyes. They were milky now, like the Llano River but they were still hazel.

Suzy was standing on the other side of the closed window.

Reserve, Louisiana

Steve Mallar was waiting for Nathan on the side of Highway 61. Nathan pulled up, flashed his headlights and proceeded down the road another half mile. The truck pulled to the shoulder, followed by the second vehicle. The two men exchanged strained pleasantries before getting to the point of the late night meeting.

Carrying two large duffle bags, Nathan and Steve walked through the woods toward the body of Angelina Dupier. Nathan knew he and Agador had already contaminated the crime scene at the discovery but he had to follow protocol and secure the scene until George Wilson and Spencer Davis’ team could arrive.

Keeping his eyes averted from the dangling legs, Nathan taped off a large area around the tree. Steve pulled out several high powered lights and lit up the gruesome scene. From the second bag, Nathan pulled out a camera with a flash. The crime scene manual required three views of photographs: wide angle to depict the scene, mid-range showing the relationship between items and close up. He tried to detach himself, tried to remain professional but his hands shook as he took the close up pictures. The thought of someone butchering Angelina, a sweet child who could never have hurt anyone filled him with hatred and a need for vindication.

The camera dropped from his hand, saved by the strap it thumped against his chest. A stifled sob came out. The lights on the slight, naked body were too much. He couldn’t let her just hang there—damn, it could be hours before the others arrived. He stepped forward, prepared to break through his own police line when Steve grabbed him.

“I can’t,” Nathan wiped at his eyes. “I can’t just leave her there Steve.”

“Yes you can.” He pushed Nathan back, just a little, just enough to let him know he was willing to be forceful. “You want to catch the sick fuck who did this? You step back and let SBI handle it. Otherwise you’ve got a state inquiry in the next two weeks about how a small town sheriff stepped on his dick down in Reserve.”

Nathan couldn’t take his eyes off the small figure, he wanted to cut the rope, take her down from there, cover her up and hold her. He swiped at his eyes again, his jaw taut.

Steve stood his ground. “You get out of here Nathan. I’ll stay with her. I don’t envy you what you’ve got to do next.”

Nathan’s heart sank. Elise and Daniel, he still had to give them the news. He backed away. “Okay. He cleared his throat. “You tell George Wilson, I’ve got written notes and photographs—he’ll want to take his own, that’s fine. Make sure he knows Agador and I tromped all over the area when we found her. I’ll get with him later, compare notes. He was still backing away, unable to take his eyes from the girl he used to throw in the air, a girl with skin that looked as if it had been stroked by a cinnamon stick.

Nathan swung his truck into the small parking lot of the Reserve Sheriff’s department. He had hoped to find Daniel in the office but he could see his deputy’s squad car was missing. Frank Malone was working the night shift. Nathan didn’t go inside. He sat for a moment contemplating how he was going to break the news to Elise.

Outside the station a single streetlight flickered in the night, illuminating a small section of the parking lot. He watched as a variety of moths, all different shapes and sizes, banged themselves senselessly against the domed light. At the moment, he didn’t feel much smarter.

He wasn’t any closer to solving this case than he had been on day one. If he had something, anything he could at least go to Elise with a promise.

*

Fourth Street was dark and quiet. It was as if Nathan’s news had preceded his visit, casting a somber mood over the sleeping houses. As he made the turn into Elise’s dirt driveway, he saw Daniel’s squad car parked in front of the broken down porch. The tightness in his chest lightened slightly. Nathan pulled his truck in behind the squad.

The only sound he could hear as he exited his truck was the dull vibration of the air-conditioner. Samson would not be on the other side of the door, barking at a possible intruder and Angelina would never squeal in delight as Nathan came through the door. He had failed the occupants of this house and his failure was a crushing weight.

He tapped lightly on the front door. While he waited, he envisioned Daniel and Elise in the kitchen discussing Angelina’s fate. Mother’s tended to hold out longer than the strong men in their lives. Elise would still be confident waiting for good news while Daniel, dutiful, pragmatic, would know what was coming and never utter a word.

He tapped again then jiggled the door handle. The door was unlocked. Stepping into the dark house, Nathan called out softly, “Elise?” No one answered. Soft music drifted through the dark house. Knowing Elise often fell asleep listening to the radio, Nathan walked toward the back bedroom. His earlier vision changed. He realized Elise would have been distraught at the news the search party had found nothing on the third day. She had spent her entire life near the swamps and she would understand finding nothing was as bad as finding a dead body. He expected to find her asleep in the bed with Daniel dozing fitfully in the chair next to it.

As he approached the bedroom, the music got louder. Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door. No amount of time would have prepared him for what waited on the other side. He stood in the doorway, struck dumb by the sight of Daniel taking his sister doggy style. The sensual moans coming from Elise alleviated any doubts she was an unwilling participant.

Banging his hand against the door, he cleared his throat to let the duo know they had an audience. Daniel, approaching culmination did not stop his intense motion. Elise looked back over her shoulder. She gave a sultry smile as if she’d been expecting him and said, “Care to join us? There’s always room for a third.”

