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  “Thanks,” he answered, but she had already turned her back to him.

  Reggie gave a tight grin, murmuring, “Another one of your fans.”

  Jeffrey ignored him as they walked to the house. The blister on his heel was starting to throb, but Jeffrey would be damned if he limped around Reggie.

  To take his mind off the pain, Jeffrey thought about Sara back at the cave. Hoss had probably shown up by now. What was he telling her? What story was he weaving to try to protect Jeffrey? Sara would get sick of this, he knew. She wasn’t the type of woman who put up with being lied to, and last night’s business had nearly chased her away forever. Soon, she would probably start to realize that there was some truth to what everyone was saying. The part that hurt most was that it was Jeffrey’s own damn fault. Bringing her here had been like swallowing a live grenade. Jeffrey was just waiting for it to explode.

  Through the screen door, Jeffrey could see the long hallway that ran to the back of the house. The place had been built back when mansions were the real thing: something for the elite to own and not just big empty boxes that echoed when you walked into them. Jeffrey had only been to Jessie’s house a handful of times, but he remembered there was a formal parlor as well as a sitting room, on either side of the front hall, with a dining room, kitchen, and huge family room at the back. He raised his hand to knock on the door just as Jessie came out of the kitchen. She had a glass in her hand and he guessed from the color of the liquid and the clinking ice as she walked that she was drinking straight scotch.

  Reggie noticed, too. He made a show of looking at his watch. “Barely past noon.”

  Jeffrey started to make an excuse for her, but stopped himself at the last minute.

  “Hey, boys,” Jessie said. She was a good drunk in that she never slurred her words or turned sloppy. As a matter of fact, drinking did nothing but sharpen her edges. Underneath Jessie’s flawless skin and perfect figure was a bitter woman who saw only the bad in things. Alcohol brought the acid to the surface.

  Jeffrey asked, “Is Robert here?”

  “Not like we could go home,” Jessie said, pushing open the door. She stepped to the side but still blocked the doorway enough so that Jeffrey had to brush past her to get into the house. Reggie was denied the same treatment. She cut him off at the door, saying, “Y’all can wait in the parlor. I’ll go get Robert.”

  Jeffrey watched her go. She was teetering on heels so high that it did not seem possible she could walk in them. How she managed to accomplish the balancing act three sheets to the wind was beyond the laws of science.

  Reggie cleared his throat. He had his arms crossed over his chest like a disapproving schoolmaster. Of course he had taken Jeffrey’s appraisal of Jessie the wrong way. “She’s your best friend’s wife.”

  Jeffrey ignored him as he walked into the front parlor. Like the rest of the house, nothing had changed much here. Two long couches covered in burgundy-and-white-striped silk faced each other, a spindly coffee table between them. Wingback chairs framed a large picture window at the front of the room, facing a massive fireplace you could roast a small man in. All of the furniture looked delicate enough to fall over with a sneeze, but Jeffrey knew better. He sank into one of the couches to wait for Robert while Reggie stood at the door with the same snide look on his face.

  Jeffrey stared at the white carpet, which looked like it had been vacuumed to within an inch of its life. He could see his footprints making a pattern toward the couch, and wondered if the odor in the air was from the dead fish on Hoss’s boots or the bowl of potpourri on the coffee table. He thought again of Sara and what she was doing now. He wanted to be with her, to try to control what she was thinking, to make her believe he wasn’t a monster. If only it was within his power, he would snap his fingers and they would magically be somewhere, anywhere, other than here.

  Reggie asked, “You got a thing with the mother, too?”

  “What?” Jeffrey realized his gaze had ventured out the window to where Faith Clemmons was watering her azaleas. “Jesus Christ, Reggie. Lay off it, okay?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Or what?”

  Footsteps slowly padded down the stairs, and Jeffrey felt all the steam go out of him as Robert entered the room. He had looked bad this morning, but now he looked as if he had been hit by a truck. His shoulders were stooped and he kept one hand to his side, much the same way he had the night before.

  Jeffrey stood, not knowing what to say. He settled on “Why don’t you sit down?”

