J Stanley - The Battered Body

“Take Milla home, Pop. I’ll take care of everything here.”

With his parents gone, James relaxed a little. Lucy had thoughtfully waited for them to drive off before helping Wheezie into her coat and leading her by the arm to the Jeep. Anyone observing the two of them would simply believe Lucy was kindly chauffeuring an old and rather inebriated woman back to her hotel. In fact, most of the guests left the party without having the slightest clue that something other than the celebration of wedding nuptials had occurred.

“Is there anything we can do?” Lindy asked James once all the guests were gone. “The twins left to look after Lottie, and we can take down the decorations tomorrow…”

“You should all get some rest.” James embraced Lindy and Gillian and slapped Bennett on the back. “I’ll go down to the station because Wheezie confessed to me, and if she’s gone quiet all of a sudden, I’ll be able to fill them in on how she and Russ DuPont killed Paulette and Chase.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “Besides, I think I’ll bring Chloe to my parent’s house to sleep. My old room still has a bed in it and she might not want to be alone tonight.”

“The poor girl must have been terrified!” Gillian exclaimed. “She’ll need to be completely cleansed of this experience. Perhaps I should drop by early in the morning with some incense and tea.”

“Pop wouldn’t let you in bearing those items,” James said with a smile, and he then felt a wave of affection for his friends sweep over him. “Before you all go, I want to say thank you. Not just for throwing this party, but for always being there for me. You’re the best friends a guy could have.”

Lindy’s eyes grew wet with tears. “And this is what friends do, James! We support each other, protect one another, and stick together no matter what.” She put her arm around his waist. “This investigation’s had an ugly ending, but we’ll get through it. If you or Milla or Chloe need anything, remember that we’re just a phone call away.”

On their way out the door, James saw Gillian walk over and lay a hand on the cold glass of the stained window depicting a lion and a lamb. The animals were resting on their bellies with their heads bent toward one another.

“What a tragedy,” he heard her say. “Revenge could never have brought them peace. Only forgiveness can do that. And now the ripples of violence have spread out across the surface of our little pond.”

“Woman, there ain’t gonna be no more ripples,” Bennett declared firmly. “What there’s gonna be is more snow. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Home is all James wanted too. The only furniture he could afford in his new bedroom was a bed and a single nightstand, but he had slept soundly for the past two nights and would like nothing more than to crawl between his soft sheets and roll himself like an enchilada inside his down comforter. Instead, he took the stuffed trash bags out of the kitchen and placed them in cans outside the back door, turned the lights off, and headed to the jail.

Deputy Glenn Truett directed him to a small office, recorded his statement, and gave him a few papers to sign. Knowing that James would ask, Glenn told him that Lucy, Donovan, and Huckabee were busy interviewing Wheezie and Russ DuPont.

“I’ve never even seen this guy,” James muttered darkly as he handed Glenn the forms. “That makes everything that’s happened to us since before Christmas feel unresolved. I mean, Russ DuPont’s murdered two members of Milla’s family, yet he’s still a total stranger to me. To all of us.”

Glenn stood and escorted James toward the station’s front door. “You’re not gonna see him now either.” His mouth formed a conspiratorial smile. “I will tell you that he’s a nasty piece of work. He’s back there rantin’ away with Donovan and Huckabee. Shoutin’ and carryin’ on somethin’ fierce.” He opened the door for James and gestured for him to leave. “So you can see him all you want at the trial, though it’s gonna be a short one. Twelve kindergartners could pronounce that boy guilty in about five minutes.”

“And Wheezie?” James couldn’t help himself, but he hated to think of the old woman lying in a jail cell, her body aching and her mind addled.

“I imagine she’ll be in some kind of hospital by tomorrow. She ain’t well, and we can’t give her any of the drugs she says she needs.” Glenn held out his hand, allowing a cluster of snowflakes to fall like confetti on his palm. “It’s right hard to see the state the old lady’s in, but if you take up a sword against justice, you gotta pay the price.”

Eyeing Glenn with interest, James also reached out into the snow. “I’d like to take Chloe to my parents’ house. Can’t I at least wait for her?”

Glenn shook his head. “She’s gonna be a while, but I’ll run her over there myself. You have my word on that. Goodnight, Professor.”

James drove home through empty, slick streets. His body was beyond tired and it felt good to slip off his clothes and put on a pair of flannel pajamas, but his mind was too unsettled for sleep. Knowing what Gillian would recommend, he boiled some water and, after fixing himself a cup of chamomile tea, sat down at the kitchen table. He turned off all the lights and sipped his tea while gazing out the window at the snow.

“Tomorrow, everything will look fresh again,” he whispered, knowing that the picturesque scene he and his friends and family would wake to might serve as a slight restorative, but the days and weeks ahead would be filled with pushy reporters, questioning neighbors, and court dates.

Normally, James would have trudged to bed feeling gloomy at the thought of such challenges, but the clouds on the horizon were silver-lined. Milla would hurt, but she had Jackson to comfort her. Lindy had Luis, and Bennett, Gillian. Lucy claimed to be completely fulfilled by her job and if that were truly the case, then her February would be both busy and rewarding.

And I have a new mother, four best friends, and Jane and Eliot to see me through, he thought, wrapping himself in the knowledge that he was loved by such a remarkable group of individuals.

As their precious faces floated through his mind, sleep sneaked into James’s room and carried him away.

James checked his watch again. It was almost five in the afternoon, and he was itching to leave the library. However much he loved his job, he was much more excited by the prospect of being the first person to step inside Quincy’s Whimsies before tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day grand opening.

He was just about to head back to his office in order to collect his coat and lunch box when Lottie walked through the front door. James had only spoken the words “no comment” to Scott’s former flame as she’d been relentlessly harassing the Henry clan in an attempt to obtain a statement about Russ and Wheezie’s arrests. After calling James at home and at work, staking out the library, and even accosting him in the grocery store, the pushy reporter was one of the last people James wanted to see.

“Don’t you dare come in here and start pestering me. I’ve told you before that if you want the story on Russ and Wheezie to go ask them yourself. I won’t set eyes on Russ until our court date, so just drop it,” he growled as soon as she approached the desk. “You’re a pariah, you know.”

Lottie held up a red gift bag in one hand and made a peace sign with the other. “I’m not going to ask you about the murders anymore. Murphy’s back in town, and she’s taken over the story and everything else.” Her tone belied a hint of resentment. “I’m back to covering dog shows and farm auctions, even though I ran the whole paper while she was off on her book tour.”