John Hart - Down River

“People think I’m into Miriam for the money.”

“There’s always the money,” I said.

“We can’t pick who we love.”

“So, you do love her then?”

“I’ve loved her since high school, maybe longer. I would do anything for Miriam.” His eyes filled with sudden conviction. “And she needs me. Nobody has ever needed me before.”

“I’m glad that it’s all good.”

“It’s not all good, don’t misunderstand me. Miriam is… well, she’s a fragile woman, but like good china, you know. Fragile, beautiful.” He lifted his heavy hands from the table, held his fingers as if he was holding teacups by tiny handles. “I have to be gentle.” He lowered the pretend cups to the table and lifted his hands, fingers spread. He smiled. “But I enjoy that.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Your stepmother was slow to approve.” His voice dropped, so that I almost missed his next words. “She thinks I’m a worker bee.”

“What?”

“She told Miriam that you date the worker bees, you don’t marry them.” I sipped my coffee and George picked up his fork. He looked as if he was waiting for something. “So do I have your approval?” he asked.

I put down the coffee. “Are you serious?” He nodded and I felt sorry for him. “I’m not entitled to an opinion, George. I’ve been gone a long time. I left under suspicion. You’re a cop for God’s sake.”

“Miriam is glad to have you back.”

I was already shaking my head. “You have no idea how Miriam feels about me.”

“Then let’s just say that she’s conflicted.”

“It’s not the same thing,” I said, and George looked uncomfortable.

“I’ve always looked up to you, Adam. Your approval would mean a lot to me.”

“Then God bless you both.”

He held out his hand again and I shook it; his face was beaming. “Thank you, Adam.” He went back to his breakfast, and I watched the food disappear.

“Any word on Zebulon Faith?” I asked.

“He’s gone to ground, looks like. But he’ll turn up. People are looking for him.”

“And what about Danny?” I asked. “What do you think about that?”

“A hell of a place to end up, but I’m not surprised.”

“Why not?”

George wiped syrup off his chin and leaned back. “You and Danny were tight, okay, so don’t get pissed or anything.”

“You were friends, too.”

He shook his head. “Early on, maybe. But Danny got cocky after you left. Suddenly, all the women wanted him. Nobody was as cool as he was. He was easy to dislike. Things changed even more when I became a cop.” He looked out the window, pursed his lips. “Danny said I was a joke. He told Miriam that she shouldn’t date a joke.”

“Guess he remembered a different George Tallman.”

“Fuck him, then. That’s what I say.”

“He’s dead, George. Why don’t you tell me why that fact doesn’t surprise you?”

“Danny liked the ladies. The ladies liked him. Single ones and married ones. Probably some pissed off husbands that would like to take a chunk out of Danny. And Danny was a gambler. Not Wednesday night poker, either. I mean the real deal. Bookies. Borrowed money. He’s run the gamut. But you should probably talk to your brother about that.”

“Jamie?”

George’s mouth tightened in distaste. “Yeah. Jamie.”

“Why? Jamie is over his gambling problem. He licked it years ago.”

George hesitated. “Maybe you’d better ask him.”

“You won’t tell me?”

“Look, I don’t know what happened with Jamie before you left. I had nothing to do with that. All I know is what I see now. Jamie wants to be the same kind of player Danny was. Problem is, he’s half as charming and twice as bad at cards. So, yeah, he gambles. Heavily, from what I’ve heard. But I don’t need to add to our problems. Talk to him about it if you want, but don’t mention my name.”

A rusted-out pickup pulled into the lot and disgorged three men in dirt-rimed boots and greasy farm caps. They sat at the counter and fingered dog-eared menus. One of them stared at me and made a face like he was about to spit on the floor.

“I take it that you and Robin don’t exactly get along,” I said.

George shook his head and blinked. “I know you guys have a history, but I don’t like mincing words, so I’m just going to say it. She’s way too intense. Supercop, you know.”

“And she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m easy, Adam. I like the uniform. I like working with kids and riding around with the dog. I’m a happy guy. Alexander is all about the bust.”

I pretended that I wasn’t bothered. “She’s changed,” I said.

“No shit.”

Everyone at the counter was staring at me now, the whole group of them, like they wanted to kick my ass. I understood; the boy had been well liked. I gestured and George followed the motion. “You seeing this?” I asked.

He studied the group, and I was impressed by the force of his personality, the cop in him. He stared them down until they looked away. His face softened when he looked back. “People are idiots,” he said.

I heard a horn outside, and saw one of the farm trucks pull to a stop in the lot. It was Jamie. He honked again.

“Your ride,” George said.

“Guess he’s not coming in.” I stood and dropped some bills on the table. “Good seeing you, George.”

George gestured at Jamie. “Remember what I said. I don’t need any more problems with your brother. We’re going to be family soon.”

“No worries.”

“Thanks.”

I started to turn, stopped. “One question, George.”

“Yeah?”

“These bookies you’re talking about. They heavy hitters? I mean, heavy enough to kill somebody over an unpaid debt?”

He wiped his mouth. “I imagine that would depend on the size of the debt.”

I left, and didn’t look back. Outside, the day had spread into another towering sky, a vault of blue so vast and still that it seemed unreal. In the truck, Jamie looked pale and swollen, with circles that spread beneath his eyes. A beer bottle was wedged between his massive legs. He saw me looking.

“I’m not drinking early, if you’re wondering. I’m still up from last night.”

“Want me to drive?”

“Sure. What the hell.”

We switched places. I moved the seat up an inch and another empty bottle rolled under my feet. I tossed it into the back. Jamie rubbed a hand over his face and looked at himself in the visor mirror. “Jesus. I look like crap.”

“You okay?”

He eyed George through the window. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. I put the truck in drive and pulled into thin traffic. I felt him looking at me.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“What?”

“You can ask me.”

His voice rose. “What the hell, Adam? What did the cops want with you?”

“I guess that’s been the topic of conversation around the house.”

“No shit, bro. It’s not like anybody’s forgotten the last time the cops took you away. Dad’s been telling everyone to calm down, but it hasn’t been easy. I’ll tell you that for nothing. Everybody’s unsettled.”

I’d known it was coming, so I explained without losing my temper. Jamie looked doubtful.

“What did you and Grace talk about that was so damned secret?”

“That’s none of your business, either,” I said. I glanced sideways. He was cross-armed and angry. “Is this why you’ve been up all night drinking?” I asked. “You wondering about your brother again? Having doubts?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Danny, mostly,” Jamie said. “He was good people, you know. I thought he was still down in Florida, beaching it for a while. And all the time he was in that hole.” He drained the beer.