Дэвид Балдаччи - The Guilty

Robie clutched her shoulder. “That won’t happen, Victoria.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Do you own a gun?”

“Everybody in Mississippi owns a gun.”

“Then I would start carrying it with you and keeping it handy around here. But don’t leave it around for Ty to stumble across.”

“As if I would, Will. I’m not stupid or careless.”

“I know. I’m just being overly cautious.”

She took several deep breaths. “I think I’ll go check on Ty.”

“I’m sorry for bringing this down on your head.”

“I’m sorry too, Will,” she said, and her tone was not friendly.

“I can move out of here,” he said, interpreting her unspoken thoughts.

“Well, it’s too late for that now. They saw you with us. They’ll put it all together. Hell, they probably already have. Are they also the source of these credible threats?”

“I don’t know, since I haven’t seen these credible threats. Davis hasn’t shared them with Toni Moses yet.”

She rose, slipped on her shoes, and headed out to check on Ty.

Robie went to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but as he looked around he realized that this had been Laura Barksdale’s bedroom.

He should have noted it before. Late at night he had shimmied up to the second-floor verandah and into her bedroom enough times.

Her bed had been set here as well, and with the way the room was configured, it was the most logical place. Her desk had been against the wall facing the front of the house. She’d been an A student, unlike Robie. But he figured his grades were good enough, considering he played sports year-round and had far from a perfect home life.

He rose and went to the window overlooking the front of the house. This had been the same window where he had seen her silhouette.

His mind went back to that night over twenty-two years ago. It had been the biggest shock he had ever received: that she had chosen to stay here instead of go with him. If he had ever bothered to psychoanalyze himself, he might have concluded that his problem getting close to people might stem from that.

But he had never bothered, and thus never concluded.

His phone buzzed. The number was one he didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Robie?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Sara Chisum.”

He froze, but only for a moment. She was the last person he ever expected to be calling him, especially after what had happened with her younger sister earlier.

“Sara, what is it?”

“Uh, you said if I remembered anythin’ that I should give you a call.”

“And did you remember something?”

“Well, to tell the truth, I never forgot it.”

“What is it?”

“It has to do with Janet. Who she was meetin’ with the night she was killed.”

“Who?”

“I don’t want to tell you over the phone.”

“Why not?”

“Look, Mr. Robie, Emma told me what you did.”

“You mean what I paid her?”

“Right.”

Now Robie understood the call. Little sister got paid, now big sister wanted her cut. Damn, thought Robie, these Chisum girls were nothing if not enterprising.

“All right, where and when?”

“Where we saw each other before. Tonight. Around eleven.”

“Why so late?”

“Because I can’t get away until my parents are asleep. My dad’s been watchin’ me like a hawk.”

“Okay, how much?”

“Triple what you paid Emma.”

“And if what you remembered isn’t worth that?”

“Trust me, it will be.”

Robie got there at ten, because he didn’t like other people picking the spots for meetings. He had left his car about a quarter mile away and approached on foot.

He was currently motionless behind a tree taking stock of the land in front of him. He didn’t like walking around out here late at night. Snakes were plentiful, and most of them were venomous. But even worse than that were the gators. The Pearl had its share of the deadly creatures. And though gators were mostly afraid of humans and avoided them whenever possible, sometimes the two species butted heads. And the gators won their fair share of those encounters.

The gator population had almost been wiped out in Mississippi by the 1970s. To replenish it the state had handed out baby gators at the state fair and asked folks to go drop them in the rivers. It had worked. Now there were nearly forty thousand of them in the state’s waters. They were territorial creatures, and they did most of their hunting at night.

Robie had almost lost a leg to one while swimming at dusk in the Pearl as a teenager.

The one thing he had never forgotten from the encounter was how big the suckers were. And fast.

He had both pistols with him, and he would use them, if necessary, on snakes, gators, or anything threatening him that moved on two legs.

He continued to look around, listening for both human footsteps and the rattles of snakes.

At two minutes past eleven he heard them.

Footsteps. Light, uncertain, hesitant.

Then Sara Chisum appeared in the same clearing where she had encountered Robie earlier. Near where Clancy had died. Probably where her sister had gone into the Pearl with a hole in her head.

She had on cutoff jean shorts, tennis shoes, and a long-sleeved shirt that hung past her waist.

“Mr. Robie?” she called out.

Robie did not step out into the clearing.

“Are you alone?” he said.

“Yes,” she replied.

A bit too quickly.

Robie’s hand went to his waistband and out came one of the Glocks. A round was already chambered. He had three spare mags on him as well as his other Glock.

“Come all the way out in the clearing,” he said.

She did so.

And then so did the other man. Right behind Sara.

It was the same guy from the other night: bandaged face in the car.

He held up his gun hand, which was also heavily bandaged. He had his gun in his left hand.

“Hello again,” said the man. “Remember me, Mr. Robie?”

The guy was murderous intent all dolled up in gauze and attitude.

Robie looked around for the others. No way this guy came alone. They were probably starting to outflank him now, coming from all corners.

Bang-bang you’re dead.

Stupid for him to have come here alone at night. He fished for his phone. But who would he call?

Taggert?

Who knew how long it would take for her to get here?

And if she did manage it she’d be outgunned and end up dead like him.

911?

He remembered what she’d said about that.

They’d get here tomorrow to take pictures of the body. What was left of it.

He put the phone away.

“You better come out, Robie,” said Sara, a touch of nervous triumph now in her voice. “They got you surrounded,” she added, her voice quavering. “Should’ve offered to pay me more than three hundred!”

“Shut up, bitch!” yelled the man. He slugged Sara with the butt of his gun. She screamed and fell to the ground, holding her head where he’d struck her.

The man pointed his gun at her.

“Robie, you got ’til the count of five and then she’s dead.”

“How about you being dead too, then?” replied Robie. He lined up his iron sights on the man’s face. There was just enough moonlight to make this an easy kill.

“I’ve got lots of guns aimed at her, Robie. Even if you kill me, she’s dead. And when you fire you reveal your position. And then you’re dead.”

“Looks like I’m dead either way, so why not take you and as many of your boys with me as I can?”

“Because if you come out with your weapon down I’ll let her go.”