Dream With Little Angels (15 page)

“He managed to get out alive, though. The real miracle was Jesse. How he lived, nobody will ever know. He slept in the basement, just one room away from where the whole thing started.”

“Good thing he did survive,” Dewey said. “At least there's two of them left now. Be awfully lonely otherwise.”

I was about to get mad at him for saying something so insensitive when I saw that his words had touched Mr. Garner. “That's true,” Mr. Garner said. “Hadn't looked at it that way, son. I guess we have to be thankful for what we have, not regretful for what we've lost.”

I thought I'd be pretty regretful if I lost my mother, father, and grandma all in one night. Wouldn't matter whether I still had a grandpa or not. I kept this to myself though, hoping our conversation might turn to something happier. I'd had enough sadness the past few weeks to last me the rest of my life.

“So,” Dewey said, oblivious, “how much longer until you get this ol' shed done, anyway?” I didn't think Dewey could be sad if you killed Bambi's mom right in front of him. Dewey didn't seem to have the capacity to be sad.

Mr. Garner wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Oh, I should be able to get the roof finished tonight, I hope.” He looked up at the dark, pregnant clouds hanging low overhead. “Looks like rain, and I really want to get it covered before any rain. After that, there's just a bit of trim and some paint. It's pretty much there.” He went back to working on that fifth rafter while we watched.

“What about the door?” Dewey asked.

“No point in puttin' on a door if there ain't no roof,” Mr. Garner said. “The raccoons'll just climb up over top.”

“Looks nice,” I said.

“Thank you, Abe.”

We talked a bit more, but I realized the day was darkening and checked my new watch. “I really need to get goin',” I told Dewey. “I promised my mom we'd be home in twenty-seven minutes.”

“That's a nice watch,” Mr. Garner said. “It new?” He finished rafter number six. I'd reckon, given my new judge of time, that it had taken just over four minutes for him to complete it.

I beamed, proudly displaying the timepiece strapped to the back of my wrist. “Yep,” I said. “My Uncle Henry bought it for me. Gave it to me earlier today.”

Mr. Garner smiled. “That certainly is a nice watch you got there. And it's very responsible of you to listen to your mama, Abe. Makes you a good person.”

I nodded and again I thought about Carry and how
I
was able to tell her the way she should act and actually
change
her. She was still full of anger and all that, but she sure seemed better since our talk. “Well,” I said, “we best be going.”

We said good-bye and headed back home, this time going around the other way, completely avoiding Ruby Mae's willow.

I checked my watch as we turned onto Cottonwood Lane. The small area of brightness in the darkening sky was still high enough that I knew we were okay. It turned out we were still inside of our hour and a half. Barely. That made me happy. In some ways, I felt almost obligated to make up all the extra time Carry had stayed late in Satsuma that night.

Dewey waved good-bye and kept on riding down the sidewalk to his own house while I coasted up my driveway, dumping my bike beside the garage before walking across to the front steps. I was whistling when I came through the door. Not any specific song, just whistling. Something about what Mr. Garner said about being grateful for what we have instead of regretting what we didn't struck some sort of chord with me. Well, I guess technically Dewey had said it, but I hadn't noticed until Mr. Garner rephrased it. Dewey hadn't, either. I refused to give Dewey any credit for saying something he didn't mean to say in the first place. Either way though, it had left me feeling more peaceful than I had in a while.

That peace was about to be broken as my mother came rushing out of the kitchen to meet me.

“Thank God you're home,” she said.

“What?” I asked. I even smiled. “I'm
early,
reckonin' by my brand-new watch, and Uncle Henry said this here watch tells the time better than those super atomic clocks they got up there in outer space.”

But something in her face made me stop talking and stop smiling. And then I found out why.

It was Mary Ann Dailey.

She'd shown back up.

“W
here is she?” I asked excitedly as my mother strapped on her boots. She was already in uniform. Uncle Henry was standing in the doorway, seeing her off.

“Abe,” she said, “I can't talk right now. I gotta get goin'.”

“Is she all right?”

My mother purposely avoided looking at me after I posed that question, so I cast a glance to Uncle Henry. By the solemn, slow shake of his head, I knew immediately Mary Ann Dailey was
not
all right.

