Read Darkness the Color of Snow Online
Authors: Thomas Cobb
Darkness the Color of Snow (30 page)
He goes to Bobby's truck, parked next to his, also up on ramps. Maybe Bobby's phone is in the truck. But it isn't and he knows then that the phone is in Bobby's pocket, and Bobby is dead. And he can't touch Bobby, even to get the phone. He looks around the garage. The phone is in the office, and the office is locked. They are allowed to use the garage, but they can't go into the office.
H
E WALKS TO
the office and looks in the window in the door. There is the phone, sitting on the desk. The door is locked. He goes back and gets the three-Âpound hammer and swings it through the glass, reaches in and unlocks the door.
“N
INE ONE ONE.
What is your emergency?” the dispatcher asks.
“There's been a killing,” he says.
“Who is this?”
“There's three of them. Shot dead.”
“Where?”
“Baxter's. On 417.”
“Baxter's Garage on Route 417?”
“Yes.”
“Three dead?”
“I think so.”
“What's your name?”
“Kevin,” he lies.
“Are you there? Are you on the scene?”
“Yes.”
“Kevin what?”
“Just that. Kevin.”
“Is the shooter still there?”
“No.”
“Are you safe? Kevin? Stay there. I'm sending a car.”
T
HEY ARE SENDING
a car. The police are on their way. He puts down the phone and walks back into the garage. There is even more blood now. It's leaking out of them. His friends. The police are coming. He thinks maybe he can hear the siren in the distance.
He has done this, he thinks. He and his father. If his father hadn't pushed him to do that bullshit interview, none of this would have happened. He killed his friends as surely as if he had shot them himself. He and his father. His fucking, rat-Âass father.
He goes to the window and looks out. It's snowing hard now, but he doesn't see anything or anyone in the parking lot out front. Slowly and carefully, he opens the door, just a crack. When nothing happens, he cautiously sticks his head out the door, waits, then opens it farther. He throws the hammer into the garage, puts his head down, and runs out into the night, away from the garage, his friends, the police.
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G
ORDY'S DRIVING HOME
in the late morning when he hears it. “In news at the eleven o'clock hour, convicted mass murderer Ronald Forbert has died. Forbert, a former Lydell police officer, was convicted in the shooting deaths of three young men in December 2010. Officials at Attica Correctional Facility say that Forbert, who was awaiting execution for the murders, was found dead in his cell this morning. No cause of death has been identified, but sources say that drug overdose is suspected. An autopsy will be performed.
“In other news . . .” Gordy turns off the radio. He's feeling the cold vacancy of sudden shock. He makes a quick right at Hanley Burroughs Road and heads for the police station.
He hasn't been here since shortly after the murders and his retirement. He's not sure why, except that this seems not to have anything to do with his life anymore. Walking into the office he feels a warm familiarity. There are some new posters on the wall, new institutional gray carpet, and in the photo gallery on the wall inside the entrance the face of a new officer he doesn't know.
“Gordy,” John North calls. “Gordy, good to see you.”
“Morning, John. How've you been?”
“Good, Gordy. Good as gold. How about you?”
“Fine. I'm doing just fine.”
“How's retired life?”
Gordy thinks for a minute for the right word. “Blissful. It's blissful, John. Makes all that working worthwhile.”
“Hope I get to find out one day.”
“You've heard?”
Gordy turns to Pete, who has come out of his office and is standing a few feet away.
“Pete.” Gordy walks the steps toward Pete, extending his hand. Pete takes it and pulls him in for a hug.
“Good to see you, Gordy. Though not such a good occasion. You heard about Ronny.”
“Just now. On the radio. What do you know?”
“Not a lot,” Pete says. “Pretty certain it was an intentional OD.”
“Suicide.”
“Yeah. Suicide. He'd been trading blow jobs for barbiturates according to the captain of the guard.”
“Oh, God.”
“At least they didn't kill him,” Pete says. “He wasn't going to let that happen. You want some coffee? Our new guy, Andy, makes some pretty decent coffee. Starbucks.”
“Yeah. I'll take a cup. Been drinking tea in the morning. I'd love some good coffee.”
“Sit.” Pete motions to the chair as he turns to the coffeemaker. “Unless you want to talk in the office.”
“This is good. Good to see John. How's everyone else?”
“We're all good. Steve is out on patrol. Should be back shortly. He'll be glad to see you.” He hands Gordy a mug of coffee. “You keeping busy?”
“I am. I'm a part-Âtime goat farmer, now.”
“With Pam Garrity.”
“Yeah. I'm over there most of the time these days. Just helping out whatever way I can. Starting to do some of her deliveries now.”
“You know you're always welcome here.”
“Yeah. I do. Sorry I haven't been around. Just don't feel like this is really part of my life anymore.”
“I spend a lot of time wishing it wasn't so much of mine. So you're RWG, now?”
“RWG?”
“Retired with girlfriend. That sounds all right.”
“We're keeping separate places, but we spend a lot of time together. It's a pretty nice life. Keeps me out of trouble.”
“We have some more news. It hasn't been released yet, so you'll need to keep this under your hat for a day or two. Martin Glendenning has been arrested. The Staties stung him. Found a lot of equipment in Roger Laferiere's outbuildings. Matt had been storing it there. Roger flipped in about ten seconds. He's going to testify. But here's the best part. Martin's attention to detail? He kept records on every piece of equipment there. Dates, where it came from, where he sold it. Everything. He tied his own noose.”
“Are they going to try Roger?”
“He'll get a suspended sentence. No jail time.”
“Good job, Pete. That's great. After all those years of trying to get him.”
“It was all the Staties. How's that for irony? The guys he wanted to replace us with. Sometimes life is just rich.”
“Yeah,” Gordy says. “Sometimes.”
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I
WISH TO EXPRESS
my gratitude to my late brother George O. Cobb IV and to Paula Webb for sharing their stories, to Shane Fowler and Paco Kelly for their information and encouragement, to my editor Henry Ferris, and to my last grad studentsâÂKatie Brunero, Robert Lafebvre, Sherry Roulston, and Dave ShifinoâÂfor their sharp eyes and good judgment.
And more gratitude than I can adequately express to Amanda Urban and to Randy.
Â
T
HOMAS
C
OBB
is the author of
Crazy Heart
, which was made into the Academy Awardâwinning film starring Jeff Bridges. He is also the author of the novels
With Blood in Their Eyes
and
Shavetail
, both of which won Western Writers of America Spur Awards. He grew up in Arizona and currently lives in Rhode Island with his wife.
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Cover design by Amanda Kain
Cover photographs: © by Twenty20/Corbis (road); © by Jeff Corwin/Getty Images (snow)
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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DARKNESS THE COLOR OF SNOW.
Copyright © 2015 by Thomas Cobb. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
ISBN: 978-0-06-239124-7
EPub Edition AUGUST 2015 ISBN 9780062391278
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