Dangerous Legacy (18 page)

EIGHTEEN

H
arlan or one of his deputies was yet to arrive, but at least the snow had stopped falling by the time Maggie had breakfast prepared.

Flint could tell that Robbie and his brothers were far from reconciled despite their outwardly calm attitudes. If he’d been by himself he’d have handcuffed the two older ones, but Maggie would have none of that.

“They’re just disillusioned kids,” she kept insisting.

“With rotten attitudes and weight-lifter bodies,” Flint countered, speaking aside to her. “I’m not sure I’d win if they decided to jump me together.”

She giggled. “I’d save you. We make quite a team.”

“We do, don’t we?”

“Uh-huh. If you’re ready to brave eating with kids the size of linebackers for the Razorbacks, you can call them to the table.”

“Sure. Just let me check my gun.”

“Flint!”

He rolled his eyes as if they’d been joking. Maggie probably had been. He was dead serious. No way was he turning his back on those so-called kids, particularly since they’d been armed when they arrived with their grandfather. If one of them decided to avenge his death, Flint intended to be ready with an adequate defense.

The two older youths trailed Robbie into the kitchen and took the seats Flint pointed to. He wanted them both trapped between the table and a wall to limit their ability to act rashly. Or worse. He was no longer getting angry vibes from either of them. That could mean they were either biding their time or still in shock. It was no guarantee they might not decide to come after him later.

“You gonna read us our rights?” Luke asked.

Flint huffed. “Nope. Gonna feed you pancakes. Any objections?”

Even Robbie shook his head, although he was keeping a close eye on Will, the brother closest to him in age.

Giving the young men a chance to eat their fill, Flint made small talk about the weather and the food and living in a small town—anything he thought would distract them.

Luke eventually leaned back and patted his stomach. “Real good, ma’am.” His brothers agreed with profuse thanks.

“You’re welcome,” Maggie said. “Is everybody full or should I make another batch?”

Flint wasn’t the only one who groaned. While everybody was smiling he said, “So, which one of you was driving the truck that shoved our pancake maker off the road?”

Three sets of hands were raised overhead, mimicking surrender. Luke and Will both shook their heads. “Not me.”

“Me, neither.”

“Are you blaming your grandpa?”

“Hey, cool it,” Luke said, toning down his indignation as soon as Flint made serious eye contact. “I promise. We didn’t do nothing like that. All’s we did was make a few wolf sounds to scare her. It was all in fun.”

“What about the fire? Which one of you is responsible for that? Robbie?”

He shook his head vigorously. “Not us. None of us. We didn’t hear about it ’til after it was out.”

“And the shooting?” Flint remained stony-faced, waiting for one of them to break.

It was Will who finally asked, “When?”

“More than once,” Maggie offered, stopping when Flint gave her one of his steely stares.

“I can’t speak for before, cause I don’t know. We came along tonight when Papaw got to actin’ all crazy, worse than usual, I mean.” Luke said. “He told us he wanted to go rescue some woman named Elizabeth and we had to come along. We all knew he was out of his head. I was afraid if we didn’t come with him he’d turn around and shoot us dead on the spot.”

Nods from the other boys showed agreement.

“What about poaching? You aren’t planning on blaming that on Elwood, too, are you?”

“It was his idea,” Robbie said quietly. “We just did as we was told.”

“And sold the meat?”

“Well, yeah. Sometimes,” Will replied. “Mostly we hunted deer in season, though.”

“How many?” Flint didn’t expect an honest answer. It was enough to see the boys blush and act uncomfortable.

Finally, Luke leaned forward with his forearms on the table and clasped his hands. “I’ll take the fall for my brothers for breaking game laws,” he said. “You can give me a lie detector test about any other shooting and you’ll see it wasn’t us. Honest.”

Flint looked to Maggie. “What do you think?”

“I think they’re telling the truth,” she said with a sober nod before looking to Robbie. “What about Wolfie’s paw? Are you the one who doctored him?”

The teenager suddenly found his napkin fascinating. “Yes, ma’am, Miz Maggie. I was afraid if I didn’t tie him he’d follow me home and Papaw would shoot him. That’s why I fired high to keep Crawford movin’ out of that area, too.”

