Ravens. Part 28

"Yes, I did."

"Still on vacation?"

"Yes."

"Folks don't usually vacation in Brunswick."

"They don't?"

"No, they go over to the island, or Savannah or something."

"Oh."

"There's not much to do here."

"You're right about that." Romeo shrugged. "I guess I just like how it's falling apart and n.o.body's trying to fix it."

Old Pork studied him intently. Trying to get a read, decide what his angle was. Romeo didn't mind the attention.

Then the cop said quietly, "OK. Could I see your license and proof of insurance, please?"

Romeo handed them over. The cop took them back to his car, and did his little incantations over them or whatever cops did.

Then he came back and returned the doc.u.ments and said, "Mr. - I'm sorry. I forgot how you say your name?"

"Zuh-DER-ko."

"I got a question for you."

Romeo waited.

"Your license says you're from Piqua, Ohio."

"Yes."

"Would that be anywhere around Dayton?"

Oh! It was coming then. The Truth. It was coming in the guise of a shabby old traffic pig. He wondered what he should do. Should he keep prevaricating under the very shadow of Truth?

"I'm sorry, Officer. Would you repeat the question?"

"What I'm really asking is, you wouldn't happen to be friends with Shaw McBride, would you?"

"Well. Oh. I guess yes. I mean I used to be."

"Used to be? You have a falling out?"

"It's a long story."

"Give me the gist."

"The gist is, he got struck by lightning."

"Sir?"

"I mean he won that jackpot. And became the apostle of all those freaks. And me, I guess I'm becoming something else."

"What are you becoming, sir?"

"Nothing."

"All right."

"Officer, do you sometimes get the feeling we're on the same ride? You and me? The way we both keep driving around and around this city like we're on some carousel together? Me on this ugly old s.h.i.+t-colored pony, you on your porkmobile pony? Jesus. Like we're waving at each other as we go around. You know?"

"Sir, I'm not sure what you're saying."

"I'm not either. It just feels like everything's spinning faster and faster, and we know this ride is gonna crash but we gotta keep pretending it's not."

"Crash?"

"I'm just thinking, why don't we jump off?"

"Sir?"

"I mean I wouldn't mind going home for a while. You wanna come with me? I could use another driver for the trip. You could get a break from this heat. See Ohio. Ohio's nice."

Old Pork looked at him.

Romeo smiled. "I'm kidding kidding. I know, we're stuck. We're not going anywhere."

"Sir, do you have any weapons in this car?"

"I have a Phoenix .22 plinker in the trunk. That legal?"

"So long as you keep it in the trunk."

"OK. Could I ask why you pulled me over?"

Old Pork thought a while. "Well sir," he said, "you've got no illumination on your tag. That's a requirement in the State of Georgia."

Stood there just looking at him, with no expression Romeo could read. But finally he added gently, "So you get that fixed, all right now, sir?"

Clio figured, so long as she was with Tara, she'd be OK. The memory of what had happened at the creekside, though already faint, was still present, and she needed to keep clear of it. So she stayed close to Tara's side; she stayed busy. They worked with the pilgrim ladies on the supper line at the fairgrounds, Clio ladling out barbecued shrimp, Tara dealing the garlic mashed. figured, so long as she was with Tara, she'd be OK. The memory of what had happened at the creekside, though already faint, was still present, and she needed to keep clear of it. So she stayed close to Tara's side; she stayed busy. They worked with the pilgrim ladies on the supper line at the fairgrounds, Clio ladling out barbecued shrimp, Tara dealing the garlic mashed.

Tara had filled a Snapple bottle with Cuervo. Now and then she or Clio would duck down and take a surrept.i.tious pull. That's what Clio was doing when Tara announced, "Oh my G.o.d. The Turkeys are here."

The Turkeys were a family of pilgrims from Delaware. The father had this jutting thing he'd do with his chin, and his wife and kids all had identical birdlike stares. And just now the whole family was coming through the chow line, and Clio and Tara had to fight to suppress their laughter.

Soon after them came the Enormous Pious Lady. Tara gave her an extra scoop of potatoes, and the EPL actually said, "Bless you, my child."

Then some guy came through the line and Tara whispered, "Doesn't he look like that guy on The Hills The Hills? The poser-a.s.s d.i.c.kwad?"

Clio groaned. "Oh my G.o.d. Spencer! He does!"

They were still laughing over that when the EPL came back for seconds. Tara gave her another big dollop of potatoes and the woman said, "Well, the Lord provides, don't he?"

And Tara said, "Yes ma'am. Provides and provides provides." As soon as the woman was gone Clio let loose with howls. She had to apologize to Mrs. Riley, the old lady who was running this show. "Sorry, Miz Riley. Getting it together now. Going back to work now."

The woman gave her an indulgent smile. Everyone was so good to Clio. Everyone knew how lucky she was to even be alive.

The last ones to come for lunch were Shaw and Trevor. They crossed from the picnic tables, talking quietly, easy in their skins, glowing with confidence. Clio wors.h.i.+ped Shaw and thought Trevor was sort of cute as well, and she was glad to see them. But Tara turned the color of ashes, and put down her big ladle and said, "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Wait. Why?"

"Or stay," Tara snapped. "Stay if you want." She walked away. Heading for the big cabin.

