Light the Hidden Things (38 page)

Absolutely silent, the crowd stared at Crow and waited. Half-smiling, he gestured, brushing away trifling annoyance. "No need to sugarcoat things on my account. Tell them the serious arrest included trespassing and theft. I took a puppy from the man involved. I'd do it again. Go ahead and tell folks that assault and battery was the lesser charge attached to the intent to kill thing. Just between you and me, that word 'intent' still bothers me. You know how the law twists things. Believe me, if I intended to kill him, he'd be dead. Aside from all that, you got it pretty much straight, but I believe you probably just forgot to mention all charges were dismissed. That can happen even to a thoughtful, looking-out-for-folks person. Like you."

Lila yanked on the arm in her grasp. A sharp pain in her fingers made her realize how strongly she'd clenched them. "That's enough," she said. "You're all wound up. Don't you dare take a chance on getting hurt. It could be...awful. I won't let it happen."

Van took a step up the aisle.

Major moved, causing Crow to lose contact with him. It forced him to turn away from Lila, silencing any response. First, Crow noted Van's abrupt stop. Then, looking down, he saw Major on his feet, head lowered. Crow commanded, "Sit." Reluctantly, the dog obeyed.

Beyond Van, Piers startled everyone when he broke the silence. "You done, Mr. Crow?" Then, shifting his attention to Van, his smile blossomed to a full-out grin. "How about you, Mr. Vanderkirk; you done all your damage now?"

The Chief interrupted. "Enough. I'm taking Pastor Richards into custody until we iron this out."

Once again, the crowd mumbled angrily. Unruffled, Piers continued. "It won't hurt to wait just a minute, Chief. Will you give me that?"

Van said, "I told you to shut up once. Let the law do what it has to do."

Piers said, "In a minute." Without waiting for either the Chief or Van, he busied himself at his projector. The reappearance of the light quieted everyone.

Lila whispered to Crow, "What's he talking about?"

Crow said, "All I know is he quit smiling. I think we find out now what he's got up his sleeve." Next to Lila, Marge agreed. "I've been thinking the same thing. Sly, that's what he is."

Piers faced the crowd as if he were on a stage. The second newspaper image with the headline of escape filled the screen. Piers said, "I've worked for Mr. Vanderkirk several times. He's a difficult client. This job put me in the position of doing some unethical things. Yes, private investigators do have ethics. Same as lawyers or bankers. We have expenses, too. The job before this one, Mr. Vanderkirk gouged hell out of me. Pardon the French, Pastor. He may know something about embezzlement. He knows more about extortion."

"I warned you." Van advanced on Piers.

The Chief caught him by the shoulder. Van whirled to face the interference. Stepping back, calm but ready, the Chief told Van, "Take a seat, Mr. Vanderkirk. You started all this. I'm giving your man some time to play it out."

"You can't tell me what to do. I'll get you fired."

"That could happen. But not before this man talks to us. Now sit down or go to jail."

Back in her pew, the woman who'd confronted Van was re-energized. "Lock him up, Gary. Who needs him? Mr. Piers, what've you got for us?" She sat down before the exasperated Chief could tell her. Van threw himself onto a pew, scowling. He told Piers, "I hope you know how much trouble you're in."

Piers said, "Likewise, Mr. Vanderkirk," his grin apparently gone for good. Piers spoke to the Pastor. "Up front, my apologies for putting you through this, sir. I had to give Mr. Vanderkirk enough rope. That last headline I put up? Computer trick. Never happened. Here's the article you want to read." Another headline popped up:
"Miracle On Alexander Avenue."

Piers turned off the projector. "They took your victim to the morgue after Medic One pronounced him dead. They were rolling him in when he sat up and asked if anyone had a joint. You didn't kill anyone. Knocked him out, is all. He did time, along with the rest of that bunch. He works for a medical marijuana place now. Finally got that joint he craved, I guess. He said to tell you no hard feelings."

Wobbling, the Pastor forced himself to his feet. The Chief steadied him. The Pastor croaked, then, "He lived?"

