Page 36 of The River We Remember

“It’s different,” Brody said.

“I’d like to know how.”

“Talking about Bluestone and Quinn, you’re talking about something that might be cold-blooded murder.”

“Killing is killing, Brody. You can justify it seven ways from sundown, but it’s still the same thing in the end.”

“The law says different, Connie.”

“Screw the law. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Graff stared across the empty highway toward the Alabaster. He spoke slowly and quietly. “I remember a night in Belleau Wood. We’re hunkered down in a big shell crater, the three of us left in our platoon. Me, I’m scared, but I’m so used to being scared it’s second nature. Kid next to me is green. From Oklahoma. Preacher’s boy. Brought a little Bible along with him. He’s holding it next to his heart and he’s praying. Real quiet, real desperate. I want to offer him some kind of comfort, but honest to God I got nothing. Because it’s hell and there’s no way around that. All the trees in the woods are nothing but jagged stumps. We can hear stuff going on around us, but it’s so dark we can’t see anything clear. Next thing we know, a couple of Jerries come diving into that crater, bayonets fixed. The guy next to the preacher boy, he gets a bayonet through his throat. Preacher boy, this scared kid, throws down his Bible and launches himself at the first Jerry. They go down. I’ve got my rifle up and put two rounds into the second Jerry. The preacher kid, he’s on top of the first one and they’re going at it hand to hand. I can’t shoot cuz I’d hit the kid. But it’s over pretty quick. Kid stands up and the Jerry’s lying there with his belly open and his guts spilling out. Somehow that kid had managed to draw his own bayonet, and let me tell you, Brody, I never saw a more effective use of that particular weapon. When it’s done, the kid pukes. All over his Bible. He never did pick it back up.” Graff swung his eyes from the course of the river to Brody. “Do I think Bluestone’s capable of killing Quinn in cold blood? You bet I do. And under the right circumstances I’d say the same of you. Or me.”

“How come you never told me that story?” Brody said.

“Lots of stories I never told you. Probably never will.”

Brody rubbed his eyes, trying to push away a headache that was just starting. “Did you talk to his wife?”

“A nice young woman. Quiet, respectful. Wouldn’t meet my eyes, though.”

“Did she tell you anything? Other than that her husband was at Quinn’s place?”

“She said the reason she wasn’t working for the Quinns now was that they didn’t need her. Bluestone told us it was because he didn’t want her there. A difference in their stories. It’s small, but something to consider.”

“There’s nothing to consider, Connie. Look, why would Quinn go out to Inkpaduta Bend, take his fishing gear and that Coleman lantern, if he wasn’t actually planning on a little night fishing? It’s clear that man shot himself, and it was either suicide or a terrible accident.”

“Why’d he disrobe?” Graff asked.

“Maybe he was going to swim. Or maybe he thought about drowning himself instead of using that Tolley.”

Graff gave him a long look. “You’re trying awful hard to see this in only one way.”

“The Quinns told me Jimmy tried to kill himself once before. J.P. talked him out of it.”

“You don’t say.” This clearly caught Graff by surprise.

“If we call it suicide, the Catholic Church won’t let them bury Jimmy with the rest of the family. So I’m telling you right now, unless that autopsy turns up something I can’t even imagine, I’m going to call Quinn’s death accidental. And unless you’ve got something that points beyond a shadow of a doubt to murder, you’re not even going to whisper that word. Are we clear?”

Graff let a few breaths go by. “You’re the sheriff,” he said.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THERE WAS A note on the jailhouse door. Lester Henning, the town cop in Jefferson, fifteen miles north, wanted Brody or one of the deputies to take a look at a break-in that had occurred at the Catholic church there. Nothing missing, but there’d been some vandalism. Henning thought it was similar to incidents that had occurred in two other towns in Black Earth County recently. Brody told Graff to cover it, and the deputy took off. Brody unlocked the jailhouse and stepped inside. Hector leapt up to greet him, then looked a little plaintively toward the open door.

“Guess we better go, huh?”

They went down Cottonwood Street, making a round they both knew well. Hector had been Brody’s since the dog was a pup, given to him by Connie Graff.

“You’ll need some company in that jailhouse,” Graff had said. “Gets lonely there at night. Unless you’re planning on taking some bride I don’t know about.”

There was no bride and no prospect for one, and Brody soon recognized the older lawman’s wisdom. Hector was the best of company, a companion who never complained, who listened without reply, who was always overjoyed to see Brody, and whose constant presence was not only easy to tolerate but also greatly appreciated.

People didn’t walk their dogs back then, not like they do now. But Brody was sheriff and didn’t want anyone complaining about Hector running wild. They were a familiar sight on the streets of Jewel, and most folks felt comfortable offering the dog a friendly pat in greeting.

On this particular outing, they walked past the courthouse lawn, where a couple of girls were playing with Hula Hoops. It was a recent fad, one Brody didn’t quite understand, but it had been a long time since he’d been a kid and had the freedom to kill time in frivolous ways. When he turned down Main Street, he was stopped again and again by people wanting to know about Jimmy Quinn. He dropped into Bennett’s Jewelry Store to check on the sapphire ring he’d found in Jimmy Quinn’s pocket. He was just leaving when the door of the Clarion office opened and Sam Wicklow stepped out. The newspaperman crossed the street and approached Brody. “I gave Asa all the photos from Inkpaduta Bend this morning. You had a chance to look at them?”

“Not yet, Sam. Thanks again for the favor.”

“No problem. Also, Loretta wanted me to let you know that we’re all still on for the Prairie Blooms tomorrow night.”