Clio hurried after her. "Why? You don't like him? But he saved my life. Didn't he? It wasn't true what Romeo said! I mean it was you and Shaw who saved me, right?"

Tara kept walking. "I think he's great, Clio. I'm just tired. I gotta lie down. You wanna come with me?"

Clio gave up trying to understand. Nothing clear or honest will show its face to me now, she thought. Which really was OK. She felt helpless, lost; she seemed to see everything through a keyhole; she couldn't tell which of these shadows were angels and which demons and the best thing was to go wherever Tara led her.

Burris drove around Brunswick, considering Zderko. drove around Brunswick, considering Zderko.

Had he ever in his career encountered anyone more troubled? No. Back in '87 he'd worked on the security detail that had transferred Leroy Ma.s.sequa to Reidsville. Leroy had just killed his whole family, believing (correctly) that his girlfriend was cheating on him with his own father. Yet even he had seemed tranquil compared to Romeo Zderko.

And why was Romeo Zderko in such turmoil?

Because, Burris believed, he was under the thumb of Shaw McBride. Because he was the cudgel that Shaw McBride was using to terrorize the Boatwrights.

Though Burris had no evidence for this. He had nothing but conjecture. And since he'd never even met McBride, and had seen him in the flesh but once - in church yesterday - he thought he ought to be careful before laying any judgment on him.

I ought to at least meet meet the lying extortionate snake. the lying extortionate snake.

He turned the cruiser around and headed for the fairgrounds.

Romeo drove past Shelby's house and saw, through the great-room window, that the Braves were on. Somebody in that house liked the Braves. But he had no idea who. The boy? Uncle Shelby? MacKenzie? Or maybe they just left the TV on when they went out; maybe the house was empty? drove past Shelby's house and saw, through the great-room window, that the Braves were on. Somebody in that house liked the Braves. But he had no idea who. The boy? Uncle Shelby? MacKenzie? Or maybe they just left the TV on when they went out; maybe the house was empty?

As he drove away he thought, what a useful visit. I'm learning so much on these patrols.

He went over to Vanessa and Henry's house on Poinsettia Circle. Just as he pa.s.sed, Vanessa came out to her mailbox, and when she went back in, she opened the kitchen door without using a key. Good, he thought. She leaves the door unlocked. Whenever he needed to, he could just walk in. That was important to know.

Why the h.e.l.l was he still making these rounds?

He drove past Enoch Emery's office. Then past Alfred's house, then past Nell's. And so around. In the center of his circuit was the Rotary Club fairgrounds. If he were a moth, that's where his flame would be. Shaw had said, don't get too close. But couldn't he just stop by for a minute for a minute? For the sake of his sanity? Just take a little break from these orbits and go check out the crowd at the fairgrounds, see the heart of things, the pulse? Just for a minute. What could be the harm in that?

Tara lay in bed in one of the camp cabins with Clio next to her. lay in bed in one of the camp cabins with Clio next to her.

Came a soft knock and the door opened. Tara didn't look, but by the very breeziness of his approach, she knew.

"What do you want?" she said.

"Checking on Clio. How is she?"

"Asleep."

He brought a stool next to the bed and sat down. He spoke quietly so as not to wake Clio. He said, "Listen. Thank you for standing up to me today. For saving her life."

"Yeah? OK. f.u.c.k you."

He said, "I don't ever want to hurt you. Ever. Or anyone close to you. You know that?"

She just looked out the window.

Said Shaw, "You know what I do do want?" want?"

She shrugged. "Yeah."

"What do I want?"

"Love."

He wanted everyone's love. Hers, Dad's, Mom's, Jase's, Nell's. And from everyone else he seemed to be getting it. One by one, they'd fallen; everyone submitting but her. And maybe soon, her too. Or maybe not. She half-wished he'd try to take her right now. Either she'd kill him, or he'd overpower her and she could surrender and call him Lord and turn into some kind of gray nothing like Dad, and after that no one's life would be in her care.

But he didn't touch her. He only sat there in the gathering dark, without saying another word.

Burris knew the cop who was stationed outside the fairgrounds. Name of Mims, county guy. Burris had worked with him in his days with the Coastal Area Drug Abuse Task Force. knew the cop who was stationed outside the fairgrounds. Name of Mims, county guy. Burris had worked with him in his days with the Coastal Area Drug Abuse Task Force.

"Hey, Mims."

"What's up, Burris?"

"Well. I'm investigating a theft."

"Oh. Here?"

"Yeah."

Mims waved him in. No further curiosity, no bother. Well, right, thought Burris. If I'd been parbroiling all day in that Crown Vic I probably wouldn't give a d.a.m.n who came or went either.

He drove up past the big cabin to the gra.s.sy field that met woods on three sides and a pond on the other. The sky was still br.i.m.m.i.n.g with light, but dusk had started to pool in the trees. Shaw's followers crowded the picnic tables, and sprawled on the gra.s.s and on the porch of the big cabin. Mercy. So many of them. And they were all eyeing Burris warily and seemed to be deeply suspicious.

A man advanced. Baby-faced, dressed like a scarecrow, but nevertheless carrying himself like a big tuna. Burris lowered his window. "I'd like to talk to Shaw McBride?"

"He's busy."

"Would you tell him a police officer wants to see him?"