  “I’m okay,” Robert said. “Reggie, can you give us a minute?”

  “Sure,” Reggie answered, his tone slightly guarded. Still, he tipped his hat before leaving the room.

  Robert waited until the screen door had shut before he spoke. “You found her body in the cave.”

  Jeffrey was stunned by Robert’s certainty. He had not asked a question; rather, he had made a statement. Her body had been found.

  “Hoss called me,” Robert said, carefully sinking into one of the wingback chairs. “He thinks it might be some bum or something—fell and hit his head. You know it’s Julia Kendall.”

  The name brought a heaviness to the room. Jeffrey felt sweat break out on his brow despite the air conditioning. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out the necklace with the heart-shaped charm. “I found this by the bench seat.”

  Robert reached out for the necklace and Jeffrey gave it to him. Using the nail on his thumb, Robert pried the locket open and looked at the photographs. “Jesus. Julia.”

  Jeffrey looked out the window to where Faith had turned off the hose and was talking to Reggie. They were probably having a good time comparing notes on what an asshole Jeffrey was. Reggie might even be telling her about Julia. News would be around town before Jeffrey even had a chance to tell Sara. She would get the story from somebody else, somebody who would get it all wrong. He slumped back into the couch, thinking he could not take it if she looked at him again the same way she had last night.

  Robert asked, “What did you tell Sara?”

  “Nothing,” Jeffrey said, feeling remorse wash over him. That would have been the time to tell her, in the cave. He wasn’t sure if she had seen him find the necklace and put it into his pocket. He should have said something right then and there instead of acting like he was guilty of something.

  Jeffrey said, “I hid the necklace from her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve got enough people in town telling her I’m some kind of animal without proving it.”

  “What does this prove?” Robert asked, handing the necklace back to Jeffrey. No one wanted to keep the damn thing, and Jeffrey was irritated that it kept coming back to him.

  Jeffrey said, “It’s going to stir up all that shit all over again. Jesus, I hate this fucking place.”

  Robert stared at his hands. “Everyone said she just ran away.”

  “I know.”

  They were both quiet, each of them probably thinking the same thing. For Jeffrey’s part, he had a sick feeling in his gut like his life was about to turn upside down and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Robert said, “You know what they do to cops in jail?”

  Jeffrey felt his throat close. “We’re not going to jail,” he managed. “Even if they found something…some way to connect us to this…it was such a long time ago—”

  “No,” Robert said. “I’m asking you. I have no idea except what I’ve seen on television, and that’s enough to make your blood turn. What do they do to cops in jail?”

  “Robert—”

  “I’m serious, Jeffrey. What do they do to them? What should I expect?”

  Jeffrey looked at his friend maybe for the first time since the other man had entered the room. Except for a few lines around his eyes, Robert looked the same way he had in high school. He was still fit and a little lanky, but the way he slouched into the chair and bounced the heel of his shoe up and down was new. On the football field, Jeffrey ha
d known every thought going through the other man’s mind, but now he had no idea what Robert was thinking.

  Jeffrey finally asked, “What are you trying to say, Bobby?”

  “I’m not trying, I’m telling. I shot Luke. I shot him in cold blood.”

  Jeffrey was sure he had heard wrong.

  “He was having an affair with Jessie.”

  Shock stopped Jeffrey for another moment. “What are you—”

  Robert’s tone was matter-of-fact, like he was talking about killing ants in his garden instead the death of another human being. “I went to the store to pick up some things, then I came home and found them together. He was…shit, I guess you know what he was doing with her.”

  It was too much; Jeffrey couldn’t handle anything else today. “Robert, why are you saying this? It’s not true.”

  “I got out my gun and shot him.” He shook his head. “Not like that. I saw them first, then I went back to get my gun. I came back into the room and Jessie screamed. I asked them what the hell they were doing. He tried to make excuses and I just pulled the trigger.”

  Jeffrey stood up. “Don’t say anything else to me.”

  “His head…it just exploded.”

  “Robert, shut the fuck up. You need a lawyer.”

