- Hard Fall (20 page)
Authors: James Buchanan
"I'm sorry, sir."
"So am I."
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When I pulled up to my house, I realized Hell had come home to roost. Pete Sampris' car took up the left end of my drive. Pete Sampris lurked on the second step on my porch.
Grim-faced, he looked up and tracked my truck with his beady, dark eyes as I pulled to the right and parked. I didn't have so much a front yard as a cleared area. I generally tended to just pull in where the mood struck me.
Kabe's shoulder brushed mine as he craned his neck
'round to take in Pete. Probably wondered who the guy who looked like a fencepost with an attitude was. Myron, wedged at the other end of the bench, made one of those sympathetic, disgusted sounds in the back of his throat.
Myron didn't much cotton to Pete. Can't say that I did, neither. Pete wrangled, cajoled and prodded people to get his way. When that didn't work, he'd flat out resort to bullying.
Effective, but not a particularly pleasant way to deal with things.
For the last six years, Pete served as Bishop for my Ward.
Spiritual leader, counselor, accountant ... Pete pretty much did it all. He had the time. Retired from teaching school a ways back and all his kids were grown; being the Bishop was a full time job without pay. I did not want to deal with this or Pete. Nothing to do about it but just wade on through. Like trying to hold back the tide, a man was helpless against the wheels of the Church in these parts.
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I swung out of my truck and tried to be polite. "Evening Pete. Guessing word's gotten 'round to you, huh?" I managed to dredge up half a smile as I walked toward my own home like a man on his way to the gallows. "Ain't much of a time for a social call." About half way between the truck and the house, I stopped. Figured I'd make Pete come at least a little down to me.
Behind me, I heard both doors on the truck slam. I wished the timing had been better or the gossip grapevine less efficient. I knew it would come to this eventually. Didn't want it to. But I knew it would just as sure as I knew the sun'd rise tomorrow. Still, I could have done without an audience right about now.
Pete stood, jammed his hands in his pockets and didn't smile back. "Why don't we go inside, Joe?"
"I don't know, Pete." My chest felt heavy, like I had Pete sitting on it or something. "I'm thinking on that."
I felt more than heard Sheriff Simple come up next to me.
His rock steady grip found my shoulder. Myron held on probably a hair longer than just a friendly touch. I took the bare bit of sympathy it offered. He sighed, understanding without knowing what I was in for. "Look, Joe," he squeezed his fingers once before letting go. "I got to take the car on back, get Mr. Varghese home. You gonna be okay?"
"As okay as I can be, I guess." I fished my ring out of my pocket and passed it over. "Here's the keys." Hurt like hell, almost as bad as when Myron took my piece and badge. The last little bits of who I was being passed into the man's hand.
"Rifle's in the trunk."
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"Okay. I'll be in touch, Joe. You got my home phone. Use it if you need an ear to bend, I mean that." Myron shot a glare at Pete then returned his attention to me. "I didn't want to do what I had to. You're a damn decent deputy and a damn fine human being. I'm proud to know you." Somehow I knew Myron was telling me things so that Pete would hear 'em. The sheriff wanted me to know, but I think, maybe, he also wanted Pete to understand that I was still part of his team.
"Department wise it'll take a little time to sort out, but don't think you're getting away from me so easy." Leaning in, he added in a much softer voice, one that wouldn't carry far.
"Think you could live with a drop in grade?"
I kept my response pretty low, too. Myron and I both knew that eventually it would get around. The longer we could stall the less impact it'd have. "Not like I have a whole lot of choice." I shrugged and glanced over at Kabe, who'd come up on my other side. From the look in his eyes, he'd caught that there was no love lost between the Sheriff and Pete. Probably wondered why and who the hell Pete was. No time to bring the boy up to speed right then.
"There's always choices, Joe." Myron bumped my arm with his fist, like a coach egging a player on. Stepping back, he spoke up loud enough for Pete to hear. "Sometimes, Joe, you just got to decide where to draw the line." For the first time he directly acknowledged that Pete was there, turning, nodding and touching the brim of his hat in a simple greeting.
