David Bell - Never Come Back

“I think he might want to hurt anyone associated with the past. Anyone who knows who he really is.”

“I’m going to try to stay,” I said. “The detectives promised extra patrols. I’ll call 911 if I hear anything strange. A howling cat. A scraping branch.”

“Would your friend come over? Dan?”

The question brought me up short. I had enough complications in my life. Enough relationships in need of attention. “He would,” I said. “But I don’t think I want him to.”

“Why not? He seems so nice. So steady.”

“I know. But I’ve got enough here. My plate is full.” I left it at that, and Paul let it drop. I shifted gears. “Beth is coming over in a little bit. You’ll get to see her.”

“Yeah?” His voice sounded distant.

“Thirty-seven years,” I said. “Crazy.”

“Yes,” he said. His eyes glazed a bit, as though seeing something from the past. “A lifetime.” He snapped out of it. “How was it with the two of you? Is she… okay?”

“Are you asking me that because you said she might be disturbed? You called her a liar.”

“I worry about people’s motivations. What might have happened to her over all that time.”

“The police hinted at the same things.”

“Then it’s worth heeding their advice, isn’t it?”

He was right, of course. I didn’t know anything about her. I didn’t know what I was getting into. I knew I might end up looking like a fool.

And yet…

“I understand,” I said. “But all I can think of is Mom.”

“You mean she would have wanted this?”

“Yes. That. And that I said no to her. I pushed her away. I pushed her away when she needed me. And Ronnie… I don’t want to do that again.”

Paul fidgeted a little, but seemed to understand. He pressed his lips together into a tight line and scratched his chin. He seemed to be leading up to a pronouncement.

“I think I’m going to let you all get acclimated first. Is it overwhelming for Beth? All of this craziness?”

“I’m sure it is. But she’s held it together pretty well. She seems tough.”

“Well,” he said. “I can see her another time. I think the three of you need to get to know each other. I know Beth. The three of you don’t know each other at all. I think it’s important that you do. And you and Ronnie have to get used to this new life you’re going to be living. It’s a different phase for both of you. You know… Leslie would have liked this. She would have liked this very much.”

Something caught in my throat. I closed my eyes, letting it pass. “I know,” I said. “I feel like we’re driving you out.”

“Not at all,” he said. He looked around the house, taking in the door, the walls, the windows. “Do me a favor? Lock the door after me.”

“You don’t even need to ask.”

I woke up in the chair. The sun was down, the house quiet. I had fallen asleep without any lights on, and the whole place was dark. Only an ambient glow leaked through the windows from the streetlights.

I listened. I didn’t hear anything. I reached up and turned on the lamp next to me. My back and neck were stiff from the awkward sleeping position. I was hungry too.

I walked down the hallway, stopping at the door to Ronnie’s room. I saw no signs of light or life. The door remained ajar, just as I had left it. I gently pushed it open. Ronnie was still in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. His chest rose and fell. He was worn out. I looked at the large digital clock by his bedside. It was almost seven. I’d slept for an hour and a half.

Wasn’t Beth supposed to be at the house?

I walked back out to the living room and found my phone. I sent her a text.

Hey. Are you going to be able to stop by? No big deal if you can’t.

I turned on some lights in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Nothing there. Mom was long gone, the house long empty. I needed to go to the store, and find out what Ronnie wanted. I’d deal with it when he woke up. I looked through the cabinets, which were pretty well stocked. I found a can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew. Mom usually cooked, but every once in a while she’d take the night off and serve us something like that. I could picture her in the kitchen, working the manual can opener, peeling back the lid, and dumping the contents into a pan. How fascinated Ronnie and I could be just watching her live her routine life.

I did the same thing Mom would have done. I heated the beef stew, then sat at the table spooning it into my mouth. It always tasted better when Mom made it. Even from a can. I checked the phone again. Still no sign of Beth. Maybe her plans had changed. Or maybe…

I tried not to let doubts cloud my mind. I knew Paul and the cops were being cautious. Too much crazy stuff had happened not to be. But I meant what I had told Paul. I wanted to do what Mom would have wanted. I wanted to try to be some kind of family.

The phone buzzed. A text from Beth: B there soon.

I cleaned up the kitchen, then walked down the hallway to Ronnie’s room again and went all the way inside. I gently touched his arm.

“Ronnie?” I whispered.

He opened his eyes. He looked at me for a moment as though he didn’t recognize me.

“Do you know where you are?” I asked.

“Home,” he said, his voice confident.

“That’s right. Do you want to get up? Beth is coming over. She wants to see you.”

He groaned and yawned. “I’m tired.”

“I know. Do you just want to stay in bed? I can tell her you’re resting.”

He groaned again. “I’ll get up. In a minute.”

“Whatever you want.”

I knew he’d get up soon enough. He wouldn’t want to miss seeing Beth. He wouldn’t want to be left out of anything. He hated that.

It wasn’t long before the doorbell rang.

“She’s here, Ronnie,” I called out as I went to the door and opened it.

There was Beth. Eyes red rimmed, her face streaked with tears. She’d been crying. She looked like hell.

“What is it, Beth?” I asked.

I stepped back and she came in past me.

And then Gordon Baxter emerged from the shadows, following her. He stepped right into the house and closed the door behind him.

I backed farther into the room.

My phone was sitting on the kitchen table, far from my reach and any hope of dialing 911. My legs shook. A jittery, rubbery sensation passed down through my body, from my chest to my feet. I concentrated on remaining upright.

I looked at Beth.

She had come into the room and stood about ten feet away from me. She was crying again.

What was going on here? What was she doing bringing Gordon Baxter to my door?

She must have read my thoughts.

“He came to my house right when I was leaving. That’s why I’m late.”

“I wanted to have all of you together,” he said. “It will make everything easier.”

Gordon wore a raincoat over a cheap-looking polyester suit. His right hand was buried in the pocket of the raincoat, clutching something, a small, hard object. I didn’t need to see it to know he was armed.

“What do you want?” I asked. I hated that my voice quaked, that it sounded like a scared little girl’s. “What do both of you want?”

“Both?” Beth said.

Gordon spoke over her. “I’m offering you an opportunity,” he said. “The same one I offered Beth here on that night all those years ago. I know she’s shared all of that with you by now, right?”

“You mean how you ran her off,” I said. I looked at Beth. “If that’s even the truth.”

“It is the truth,” Beth said.

“You know what I want,” Gordon said, taking a step toward me, his hand still in his pocket. “I tried to make a deal with you before, but you wouldn’t go for it. Now the price has gone up.” He looked at Beth and then back at me. “I want some compensation for the years I had to wander in the wilderness. The bad health. The lost jobs. Jail.” He gestured toward Beth. “It all started down that way when this one here started making trouble for me. And your mother didn’t help. I want that insurance money your mom left to you and your precious and special brother. All of it.”