Nathan stepped back, averting his gaze. His voice was cold when he spoke. “Get dressed. I’m here on official police business.” As he walked down the hallway, the sound of Daniel climaxing followed him.

Several minutes later, Elise sauntered into the small kitchen where only a month earlier she had reported a missing dog. Angelina haunted the room. Her drawings hung on the refrigerator, a discarded doll lay on the table and her favorite dish and cup were still waiting for her return in the dish rack.

Nathan was leaning against the counter, his eyes on her empty chair. He could still see her sitting at the table dunking her cookies in milk, her eyes opened wide in earnest as she asked, “Are you going to catch the boogeyman?” Giggling, she faded away.

He looked at Elise. “I think you should sit down.”

Sliding into the seat, Elise managed to rub against his arm. He jerked back as if burned. He walked around to the other side of the table, wondering where Daniel had gone.

In a voice honed from years of police service, Nathan said, “Elise, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I found Angelina.” Here, his voice cracked and he had to stop for a moment to compose his thoughts. He looked at the empty chair, wondering if Angelina would make another appearance, but it remained empty. He finished in a hoarse voice, “Angelina’s dead, Elise. I found her body in the woods.”

On the way over he had envisioned telling Elise the bad news. He thought at this point he would have been holding her in his arms as the news of her daughter’s death fully registered. Now he held his position, waiting for her to respond.

Elise stared at him, her expression blank. The bedroom eyes and suggestive posturing were gone. The figure who now sat at the table was a mother who had lost a daughter. Nathan knew shock was natural and usually followed by denial. At some point most parents insisted on seeing the body. He had seen it too many times in his line of work and had experienced it first hand with the death of his own daughter. He felt like a bastard for not walking around the table and offering her any comfort but the image of her and Daniel together was too fresh.

Elise continued her silence. He was about to offer to go find Daniel when he heard a step behind him. Turning slightly, he felt the sensation of air being displaced. The next instant his head exploded into white pain. The impact spun him back around toward Elise. An odd smile played upon her lips. As he hit the floor he heard Daniel say, “I told you, any dog’ll do.”

Waiting for him on the other side was the house back in Atlanta. Familiar with the dream he followed the path toward the backyard. Bright colored toys were scattered around the yard, a few discolored from the sun, others stained red by the Georgia clay. He bent down and picked up a blue shovel. He heard a little giggle and the sound of a metal gate scraping open. His heart constricted in his throat. He dropped the shovel and ran toward the pool.

His daughter wore a lavender swim suit, sprinkled with colorful flowers. It was pulled taut over her plump belly and the elastic edge of a pink swim diaper was visible beneath the suit. She leaned over the pool, reaching. Nathan’s frantic eyes searched the pool. He saw her favorite red ball floating in the middle. Waggling her chubby, little fingers, she said, “Mickey.”

He called out, “Baby, stay away from the edge of the pool.”

She couldn’t hear him. She reached again, this time leaning too far over the edge. With a splash she fell into the water. The Micky Mouse ball bobbed on the wave floating further away.

“No!” He grabbed the fence and started climbing, but for every foot he climbed, the fence got higher until he looked up and saw it ascended straight into the sky. From his vantage point on the fence he could see down into the pool. He saw the lavender suit floating gently toward the bottom. And then he was falling. He fell for what seemed like an eternity. When he hit the ground he expected to hit Georgia clay and smell summer grass but instead he hit hardwood and smelled gasoline.

Reserve, Louisiana

Jar knew the girl on the other side of the glass was no longer the same girl who had tagged along after Barry and him on the trails of Junction. Her milky gaze and blue skin made him afraid but guilt overrode his fear. Swallowing the saliva in his mouth, he reached out and flipped the thumb locks on the window. Blue tinged lips mouthed the words,
“Hurry Jar, we’re running out of time.”
He pressed his palms against the glass and slid the window open. She retreated further into the shadows beckoning to him,
“Bring the Govi. Hurry.”

The backpack was hanging on the bedpost in Nathan’s bedroom. He removed the Govi from the bag. When he reentered the living room, he heard Suzy hiss, “
Hurry.”
The desperation in her voice almost made him slam down the window. He stood in indecision, his mind racing.
I don’t have to do this. I can stay here with Nathan and Agador. I’ll be safe.
His guilt worked against him.
Why should I be safe when Suzy was standing outside the window with fluid squishing just below her skin?

Muttering, “I’ll come back,” he gripped the Govi. The box felt hot. This heat was dark and unpleasant. It made him feel dirty like the time he and Barry had found a stash of porn magazines behind the dumpster at Faces, one of the bars in Junction. As they thumbed through the pages, he had felt an inexplicable heat surge through his body starting from his groin. Barry had had no qualms about what you were supposed to do with the heat. He boasted, “Shit these pictures are about to make me cum in my pants,” then he reached inside his loose shorts and started to pull at himself until he grunted in satisfaction. Jar had tried not to notice what Barry was doing but the soft sounds he was making made the heat inside Jar’s groin even worse.