He didn't say a darn thing to the Bishop though. Myron jerked his head toward my patrol car. "Mr. Varghese, you come on with me. Take you back up to the Harding place."
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Kabe's eyes narrowed and his gaze jumped between me, the sheriff and Pete, then back again. I could almost see the wheels turning. After a moment, he screwed up his mouth into a tight grimace and crossed his arms over his chest.
"No," Kabe shook his head to emphasize. "I think I'll stay here."
"No, Kabe," stepping up real close, I dropped my voice to a whisper, I certainly didn't want Pete to hear our exchange.
"You go on. You don't want to stick around and see this." I'd told him a little of what happened in the Sheriff's office. Don't know as he understood all of the problems though.
Kabe's glare jerked toward the man standing on the steps.
"Who is he?"
"My Bishop." I sighed and tried to play it down for Kabe, "I think I'm about to get a righteous talking to."
"No way am I leaving then."
I reached up and laid my hand, real gentle, on his shoulder. "Your ears don't need to hear what he's gonna say."
I used the touch to start him walking with me toward the Sheriff and his ride off my property.
"Yeah," Kabe snorted. "Well, I'm pretty sure I'll have some choice words back for him, too."
I stopped and turned so that we were face to face. Pete'd already had the worst of it. Pretty soon he'd figure out who Kabe was. My other hand wrapped around Kabe's bicep. "And that's why I don't want you here." How we stood, how I touched him, well it said something about us and I didn't right care then. "Let him say his piece and let him go home."
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"I'm not leaving." That same focused determination that I'd seen take hold of him on the wall swarmed up over his features. "What are you going to do, Joe? Handcuff me and throw me in the back of the patrol car? I'm not going to leave you to face that alone. Fuck knows you didn't get into it by yourself. I shouldn't have teased you on the mike."
I pulled him in as close as I dared, damn near hissing in his face, "And I shouldn't have gotten nekkid with you in the back of my truck. But it's done now. There ain't no rolling back time."
A tiny bit of uncertainty flashed in those green eyes. I wasn't certain what Kabe was afraid of and I was a little too wrapped up in my own problems to try and track down why.
Softer, without all the bullheaded posturing, he asked, "You'd want to rewind to before it all happened?"
"Naw," I couldn't help but smile, even if it was a brief thing that blew past quick. "I'd like to move it back to before Ramon heard anything, or shoot him in the head or something. I don't think you know how much poison's here," I tapped the center of my chest, "right now. I wouldn't be held responsible if he came along any time soon."
"You and me both." Kabe snorted loud enough that Pete's glare went from annoyed to downright hateful.
"But I'm a big boy." I squeezed his arm, letting Kabe know I didn't hold none of this against him. "I chose what to do and did it. And, frankly," what little bit of smile I could find, I gave to Kabe, "I'd do it again. Sooner or later something like this was bound to happen, anyway. Just happened in the sooner rather than later. There's a lot of lying and hiding that's about 183
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to catch up with me." Letting go, I stepped back and kinda brushed him off toward where Myron stood—acting like he didn't see nor hear nothing. "I got T's number, here's mine." I yanked the pen off where I'd clipped it to my collar, grabbed his hand and scribbled the number in ballpoint down his forearm. "You know where I live now. I ain't saying I don't want you around. There're some things, though, that don't need to be witnessed. This is one of them. So buck it up and take it on home."
"Joe..." I could almost see the protests building on his tongue.
"Look, Kabe," I growled, cutting him off. "Do you have any respect for me at all?"
"More than you probably know."
"Then you respect me on this. Please, give me that little bit of pride, 'cause I ain't gonna have a whole lot left when this all blows down."
Kabe glanced at Pete and then swung back on me. "I think it's a really bad idea to leave you alone."
"But it's what I need you to do." I pushed him toward the car. "Go on." I smiled then, as best I could when I felt like screaming. "Get yourself on home. I'll call T's place in the morning, promise." He shook his head and started to open his mouth. I cut him off again. "I said now. Get! We'll talk later."