“Is she alive?” I looked to my mother and then to Uncle Henry. They both quickly looked at each other and then looked away. My mother put on her jacket and went for the door. “Tell me,” I said. “Please? Is she alive?”

“No, Abe,” Uncle Henry said quietly. “She's dead.”

“Who found her?”

“Robert Garner,” he said.

“Mr. Robert Lee Garner?” I asked. “Holly Berry Ranch Mr. Garner?”

“Yes, Abe. How many other Mr. Garners do you know?”

My mother was out the door, about to close it, when I shouted, “Wait!”

She paused, staring at me. “Abe, I really have to go.” She was obviously very upset. Her fingers trembled.

“But . . .” I tried to think this all through as quickly as I could. Dewey and me . . . we'd . . . “I just saw Mr. Garner,” I said. “Couldn't been not more than thirty minutes ago. Maybe even less.
Probably
even less.”

Confusion swept across my mother's face. “What? What are you talkin' about? Where did you see Mr. Garner?”

“At his ranch. That's where me and Dewey rode our bikes to.”

“Why?”

I couldn't answer this one, because the God's honest truth was neither me nor Dewey had any clue what brought us there. “I don't know,” I said. “We went to look at the willow where he found Ruby Mae Vickers.”

Tears filled my mother's eyes.

“What?” I asked.

She turned away. Uncle Henry's hand came down on my shoulder. “They found Mary Ann Dailey at the same place,” he said in my ear.

“But . . . that's impossible. We was just there. There wasn't no girl's body anywhere. Just that willow and Mr. Garner hammering away on his tool shed.”

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, my mother said, “Okay, Abe, that's fine. I really have to go now.” She tried to push the door closed, but I blocked it with my foot.

“You have to bring me with you,” I said.

“No, Abe. You can't come to a murder scene. I'm sorry.”

“But, Mom, I'm tellin' you, we was just there. Not even fifteen minutes ago. That makes me a witness, don't it? Doesn't that mean you have to bring me?”

“No,” she said sternly.

“I'm coming,” I said. I don't know what inside me wanted so badly to see the dead body of Mary Ann Dailey, but something sure as heck did.

“No, and that's final.”

“I'm a witness. I'm coming.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Then, from behind me, Uncle Henry's quiet voice said, “Leah?”

Her eyes flickered up to his face.

“Maybe . . . maybe you should take him.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“Think about it, Leah. If he really was there fifteen or twenty minutes ago, he very well may be your only witness. Take him. If it was anybody else, you wouldn't hesitate.”

“I most certainly would. If they was eleven years old. Hank, this is a murder scene.”

“He needs to go. Can't you tell?”

She looked at me and, for the first time in a long time, I felt my mother actually see me for who I really was. I wasn't the same person I had been the last time it happened.

With a sigh, she said, “We could be out there for hours.”

“That's fine,” I said.

She heaved a deep breath. “Okay, get in the car.” Her eyes once again locked with Uncle Henry's as she closed the door.

I felt the first drops of rain hit the top of my head as I made my way into the passenger seat. My mother got in behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition. She paused before turning it, looking at me. “You sure about this?”

I nodded. “I am, Mom. Seriously.”

“All right, then. I need you to obey me completely throughout this entire procedure, you understand me? This is vitally important, Abe. It's very easy to contaminate a murder scene. Even officers who've been in the force a long time make mistakes during these kinds of things. I don't need you mucking anything up.”

“I understand,” I said.

“Okay.” She pulled out onto Cottonwood Lane and picked up her heavy car phone. “Here, dial the station for me,” she said, handing it over to me. “It's speed dial number one. Give me back the phone when Chris answers. Don't say anything to him.”

“Okay,” I said, and did as she requested, handing her back the phone the second I heard Mr. Jackson pick up the line at his end.

At first, I guessed she was using the phone instead of her radio so that I didn't hear the entire conversation. As she spoke, I reconsidered. I think she chose the phone because it felt more private. And somehow possibly more safe.

“Chris, it's Leah. Bad news. The Dailey girl turned up dead. Guess who found her? Bob Garner. Nearly the exact same place he found Ruby Mae. Nearly the same condition too, from what he described on the phone.” I heard her choking back tears as she spoke. The longer she went, the more obvious it was. “I need you to meet me at the Holly Berry Ranch immediately. I am en route now.” A tear rolled down her cheek as she handed me back the phone.

