Greg Iles - The Devils Punchbowl

“I don'’t think she wants that right now.”

“Bullshit. When you think they don'’t want to talk to you…that’s

exactly

when they want you to talk to them. Take it from me.”

The truth is, I very much want to talk to Caitlin. Before doubt can

stop me, I dial her cell and am surprised when she doesn’'t let it go to voice mail.

“Penn?” she says.

“Yes.”

“Is anything wrong?”

“No. I was wondering if I could come over and talk to you.”

“I'm pretty wiped out, actually. Is it important?”

Kelly motions for me to push it. “I think it is. It won'’t take long.”

There’s a long silence. Then she says, “All right, I'’ll be on the porch.”

“Thanks. I'm on my way.”

“Way to go!” Kelly says, slapping my back. “I told you.”

As I smile back at him, I see that he must have had quite a few drinks at the Corner Bar. His eyes are bloodshot slits. But if anybody’s earned a few drinks, Kelly has.

“I'’ll see you, bro,” I say.

“I hope not. You need to stay over there tonight.”

“Is Carl there?”

“Yeah. But I'’ll text him to put some Kleenex in his ears. Go on, man. She’s waiting for you.”

I wave him off and hurry out.

CHAPTER

44

Caitlin waits on her porch with her arms folded, her hair down around her neck. She’s wearing a blue cashmere sweater and jeans, and from her expression I get the feeling she’s not planning on being out here long. I walk up the steps and stop a few feet short of her.

“Long day?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Yes and no. Lots to think about. No big epiphanies. What about you?”

“I did a lot of thinking during Tim’s funeral. About Annie, about the town. But about us, mostly.”

Caitlin doesn’'t prompt me to continue, but there’s no point backing away from it now. “I realized today that I lost you the first time because I was too idealistic, which you told me at the time. I wanted to do something that you thought was impossible, and I didn't really listen to your objections. I thought you didn't see the situation as deeply as I did, so I went on and did it anyway. And you left.”

She’s watching me with interest now. She doesn’'t often get abject admissions of fault from me.

“I really thought you were never coming back,” I go on. “But you did. And I think you were open to us when you came back. And the irony is, now I'm losing you again, only this time it’s because you want me to do something

I

think is impossible, at least for the time being. Now it’s your idealism that’s separating us.”

Her mouth opens in amazement. “So it’s

my

fault? That'’s what you’re saying?”

“No. I'm saying that you were right the first time. I was wrong to think I could save this town by myself. It was hubris. And though my parents raised me never to quit anything, I think that for a lot of reasons, the time has come for me to step down and focus on what the people I care about really need.”

She looks steadily back at me, but I can’t read her expression. Whatever she feels, it’s clearly not what I’d hoped for.

“I spoke to Paul Labry today about running for mayor after I resign.”

“Resign?” She draws back as though she can’t quite believe this. “And what do you plan to do after that?”

“Move somewhere that you can be happy working in your job, and where Annie can go to a top-flight school.”

Caitlin blinks several times, then looks curiously at me. “And you?”

“I can write anywhere.”

She turns toward the street and leans on her porch rail. “I don'’t know what to say.”

“I thought you’d be happy to hear that. More than happy, actually.”

A sad smile touches her mouth. “I would have thought so too. I’'ve waited a long time to hear it. A very long time. But now that I have, what it sounds like is…you’re running away.”

“Running away? From what? The job?”

“I don'’t know.” She turns to me with anger in her eyes. “From Tim’s death, from Sands, this whole dirty mess. And, yes, the job too. What about the noble work that meant so much to you two years ago? I don'’t get it. It’s like for the first time in your life, you’re trying to take the easy road. And I don'’t—that’s not the man I fell in love with.”

I'm so stunned I can hardly get my thoughts together. “You want me to

stay

here? Finish out my term? Is that it? You want Annie to stay in St. Stephen’s?”

“That'’s not what I want, no. But I don'’t want you to slink away from this place either. Or from what’s caused this problem between us.”

A surge of resentment rises in me, but I press it down. “Look, it’s

not like I'm Achilles sulking in his tent, okay? I’'ve made some decisions about the case too. I'm a lawyer, Caitlin. And I'm going to attack the Sands problem like a lawyer. After Po is in custody and Sands is in the system, I'm going to use every resource in my power to have him indicted on state murder charges. And if I can’t prove them, I'’ll get him on the others. Kidnapping, dogfighting, money laundering, whatever it takes to put him behind bars.”

She nods distantly, as though this is the minimum I should do. “What if they don'’t get Po?”

“Then Sands won'’t be of any use to the government anymore. He’ll lose his protection from Hull. Hull will probably nail Sands himself.”

“No, he won'’t. Don’t you see?

That'’s

my fear. You’re so naďve sometimes. It will just go on and on, this teasing game, where Hull thinks he’s running Sands, but it’s really the other way around.”

“So what do you want to do? Take it all public?”

Her jaw tightens abruptly. “Maybe. I'm thinking about it. If the Po sting doesn’'t work, it’s certainly an option. And please don'’t remind me of our deal. As far as I'm concerned, you'’ve stepped away from this case, and I'm free to make my own decisions.”

This statement starts an alarm ringing in my head. “What have you been doing today?”

“Trying very hard not to think about all this.”

I know she doesn’'t want me to pry, but I can’t help myself. “What are your plans tomorrow?”

“I’'ve been talking to those people I was in touch with on the Katrina stories. The Danziger Bridge incident, mainly, but also trying to sort out what really happened in the convention center down there. And the Superdome.”

The bridge incident means her “friend’s” documentary.

“Yes, I’'ve spoken to Jan today, if that’s what you’re wondering. He’s shooting some footage tomorrow with some Danziger witnesses. I'm thinking of going down to help out. He doesn’'t have much crew down there.”

This prospect bothers me far more than I would have expected it to. I mean, I practically just asked this woman to marry me, and she’s telling me she’s going to New Orleans to shoot a film with another guy. “When were you thinking of leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

I should conceal my feelings better, but I realize I'm shaking my head angrily. “I don'’t know what to say. This isn’t the reaction I expected. The opposite, in fact. I guess…I’d better think about what you'’ve said. What you’re doing.”

She nods and gives me the sad smile again. “I want to think about what you said, as well. Resigning would be a very big step for you. I didn't mean to belittle it. Like I said, I’'ve waited a long time to hear you say what you did.”

“Too long, maybe?”

“I don'’t know. I'm not sure why this Sands thing has affected me so deeply.”

Without thinking, I reach out and take her hand. “Will you have lunch with me tomorrow? At the Castle, like we used to? Maybe we’ll have some perspective on this by then.”

She looks at me a long time, leaving her hand in mine. “If I'm still in town, I will.” Her fingers slide out of my grasp. “If I don'’t show up, that means I had to take more time with it. Do you understand?”