Page 103 of Brimstone Hollow
“You think he was going to Mexico?” she asks.
“That’s what it looks like.”
She groans and I hear the baby gurgle.
“And he turned around because he lost all his money in a casino,” she says flatly. “I suppose it doesn’t surprise me. And you don’t know why he came back to the church? What was hidden there or where it might be?”
“No,” I say. “But I’d guess it was either cash or something he could sell for cash. Since it seems likely him running out of money is the only reason he returned.”
The baby starts to cry, and as I pull into Mount Zion’s downtown, I listen to Katie coo and burble until he settles down. When she’s done she says, “What a mess.”
“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry the news isn’t more… pleasant.”
After a moment she sighs and says, “I’ve been thinking about what I told you earlier and… I keep remembering my mom telling me that I could be just like him sometimes. Me screaming at her, saying I didn’t see why that was a bad thing. Now I know the truth and… I have to make myself not wallow in it. You know? I mean… we can’t choose our parents or the qualities we inherit from our parents. We can only be aware of it. Try to make the most of who we are. Try to turn our worst impulses into something useful.”
“That’s very wise,” I tell her.
“Thank you, Annie,” she says. “For all that you’ve done.”
“Just doing my job,” I tell her.
“You said the DEA or whoever is coming to town, right? To continue the investigation?”
“Yes,” I say. “They’ll probably be swarming this place by tomorrow morning.”
“Then they can sort through the rest of my father’s sins,” she says. “I think I’ve learned enough. Will you come back home? I’d like to take you to lunch tomorrow. Settle up and… I don’t know. I feel like, after everything you’ve done for me… I’d just like to say thank you.”
“Well,” I say. “I’ve never been known to turn down lunch.”
Though, even as I say it, I regret not doing more here. Not finishing what I started. Not finding a solid connection between Ezra King and Joel Shepherd. Not finding what it was Ezra tried to retrieve from the church this morning.
Still, Katie’s right. The DEA is on their way. The FBI likely won’t be far behind and, hell, the IRS will probably be right behind them. Even if I wanted to stay here, I’d be pushed out or else risk contaminating evidence.
“I’ll be there,” I tell her, and we hang up.
Then I call Tina.
“You didn’t wreck that Bronco, did you?” Tina asks by way of answering.
“Looks like I won’t have a chance. I think we’re wrapping things up here, but I don’t have a ride back to town. You wouldn’t—”
“We can be there in a couple hours,” she says. “Let’s get you home. Get you back in your own bed tonight.”
“Thanks,” I say, and hang up.
As I’m pulling back through town, my stomach rumbles, and I realize I haven’t eaten all day. I park almost before I realize what I’ve done and find myself floating through the Dairy’s doors—cartoon-like—on the scent of fried food and biscuits. But as soon as I’m inside, I regret it. Between the open staring and the whispers that wash through the room once I’ve stepped over the threshold, I think maybe I should just get a meal somewhere else, maybe the less-busy sandwich shop downtown. I could take a turkey club back to my room and eat while I pack. I’m turning toward the door when I hear my name.
“Annie! Hey, Annie! Wait—”
It’s Zelda. She’s wearing her Cherry Dairy uniform and a red apron, smudged with flour and grease, and she breathes out aphew!as she catches up to me.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “It’s just… I’m hungry but it’s way too busy in here. I just need to grab something quick so I can get back to the room and pack.”
She looks around at the people gawking at us and then says, “Come back to the office. I’ll get something fixed up for you and you can eat in peace. You look exhausted.”
“Sure,” I say.
I follow her through the dining room and into the noisy, crowded kitchen. She veers off into a dimly lit hallway stacked with boxes of to-go cups and napkins, and then through another door into an office.
