Malice (6 page)

The old man fell silent.

Alex asked him, “That it?”

“No,” he added reluctantly. “We were working on a bike together once, damn chain kept coming off, one of them foreign pieces a crap, you know. Anyhow, he told me that Samantha’s mum kept askin’ him over when Samantha wasn’t there, but he’d always say no ‘cause he had to work. But you know how women can get when they got somethin’ in their sights. So she kept insistin’, till finally he got tired of saying no. Kid used to say that when that woman wanted something, she dang never gave up till she got it.”

Alex shook his head, unable to hide the amazement on his face.

“Used to say she was real rough with him. Used to tie him up and slap his face before they…before she put it to him, as they say.”

The words rang in Alex’s head. He knew what was coming, the way you see an offspeed baseball, but it still nearly knocked him out when it finally hit.

“One time the sheriff came home early and Derek had to jump off the second-floor balcony.” He saw the shock on Alex’s face and added. “You know the way kids are. I just always assumed he was making it up.”

“Yeah, he probably was,” Alex lied, hoping the old man wouldn’t notice the way his eyes had become thick and watery. “Anything else?”

“Sure, lots. Said she gave him a key to the house after they had done it a few times. Showed it to me, but there ain’t no way anyone can tell one key from another. He did seem pretty proud of himself.”

“And …”

“Well, the boy came into work pretty upset a few months later. Wouldn’t tell me why. Think I was the only one he could tell about what was going on.”

The old man cocked one of the antennae, then adjusted it lower. “You know how it is when you have a big secret: It’s gotta come out sometime. One day he comes in and tells me she’s called it off. Said her and her husband were trying to work things out. Can’t remember ever seeing him that upset.”

Alex put his hat back on. He couldn’t believe all this had been going on. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“Truth is, I have no idea where he is, Deputy. Could be three states away by now, especially if he’s on a bike. Like I told you, those hands of his were made for fixin’ bikes. He’s a darn good mechanic.”

Alex thanked the old man and opened the door to leave. The tiny bell rang overhead. Before the door could close, he heard ol’ man Wallace shouting from inside. “If you find him, you tell him he still has a job if he wants—” The door slammed shut, muffling the rest.

Alex started his cruiser and drove away.

“Am I in the hospital?”

Lysander’s mother crossed her arms over her belly, an expression of dismay plastered all over her face.

Samantha’s eyes grew wide. “A nice man carried you home from the park and then I called the ambulance. Your parents have been worried to death over you.”

Yeah, sure they have
, Lysander thought.

The door opened and two men entered the room; the first wearing a doctor’s white lab coat, the second corduroy pants and a loose sweater. They both looked at Samantha. Reluctantly, she leaned over Lysander and whispered, “I’m glad you’re all right.” Then she rose and left the room.

In so many words, the man in the white coat proceeded to tell Lysander that he had suffered a seizure that very well might have killed him. The doctor’s round, pudgy face made Lysander think of old women and how they loved pinching the cheeks of little children.

“Lysander,” said the large man in the white coat as he turned to indicate the man standing next to him: quiet and casually dressed. “I’ve spoken to your parents and we think you should speak with Mr. Avery here. He’s not a shrink. And he’s not here to judge you. He’s a therapist and he just wants to talk.”

Avery approached the side of Lysander’s bed slowly and threw the others a look which told them he wanted to be alone with Lysander. The others shuffled out of the room in a ragged line. The doctor was the last to go, shutting the door behind him.

Avery held out his hand. “Hello, Lysander. You can call me Jack.”

Lysander kept his hands by his side.

Avery sat down. “Lemme make something clear to you. I’m not here to be your buddy, Lysander. Nor am I interested in whether or not you like me. You have a very serious condition. A lot of people don’t get up and walk away from what you have, and the doctors here aren’t sure what’s causing it.”

Lysander studied the deep lines in the man’s face. He seemed weathered, beaten up by the world, but there was a wisdom hidden in those eyes that he couldn’t deny.

What did he need Avery for when he knew perfectly well how the problem had started?

The old man had been sitting by himself in the kitchen with the lights out. The phone was off the hook, and his father was gripping the receiver in one hand.

Lysander stood there, not sure what do to.

His father ignored him until he realized he wasn’t going to leave. His gaze rose and met Lysander’s. His eyes were puffy and mapped with red lines.

Lysander went to the fridge. He would make his own dinner.

“Your little brother died today, Lysander.”

He froze as he reached for the processed cheese.

“Dr. Johnson says a miscarriage in the third trimester could have killed her.”

He didn’t look back. His tiny face crumpled.

“When she got the call. When she fell,” his father paused, tilted the whiskey back and then crushed an ice cube between his back molars. “The fall must have ...”

The cheese fell to the floor with a clean slap. Lysander half turned, his voice quavering.

“It wasn’t my faul—”

“Not your…really? Then whose fault was it, son? Your school principal calls saying you’ve accused the counselor of trying to molest two kids. You’re a ten-year-old boy, for Christ’s sake. What do you know about sex? You shoulda seen your mother’s face.”

His father tilted the neck of the bottle filling his glass and then some.

“I don’t think you understand the impact a stupid joke like that could have. You might have ruined the career of a respected family man.”

The fridge door was still open, and cool air tickled his cheek.

“But Simon Shaw said it happened in Mr. McDowell’s office when no one else was around. Then Adrian Keslaw said almost the same thing, but both of them were too scared to do anything about it. I felt like I had to.” His face fell. “I knew you and Mom would never understand.”

His father sounded deathly tired. “If you’d just come to us in the first place, none of this would have happened. The baby…and now they’re talking about firing the man and suspending you if you’re lying. Goddammit, Lysander, are you lying? Is this just another one of your make-believe stories?”

