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Authors: Sandra Brown

Tags: #Crime, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Mystery Fiction, #Psychological

Unspeakable (20 page)

BOOK: Unspeakable
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That much was true. Ezzy had read the arrest report for the crime, which, ironically, provided the Herbolds with an alibi for Patsy McCorkle. But he'd driven the same route the boys had taken that night. It was just over two hundred and fifty miles. Based on when they were seen leaving the bar, they could have taken Patsy to the river where they had sex with her and still made it to Arkadelphia well before seven-twenty. The time of Patsy's death, which Stroud had established, didn't conflict either.

"Cecil, everybody in that bar saw you and Carl with the girl. I heard the three of you created quite a spectacle, even for that dive. Now don't try and tell me that after all that fooling around, all that drinking and dancing and foreplay, you didn't have sex with her." Cecil's eyes darted about his cell. He glanced past Ezzy at the jail guard. He chewed his inner cheek. "Okay, okay. She, uh, got me off. With her hand. Under a table there at the Wagon Wheel." He ducked his head and smothered an aw-shucks laugh. "Damnedest thing I've ever done. All those people no more than a few feet away, and there's my dick, flapping around under the table. But that was Patsy. She'd do anything for laughs."

"And later?"

"Later?"

"What did you and Patsy do for laughs later?"

Cecil got nervous then and started gnawing on his thumbnail. "What did Carl say?"

"Carl said y'all parted ways outside the bar."

"Yeah, that's right," he said quickly. "We drove to Arkansas and realized we were hungry and since we didn't have any money we decided to hit that store."

"And wound up killing a cop."

"We didn't know he was a cop. Stupid asshole pulled a gun on us. What was Carl supposed to do? He had to protect us from getting killed, right, Sheriff? Sheriff?" But Ezzy had already turned his back on him and was on his way to talk to the county prosecutor handling the case. He was barrel-chested and red-headed. His florid cheeks looked like balloons about to burst. "Sorry, Sheriff, uh... what was it?"

"Hardge."

"Sheriff Hardge. I sympathize with your situation. I surely do. I know you'd like to close the books on your case down yonder. But if I submit these boys to that kind of testing to help clear your case, I'm liable to lose mine. At the very least it would give their lawyers a basis for appeal. They could scream violation of rights. You know defense lawyers these days. Bet they're as bad in Texas as they are here. They pull bullshit out their asses all the time, and felons go back on the streets. If I was to grant your favor, these boys might even get their trials dismissed altogether." He lit an unfiltered Camel and waved out the match. "Sorry. We got 'em first. They killed one of our own. We're gonna keep 'em guests of Arkansas for a long time."

"All I need is a semen specimen. From both of them. How's that going to violate their rights?" His laugh sounded like a band saw biting into a two-by-four. "Jacking off in a jar? Somebody asks me to do that, I'd consider it a violation of my rights."

CHAPTER TWENTY

"O
kay, but don't back up."

"I promise I won't."

"You'll stay right there?"

"Right here. Just remember to kick your legs real hard like you practiced." The water was no higher than David's waist. Even so, looking apprehensive about the four feet separating him from Jack, he took a huge breath and plunged forward. Several strong kicks later, his splashing hands made contact with Jack's. Jack pulled him up and helped him regain his footing on the cool silt bottom of the river.

"Way to go!" Jack gave the boy a high five.

"I did it!"

"I knew you could."

"Can I do it again?"

"Anytime you're ready."

David waded back to his starting place. "It was fun last night having ice cream, wasn't it, Jack?"

"Sure was."

"I wish you were with us all the time. You could sleep in my room."

"Don't you think it would be crowded with both of us?"

Skimming his hands across the surface of the water, David gave it some thought. His face brightened with a sudden inspiration. "You could sleep with my mom. She's got a great big bed." Jack hid his smile. "I don't think so."

"Why not, Jack? She probably wouldn't care."

"I just couldn't do that."

"How come?" the boy persisted.

"Because you're a family. You, your mom, and your grandpa. I'm not a member of the family."

