The Reckoning (16 page)

The Blue Bird bus was filling up for the two o'clock run up-country. The crowd was the same weary threadbare folks, all of uncertain race and age, so average they stood out, tired spiritless people who never spoke, who didn't make eye contact, and who just shuffled glumly past Danziger and Albert Lee as the two of them sat there on a bench by the ticket booth, smoking. Now and then Albert Lee would cast a quick worried glance across at Danziger, who was leaning forward, his forearms on his knees, staring at the pitted grease-stained concrete floor of the Button Gwinnett Bus Depot, his long hair hanging down, Danziger saying nothing at all. Albert Lee, a good soul, was concerned about him.

“Look, Charlie, there's got to be a rational explanation for all this.”

“I'd be happy to hear one,” said Danziger without looking up. He took a last pull on his cigarette, crushed it out on his boot heel, and flicked it into a nearby ash can.

Albert Lee worried about that too, since the ash can was half full of shredded bus tickets. However, fires had started in it before and he knew where the fire extinguisher was.

“Well, you're no more dead than I am,” said Albert Lee. “In my opinion, you're having some kind of nervous conniption.”

That made Danziger look up. “A
conniption
? Albert, I think I may have taken part in a bank robbery where four cops got shot, and later that day I shot a guy in the back, and farther down the same year I get involved in a shootout with some mob people and take two rounds in the chest. I don't think
conniption
quite covers all that.”

“Yes it does. If it happened at all, I mean, you being a part of it all. What you're thinking is exactly what a nervous conniption fit is like—”

“Have you ever had one like this?”

“Why, yes,” he said, pleased to be able to add something to the discussion. “Last spring I was involved in a shooting of my own, up in Sallytown. I myself was shot in that encounter.”

This brought Danziger all the way upright. “You were?”

“I was,” said Albert Lee. He tapped the left side of his uniform jacket, just above the waistline. “Right here, in the side of my belly. And it stung something ferocious too. But now and then I'm pretty sure it never happened. That it was just a bad dream. A conniption.”

“Do you have a scar?”

“No. And neither do you, I'll bet.”

This was true, and it gave Danziger something to hold on to.

“How'd you come to be in a fire fight up in Sallytown? I mean, in your dream?”

“That is a long story, and I'd love to regale you with the whole lunatic adventure, but I have to get these here people back up-country…”

He paused, thought about it. “Look, Charlie…what are your plans, anyhow? What you figuring to do about…”

“Being dead?”

“You're not
dead
, Charlie. But you're troubled. I'd say you need to get out of town for a while, calm down, think this thing through.”

Danziger had to admit the idea had some appeal. “You have a suggestion, Albert?”

“Well, you look like a cowboy. A real one. You ever worked with horses, with livestock?”

“Yeah, I have. I was born in Bozeman, my folks ran cattle, and I used to have a ranch in the foothills north of Niceville, up at the edge of the Belfair Range. I raised Tennessee Walkers and Morgans.”

“I know those horses. Pretty black horses, long manes, high-curved necks, Arab noses, have a way of stepping high and a nice easy canter.”

“That's the breed.”

“Ever worked with heavy horses?”

“How heavy?”

“Percherons or Clydes?”

“I've worked around them. Draft horses. They're a steady beast, damn big, but you don't want to have one step on your foot. Average full-grown Clydesdale will weigh in at two thousand pounds. They run bay or golden, with white chests and big white fetlocks. Good-natured. Smart.”

“You know 'em, I guess.”

“Horses are horses, Albert. Only kind of horse I won't work with is a pony. Why are you asking?”

“Well, a lady I know has a sort of plantation up in the Belfairs. She could use someone who's good with horses. She has a few big old Clydes; one of them, his name is Jupiter—Charlie, you'll have to see him to believe him. I think you'd like the lady. She's a born farm girl, tough boss, but fair, and she has a true heart.”

“What's her name?”

“Glynis Ruelle. Place is called the Ruelle Plantation. Been in the Ruelle family for years, after Miss Glynis and her husband John bought the farm from Lorelei and Albemarle—”

“John Ruelle? As in
JR
, the initials on that cigarette case? Served in the Big Red One?”

Albert Lee gave him a sideways look. “I surely can believe you're a police officer, Charlie. You got an eye for details. Yes, it was her husband was killed in the war, and his brother Ethan maimed for life. Ethan's gone too. Why she's all alone now, with that big farm to run. And now, with the Harvest coming on, she'll need the help pretty bad. Does this interest you, Charlie?”

What Albert Lee had just said gave Danziger a lot to think about. Danziger remembered a couple of things pretty clearly, and one of them was that the search for Rainey Teague after his disappearance two years ago had ended up at a barrow grave in the old Confederate graveyard, and the grave belonged to a man named Ethan Ruelle, who had been shot dead in a duel on December 24, 1921. And the name Glynis Ruelle was familiar as well, from a story Nick Kavanaugh had told him a few weeks after the Rainey Teague abduction case.

