Jacob's Ladder (16 page)

“This one is a river.” He pointed out three wavy lines. “And this one is the sign for death.” Sheriff Montgomery showed Rose the one that was a darkened square.

She nodded. She had found that one in the book at the library.

“I think this one has to do with talking to spirits, and if I remember my petroglyphs,” he said, holding the jewelry very close to his eyes, “this one stands for evil.”

Rose noticed the one he was referring to. It was a circle, half darkened, half decorated with small dots. She hadn't known that one, either. She knew the symbol for the kiva and the one for the sun.

Sheriff Montgomery was still studying the bracelet when the man from the other booth, the one who had been sitting on the side facing Rose, walked by them. He glimpsed down and Rose saw that he noticed the jewelry that the sheriff was handling.

The man headed in the direction of the rest rooms. Rose felt a strange sensation when he passed her, as if she had seen him before. She suddenly became anxious.

“Let's go home,” she said to Sheriff Montgomery, getting up from her seat. Since she had already been wrong about so many things, she didn't want to say anything about her suspicion of the man. She also, however, didn't want to hang around.

“Okay, but I need to use the facilities,” he replied, placing the bracelet back in his pocket.

Rose sat down again, trying to tell herself that she was just being oversensitive. She watched as the sheriff went to the rest room, following the man who had just walked by.

She waited a few minutes, growing more and more nervous, wondering what was happening in the men's rest room. Finally, just before she was about to go and knock on the door where she knew they both were, the sheriff returned.

“Okay, to West Memphis,” he said, patting himself on the belly and walking toward the register to pay the bill.

Rose peered behind them in the direction from which the sheriff had come. There was no one following him, and when she turned back to the booth where the two men had been sitting, it was completely empty.

After the sheriff paid the bill, she followed him out the door and got into the car.

EIGHTEEN

“I heard about your ex-husband,” Sheriff Montgomery said as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Rose was searching all around, trying to find the two men who had come into the diner after they had. There was no sign of them anywhere. They weren't in the parking lot or anywhere on the road. She knew she would recognize only the one who had walked past them, and even then, she wasn't completely sure she'd gotten a good look at him.

“How did you find out about that?” she asked, wondering how the story about her ex-husband's visit had gotten around town so fast.

“Mary,” he said.

He made the turn down the ramp, heading east on the interstate. He merged into the right lane.

“I called the campground office before I left this morning. I thought they might be worried about you when you didn't show up for work.”

Rose nodded. She was glad that he had thought of that. She knew that they would have been concerned when she didn't appear at the office for her shift. They would have searched her camper, bothered all the guests about her whereabouts. She considered the sheriff's action to be a very generous one.

“She said that you were pretty upset about him coming to find you.” He turned to peer at Rose, as if he was searching for something.

She didn't really understand what he was getting at.

“Yeah, well, it was a shock,” she replied, remembering how unsettled she had been only twenty-four hours earlier. She had forgotten all that had happened at Shady Grove once she had been hijacked to Oklahoma.

Then once she answered with those words, she recognized the sheriff's line of questioning. “So, you think that's it?” she asked, surprised and angry that he had made such assumptions about her, especially after the confession she had given at the diner. “You think I was upset because Rip showed up? You think I was somehow distraught in such a way that I waited until midnight and then stole a dead man's camper?”

The sheriff drove along carefully in the traffic. He started to excuse his behavior and then admitted she was right.

“Yes, once we left Henryetta, at first,” he replied. “When there was no evidence of anybody at the motel, yes, that's what I thought.”

Rose turned away. She suddenly regretted having given him the bracelet.

“But I don't think that now,” he said, trying to soothe things between them. “I think you're telling the truth,” he added, his voice somewhat apologetic.

Rose hesitated before speaking. She realized he was trying to make amends. And yet, n spite of his intentions, she wasn't quite ready to forgive him.

The interstate was getting more crowded with cars. It was growing late, and as they got closer to the state capital, it was obvious that lots of people were going home from work. She watched the cars pass, thinking about where they would be returning. She wondered how many of them were happy to be going home and how many of them were dissatisfied with their lives.

“What did he want?” the sheriff asked. “I mean, if you don't mind me asking,” he added.

Rose remembered the conversation with Rip. She didn't really have any reason not to tell anybody, although she realized she hadn't mentioned their conversation to Mary or Ms. Lou Ellen after he left. Once she thought about it, she figured the lawman would find out anyway. “He came to tell me my father is dying and that I should go home to see him.”

The sheriff didn't respond. It was clearly a more intimate subject than he'd expected. He suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

“You have any children?” she asked. Now that she had been pressured to share all of her secrets with the sheriff, she felt like talking, and since he was asking personal questions, she thought she was entitled, as well. She was, after all, curious about the sheriff from West Memphis, Arkansas.

He shook his head and turned to look out his window.

“I was married once,” he said.

“Yeah? She get tired of your line of work and leave you for a banker?” She meant it to be funny.

“No. Actually, he was a traveling salesman,” the sheriff responded, leaving Rose feeling slightly embarrassed. “I guess she liked what he was selling,” he added, not appearing angry about her implication.

“I'm sorry,” Rose said. “I didn't know,” she added, trying to make up for her insensitive remark.

“It's okay,” he replied. “It was a long time ago.” He turned to Rose, who was facing him. “I wasn't a great husband,” he confessed. “I had it coming.”

Rose didn't know what else to say. Now she was the one who was suddenly uncomfortable with her questions and his answers.

“So, you got divorced?” he asked.

Rose nodded. “Yep, he wasn't such a great husband, either,” she noted. “And I didn't leave for a traveling salesman; he left me.”

They drove along in traffic.