“Hang this up for me, honey,” she said, and wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

I did as she asked. Under her breath, I heard her talking to herself. “He said it was just like Ruby Mae all over again. Oh, God, I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't.” Her hand reached up and grabbed the Virgin Mother hanging around her neck. She began twisting it in her fingers. “I can't go through this again.”

She hadn't realized she'd been speaking out loud until I reached over and touched her arm. “Yes, you can, Mom. Twelve years ago you were still pretty much a kid. You're not anymore. You can do this. I know you can. I have faith in you.”

She looked straight at me for a second, her eyes completely red and full of tears. “Oh, Abe,” she said and then they all just started flowing.

“Right now, Mom, you need to pull yourself together. You can cry 'bout it later, but I don't reckon this is the way a detective should show up at a murder scene, do you?”

“No,” she said, wiping her face dry and riveting her courage, “you're right. You're absolutely right. When did you get so smart?”

“I've been gettin' smart all along, you just didn't really notice it happenin'. 'Course I learned it all from you.”

She forced a tearful smile, reached over, and squeezed my hand.

B
y the time we pulled into Holly Berry Ranch, my mother had fully regained her composure. She got out of the car and put on her hat. My hand was going for my door handle when she said, “You stay here, you understand? If I need you, I'll come get you.”

I began to object, but she cut me off. “You told me you'd listen and obey me, Abe. Don't disappoint me now.”

I stopped objecting and resigned myself to being stuck in the car.

My mother went around to the trunk and pulled out her hip waders and rain gear. I had no idea why she needed them waders unless she planned on walking through Skeeter Swamp and, in my opinion, nobody in their right mind would ever walk through Skeeter Swamp. Of course, lately my mother hadn't been in her right mind so much, so I wouldn't put anything past her.

She carried the hip waders over to where Mr. Robert Lee Garner waited, leaning against a pine tree, smoking one of his cigars. He was still wearing the Panther cap and the rain jacket, which was now coming in handy, as the small drizzle that had started when we left my house had now turned into real rain.

I waited until my mother was a good fifty yards away before rolling down my window and reaching across the center console to roll down hers. She said I had to stay in the car. She didn't say I couldn't listen.

It wasn't easy to hear them though, not with them being a good hundred yards away and the rain coming down on the swamp and leaves and all. I strained and did the best I could. According to what little I did make out, Mr. Garner found Mary Ann's body in nearly the exact same spot and position he had found Ruby Mae's in twelve years ago.

My mother looked over her shoulder toward the willow across the river and swamp. By the look on her face, I could tell she could see enough even from that far away to disturb her. I leaned as far forward as I could and tried to see the base of that willow tree, but the best I got was the edge of the leaves overhanging the stone bridge.

“Her body's in nearly the same shape Ruby Mae's was,” Mr. Garner said. I had no idea what that meant, or what he was referring to when he clarified by saying she was “well used” before she was killed.

Off in the distance, I heard a siren coming closer. No doubt, it was Officer Jackson. I saw relief flood over my mother when she heard the same sound. It was obvious to me that she didn't want to be the one to have to go look at Mary Ann Dailey. Instead, she stalled for time by asking Mr. Garner some standard questions.

He told her he had just finished working on his tool shed for the night and gone in for a beer when Dixie started barking like some kind of crazy wolfhound. I knew what he meant. She had barked the same way when Dewey and me showed up here less than a half hour ago. He said he came outside to see what had her in such a state, expecting to find a raccoon or maybe a coyote, but there was nothing nowhere. That's when he got suspicious and went back for his rifle and did a more thorough examination of his immediate property.

And that's when he found Mary Ann Dailey.

Across the way, I could see Mr. Garner's tool shed. He had indeed managed to get the roof on in time for the rain, it appeared. There were no shingles yet, but all the rafters must've gone up because he now had it covered with plywood and tar paper. It actually looked like a proper roof.

Officer Jackson pulled up beside me and brought his car to a stop. The siren quieted, but the red and blue lights continued flashing, bouncing off the trees and Mr. Garner's tool shed. Officer Jackson got out of his car, put on his hat, and cast a questioning look at me through my open window.

“I'm a witness,” I said, but he ignored me and continued on to where my mother and Mr. Garner were standing.