“No,” Lysander screamed. Fresh tears were streaming down his face.

“I don’t believe you.”

“But it’s true, I swear it.”

Glenn eyed his drink sullenly. “Get out of my sight, Lysander. I don’t want to see your face right now.”

Lysander didn’t move.

“That’s it, no dinner for you, get right up those stairs and go straight to bed.”

But he couldn’t leave just yet. Somehow in Lysander’s young mind, to allow his father to dismiss him as a liar would be to prove him right.

His father rose to his full menacing height.

Lysander was suddenly aware that Sandy, their golden retriever, was at his side, looking up at him with her great sunken eyes. Glenn’s booming voice had alarmed her.

His father crossed the room. “You may never have felt the back of my hand, but I promise if you don’t get up those stairs this minute, I’ll slap you so fucking hard!”

Lysander’s whole body was gripped with terror. When his father saw he had no intention of moving, his expression darkened even more. He lunged and grabbed his son by the scruff of his collar. Sandy let out a low growl, but his father wasn’t going to stop until Lysander went up those stairs, even if it meant dragging him like a sack of dirty laundry. He clasped a hand around Lysander’s tiny arm and Sandy jumped between them, shielding Lysander with her great furry body, her teeth bared, that low growl now a menacing snarl. For several moments his father stood eye to eye with Sandy, the animal’s hot breath lapping against his nose. Even enraged, Lysander’s father had the sense to back off.

“I’m gonna put that fucking dog down!” he yelled.

As he walked upstairs, his father screamed after him: “You’ve cursed this family, Lysander, I don’t know how or why but you have. Since the day you were born you’ve brought us nothing but pain.” His father’s words had felt like so many razors, slicing away chunks of his flesh.

From that day on, he had accepted responsibility for his mother’s miscarriage, and he decided never to speak of it again. Since that day there was an empty chasm between him and his father. He might not have been able to articulate it in words at the time, but that day a part of him had died.

These were wounds Lysander would never tell anyone about. But what surprised him most was that Avery did most of the talking, about his own life, his schooling, the old MGB he spent time restoring. Lysander couldn’t help but notice a sense of grief—or was it guilt?—behind those eyes, filled before with such calm and wisdom. He too had battle scars. If nothing else, for the first time in his life, Lysander was happy he wasn’t alone.

“Then what
do
you want?” Samantha said challengingly.

She and Alex were the only ones in the Millingham police station. He had seen Sam coming out of the hospital and convinced her it was in her best interest to come with him.

He poked a finger in the air. “First, I want you to swear you’ll never tell your father what happened when I…when Derek was resisting arrest. Second, I don’t want you to think of me as your enemy. I’m not all that much older than you. If you tried, we could become friends ... and who knows what else?” Alex swallowed. His mouth was dry.

Samantha’s arms folded over her chest. She had felt his gaze dropping to her breasts more than once in the last few minutes. “And—”

“Consider it and I’ll call off the dogs. I stop actively looking for Derek. If he leaves town then so be it. Just as long as he doesn’t show his face around here anymore.”

“So he’s exiled?”

“For his own good, yes. Look, I know he’s a friend of yours, but the kid’s bad news. He’s a troublemaker. He’s gotten you into trouble more than once already. You’re just lucky your dad’s the sheriff or you’d be wanted too.”

She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers. “Can you take me home please? I’m gonna be late for school.”

“Not till your dad gets here.”

How long would that be? She wanted to know. His deputy was creeping her out. Sam fiddled with a pencil on Alex’s desk.

“Want something?” he asked, his hands sliding into his pockets.

She looked up at him. “Uh, sure. Got any Coke?”

Alex stiffened.

“Coca-Cola, Alex,” she said, not hiding her irritation. “Wouldn’t mind something to eat.” She was suddenly aware of the empty feeling in her belly.

“Granola bar?” He was being nice to her now, but she knew his whole speech had been a ploy. Alex hated Derek so much, she knew he’d never stop looking for him. The satisfaction of slamming his ass behind bars would be too great.

She nodded.

“Be right back.”

She watched him leave the room. Finally she was alone and the idea that struck her then was nothing short of brilliant.

If Alex had a file on Derek, maybe there was a way she could look inside and adjust the evidence against him. Like the time the receptionist had gone for lunch and Samantha had changed all of Derek’s grades from Ds to B+s. It wouldn’t be that hard, would it? His desk was so organized and what was the danger with him downstairs busily making her sandwich? She giggled with excitement. This might just work. The file folders on his desk were arranged alphabetically. She fingered through the tabs and found lots of names, but no Derek Thomas.

Next she would try his desk drawers. He had three of them. One that pulled out over her lap and two deep bucket drawers by her left leg. She tried the shallow one and found it locked. Damn! Then she tried the one by her knee. It slid open easily enough. Inside was an Eldon filing unit. Could this guy get any more anal? If her heart wasn’t beating so fast she might have let out a squeal of laughter. She began leafing through the files, but still she found nothing.

She went to the second drawer and found more of the same. For a moment she was dumbfounded. Alex must have a file somewhere around here. At last, her focus came to rest on the shallow drawer by her thighs. Centering the drawer was a gold keyhole. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. There had to be some way of getting it open. She lifted a corner of his desk calendar, but there was no key. She scanned Alex’s desk and noticed a coffee cup filled with dozens of elastic bands and paper clips. She reached her fingers inside and wiggled them around. She heard a clinking sound. Her eyes lit up. She fumbled a tiny key out of the cup and slid it past the lips of the keyhole. She turned it clockwise and heard the tumblers release.