'Til Death (A Rebel Ridge Novel) (24 page)

He seemed to remember his mama putting something in her mop
water that made the house smell clean, but there wasn’t anything to hand but
soap. It would have to do. He sloshed the sponge mop around in the bucket,
squeezed out the excess water and got to work.

The water was brown almost instantly, but he kept throwing it
out and getting fresh as he mopped his way through the house until the floors
were shiny and the rooms smelled like pine. That was when he realized it wasn’t
anything Mama had put
in
the water to make it smell
good. It was the raw pine floors themselves. He stood back, looking at the rooms
with an air of satisfaction and eyeing the furniture. The cushions of the couch
were worn down to the foam rubber padding, and the arms of the easy chair were
coming apart. He thought for a minute, then got down two old quilts from the
linen closet and draped one over the chair and the other over the sofa. The room
looked better, but even more, Fagan
felt
better.
When he got a little money he might get himself a new couch and chair, but for
now, this would suffice.

He started to sit down, then thought of the dogs he’d abandoned
to the cold and sighed. It was hard being responsible. He grabbed his work coat
and a pair of gloves, and headed out back to the dog run. He couldn’t remember
the last time they’d put new straw in the doghouses, but there were a few bales
left in the barn.

A short while later he had all four doghouses filled with
straw, and put bowls of food and fresh water inside the run. The dogs kept
moving around him with their tails between their legs. It shamed him that he’d
treated the dogs like Prince had treated him, but that wasn’t happening anymore.
After a quick pat on their heads, he closed the gate to the pen and hurried back
inside.

The day had started out all sunny, but the sky was getting
grayer. Only a couple of days before Thanksgiving and it felt like it was going
to snow. If it did, it would be their second snow of the season, and it wasn’t
even winter yet, which didn’t bode well for what lay ahead.

He hurried back inside, carrying an armload of new wood with
him, and set it down in a small pile beside the fireplace. When he hung up his
coat, the scent of his clothes and body were the only offensive smells in the
house. He took himself to the laundry, stripped off everything he was wearing
and dumped in into the washer, along with some of the clothes piled against the
wall, and started up the machine. He took clean sheets and pillowcases out of
the dryer, and walked naked through the house to remake his bed.

It felt weird to be taking a shower and washing his hair in the
middle of the day, but he couldn’t stop at just cleaning the house. He felt an
overwhelming need to clean himself inside and out, as well. By the time he was
dry and dressed in clean clothes, he was starving.

A quick glance out the window assured him that the fire in the
fire pit was down to ashes. A thin wisp of smoke drifted up into the air and
dissipated above the treetops. He turned on the television in the other room so
he could hear it as he worked and began making himself a meal. After he started
a pot of coffee, he opened a can of soup and put it on to heat, then cut some
cheese off the block of cheddar to go with his crackers.

He carried his food to the table, then sat down to eat,
crumbling some crackers in his soup without thought and popping a hunk of cheese
into his mouth as he waited for his soup to cool.

As he sat, he thought about his brother’s body, floating
somewhere in the Kentucky River, and wanted to cry. They’d been close when they
were little. It was only after they got older that Prince changed. He hung out
more with Wendell and turned mean. Fagan never had understood how a person could
change that radically and wondered if Prince had always been that way, and if he
himself had been too little and timid to understand.

He worried some about how he would pay for the funeral when
they finally found Prince and hoped Lucy would be willing to chip in. They
didn’t have to like each other, but when it came to dying, blood was blood and
family had to do their part.

He was washing up his dishes when he heard the dogs begin to
bark. He turned off the water and was drying his hands as he headed to the
living room. When he peeked out the window he saw the sheriff’s car and his
heart dropped. They must have found Prince’s body. Oh Lord, he hoped they didn’t
make him identify it. He didn’t want to remember Prince that way.

When he heard their footsteps on the porch he opened the door,
then nearly slammed it in their faces. It took everything he had not to cut and
run when he saw Lincoln Fox coming up behind the sheriff and his deputy.

“What’s he doing here?” Fagan asked.

“Can we come in?” Marlow asked.

Fagan stepped aside, keeping a watchful eye on Fox as the men
came into the house.