Van charged Piers. Once more, the Chief moved to stop him. This time, however, Van was prepared. He set himself, threw a straight right hand with his whole body behind it. The fist hit the oncoming Chief between the eyes. He dropped in a quivering heap. Then Van was on Piers. The smaller man had no chance, but he didn't retreat. Van was battering him mercilessly by the time Crow reached the end of the aisle. Lila and Garza both raced after them, Lila alternately yelling for him to stop and shouting at 911 on her cell phone.

At the sight of the onrushing Crow, Van let Piers fall and seized the staff of an encased flag. He aimed the glinting brass spearhead and charged, bellowing like a bull. For Crow it was bayonet drill. He turned sideways, pushing at the shaft. The point slipped harmlessly past. Van hurtled on. Crow, in total control now, smashed a forearm into Van's forehead. Van's head snapped back. He slammed to the floor. Incredibly, he rolled away, gaining distance in order to stand and fight more.

Two steps had Crow standing over Van. Now he was the one holding the flagstaff. He crouched, taut, the point wedged into the hollow at the base of Van's throat. Skin puckered dead white around the gilded metal. Crow's face was a mask, huge-eyed, teeth bared in a pure animal snarl. Rigid, Van stared into it and gibbered terror.

The thing howling in Crow's head brought unbearable pain. He screamed agony and fear. The voice he believed he'd vanquished long ago raged its triumph. It told Crow to kill.

The spearhead waited, poised at the end of a red tunnel. Crow wanted - needed - to plunge it into the trembling flesh. All the dreams, all the hallucinations, all the mourning shimmered on the tip of the shining metal. The evil of the world was concentrated there.

The voice sang of killing to be free.

Somewhere far away a woman called Crow. He ignored the sound, but only for a moment. It called again. The howling retreated. The murderous voice cursed the woman. Crow turned from Van. The red tunnel sought her out. Lila's features were contorted, pleading. When Crow looked into her eyes they twisted his soul.

Spinning away from that, he concentrated again on the spearpoint, savored the blood lust devouring his mind. Then, shivering violently, he stepped back and broke the weapon across his thigh. As he threw the broken pieces down the voice in his head shrieked as if he'd stabbed it.

The tunnel disappeared.

Dreamlike, Crow moved to where Piers lay moaning. He called to Garza, looking over his shoulder at the instant Major pulled Garza off his feet and tore free. Crow dropped in time to dodge under Van's swing with the clubbed half of the spear shaft. The larger man recovered before Crow could regain to his feet. The club swung again.

Major leaped past in a blur. He crashed into Van's chest, cancelling the blow. Impact bowled the man backwards. The dog fell with him, roaring, savaging him. Van's cries soared.

Crow rushed to pull Major off. He moved too fast, stumbled. Out of control, he fell forward, ever faster. Outstretched hands slammed into Major's side. To the dog, it was a surprise attack. He reacted. His jaws snapped shut on Crow's left arm between wrist and elbow like the strike of shears. Crow yelled and sprawled away, clutching a gushing wound.

Major barked once. Then he backed off, whining.

Garza was on Crow quickly, cutting off Crow's sleeve, using it as a pressure bandage. He was shouting directions to the people tending the Chief, Piers, and Van when the emergency medical team rushed in. A young woman efficiently wrapped a bandage around Crow's arm while Lila fluttered around them, touching Crow as if assuring herself he was still there. Garza went to help the EMTs with Van and Piers. When the EMT was done with Crow, she said, "That's got to hurt. I'll give you something." She had the needle poised when Crow grabbed her wrist. She flinched in alarm.

He said, "I don't see Major."

She pulled against his hold. "What?"

Lila said, "His dog. Big, brown. He bit... He was part of all this."

Crow released the woman, stood up. Lila grabbed him. She said, "It's all right. The excitement... He's off in a corner or something."

The EMT said, "A dog ran out when we came in. "

Yanking free of Lila, grimacing at the pain, Crow walked away. The EMT objected. "Sir, you need stitches. Treatment. You can't..."

Lila said, "Wait. I'm coming with you."