  “I don’t need a lawyer,” he said. “I need something to wipe this out of my mind. I need something that’ll help me forget what it was like seeing his head just—”

  “Robert,” Jeffrey interrupted, making his voice firm. “You don’t need to tell me this.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I do. I’m confessing. There wasn’t a break-in. The second piece is my backup. I used it to shoot myself. Sara knows, she saw where I held the gun. Jesus, that was stupid, but I did it. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t have a lot of time. The lights were already turning on next door. You get called out on these things as a cop and you think, ‘Christ, what a fucking idiot,’ but the truth is when it happens to you, you don’t have time to think. Maybe it’s shock or fear or some kind of stupid thing that just kicks in, but you make mistakes. You don’t want to get caught, but you can’t think how not to.” He indicated the chair. “Sit down, Jeffrey. You’re making me nervous.”

  Jeffrey sat. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because it’s not right,” he answered. “I talked to Hoss this morning, gave him my statement just like I told you last night. It’s like back when we were in school. Any old story we reel out, he bites.”

  “He doesn’t know any of this?”

  “No, I wanted to tell you first. I owed you that much.”

  “Robert,” Jeffrey said, thinking the man had done him no great favor. Despite the sense it made, Jeffrey could not believe the story. He had grown up with this man, spent countless hours listening to records with him, talking about girls, planning the cars they were going to buy when they turned sixteen.

  Robert said, “I’ve got to take responsibility for my actions. That man is dead because of me, because I couldn’t control myself—all my anger and hatred and…everything. It just came up to the surface and the next thing I knew, he was dead on the floor.” He started to tear up. “I killed him. He’s dead. He was screwing my wife and I killed him.”

  Jeffrey pressed his fingers into his temples, not knowing what to say.

  “Did you know Jessie had a miscarriage a few months ago?”

  Jeffrey tried to talk past the lump in his throat. “No.”

  “Would’ve been a boy. How do you like that? It’s the one thing that would have finally made her happy, and God just wouldn’t let it happen.”

  Jeffrey doubted seriously anything could make Jessie happy, but he still said, “I’m sorry.”

  “It was my fault,” Robert said. “Something about me…I don’t know, Slick. Something about me never works for her. I’m just poison.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I’m not a good man. I’m not a good husband.” He gave a heavy sigh. “I’ve never been a good husband. People stray for all kinds of reasons, I guess, but in the end…” He looked up. “I haven’t been much of a friend to you.”

  “That’s not true,” Jeffrey repeated.

  Robert just stared at Jeffrey, a kind of despair on his face. He slumped back farther in the chair as if he did not have the strength to sit up. He kept staring at Jeffrey, his eyes moving back and forth like he was reading a book.

  “It was me,” Robert finally said. “It was all me. I killed Swan and I killed Julia, too.”

  Jeffrey felt like all the breath had been sucked from his lungs.

  “All that other stuff—I did that, too.

  “No, you didn’t,” Jeffrey insisted. What the hell was he talking about? There was no way Robert had killed anybody.

  “I used a rock to hit her in the head,” Robert told him. “It was pretty quick.”

  “You didn’t do that,” Jeffrey said, either anger or fear making his voice waver. This was just too much. “Everyone thought she ran away. You said it yourself less than five minutes ago.”

  “I lied,” he countered. “I’m telling you the truth now. I threw the rock in the abandoned quarry. You’ll never be able to find it, but my confession should be good enough.”

  “Why are you saying this?”

  He stood up, wincing from the pain in his side. “Go get Reggie.”

  “I won’t. Not until you tell me why you’re lying.”

  Robert knocked on the window and motioned Reggie inside. “I want Reg to take me in.”

  “That’s not—”

  “It’s better this way, Slick. Simpler. Now we’ve got everything tied up all neat. It’s finally over and done with.” Robert wiped his eyes. “Look at me crying like a girl.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Reggie sees me like this he’ll think I’m some kind of pansy.”

  “Fuck Reggie,” Jeffrey said, just as the deputy walked in. Reggie’s eyebrow shot up, but for once, he kept his mouth shut.