“So you left Wolfie for me to find. I understand,” she said. “Which one of you snuck into my house the other night? And who was rifling in the supply cabinet?”

Again, a chorus of “Not me” filled the room.

“What about the screen in Mark’s room? Who took that off?”

Robbie interceded. “I wasn’t with ’em all the time, but I can’t see no reason for me or my brothers to bother you like that. The wolf calls was just for fun, like we said. Papaw told us we was supposed to just nettle you any time we got the chance, not hurt you bad or burn your place down. He said he wanted to stop folks like the warden from payin’ so much attention to what went on in our neck of the woods, that’s all.”

“And tonight?” Flint leaned toward him across the table. “What was supposed to happen tonight?”

Tears filled the youngest teenager’s eyes. “It started out to be a rescue. Honest. I figured there was likely to be fighting and such when Papaw grabbed a couple of his favorite guns, but I never thought he’d start shootin’ wild like he did.”

“What about you two?” Flint stared at Luke and Will.

“Us, either,” Luke said. “But the closer we got, the crazier he started talkin’. Pretty soon, it was like bein’ with a stranger.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed. “I just held my fire and stood back. There was no tellin’ what he’d do next, and I wanted to be able to duck behind a tree if it came to that.”

“All right.” Flint sighed. “Somebody will take your statements once we can get back to town. Be sure you tell them everything. And stick to the truth. It’ll help you in the long run.”

He rose, lifted Mark and held him at arm’s length, facing away, to carry him to Maggie at the sink. “This has got to be the stickiest kid I have ever seen. Can you do something with him?”

“Not without a bath and clean clothes,” she said, laughing lightly. “His feet are probably okay. Put him down and I’ll walk him to the bathroom.”

“Fine.” Flint eyed the masculine contingent still at the table. “While you’re doing that, we’ll wash dishes for you.” His sternness and scowl discouraged mutiny. “Come on, guys. We have to get this mess cleaned up before Miss Maggie can start cooking lunch.”

As the others filed to the sink, Maggie crooked a finger at him.

“What is it?”

She stood on tiptoe and pulled him closer, making him wonder if she wanted another kiss before she said, “Watch the windows. I thought I saw something moving out there earlier.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I figured it was just my imagination. Or the flash of a deer’s white tail. I only remembered because I saw you standing over there and it worried me. If the boys really didn’t do what we accused them of, there may be somebody else still roaming around out there and up to no good.”

“Okay. I’m not leaving you alone in here with the Three Stooges. I’ll have a look around later, after Harlan takes them off my hands.”

“They really aren’t all bad, you know,” Maggie said as she glanced at the awkward dishwashing crew.

“They are great liars.”

He didn’t like it much when Maggie looked into his eyes and said, “Are you sure?”

* * *

Maggie had welcomed the arrival of the sheriff. She was sorry to see Robbie hauled off in the back of the cruiser with Luke and Will but had managed to put in a good word for him. So had Flint.

Getting rid of Elwood’s remains took a little longer, particularly since his violent death required he be sent to the state crime lab in Little Rock rather than receive a cursory examination by the county coroner.

A piece of plywood nailed to the inside of her front door kept out the cold, and a horizontal brace worked to keep it closed until she could have the whole door replaced. Blown snow beneath the body had provided enough protection to keep her porch floor clean. All it took was a few quick swipes with a broom and everything was back to normal. Almost.

She hurried inside as soon as she and Flint finished checking and feeding her animals. The fire still glowed, giving the room a cozy feel. Mark was sitting on the floor in front of a small television, watching a wildlife video, and Wolfie lay beside him.

“I think the dog is snoring,” she remarked, expecting Flint to smile. He didn’t. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see the boys and Elwood taken away.”

“I am.” He sat on the edge of the raised hearth, his back to the fire, elbows resting on bent knees.

“Is your ankle still bothering you a lot?” Constant pain would make anyone grumpy, she reasoned.

“I’ll live.”

“Then what’s wrong? Why do you look as though your best friend just ran off with your favorite hunting dog?”

“Just have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Yeah, me, too
, Maggie thought.
Important things like love and family and our future, only how do I bring that up without sounding desperate?