"Yeah, but—"

"What's that?" Jack held up his hand for quiet. "Sounds like a triangle."

"Yeah, that thing." David made a circular motion with his closed fist as though waving a magic wand. "My mom's s'posed to use it in case of an emergency."

"An emergency?"

Jack grabbed David's hand and thrashed through the shallow water to shore. "Quick, put your shoes on. Get your clothes." Jack scrambled into his jeans and picked up his boots. The triangle had stopped clanging, but Anna wouldn't have used the emergency signal just for the hell of it. Taking David by the hand again, Jack ran through the woods toward the house. Dusk had fallen. They encountered clouds of mosquitoes but were moving too fast for them to light. Jack tripped over a vine and nearly dragged David down with him.

"How're you doing?" he called down when he regained his footing.

"I'm okay, Jack."

The heavy, humid air didn't make for easy running. By the time they reached the clearing, Jack was sucking hard to draw each breath. He paused and looked frantically toward the house. No smoke. A fire in either the house or the barn had been his first fear. The lack of rain had left everything as dry as tinder. One spark could have ignited a dangerous blaze. He was relieved not to see one, but something urgent had happened and he still didn't know what it was. Releasing David's hand, he sprinted the remaining distance to the house, where he clambered up the front steps and burst through the door. "Anna? Delray? Where are you? What's the matter?"

He glanced into the living room, but it was empty. As he came back around he ran squarely into Anna, nearly sent her sprawling, and only prevented it by catching her by the shoulders. "What's wrong?"

She pointed him upstairs.

Jack doubled back, rounded the balustrade, and took the treads two at a time. He reached the second floor in seconds. Delray was lying in the hall, steps from the door to his bedroom. Jack knelt down beside him. He was unconscious. Jack dug his fingers into his neck, feeling for his carotid. There was no pulse. "Shit. Don't die. Not now." Straddling Delray's hips, he began administering CPR. He heard Anna and David running down the hallway toward him.

"David?"

"What's wrong with Grandpa?" There were tears and anxiety in the boy's voice.

"Ask your mother if she called nine-one-one."

"She says she did, Jack."

Anna knelt down on the other side of Delray. Jack glanced at her. "You called?" She nodded.

"Good. Good," he said.

Because if help didn't arrive soon, Delray wasn't going to make it.

***

The doctor was typically guarded. He walked a thin line between glossing over the seriousness of Delray's condition and unnecessarily alarming those who cared about him.

"The preliminary tests show several blockages, any one of which would be serious by itself. His blood pressure is at a critical level. Our first order of business is to bring it down and get him stabilized."

His diagnosis was translated to Anna through an interpreter. Her name was Marjorie Baker. Both of her parents had been deaf, so sign had been her first language. She was a certified level-five translator and a deaf educator. That's how she knew Anna. She had worked with her throughout her schooling, then later became her friend.

Beyond her administrative duties in the public schools, Marjorie Baker was an advocate for the deaf in the rural communities of East Texas. Unlike hospitals in larger cities, this one didn't yet have a Teletype system for the hearing-impaired to use. Consequently, Ms. Baker had been called immediately after Delray was admitted. She had arrived calm and concerned. Jack liked her instantly.

"After his blood pressure is under control and he's stabilized, then what?" she asked, translating the question Anna had signed.

To his credit, the doctor spoke directly to Anna. "Then bypass surgery is called for. Alternatives to surgery, like angioplasty or putting in a stint, are no longer options, I'm afraid. The blockages are too severe."

"Can you do it here?" Marjorie asked.

"The operation?" When Anna nodded yes, he replied, "No, ma'am. I'm a cardiologist, not a cardiac surgeon. I can refer you to several excellent surgeons in either Houston or Dallas. Whoever you select, we'll bring him up to speed on Mr. Corbett's condition and see that he gets all his films, et cetera. It's done all the time. We make the transfer as easy on you as possible."

"Don't worry about any inconvenience to me," Marjorie said, speaking as Anna signed. "I want what's best for my father-in-law."