  Robert held out his hands to the deputy. “You need to cuff me.”

  Reggie looked back and forth between the two men. “This some kind of stupid joke?”

  “I killed Luke Swan last night,” Robert said, putting his hand in his front pocket. For some reason, Jeffrey’s first thought was that he was going to pull out some type of weapon. Instead, Robert showed them a spent bullet.

  Reggie examined the casing. “Federal,” he noticed, just like the bullets Robert had in his Glock.

  Robert told him, “It was just sticking out from his head.” He put his index finger to the area beneath his ear. “Just the tip of it, right here. You wouldn’t think a bullet would be like that, just peeking out like someone put it there, but it slid right out. I didn’t even have to pull much.”

  Reggie still wouldn’t buy it. He handed the bullet back to Robert, but Robert wouldn’t take it. “Y’all are shitting me, right?” He snorted a laugh. “This one of your practical jokes, Bubba? You trying to get me in trouble with Hoss again?”

  “Stop dicking around, boy,” Robert demanded, his tone harder than Jeffrey had ever heard it. Robert was Reggie’s superior, and he was giving him an order when he said, “Cuff me and read me my rights. Do it by the book.”

  Jessie came in, her drink topped off to the rim. “Y’all want something to…” Her voice trailed off as for once she noticed that she was not the center of some drama. Her eyes locked onto Robert’s, and in the split second before she managed to control herself, she looked terrified. She recovered quickly, but still put her hand to the doorjamb like she needed something to keep her from falling over. “What did you tell them?”

  Robert’s eyes watered again, and his voice was full of regret as he said, “The truth, baby. I told them the truth.” Again, he held out his hands to Reggie. “Luke Swan was having an affair with my wife. I came home and found them together, and I shot him.” He shook his hands. “Come on, Reggie. Get it over with.”

  Jessie murmured, “Oh, Jesus.”

  Robert said, “Cuff me.
”

  Reggie put his hand to the back of his belt, but he did not get his handcuffs. “I’m not cuffing you,” he said. “I’ll take you to the station to talk to Hoss, but no way I’m putting handcuffs on you.”

  “Reggie, I’m ordering you.”

  “No fucking way,” Reggie said. “Not that I wouldn’t love to see you riding in the back of my car, but I ain’t gonna have Hoss come down on me for something you did.” He added, “Not this time, anyway.”

  “You need to do this by the book,” Robert told him.

  Reggie would not relent. “I’ll go crank up the car, let it cool down a little. You come out when you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now,” Robert said. When Jeffrey moved to follow them, he held up his hand. “No, Jeffrey. Let me do this alone.”

  Jessie was still in the doorway, and Robert had to pass his wife to leave. Jeffrey watched as Robert kissed her cheek, saw the way Jessie flinched away from his touch, try as she might to pretend she wasn’t. Jeffrey wanted to grab her and shake her, to throw her to the ground and throttle the life out of her, for treating Robert this way. There was no way he had killed a man. Jeffrey did not buy it. Something was not right here.

  Still, when Robert asked Jeffrey, “Look after Jess for me, will you?” Jeffrey nodded.

  He told Robert, “I’ll be up at the station later.”

  “Jess,” Robert said. “Give him the keys to my truck.” He managed a sad smile. “I don’t guess I’ll be needing it for a while.”

  “Don’t say anything to them, not even Hoss,” Jeffrey coached. “We need to find you a lawyer.”

  Robert left the room without responding. Seconds later, the screen door popped shut.

  “Well,” Jessie said, then took a long drink. The glass had been nearly full when she started and she had left little more than the ice cubes. Jeffrey watched her throat work as she drank it all down, wondering how she could appear to be so calm with her husband on the way to being charged with murder.

  Jessie sucked an ice cube into her mouth before dropping it back into the glass. “This must be the best day of that old hick’s life.” She waited for Jeffrey to say something, but he did not oblige. “Reggie’s been waiting like a hawk lo these many years, looking for the day Robert stumbled. I’m sure he’s planning on swooping in tomorrow and getting that promotion that has so long eluded him.”