Chris Whitaker: We Begin at the End

In a tired room he lay on his bed and thought of Duchess, lost out there now. He did not fight the way his body shook, just caved to it. His pants were loose, he’d punched new holes in his belt three times now. If he looked in the mirror he would see a frown where his smile had once been. They said he’d never change. He’d clung to that.

In the drawer beside he found a Bible and a pen and paper, and he wrote, resigned to resignation, he gave up his badge. There were still questions, maybe forever unanswered, but he would try, for the girl and the boy, he would still try.

He called Martha, got her machine so left the kind of rambling message that told her he was good, knew she wouldn’t buy it but signed off with a promise to call again after he got some sleep. He also told her he was sorry, sorry for more than he could possibly atone for.

His cell rang at nine.

He expected to hear Martha’s voice but it was Tana Legros, from the lab. He hadn’t leaned heavy this time, just asked if it could be done quietly.

“I owe you some bloodwork. I did leave messages, several over the past month.”

“Sorry. I’ve been …”

“Anyway, I made the gun a priority.”

“The blood in Darke’s place. Milton.”

“No, actually. Animal, not human.”

Walk ran a hand through his hair as he thought of Milton, hunting with Darke then heading back to his place after. “Deer?”

“Could be.”

“Right.”

“You okay, Walk?”

“The gun. Did you get anything?”

“We pulled prints.”

“Vincent King?” He held his breath, the room doing its spin, all or nothing now.

“No, actually.”

Walk took it, too tired even for his pulse to quicken.

“It’s small.”

“Woman?”

“Child. Small child.”

Walk closed his eyes. And then he dropped the phone as the pieces began to fit. He ached, so beat he could barely hold his head up.

He thanked Tana, then dialed Vincent.

Vincent answered on the second ring, a man that did not sleep anymore, one of the night people.

“I know.”

He listened to Vincent draw breath.

“What do you know?” Vincent said it quiet, not a challenge, just acceptance now.

“Robin.” The little boy’s name hung long in the air, the last year, all that had gone before. Walk stepped to the window, saw the freeway empty of cars, the sky empty of stars. “I found the gun.”

The silence was long, just the two of them, holding together, like always.

“You want to tell me?”

“I took two lives, Walk. I can live with one of those.”

“Baxter Logan. He paid his price, right?”

“You think it makes that woman’s family happy, what I did to the monster that ruined her? Maybe. I know what I did. I live with that. But not Sissy. Each time … each one of my breaths is stolen from her.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“You already know.”

Walk swallowed. “The boy shot his mother.”

Vincent breathed.

“But he was aiming at someone else,” Walk said, quiet, sad.

“Darke.”

“The girl burned his club. Insurance wouldn’t pay. How’d you fit?”

“I saw his car, went round back, the cut. Darke said he was searching the place, tried the kids’ bedroom door and Star lost it. The boy climbed out the window, heard his mother scream and came back.”

“Brave,” Walk said. “Like his sister.”

“Star shoved him in the closet, got him out of the way. The kid found the gun. Maybe he thought she was getting beat. He aimed out, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Still had them closed when I got there.”

“Darke.”

“Would’ve killed him. He had her blood on him. Kid’s the only witness, whatever he says, Darke’s at the scene. Darke goes down.”

Walk rested his head against the glass as light rain began to fall. He thought of Darke, that perception and how he used it. Maybe he would’ve killed the boy, Walk didn’t think so. But the angle presented itself. “How’d you plead it?”

“Told him I’d take it all. I’d take the fall, no one else for the cops to look for. He was never there.”

“He bought that?”

“No. The house, Walk. He wanted the house. So I gave in. He could buy it, if he left the kid alone.”

“Why didn’t you just plead guilty?”

“Plead guilty and I spend the rest of my life in that cage. Plead innocent and the end comes at me. The case wasn’t winnable. Questions would have come. The gun.”

“You hid it.”

“Darke took it. His insurance in case I changed my mind.”

“You helped Robin back through the window. Washed your hands. Shit, Vincent.”

“Thirty years inside, you learn about crime scenes.”

“You plugged the holes and stayed silent.”

“Your questions didn’t need answering. I look more guilty if I just stay silent. Start talking and you tie me up, no gun, I couldn’t explain that. Let them stick a needle in my arm. Let them do what they should have done thirty years ago.”

“Sissy. It wasn’t murder.”

“It was, Walk. You just didn’t want to see it that way. I’m ready now. I want to go. I’ve always wanted to go. But after I’d served my time. Hal said he was glad I was in there, that I should be punished. Death was too good.”

“Darke couldn’t raise the funds to buy your place. Not the down payment, the taxes. Not after what Duchess did,” Walk said.

“I didn’t know that. But then he wrote me.”

“I saw the letter.”

“Right.”

“You must’ve been mad.”

“I was. At first I was. Not for me … but the money. I needed that money.”

“He gave the gun back because he couldn’t keep his side of the deal. A man of his word, right?”

Silence for a long time.

“People are complex, Walk. Just when you think you got them figured … he gave me an out if I ever needed it.”

“Sometimes wishes do come true … the wishing tree.” Walk said it to himself, tired smile on his face, right there and he’d missed it.

Walk thought of Vincent on the other end. He wondered how ground down he was, if there was any of the kid left in there. “You banked on the boy not remembering.”

“I saw him, gone like that, out of this world. I don’t think he knows. So I told him I did it. That’s enough, just that doubt. Let someone else take it away. Fuck, he deserved that. I tried to bring her back. I pumped her chest with everything I got.”

Walk thought of Star, the broken ribs. And he thought of Darke and Madeline and the cruel hand of fate.

“You lied for me. You stood in court, wearing your badge, and you lied. You still know yourself, Walk?”

“No.”

“You can’t save someone that doesn’t want to be saved.”

Quiet a long time.

“How’s things with Martha?”

Walk just about managed a smile. “That’s why you wanted her.”

“A million tragedies began that night, Walk. Most of them I can’t fix.”

Walk thought of Robin Radley. “I used to want to go back and do it all again. But now I’m just tired. So fucking tired. Maybe you did a good thing.”

“I owe a debt to the Radleys. He might not remember. He’s small. I could die giving him his life back. There’s a chance it’ll all stay black.”

“You near gave your life for a chance.”

“I couldn’t let him be me.”

45

WALK DROVE DOWN LAST ROADS, each mile behind one he would not travel again. He had spent a life afraid of change. He had killed. Nothing outward was different, he knew it would not be. The bay came at him in such glory, he kept his eyes on broken lines.

Twenty miles from home he found the place, a storage facility, West Gale, tired, red lockups, no office, just a number to call if you needed service.