That's when I realized I was still holding my mother's car phone in my lap. I stared at it well over a full minute, trying to decide whether or not what I was considering doing fell under the caption of incredibly stupid or just slightly stupid. One thing was that I was pretty sure it had nothing at all to do with not upholding my integrity, and so far my mother's only order for me to obey was to stay in the car, so I wasn't breaking that rule at all.

I decided to execute my plan. With a careful glance out the windshield, which was blurred and slicked with rain, I made sure my mother was in no danger of witnessing what I was about to do. Then I took her phone and dialed Dewey's number.

His mother answered, but put him on when I asked her to.

“Why're you using your mother's car phone?” he asked.

“Now how did you know that?” I asked.

“You keep cutting out. It's terrible. Besides, isn't that property of the Alvin Police Department?”

“You don't care, so quit pretending,” I said. “Guess where I am.”

“That's easy. Your mom's car.”

I paused, thinking he was joking and realizing he wasn't. “Yeah, but guess where that is. You'll never guess.”

“Then I'm not gonna try. Why should I try if I never will?” he asked abruptly. “Just tell me right off.”

I sighed. “Fine.”

So I did. I told him everything. About how I came home and found out Mr. Robert Lee Garner had discovered the body of Mary Ann Dailey in the exact same place as he had found Ruby Mae's and how I convinced my mother into bringing me to the crime scene on account of I was a witness and all that.

“But you're stuck in the car?” he asked. I had told him that part, too.

“Yeah,” I said.

“So, what's the point of being a witness, then? I don't see how you can be witnessin' much from the car.”

I wanted to say something sarcastic, but I couldn't on account of him being absolutely right. Through the rain-smudged windshield, I saw Mr. Garner point toward the willow and watched Officer Jackson head in that direction. “I think Chris Jackson's goin' over to look at the body,” I whispered to Dewey into the phone.

“What's your mom doin'?” he asked.

“She's puttin' on her hip waders.”

“Now why in God's name would she be . . . she's not thinkin' of goin' into Skeeter Swamp, is she? She wouldn't be that crazy, would she?”

It occurred to me why she might consider doing just that. “I bet she's wonderin' if Tiffany Michelle Yates is somewhere in that swamp,” I said to Dewey. “I bet she's gonna go search it.”

“She'll get eaten by gators!” he screamed into the phone. “You gotta stop her!”

“I can't. She told me to stay in the car and obey her orders.” Outside the car, my mother slowly followed in nearly the same direction Officer Jackson had gone. Mr. Robert Lee Garner came along behind her. Sure enough, she started into Skeeter Swamp, one slow step at a time. “Jesus, I can't look. She's wadin' into the swamp,” I said.

Dewey tried to placate me. “She's got that gun, remember? She'll be fine.”

He was right, my mother did have her gun and it was out of its holster and in her hand, pointing up at the rain clouds as she cautiously went farther into the swamp with her elbow bent near on ninety degrees. Her gaze never left the surface of that stale, murky water. My heart began pounding in my throat and sweat tickled the back of my neck. I thought she must've been at least as scared as me, likely more so.

“You just be careful in there,” Mr. Garner called out to her. “That thing's full of gators. Even if the other girl had been thrown in, I doubt there'd be anything left of her by now. Those bastards are fast and they're hungry.”

I shivered, feeling a cold steel ice pick at the base of my spine as outside the car the rain hammered down harder than ever. It was as though the sky was beginning to open up.

“I'll be fine,” my mother called back, never once taking her eyes off that water.

Officer Jackson came back over the stone bridge. “I'm gonna grab the camera and the CSI kit,” he said to my mother. “I think I may be able to get a boot print. Hard to tell. I'll also try to get a proper forensics team as quick as possible. Hopefully there's somebody available in Mobile.”

“What do you think's gonna happen?” Dewey asked, but I shushed him.

“I'm tryin' to listen to 'em talkin',” I said.

“Think someone's gonna get shot?” he asked.

“Just be quiet a sec.”

“Okay,” I heard my mother say to Officer Jackson. Then, tentatively she added, “And once you've done that, I need you to bring Abe out of the car and show him the body. Get a sworn statement from him that it hadn't been there when he was here fifteen minutes before Bob called me.”

Officer Jackson stopped, nearly midstep. “You serious, Leah? You want me to show your boy . . . ?”