Marlow and Eddy had been in this house not too long ago and
were stunned at the change. They glanced at each other and rolled their eyes,
but didn’t comment.

“I reckon y’all can take a seat,” Fagan said, but Lincoln Fox
didn’t sit down when the others did. He was standing between the sofa and the
door, like he was blocking the exit. It made Fagan nervous all over again. He
glanced up at Fox and then quickly looked away.

“We need to talk,” Marlow said.

Tears began to roll down Fagan’s face. “Did you find Prince?
Did you find his body?”

Marlow frowned. “No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to lead you
on about that. As far as I know they’re still looking.”

Fagan covered his face, ashamed to be crying in front of them,
but he couldn’t stop.

“Last time I saw him, we had a fight. I made him leave the
house ’cause he’s nothing but trouble.”

Lincoln kept moving from one window to the other, then back
again, wanting to take control of the conversation and get it over with.

Marlow could hear him pacing the floor and knew it was just a
matter of time until he lost it. He pulled the search warrant out of his pocket
and handed it to Fagan.

“Fagan, this here is a search warrant. It gives us the right to
search the premises, including all the outbuildings.”

Linc was watching Fagan’s face. The man didn’t look perturbed
in any way. Maybe he thought too many years had passed for him to worry, and
maybe he’d been nothing more than a bystander to other people’s crimes. Still,
he must have known, and he had chosen to say nothing. In Lincoln’s book, whether
you did the killing or watched it being done, it didn’t change the guilt
factor.

“Okay,” Fagan said. “I don’t mind. If you tell me what you’re
lookin’ for, I might be able to help you find it sooner. I been cleaning up a
bit around here, and I sure would hate to have it messed up all over again.”

“We noticed,” Deputy Eddy said. “It’s nice.”

Fagan smiled. “Like Mama used to keep it.”

Marlow took advantage of the fortuitous opportunity. “Speaking
of your mama, God rest her soul...remember back to the time when the bank was
gonna take your place? When the foreclosure notice had already been served?”

Fagan nodded. “Lord, yes. Mama cried for days. We were all just
sick about it. We didn’t know what to do.”

Marlow leaned forward. “So how did you come by all the money to
pay off the bank so suddenly?”

Fagan never blinked. “Wendell and Prince. They left one day and
came back the next with it. Told Mama they’d gone to Louisiana and won it
gambling.”

“Like hell,” Linc said.

That made Fagan nervous. He stood abruptly, fairly certain that
if he confronted Fox the sheriff wouldn’t let anything happen. “Damn it, Fox,
either sit down or be still. You’re getting on my nerves.”

And just like that, Lincoln was in his face. “How did Wendell
and Prince come by that money? And don’t give us any bullshit about gambling.
Marlow didn’t ask what lie they told your mama. He asked where they got it.”

Fagan blinked. He looked to Marlow, and it appeared he wasn’t
buying the story, either, so he sat back down and tried another one.

“I know they stole it. But I don’t know where from.”

Marlow frowned at Lincoln, but he wasn’t backing down, so the
sheriff sighed and motioned to his deputy. “Roger...go out back, get the
evidence. Take pictures before you remove it. Bag everything else that looks
interesting, too, and bring it all back inside.”

“Yes, sir,” Eddy said, and left the house.

Fagan stood up. “Where’s he going?”

“To the barn to get the evidence nailed to the wall that proves
your brothers robbed a Lexington bank over eighteen years ago.”

Fagan frowned. “What evidence?”

“The license tag nailed on the barn wall matches the tag number
of the car the thieves were driving when they made their getaway.”

Fagan sat down with a flop. All of a sudden he was wondering if
he’d begun these changes in his life a little too late to make a difference.

“I didn’t know that,” he muttered, and combed his hands through
his hair in frustration.

“It’s hell being the only one alive to take the blame, isn’t
it?” Linc said.

Fagan gasped. “But I didn’t do it!”

“Yeah, neither did I, but it didn’t stop a jury from sending me
to prison,” Linc snapped.

Fagan moaned.

“You’ll need an alibi,” Marlow said. “Where were you on April
twelfth that year?”

