C Box: In Plain Sight

Hank was laid out on a workbench, his cowboy boots pointed toward the ceiling, his face serene but white, his hands palms up.

And there was a man’s entire arm on the floor near Wyatt’s feet, the hand still gripping a pistol. The arm appeared to have been wrenched away from the body it had belonged to. Joe didn’t think that was possible, but here it was right in front of him.

Joe didn’t even feel Nate run into him accidentally and nearly send him sprawling.

Wyatt looked up at Joe, his eyes red with tears, his mouth agape with a silent sob.

“Wyatt,” Joe asked. “What happened here?”

The youngest Scarlett boy closed his eyes, sluicing the tears from them, which ran down his cherubic face.

“Wyatt…”

“My brothers are dead,” Wyatt said, his voice breaking. “My brothers-”

“Who did it?”

Wyatt’s body was wracked with a cry. “Bill Monroe.”

Joe thought, J. W. Keeley.

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. He ran away.”

“Is that his arm?”

There was a flash in Wyatt’s eyes. “I tore it out when I saw him shoot Arlen. Took a few hard twists to get it off, but it wasn’t no different than pulling a drumstick off a roast chicken. I thought I killed him last night, after what he did to Hank. But he came back.”

Joe thought: the blood on the wall and ceiling upstairs.

“Wyatt,” Joe said, trying to keep his voice calm but failing in his effort, so as not to upset the big man and cause him to clam up, “Did Monroe have my girls with him?”

Wyatt nodded sincerely. “And Julie too. But not anymore.”

“Where are they?”

“They’re safe,” Wyatt said. “They’re in my shack. Bill told Arlen he was going to hurt them if he didn’t give him money. Julie’s mom is there too.”

Joe felt a surge of blistering relief, although he wondered where Keeley was.

Nate asked, “Why are your brothers down here, Wyatt?”

Wyatt clenched his eyes, shaking his head from side to side. He looked like he was about to explode.

“Nate,” Joe cautioned.

Nate pressed, “Why did you bring them down here?”

Wyatt whispered, “To preserve them. So I could preserve my family. We’re very important here. And I loved them so much, even though they didn’t love each other.”

“Like you preserved your mother,” Nate said.

Wyatt nodded, then looked up eagerly. “Did you see how I made her smile? Not many people knew how she could smile. They know now.”

Joe turned and shouldered past Nate toward the stairs.

“Please stay with him,” Joe said. “I’m going to get my girls.”

HE RAN ACROSS the ranch yard and down the road on legs that felt as if they could go out on him at any time. The scene in the cellar had scorched his soul, and Wyatt had broken his heart.

J. W. Keeley was still out there, as far as Joe knew. As he ran, he held his gun in front of him with two hands and searched for movement of any kind in the dark trees near the ranch buildings. How far could a man go with a wound like that? he wondered. He’d seen deer and elk travel for miles with legs blown off by careless hunters. But a man?

Then a horrible thought struck him as he ran: Maybe Keeley had found the girls.

SHERIDAN’S EARS WERE numb from the drumming of the heavy rain on top of the tin roof of the shack. So numb, that when she heard a cry outside she doubted herself. Just like earlier, when she thought she had heard gunshots outside and even the unholy scream of a man. In both instances, she couldn’t be sure that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. This time, though, she heard the cry again.

“Is someone coming?” Lucy asked from where she was huddled in the corner of Wyatt’s shack.

“Yes,” Sheridan said, summoning all her courage to approach the window and brush aside the curtains. The glass outside was still streaked with running rain, and the view undulated with the water. A form appeared in the murk outside, a man running toward the shack, crouching, looking around as if he expected someone to jump out at him. She recognized the form.

She stepped back from the window and turned to Lucy, beaming. Everything was suddenly right with the world.

“Dad’s here,” she said.

LIGHTS WERE ON in Wyatt’s shack. Joe called out again for his girls.

He heard, “Dad!” in response. Sheridan. A squeal from Lucy.

The door was locked. He jerked on it and pushed it but it was solid.

“Just a minute,” Doris Scarlett said from inside.

He heard a bolt tumble and the door opened inward. Sheridan, Lucy, and Julie Scarlett were inside, behind Doris. Lucy ran across the floor and bear-hugged Joe around the waist.

Sheridan said, “Boy, are we glad to see you.”

Joe closed the door behind him and pulled both of his daughters to him.

Lucy said, “You’re really wet, Dad.”

Joe sat them down on a couch with Julie. He said, “Tell me what happened.”

Sheridan told the story about Bill Monroe taking over the bus, turning it around, and getting it stuck as they tried to cross the river. Monroe made them get out and wade to the shore, and they all walked through the mud to the ranch. When they got to the ranch yard, Wyatt came out of the cellar and yelled at Bill Monroe to go away. When he wouldn’t, Wyatt charged him and hit him in the head. Monroe ran, cursing, toward the house where Arlen now stood on the front porch. Monroe went inside and Arlen closed the door. Wyatt told Doris and the girls to go to his shack and lock the door and not let anyone in unless it was he.

That’s all they knew, and Joe was relieved. They hadn’t seen what happened inside.

“Have you seen Keeley since?” Joe asked, “I mean Bill Monroe,” he said, to avoid confusion.

“Keeley?” Sheridan asked. “Like April? The same name?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Sheridan and Lucy exchanged glances. “I told you his face was familiar. He has April’s eyes,” Sheridan said to Lucy, referring to her stepsister.

Joe shook his head, then looked at Julie who sat silent and alone at the end of the couch. She had no idea she’d lost her uncle and her father. Thank God her mother was there.

He stood.

“Keep the door locked, just like Uncle Wyatt told you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Doris said, “Please be careful. Don’t let Bill Monroe find us.”

Her voice trembled as she said it, and Joe could see how terrified she was. “Can’t you stay with us?”

Joe considered it, but shook his head. He couldn’t assume Keeley had bled to death. And even if he had, Joe needed to see the body. “I need to be sure he can’t threaten anyone again,” he said.

“Then can we go home?” Lucy asked.

Joe didn’t ask which home she meant. “Yes,” he said.

ALL HIS THOUGHTS and feelings channeled into one: revenge.

Joe returned to the front porch of the house and studied the concrete. Although rain had washed most of it away, he could still see traces of blood. Nate must have missed it in his haste on the way in. He backed off the porch and looked around on the wet loam. A spot here, a splash there. Headed in the direction of the barn.

It was like following a wounded game animal, Joe thought. He looked not only for blood flecks but for churned up earth, footprints, places where Keeley had fallen as he staggered away.

There was a depression in the grass where Keeley must have collapsed, his shoulder punching a dent into the turf that was now filling with water and a swirl of blood.

Keeley hadn’t made it all the way inside the barn. He sat slumped against the outside door, next to a boat that was propped up against the wall. Joe guessed Keeley was going for the boat when he collapsed. Keeley’s legs were straight out in front of him. He held the stump of his left arm with his right hand, covering the socket tight with bone-white fingers. Still, blood pumped out between his joints with every weakening heartbeat. Joe couldn’t see a weapon on Keeley or near him as he approached. But Keeley watched Joe the whole time, his eyes sharp, his mouth twisted with hate.