Something dark and hard closed down over him, locking all his emotions down like when I first met him. Even his eyes went flat. He jerked his shoulders like nothing much mattered, then wandered to the car and climbed in without 184
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even looking back at me. Fine enough, I'd talk it out with him later.
Myron shot one last nasty look at Pete before getting in as well. The car started with a rumble and gravel crunched as Myron put it in gear. Time to get the party going. I didn't wait to watch 'em go, just turned on my heel, pushed past Pete on the stairs and let myself in. Didn't bother to invite Pete to follow, I figured he just would whether I wanted him to or not.
Light was fading outside so I flicked on the lights as I went in. Everything seemed a heck of a lot more barren than it had this morning. The dishes from breakfast, a double set of them, still sat on the counter. Probably should clean up, but I didn't much want to bother right then. I turned just quick enough to catch Pete staring at the sink with the bowls, spoons and mugs. Yeah, he likely figured out what it meant.
Not that it was any worse than what he'd already heard.
Tearing his gaze from them, like a simple set of cereal bowls held some evil power to stain his soul, Pete minced into my living room and shuddered ... man walked like a cat across Velcro. "Let's talk, Joe." Pete settled onto the worn cushions of my couch and folded his hands across his knees.
A sad smile worked across his mouth, drawing down the lines on his face. "I've known you since you were a kid. What happened?" Just jump in and swim—that was Pete all over.
"Did something taint you while you worked at the prison?"
I dropped down heavy into my recliner. Thing had seen more years than the couch. I rubbed my temples before growling out, "Even you can't be that stupid, Pete."
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He laughed, but didn't sound amused at all. "You know what I mean."
"Actually, cain't say as I do."
"Seeing how those men act in prison." Shaking his head like he couldn't fathom the minds of such fallen men, how they'd choose to be that way, Pete blew out a long-suffering sigh then clucked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "Maybe it made you think that this was acceptable." He leaned forward, pretending at sympathy. "Or was it him? They told me he's a convict. It turned your head thinking that nobody's going to know, just this once." Pete rolled his hands so they rested palm up, like Christ's did in the print I could just see over his shoulder. "We all have urges and I know it's hard not to give in sometimes. I know you're lonely. You don't have a woman in your life. At your age, that's got to be frustrating."
I had to count to ten under my breath before I could answer. "I don't have a woman in my life, Pete, because it ain't a woman I want in my life."
"This is the Devil talking in you, Joe." His voice was deep and even. Definitely a minister's voice ... or a used car salesman's, didn't right know which at that point. "You don't mean that. I know you."
"You don't know nothing of me." I actually laughed as I said it. "You hate what I am."
"No, Joe, God loves everyone."
"God may love me, you don't."
"I love with God's love." If my sin was lust, his was lying.
I'd heard enough hate spill out of that mouth over the years to know how he felt. The churches
public position
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homosexuality didn't come nowhere close to Pete's opinion about
fags
. "Joe, he loves you too much to leave you like you are. You know the Bible, Joe." Lord, I was about to get scripture thrown at me. Done that for two years during my service as an Elder on my mission. I could toss the Bible
'round with most anyone. "Leviticus," He intoned, going straight for the gut shot, "'it is an abomination for a man to lie with a man as with a woman, and those that do so shall surely be put to death.'"
"'For everyone who curses his father or his mother shall surely be put to death. He who has cursed his father or his mother. His blood shall be upon him.'" I shot back. "That's Leviticus too, you gonna have me shoot every kid who sasses back his ma?"
Pete shook his head like he expected the comeback and it was beneath him to respond in words. The church teaches you that, avoid and redirect the conversation to where you want it to go. Be reasonable and don't put your own views into it unless you're testifying about your faith. Keep your tone friendly and you'll get converts or bring wayward members back into the fold. He smiled without warmth.
"There's places that can help, Joe. They'll work with you, make you understand what's wrong..."