He turned. Inadvertently, she cried out, raised fisted hands to her cheeks. The face she looked at was ruined, the eyes she looked into were raw pain. He said, "Don't you see? It's happening again. He's run away. Because I destroy..." He broke off, choked, wiped at his downturned face with one hand and tried again. "I destroy everything I love. Keep away. Leave me alone."

"This is where he'll come," Crow said to Lila. In the darkness the newly-painted white of Bake's Place was a beacon. Crow switched off the pickup's headlights. Lila's heart lurched. Faintly shrouded by a three-quarter moon the building's image changed to ghostly and ominous.

Lila said, "I hope you're right. Everyone in town's looking for him."

Crow opened his door and stepped to the ground, cutting her off. "I've told you all evening; don't get involved. If you're not smart enough to look out for yourself, I'll do it. The minute I find him, I'll bivouac down at the county campsite. I'll stick around here until tonight's mess is straightened out, but that's it." He headed for the Airstream.

Lila ran after him. "Don't you dare turn your back on me. I love Major, too. You can't close me out."

Looking up into the starred sky without turning, he said, "Please. You have to know how hard this is for me." All the fierceness was melted from his voice. The forlorn remainder gripped Lila's heart like claws.

She pleaded. "Hard for you? I'm the one who said 'I love you.' I know you love me, even if you'd rather die alone in a ditch than say so." Crow still faced away from her. Secretly she was glad. She'd seen his hurt and knew she couldn't do what she had to do now if she saw that again. Lost, with no way to fight back, she edged into surrender. "At least be honest enough to tell me you love me before you go. Can you understand that, Crow? Do you have any idea how much that would mean to me?"

"It wouldn't change anything."

"I know that. I'm looking for crumbs now. A woman wants to be told she's loved. A lot of us know it's a lie and we settle for it anyhow. You'd never lie like that to me. But what you're doing's worse."

The silence stretched for so long she despaired.

Finally, he made the slightest gesture with the uninjured arm. He said, "I'm leaving the pickup here. I'll come for it after I find Major."

The callous dismissal of everything she'd said was crippling. She gasped, barely heard her own anguished, "Oh, Crow." Above her, the moon spiraled. Stars whirled. She tottered sideways.

Somehow he sensed her distress, caught her as she fell. Dimly, she recalled that happening once before. This time there was no rush of emotion or exciting speculation. She looked up into concerned features inches away. He lifted her until she steadied. He said, "I can't talk to you about love. If I did... You've seen what happens. You mean so much..." He took a deep breath. "I have to go."

Numb with disappointment, she watched darkness swallow him. A tiny piece of her mind said it was an appropriate metaphor. Then she went home.

*          *          *          *         *

Crow dressed warmly for his vigil. Drizzling rain touched his face when he stepped outside. In the distance a coyote yipped complaint. Crow retreated to a cabinet and brought out a .45 automatic and shoulder holster. After strapping on the rig, he pulled out two weatherproof ponchos and went out again. It took him several minutes to get a good fire in the pit. Dense smoke roiled from the rain-dampened wood and crawled away through the brush.

Crow settled against an old fir, wearing one poncho, draping his lower body with the second. He was already shivering. Conversationally, he said, "I know you're around, Major. I'll wait. Everything's ok."

The answer was a delicate patter of rain and the irritable crackle and spit from the fire.

Time passed. A superstitious fear of bad luck kept Crow from looking at his watch. The coyotes - several now, and closer - yipped and sang. Rain and fire kept up a monotonous dialogue. The only break was when Crow forced himself to lever upright a body stiffened by wet cold so he could refuel the pit.

Then Major was there. Little more than his white blaze, dim at the edge of the firelight. Softly, Crow said, "Everything's ok, boy, hear? It was an accident, is all. I've cut myself worse shaving. Come on over to me." Smothering a groan, Crow moved to get up.

Major disappeared. No sound, no disturbed brush. Simply gone.

Crushed, Crow slumped back against his tree.

Behind him, Lila said, "He'll be back."

Crow bent around to look at her. "You scared him away."

"I did not. He spooked when you moved. I don't blame him. You didn't say the right things."