"Of course," the doctor said.

"Is Grandpa gonna get well, Jack?"

"That's what we're working on."

Ashamed of his tears, David turned toward him and pressed his face against Jack's thigh. "Can you give them any idea of what his chances are?" Jack asked the doctor.

"It's too soon to tell. Honestly," the doctor added when he read the skepticism in Anna's eyes.

"Right now, his condition is critical. I won't lie to you and say otherwise. He's in cardiac intensive care. We'll monitor him carefully throughout the night. By morning I should be able to give you a more definite prognosis."

"What about flying him by helicopter to Houston or Dallas tonight?" Marjorie asked the question, but received an enthusiastic nod from Anna for thinking of it.

"In his present condition, that would be risky," the doctor replied. "If it were my father I wouldn't chance it. I'd wait until he had more working in his favor before I moved him." He gave Anna a sympathetic smile and laid one hand on her shoulder. "I realize everything I'm telling you is not what you want to hear. For right now it's the best I can do."

Before returning to his duties, he told Anna that a nurse would let her know when she could see Delray. The promised visit came a half hour later. Anna rushed from the waiting room, following the nurse who had summoned her. Marjorie went with her. Jack stayed behind with David.

"Why can't I go see Grandpa?" he whined.

"Because an intensive care unit is for people who are very sick. It's no place for a little boy."

"How come?"

"You might make noise and disturb the patients."

"I wouldn't make noise."

"Want me to read you a story?" Jack hopefully held up a book.

"That's a dumb book. It hasn't even got any pictures."

The boy wouldn't be distracted. Jack was relieved when Anna rejoined them about ten minutes later. She looked pale and shaken, but smiled for David's benefit and told him that his grandpa was taking a good nap.

"I want to see Grandpa." The boy's lower lip began to quiver.

"He has tubes in his nose and arms, David," Marjorie Baker told him.

"Like the doctor shows on TV?"

"Yes, but it's different in real life. You wouldn't like seeing your grandpa like that, and he wouldn't want you to see him that way. Besides, if you woke him up, it wouldn't be good for him."

Jack addressed Anna. "Do you want me to take him home?"

"No!" David wailed. "I want to stay here with Grandpa." He began to cry and Anna pulled him onto her lap. She pressed his head against her chest and stroked his forehead, pushing back his hair, which was still damp with river water, Jack noticed. She kissed his brow and hugged him tightly, rocking him back and forth. In a moment his sobs subsided but he still clung to his mother.

"I guess he's staying," Marjorie said, smiling up at Jack. "In all the excitement we haven't been officially introduced. I know your name is Jack."

"Sawyer," he told her, shaking hands. "Thanks for coming. I'm sure Anna is glad you're here."

"She was glad you were there this evening when it happened."

"Yeah, well, I'm glad I could help out."

Marjorie gave him a measured look before she sat down beside Anna and commenced a signed conversation. An hour later, Anna was granted another five-minute visit to the CCU. Delray's condition was unchanged.

The hospital staff urged her to go home for the remainder of the night, but she wouldn't even consider it. It was almost a half-hour drive from the hospital to the ranch. They might get there only to be called back. Delray could take a sudden turn for the better—or the worse. Either way, she wanted to be nearby.

Marjorie offered to stay also, but Anna insisted that she leave. "Only if you promise to page me if the situation changes." Anna made the requested promise.

Jack didn't know what was expected of him. Should he go or stay? Did she want him with her or did she wish he would get lost? Feeling awkward and conspicuous, he sat down on a sofa that formed a right angle with the one Anna and David occupied. He chose a bass fishing magazine from the unappealing and outdated selection of reading material on an end table. At midnight the overhead fluorescent lights were turned out and substituted with dim table lamps, making the room more conducive to sleep. Only one other family, an older couple, was in the waiting room. The man was stretched out in a recliner. An occasional snore wafted from his open mouth. The woman, presumably his wife, had cried herself to sleep on a sofa. Jack wondered what medical crisis was keeping them here tonight.

BOOK: Unspeakable
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