“But it's for the best,” she continued. “The truth is, we weren't really a good match.” She thought about what she was saying. “It's funny what you think will make you happy when you're young, what you think you've got to have.”

The sheriff appeared to consider what Rose was saying. He smiled and nodded.

“I married Rip to get away from my father,” Rose explained. “That and the fact that I thought nobody else would ever ask me.”

“I guess most people get married for a few wrong reasons,” he said as he wove in and out of the cars around them. “Fear, selfishness, boredom. But in the end, you just hope the right reason will win out.”

Rose thought about this, remembering how she had felt when she got married, how glad she was to be on her own, starting her own family, disconnecting herself from the one she had been raised in. She thought about Rip, how good-looking he was, how fortunate she'd felt at the time that he had picked her. She knew she had married him for some desperate reasons, but she also knew that she loved him. Even though she hadn't really known what it meant at the time, she understood, years later, that in the only way she knew how, she loved him.

“You never married again?” she asked, feeling a bit relieved of the anger and disappointment she had felt earlier in the drive.

The sheriff shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “I'm way too ornery now. Too much negotiating in a marriage. I'm afraid I lost those skills when I picked this line of duty.”

Rose laughed.

“You, on the other hand, seemed to have recovered,” he observed. “What's the status with you and Mr. Sawyer these days?”

“You're a little more than nosy, don't you think?” she said, only teasing. “It's uncomplicated. And for now, that's more than enough.”

The sheriff nodded as if he understood.

They drove a bit farther without conversation, both of them glad for what had emerged between them. Rose realized that she hadn't been completely fair with him, that once given the opportunity, the sheriff of West Memphis was actually a decent guy.

They headed out of Little Rock and the evening commute and drove eastward into Prairie County. The sun was low in the sky and the sheriff reached up and turned up the heat.

“Did you get in trouble with the FBI?” Rose asked, grateful for the warmth. She remembered the phone call Mary had received. She also remembered that the agent was supposed to have come by the campground earlier that day.

“Why would I be in trouble with the FBI?” he asked.

“The guy who called said he was going to inspect the camper this morning. He called Shady Grove to tell Mary.”

“I don't know anything about the Bureau being involved in this,” he said.

Rose noticed that Sheriff Montgomery kept watching out his rearview mirror. She turned around in her seat to see behind the car.

“What's wrong?” she asked, not noticing anything peculiar. There were a few cars traveling behind them.

“Nothing,” the sheriff said, still glancing in the mirror.

Rose turned around again. This time, she saw a car speed up behind them as if it were going to pass and then fall away once the sheriff slowed down.

“They've been back there since Russellville,” he said, realizing that Rose now saw the car. “Maybe just coincidence,” he added.

Rose remembered the two men in the booth. “Was there a man in the rest room at the diner?” she asked, now feeling comfortable sharing her concerns.

The sheriff seemed to think about the question. “I didn't see anybody,” he said. “But that doesn't mean there wasn't somebody in one of the stalls,” he added, remembering a closed door. “Why, did you see something?”

“Well, a guy walked past us and went in there before you did. He saw the bracelet.” Rose turned around again to look at the cars behind them. The one she had seen before was now pulling up beside them. Just as it was about to slow up and pull behind the patrol car as it had done earlier, Sheriff Montgomery took his foot off of the accelerator and the car went past.

Rose noticed right away that there were two men in the front seat, that it was an old sedan, and that the plates were from New Mexico. Just as they drove past, the car moved into the right lane, in front of Sheriff Montgomery, and the driver quickly stepped on the brakes.

The patrol car swerved onto the right shoulder, barely missing the car that had been following them, the one that had jumped in front and stopped.

Sheriff Montgomery slid to an abrupt stop, the front of the car landing in a ditch, the frame now bent and smashed against the tire. He yelled at Rose to get down, then jumped out of the driver's side, his gun raised, aimed, and ready to fire.

NINETEEN

“Get out of the car with your hands up!” the sheriff yelled.

Rose was down on the floor of the front seat, her arms over her head. She waited for gunfire or some kind of commotion to begin outside. She felt around her head and neck, touching herself just to make sure everything was still intact. She had been thrown against the door when the sheriff swerved, slamming her head against the window. When she reached up, she felt a bit of blood trickling down her forehead.

She turned to her left and saw Sheriff Montgomery squatting behind the open door on the driver's side. Rose quickly noticed that he had his gun pulled and aimed around his door at the car in front of them. She couldn't see what else was happening.

In only a few seconds, however, the sheriff stood up and began walking away from the car. Since no bullets had been fired, she assumed the men in the car were obeying his command. She remained in her protected position. More time passed. She couldn't hear what was going on outside the car.

Finally, after more than a few minutes, Rose became unable to control her curiosity. She carefully lifted herself up and peeked over the dashboard of the car. When she did, she saw the sheriff checking the identification of both the driver and his passenger, his gun still pointed in their direction.

Both men were out of the car, arms held high, fingers interlocked and resting behind their heads. They were facing away from Sheriff Montgomery, legs spread, leaning against the front of their car. Rose opened the door and emerged from her place on the floor. The sheriff turned to her quickly.

“Stay in there,” he instructed her, in a commanding tone. He noticed the blood on her face right away.

She quickly returned to her seat, watching the interaction between Sheriff Montgomery and the older of the two men. He had turned his head around, his eyes facing to the side, and appeared to be answering the lawman's questions. The young one was quietly leaning against the car. Rose could see his right leg was shaking.

She opened the glove compartment and found a couple of napkins and began to apply pressure to her head wound. She felt a slight ache just above her eyes; but even as she wiped away the blood, she continued to watch what was going on in front of her.