“Anything I can help with?” she asked.

When Flint shook his head and stared at the floor, her mood plummeted. Was he sorry he’d kissed her? Hugged her? Acted as if he’d missed their closeness? Her heart argued for the truth behind those kisses while her brain kept planting seeds of doubt.

With a heavy sigh Flint pushed to his feet, hesitating to test his sore ankle before gingerly walking away. Every instinct in Maggie’s heart insisted she follow. Temporary confusion kept her in place. Watching. Waiting for him to reveal what was bothering him so much.

“I hate to leave you for even a second, but I need to go home to clean up and change into my uniform, then drive up to headquarters and surrender my firearm to my captain until there’s been an investigation of the shooting,” he finally said. By that time he was pulling on his coat.

“Okay. The sheriff promised more patrols, just in case. We’ll be fine.”

He eyed his son. “He’s a chip off the old block, isn’t he? Has he always liked animals so much?”

“Ever since we adopted Wolfie when Mark was just a toddler. Before that it was fuzzy stuffed toys.”

“I have a lot to catch up on, don’t I?”

Was that what was getting him down?
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said gently as she approached to bid him goodbye. “While you’re gone I’ll make copies of the digital pictures my mother and I took when he was little and give you a disk to keep.”

“Thanks.”

Although Flint paused momentarily when he said that, he made a quarter turn away as if resisting her closeness. Maggie didn’t push it. She’d give him the space he seemed to want even if it tore her apart. So much had happened in the past few weeks they both probably needed time to decompress.

“You’re welcome.” She clasped her hands together to keep from reaching out to him. Touching him. Offering the comfort and moral support she was certain he craved. If he’d just loosen up a little and turn back to her, maybe she’d even have a chance to hug him again.

But he did not. He didn’t even raise a hand to wave as he climbed into his truck and drove away.

Maggie pressed her back to the inside of the patched door and tried to sort through her conflicting emotions. Just when she was beginning to believe she and Flint had come to a mutual understanding he’d put up a new wall.

Or was it new? she mused, empathizing with his sadness. Although she had mellowed about Flint’s past choices, nothing had really changed for him in regard to their son. Mark still didn’t know who his daddy was. That, she could fix. It was missing out on the boy’s birth and growth that was Flint’s permanent loss.

Was it a matter of forgiveness? Maggie wondered. Perhaps. Maybe his buried anger was rising to the fore now that the immediate danger to her and their son had apparently eased.

“But I can’t change what’s already happened,” Maggie lamented aloud before closing her eyes and letting the tears flow. Once again she yearned for prayer and once again her mind failed to function adequately.

Finally, she merely whispered, “Please, Father, let Flint know I love him,” then added, “And help him forgive me.”

For the first time since hope had risen in her heart, it occurred to Maggie that Flint might never be able to do that.

If her impressionable five-year-old had not been close by, she might have given in to her churning, bewildering emotions and shouted at heaven in protest.

* * *

Flint knew his next task was not going to be easy. He’d fought accepting the possibility for a long time, preferring to blame the Dodd family for the attacks that Luke and the others had now denied. One thing was clear. Before he made any accusations he wanted to talk to Ira.

And if it turned out that his grandfather was guilty—or capable—of causing any of Maggie’s problems, as she had hypothesized? That would probably mean the end of his and Maggie’s chances for happiness together. Even if she didn’t come right out and accuse him of lying to protect his kin, there would always be that nagging sense of doubt in the back of her mind.

He stomped the snow off the boot on his good leg and gently tapped the toe of the other on the mat before entering Bess’s kitchen. The room was warm, welcoming him with the aroma of baking bread and taking him back to his youth. He owed these old people his life, given that he’d probably have followed in his mother’s footsteps if he’d been allowed to remain poorly supervised as a youngster.

Bess was wiping her hands on her apron when she saw him. “There you are. We were worried.”

“I asked the sheriff to let you know I’d be away. Didn’t he tell you?”

She rolled her eyes and made a sound of disgust. “He told us, all right. I can’t believe you’d take up with a woman like that. Didn’t you learn your lesson years ago?”