So something pretty complicated was going on in his life, and he needed to think about it, and he had a feeling that some of the answers could be found at Glynis Ruelle's plantation.

Danziger looked out at the streets of Niceville, the people and the cars streaming back and forth out there under the soft autumn light, the trolley cars clanging and rumbling, a line of crows stretched out on a net of wires across Forsythia, all in a row, staring back at him, flat-eyed and still, like black beads on a wire. Danziger had a strange feeling that they were waiting for him to decide what he was going to do so they could all fly off and report.

To whom he had no idea.

“So,” said Albert Lee, “does this work for you, Charlie? I do think it's for the best.”

“Yes, it does. How do I get there?”

“Well, I drive right by it, don't I? Blue Bird stops right at the bottom of her lane. Some of these here folks, they're going back up there for the Harvest. You can be there by evening, time for a late supper, talk it over with the lady.”

“What's the crop?”

“The crop?”

“Yes, the crop she's harvesting.”

Albert Lee got busy lighting another cigar, his head down, watching his own hands. He got the cheroot lit, puffed out a cloud of blue smoke that had a strong scent of eucalyptus.

“It's an odd thing, the Harvest, Charlie. I think you'll need to see it to understand it. It's not about a
crop
, although it takes place out in the fields, down there by the piney woods. It's more a kind of family ceremony. Happens twice a year, spring is
the Planting
and fall is
the Harvest.
They are both surely something to see.”

“Maybe we should call, see what she thinks?”

Albert Lee shook his head. “Miss Glynis, she doesn't hold with phones too much. She's got one, of course, but she'll never answer it. But you needn't worry, Charlie. I think she'll like you. And I think you'll like her right back. I know I do. What do you say?”

Danziger stood up, straightened his range coat, smiled down at Albert Lee. “You know Eddie Fessendein, Albert?”

“I do. Runs the diner, Blue Eddie's, down there near Tin Town. Sort of an odd dude.”

“He is an odd dude. He's why I'm here.”

Albert Lee gave Danziger an appraising look. “Blue Eddie sent you here?”

“Yes. He said I should take the bus.”

Albert Lee got up, his face serious, and his manner suddenly solemn. “Blue Eddie said that?”

“I think so. You know his accent. It came out like
tek da bus, Charlie.
”

Albert Lee took that in, his expression grave. “Then you should take the bus, Charlie.”

Danziger took the bus.

Rainey and Axel were sitting on the bank of the Tulip River tossing crusts of bread into the water to feed the ducks that lived along the edge of Boudreau Park. The wind was still blowing and the river glittered with sunlit chop. Behind them on the bike path a pack of skinny guys in those geeky biker outfits were streaming by, hogging the lanes, farting and grunting, their bikes making a swish-swish-swoosh sound as they hissed by in a snaky chain. Down the riverbank a bunch of girls were having a picnic and playing badminton and squealing like piglets in a pen. Rainey and Axel were enjoying disapproving of the girls, who were happy to disapprove right back at them.

Axel looked away to the northeast, where the cliff loomed up over the town. Axel had never been up on top of Tallulah's Wall.

The closest he'd ever come had been a trip on the Peachtree trolley line to the top of Upper Chase Run, where there was a trolley loop right at the bottom of a set of rickety wooden stairs that went all the way up to the top.

Rainey and he had gone there one night, and Rainey had left him alone at the loop while he climbed up the stairs. Something bad had happened to Rainey up there, on the path that led to Crater Sink. Ever since then Rainey had not been the same.

Right now he was still not the same, and Axel decided to ask him what was bugging him.

At first Rainey didn't answer, just sat there, slouching down, his hair in his eyes, tossing crusts to the ducks. He balled up the rest of the lunch, stuffed it into a paper bag, and tossed the bag into the river, where the fast-moving current ran away with it like a dog with a bone.

“Axel, did Eufaula ask you about the radios?”

Axel was a skinny little guy with big Disney-rabbit eyes and a mop of long curly hair, but he wasn't a little guy inside, and lately he'd been doing a lot of thinking about Rainey.

“Yeah, she did.”

“What did she want to know?”

“When was the last time we'd played with them. I told her last week, and then you said they had to be fixed. New batteries and stuff.”

“You did, huh?”

“Yeah. Shouldn't I?”

Rainey studied Axel for a time, and that look was in his eyes, the look Axel was beginning to think was pushing out the part of Rainey that Axel liked. His father used to have that same look when he was deciding to get really mad about something and thinking about who was going to get smacked around first.

“You shouldn't be a snitch to her, Axe. We gotta stick together. She's just the help. Haven't you ever had help?”

“Help with what?”

“No, I mean, haven't you ever had servants? Colored people, doing stuff, cooking and cleaning, picking up after you?”