She sighed. “He's a witness, Chris. He wants to see it. He's offered to help. I think it'll be fine.”

“You're sure 'bout this?”

“I'm sure.”

“You're his mama.”

“That I am. That I am.” She took a few more steps before saying, “I don't think there's much to be gained by me wadin' through much more of this swamp. Like Bob said, if Tiffany Michelle's body got dumped in here, it's likely been digested, and frankly, I don't want to lose either of my legs.”

“I think that sounds reasonable,” Officer Jackson said, opening his trunk and removing the CSI kit and camera. My mother slowly made her way out of the swamp, coming up on the other side, and I breathed a sigh of relief as both her feet once again touched on solid ground. I'm sure she did the same.

“Dewey,” I said into the phone. “My mom's out of the swamp and I just heard her tell Officer Jackson that, once he's taken pictures and stuff, he's supposed to bring me out and show me the body. I gotta swear it wasn't there when we was here.”

“What about me?” he asked. “Don't I need to swear, too?”

“Dunno,” I said. “I guess they only need one witness for somethin' like this.”

It wasn't fifteen minutes later that Officer Jackson approached my mother's car. “I gotta go,” I said, and quickly hung up the phone.

“I'm supposed to show you the murder scene,” Officer Jackson said, bending so as he could talk to me through my open window. “You sure you're up for this? It's probably not entirely necessary.”

I nodded. “I'm okay.”

He shook his head. “All right.” He clicked open my door. I swung my legs out of the car and stood on the hard ground of Mr. Robert Lee Garner's ranch. The rain pelted me, but I was already half soaked on account of having my window wide open. I barely even noticed as I followed Officer Jackson toward that stone bridge. A mixture of emotions built up inside me as we drew closer, and I wasn't even sure what half of them were. I was excited, I was scared, I was sad, I was . . . I don't know what I was. I purposely didn't look at that willow as we walked. My eyes stayed locked on the back of Officer Jackson's boots until we were across the stone bridge and stopped at the base of the small hill that led up to the trunk of the willow tree.

“You sure you're okay?” Officer Jackson asked. I think he knew I hadn't looked away from the ground yet.

I nodded. “I think I'm fine,” I said. But really, I wasn't sure.

“Okay, then look up, Abe. There's Mary Ann Dailey.”

I don't know what I was expecting to see, but obviously it was something different than what lay before me, because near on immediately I felt what I could only assume was the first panic attack of my life trying to overtake me. With two deep breaths, I managed to fight it off as I looked at Mary Ann's dead body lying limp and lifeless, propped up against the trunk of that tree.

She was practically naked, and her skin had a blueish color to it. A cut ran all the way across the front of her throat, right below her chin. Her eyes were wide open, but there was no life behind them. That was the part that was hardest for me, seeing those eyes. You get so used to seeing eyes full of life that when you finally see dead ones, they aren't like anything you could ever have imagined.

The body was strewn across the rise of the roots, some of it partially buried in a shallow hole that obviously had been dug in a hurry. There was loose dirt on her skin and what little clothing she wore. I think it may have only been a large blue T-shirt full of shreds, but I could be mistaken. So much of the details blurred together in my head very quickly after seeing her. The hole was far too shallow to be of any use, and it made me wonder why anybody would even go to the trouble of digging it. It didn't nearly hide her from view from any possible angle. It was almost as though whoever placed her here just knew in the back of his head that the dead are supposed to be buried and it didn't matter how deeply, provided they were somewhat beneath the ground.

“Nearly exactly like I found Ruby Mae,” Mr. Garner said from behind me. His voice made me jump.

“Seen enough?” Officer Jackson asked me, resting his arm across my shoulders.

I nodded, but found it hard to look away from Mary Ann. It was those eyes. They had me gripped.

“Okay, then,” he said and gently turned me around. I noticed a shovel lying in the dirt between the small hill the tree stood on and the swamp as Officer Jackson guided me back to the car, where I sat on the seat while he squatted outside the open door and took my report, asking me things like what time approximately had I been at the Holly Berry Ranch and was I definitely sure there was no body under that tree and then he asked a whole bunch of questions about Mr. Garner. What he had been doing, what he had been wearing, what he talked about. Officer Jackson asked me more questions about Mr. Robert Lee Garner than anything else.