“Well, hell! I don’t remember!” Fagan cried. “Everyone’s gone
now except me and Lucy, and she’s pissed off at me and wouldn’t tell the truth
if it kept me from hanging.”

Lincoln frowned. “Why is Lucy mad at you?”

Fagan glared. “You started it by going to her house and
threatening her,” he said.

Linc smiled, and it made Fagan more nervous than the man’s
anger had done.

“I didn’t threaten her. Is that what she called it? I just told
her why I’d come back and asked her if she’d been fucking Uncle Wes while she
was still married to Dad.”

Breath caught in the back of Fagan’s throat. He’d opened up a
conversation he didn’t want to have by mentioning his sister’s name. Now how did
he get out of it?

“I don’t know anything about her love life,” he muttered.

“But you knew your brothers stole the money that paid off your
place,” Marlow said.

Fagan shrugged.

“Who else knew about the theft?” Lincoln asked.

Fagan’s heart stopped. Oh, shit. Now he knew why the man was
here. Suddenly it made sense.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he muttered.

Lincoln lost the last of his patience.

“Damn it, Sheriff. I’ve had just about all of this pussyfooting
around the truth I can take. The little bastard knew the money that paid off
this place was stolen.”

Fagan panicked. “So what if I did? It doesn’t make me guilty of
theft.”

“Technically, you can be charged with abetting,” Marlow
said.

Fagan stood up again, but before he could move, Fox was in his
face.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Linc said. “And we’re not leaving
until you tell Marlow how my dad found out, and which one of you killed him to
shut him up.”

Fagan took a step backward and fell over the coffee table onto
the floor.

“I can’t take any more of this!” Fagan shouted. “I’m grieving
for my brother, and you-all can’t come in here and accuse me of something him
and Wendell did just because we shared the same blood.”

At that point the deputy came back inside with the license tag
neatly bagged for evidence.

“I got it,” he said. “And there’s an old wreck out behind the
barn that fits the description of the car the thieves were driving.”

“That’s Pa’s old car,” Fagan said.

Marlow stood up. “Where’s your coat?”

“In the hall closet, but why—”

The deputy went to the closet and pulled out the coat. “Put it
on, Fagan. You’re coming with us.”

“No!” Fagan cried, and began trying to explain. “No, you can’t!
I’m turning my life around. See? I cleaned up the house and the dog pens, and
I’m gonna start going back to church like we did when Mama was alive.”

“You might have cleaned a few floors and windows,” Linc said.
“But it takes more than that to clean up the lies you’ve lived with. The lies
that sent me to prison for a crime I did not commit.”

“I don’t know anything about that!” Fagan insisted. “I swear.
That was all Lucy and my brothers. All I did was call in a fire. You can’t blame
a man for calling in a fire. If you’re gonna take me, go open the gate to the
dog pen so they can go in and out. I don’t want them penned up in there and left
to starve.”

Marlow nodded at Eddy, who went out the back door. As soon as
he was gone, Marlow started in on Fagan again.

“Out of curiosity, how did you come to learn there
was
a fire?”

Fagan was still trying to bluff his way out. “Wendell and
Prince had been out running the dogs. They came home and said they saw it
burning when they drove past. They drove home to make the call.”

Linc remembered the voice in the trees behind him yelling at a
dog to shut the hell up. So Prince and Wendell had their dogs with them that
night. “But they didn’t call it in, you did,” he said. “Where were they while
you were on the phone?”

Fagan was beginning to shake. This was serious business, and
they weren’t letting up.

“Uh...they drove on back to help fight the fire, I guess. I
never left the house. Mama was sick that night, and I stayed home with her.”

Linc poked a finger in Fagan’s chest as Marlow put him in
handcuffs.

“Too damn convenient,” Linc said. “Everyone who could alibi you
is dead. I think you stole money and Dad found out. Did he threaten to go to the
police? Is that why you killed him?”

Fagan was crying again. “I didn’t do it! I swear to God I had
nothing to do with it! It was my brothers. They said he found out and told Lucy
he was going to the police. She called Wendell and told him it was his fault,
that he was bringing shame down on the family, and to keep it quiet, they had to
get rid of your dad to shut him up. They did it on her order. It wasn’t me. It
was
them.
”