“No. Once we had a nanny, but Daddy scared her away. So it was always just us.”

“Well, with people like Eufaula, you gotta understand, she's not like family—”

“She feels like family,” he said, his tone stiffening. “She's always doing special stuff for us, and Kate and Nick, and Mom. And you.”

Rainey laughed, picked up a small stone, threw it hard at a misinformed duck who had stayed behind, thinking maybe another crust was on the way. Instead she got a rock on the beak. She took off across the water, orange feet pattering along the waves, wings laboring, and then went airborne.

Rainey aimed another rock at her but missed by yards. Down the line one of the girls called up to him to stop throwing rocks at the ducks. Rainey gave her the finger and turned back to Axel.

“Look, Axe, Eufaula's
not
family. You gotta keep your distance. Those people don't really like us. They're always thinking about slavery and shit and how evil bad white people are. You can't let them get over on us. Eufaula and her kind, they aren't like us, and they hate us for it.”

Axel had heard this kind of talk before, and not only from his father. He was just a kid, but he didn't buy it. It wasn't money or family that made you a good person. It was how you treated other people. It was beginning to dawn on Axel that maybe Rainey wasn't a very nice person and that he might grow up to be just like Axel's father, mean and greedy and dangerous.

“Rain, you're just pissed because she found out about the radio on top of the fridge.”

“Yeah,” said Rainey, and that
look
was there again. “And how'd she find out about that?”

Axel moved back a bit, but not too far. “Not from me, Rain. It was your own stupid idea to put it there. And I warned you. She cleans the kitchen. You think she was never going to clean the top of the fridge? Get real.”

Rainey got colder. “Axe, you don't
ever
want me to get real with you. Not ever.”

Axel looked at him for a short time. “Rain, sometimes I don't like you.”

“Like when?”

Since you pushed that old lady into the Tulip,
he was thinking, but he was too smart to say that, with the river only six feet away.

“Like right now…since you been doing all that sneaky spy stuff.”

“Not just me. We were playing detective, that's all.”

“What about running the spy car into Eufaula's room?”

Rainey lost some color. “What are you talking about?”

“My Spy Gear Spy Video Car VX6 that mom bought me from Toys “R” Us. I saw you. You ran it into Eufaula's room while she was in the shower and you were looking at her on the remote screen. When she was in the shower. I saw you doing it.”

“I was not. It's a remote car, you dumbass, you run it all over with the wireless remote. That's what it's for.
You
play with it too.”

“It's a remote-controlled car with a camera in it and it sends pictures back to the screen on the controller when you run it around so you can see what it sees and you ran it into Eufaula's bathroom when she was in the shower so you could see her naked.”

Rainey put a smiley face on. “I was just playing with it. Besides, she had the shower door closed and the glass was all steamy, so I didn't see—”

“It wasn't right. You gotta stop doing stuff like this. We'll get caught, like you did with the radios, and if Kate ever finds out—”

“Who's gonna tell her? You?”

“No. But I'll bet Eufaula will.”

“She better not, if she wants to keep—”

And because Fate takes an interest, pays attention, and likes to move things along at a brisk pace, his cell phone rang.

And rang, a shrill beeping that riveted their attention. Axel stared at him as Rainey rattled through his backpack until he found the phone. He looked at the screen.

KATE KAVANAUGH

He let it ring while they both sat there and stared at each other. It went to voice mail, and Rainey keyed the button to hear the message. It was from Kate, and her voice was cold and tight, not all warm and oozy the way it usually was when she was talking to him.

Rainey, I want you and Axel to come home right now. I mean right this minute, whatever you're doing. If you're at Boudreau Park you can be home in half an hour. Call me when you get this message. If you don't call me back in five minutes I'll come looking for you, so don't play any games with me.

The message ended just like that. No
bye, babe
and no
love you.
Rainey had never heard that tone in Kate's voice before. Neither had Axel.

“Jeez, Rain. She's really pissed.”

Rainey didn't answer. Axel thought he looked like he was listening to something in his head.

Axel was right.

need to do something about these people need to do something now right now if you won't I will

Rainey was looking at Axel as if he didn't know him, and Axel felt a cold thing grow in his belly and spread up into his chest and then into his throat. He tried to speak and only got out a croak because his mouth was dry. Rainey was looking at him like he was something dead by the side of the road. Finally Axel got some words out.

“Rainey…what are you thinking?”

Rainey didn't answer. He seemed to be listening to something Axel couldn't hear.

Then when he finally answered, he didn't make any sense at all. “Maris Yarvik,” he said. “Maris will fix it.”

“Maris Yarvik? Who is Maris Yarvik, Rainey?”

Rainey seemed to surface.

He smiled at Axel, his first really friendly smile in a long time, and the cold thing in Axel's chest backed off a touch and he forgot to worry about the river being so close.

It was good to see Rainey smile like that.

“A guy we know, Axel. He does favors for us.”