Page 142
Story: Never Flinch
“Killed in prison before the truth came out. The load of guilt I’ve been carrying since…”
He shakes his head as if this were actually true, but he no longer believes it is, or ever was. His mother used to say—before she wasgone—that popcorn is just an excuse to eat butter. He now believes that the guilt he hoped to load onto his fellow jurors was just an excuse to commit murder.
But she’s giving him a look like she understands. Of course that might be what he thinks of as the Celebrity Sincere Face. Most of them are good at it.
“I’ve decided to show mercy,” he says. “You and the young woman—Barbara—can walk away from this. There’s another pair of women who may not be so lucky. Or perhaps they will be. I haven’t decided.”
He’s decidedeverything.
“If you show your love for this Barbara by speaking to no one and then showing up at the place I’ll tell you—no matter how difficult getting out unseen may be—Iwilllet you go. That’s my promise to you. If youdon’tlove her enough to show up, you will still live, but she dies. Do you understand the choice I’m offering you?Ma’am?”
Betty nods.
Trig gets up from his chair. “I’m leaving now. You have a decision to make. Don’t you?”
Betty nods again.
“Make the right one,” Trig says, and leaves.
When he’s gone, Betty puts her hands over her face and begins to cry. When the tears let up she gets down on her knees, closes her eyes, and asks God what she should do. Either God speaks to her, or her secret heart does. Maybe those things are even the same. She makes a call and asks an old friend if he took the bus to the city.
“You know me, Bets. I don’t like to fly. I would have taken a Greyhound to England that time we went if I could’ve.”
“But that’s not the only reason you take the bus, is it, Red?”
4
4:20 PM.
Alberta Wing said time is tight, but Holly doesn’t know that; she thinks she has at least an hour before Kate will want to go to the Mingo, maybe even longer, so she and Pete spend some time catching up: her cases, his fishing exploits. He tells her again that she should come down to Boca Raton, and she tells him again that she will… and maybe this time she actually means it. God knows she could use some time to unwind once this current job is over.
Pete only has one coughing fit, very brief, so maybe he’s finally overcoming his case of long-haul Covid. When the coughing lets up, he says, “Great talking with you, Hols, but I doubt if you called just to bat the breeze.”
“I did have another reason, but I’m almost embarrassed to tell you. And it’s really Izzy’s case, not mine, but she’s got other priorities this weekend. At least she does tonight.”
“Yeah, the softball game. I keep up on all the hometown doins, especially the ones about the police. After what happened to Emil Crutchfield last year, I hope she beans one of those firemen. Is this about the Surrogate Juror thing? Almost has to be, right?”
“It is. I have reason to think the killer said something at an AA meeting about elephants.”
“Elephants.” Pete sounds bemused. “Packy-derms.”
“Right. What this guy supposedly said was, ‘Have you ever tried to hire someone to clean up elephant shit at ten in the morning.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
Silence.
“Pete? Are you there?”
“I’m here and it rings a bell. Just can’t catch hold of why.”
“I can relate to that,” Holly says.
“Can I call you back?”
Holly checks her watch. It’s going on quarter to five. Kate will be up by now, getting ready to roll. “Yes, but if it’s not in the next twenty or thirty minutes, my phone will be off until nine-thirty or so.”
“Working?”
“Working.”
He shakes his head as if this were actually true, but he no longer believes it is, or ever was. His mother used to say—before she wasgone—that popcorn is just an excuse to eat butter. He now believes that the guilt he hoped to load onto his fellow jurors was just an excuse to commit murder.
But she’s giving him a look like she understands. Of course that might be what he thinks of as the Celebrity Sincere Face. Most of them are good at it.
“I’ve decided to show mercy,” he says. “You and the young woman—Barbara—can walk away from this. There’s another pair of women who may not be so lucky. Or perhaps they will be. I haven’t decided.”
He’s decidedeverything.
“If you show your love for this Barbara by speaking to no one and then showing up at the place I’ll tell you—no matter how difficult getting out unseen may be—Iwilllet you go. That’s my promise to you. If youdon’tlove her enough to show up, you will still live, but she dies. Do you understand the choice I’m offering you?Ma’am?”
Betty nods.
Trig gets up from his chair. “I’m leaving now. You have a decision to make. Don’t you?”
Betty nods again.
“Make the right one,” Trig says, and leaves.
When he’s gone, Betty puts her hands over her face and begins to cry. When the tears let up she gets down on her knees, closes her eyes, and asks God what she should do. Either God speaks to her, or her secret heart does. Maybe those things are even the same. She makes a call and asks an old friend if he took the bus to the city.
“You know me, Bets. I don’t like to fly. I would have taken a Greyhound to England that time we went if I could’ve.”
“But that’s not the only reason you take the bus, is it, Red?”
4
4:20 PM.
Alberta Wing said time is tight, but Holly doesn’t know that; she thinks she has at least an hour before Kate will want to go to the Mingo, maybe even longer, so she and Pete spend some time catching up: her cases, his fishing exploits. He tells her again that she should come down to Boca Raton, and she tells him again that she will… and maybe this time she actually means it. God knows she could use some time to unwind once this current job is over.
Pete only has one coughing fit, very brief, so maybe he’s finally overcoming his case of long-haul Covid. When the coughing lets up, he says, “Great talking with you, Hols, but I doubt if you called just to bat the breeze.”
“I did have another reason, but I’m almost embarrassed to tell you. And it’s really Izzy’s case, not mine, but she’s got other priorities this weekend. At least she does tonight.”
“Yeah, the softball game. I keep up on all the hometown doins, especially the ones about the police. After what happened to Emil Crutchfield last year, I hope she beans one of those firemen. Is this about the Surrogate Juror thing? Almost has to be, right?”
“It is. I have reason to think the killer said something at an AA meeting about elephants.”
“Elephants.” Pete sounds bemused. “Packy-derms.”
“Right. What this guy supposedly said was, ‘Have you ever tried to hire someone to clean up elephant shit at ten in the morning.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
Silence.
“Pete? Are you there?”
“I’m here and it rings a bell. Just can’t catch hold of why.”
“I can relate to that,” Holly says.
“Can I call you back?”
Holly checks her watch. It’s going on quarter to five. Kate will be up by now, getting ready to roll. “Yes, but if it’s not in the next twenty or thirty minutes, my phone will be off until nine-thirty or so.”
“Working?”
“Working.”
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