A Grant County Collection Page 32

  He repeated, almost to himself, 'I really did love her.'

  Sara stared at the gun as if she could will it into her hand. She tried to fight the tremor in her voice when she said, 'You say that like you don't anymore.'

  'I don't know what went wrong.' He gave a weak smile. 'What tells you in your heart that you love Jeffrey?'

  'I don't know,' Sara answered, unable to take her eyes off the gun. Finally, she forced herself to look at him, saying, 'Robert, please. Don't leave me like this. I can't do it. I can't take it.'

  'You'll be okay.'

  'Not like this,' she said. 'Please. I'm begging you.'

  'Tell me what it is that makes you love Jeffrey,' Robert asked, as if striking some sort of bargain. 'What is it that makes you know?'

  'I don't know.'

  'Come on,' he said, and she realized that he was trying to help her calm down so that it would be easier for him to do what he needed to do.

  'I don't know,' she repeated. 'Robert –'

  'Has to be something,' he said, giving her a forced smile, as if they were a couple of good people brought together under bad circumstances. 'Don't tell me it's his sense of humor and great personality.'

  Sara racked her brain for something to tell him. There had to be a right answer, an answer that would make him free her from the chair and let her go, but she could think of nothing to say.

  'You don't know?'

  She told him the only thing she could think of. 'It's the little things. That's what Nell says it is with Possum – the little things.'

  'Yeah?'

  'Yeah,' she echoed, trying to keep her panic down, trying to remember what Nell had said. Sara's voice sounded muted in her ears, as if she was talking underwater. 'He's always home when he says he'll be and he doesn't mind going to the grocery store for her.'

  Robert gave a sad smile as he stood. 'Maybe I should've gone to the grocery store for Jessie.'

  Sara felt her brain trying to make a connection but she could not understand why. Still, her mouth kept talking. 'I'm sure you did sometimes.'

  He spooled out an extra-long strip of tape, using his teeth to tear it, letting the roll drop to the floor. 'Never did,' he told her, wrapping the tape around her chest and upper arms, fixing her back flat to the chair. 'She said she liked doing that stuff. Made her feel like she was taking care of me.'

  'You never went to the grocery store?' Sara asked. Something Jeffrey had told her the night before clicked into place, and she felt an eerie sort of calmness spread over her.

  He looked around for the tape. 'Damn,' he said, wincing as he knelt down in front of the bed. He put his hand to his stomach where he had been shot. 'Rolled under the bed,' he told her, bracing his hand against the mattress as he bent to retrieve the tape.

  'You never went to the store for her?' Sara repeated, watching him kneel in front of the bed. His hand was still on the mattress, and in her mind she saw the bloody outline around Luke Swan's hand on the bed.

  'Never went to the store,' he assured her, sitting back up, breathing heavily. 'Shit, that hurt.'

  Despite the fact that she could not move, Sara suddenly felt herself gaining some control over the situation. 'Did she drive your truck much?'

  'That's a funny question,' he said, but still answered, 'Yeah. She hated to, but if I parked behind her in the driveway, it was easier than backing them both out.'

  Sara strained her wrist against the tape, trying to see if there was any give, saying, 'It wasn't you who went out to the store that night, was it, Robert? It was Jessie. She went in your truck.'

  He stretched out another long piece of tape. He would not look at her, and instinctively she knew that he wanted her to continue.

  'The night Luke was shot,' she said, almost dreading his answer. 'Sunday. Was Jessie in your truck on Sunday?'

  The strip was too long and the tape had folded on itself. He tried to pick it apart. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

  'Jessie was in your truck,' Sara told him, more sure of herself now. 'She went to the grocery store that night. There was milk and juice in your refrigerator. I saw the grocery list in your truck.'

  He continued to pick at the tape as if it could be saved.

  'If it was Jessie who went to the store, then it was Jessie who came home. You told the truth, but you swapped things around. It was Jessie who came home, and it was you –' She stopped, astonished. 'It was you in the bedroom,' she said. 'You were with Luke Swan, not Jessie.'

  Robert gave a forced laugh, giving up on the strip of tape and wadding it into a ball.

  Sara continued to press, still certain of what had happened. 'You were on the floor, kneeling in front of the bed.'

  'Maybe one will be enough,' he said, picking up the roll of tape.

  'Was Luke behind you when he was shot?'

  He tore off a four-inch strip. 'I'm going to have to cover your mouth.'

  She fought back her fear, needing to know the truth. 'Just tell me what happened, Robert. You didn't kill him. I know you didn't kill him. Was it Jessie? Did she find you? Robert, you have to tell someone. You can't just leave it like this.'

  He started to put the tape over her mouth, but stopped at the last minute. Sara stared at him as he tried again, but something would not let Robert cover her mouth.

  He walked back a few steps, sitting on the bed with obvious discomfort. He held the tape in his hands, cradling it like he was afraid it would explode.

  Sara forced herself to speak gently, not knowing how far she could push him. She asked, 'You were with Luke that night, weren't you?'

  Robert stared at his hands, his silence enough of an answer to keep her going.

  'Did Jessie know before that night?' She paused, then asked, 'Robert?'

  He slowly shook his head. 'I tried so hard with her,' he finally said. 'She was the only woman in the world I thought I could be a husband to.' He looked out the window into the backyard. Sara wondered if he was thinking of family barbecues and picnics, playing catch with the son he could never have. 'She was supposed to be gone for a while,' Robert continued. 'Said she was going to her mama's, then to the grocery store, like she did every Sunday night.'

  'What happened?'

  'She got into a fight with her mama.' He let out a weary sigh. 'She came home early, had time enough to put up all the groceries. Some kind of cop I am, huh? Didn't even hear her in the kitchen.'

  'Did she walk in on you?'

  'She thought I was still over at Possum's watching the game.'

  'Did she walk in on you?' Sara repeated.

  'I kept it hidden,' he said, still not answering her question. 'I kept it hidden for all these years.' He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. 'I made a deal with God. I promised Him I wouldn't do it anymore if He would give Jessie a baby.' He dropped his hand. 'That's all we needed, see, was to be a family. I would've been a good father.'

  Obviously, he expected some sort of confirmation, because he looked away when Sara would not give it. 'God just knew better than to let it happen. Maybe He knew I couldn't hold up my end of the bargain.'

  'God doesn't make those kinds of deals.'

  'No,' he said. 'Not for men like me.'

  'Being gay doesn't make you a bad person.'

  He winced at the word.

  Sara strained her leg against the tape, trying to see if there was any chance of escape.

  'Everything I did with her turned to poison,' he said. Inexplicably, a genuine smile came to his lips. 'You know what it's like to be in love for the first time in your life?'

  Sara did not answer.

  'Dan Phillips,' he said. 'Damn, but he was beautiful. I know you wouldn't think a boy could be that way, but he had these baby-blue eyes that . . .' He put his hand to his mouth, then dropped it. 'Does that make you sick to hear?'

  'No.'

  'It made me sick,' he said. 'Julia caught us behind the gym. Hell, I never took any of her favors. Dan, neither. We didn't know that was where she met boys.' He gave a hars
h laugh. 'It was our first time. First and last.'

  'What did she do?'

  'Screamed to high fucking hell,' he said. 'I've never felt so ashamed in my life. Threw up for the next week, just thinking about how she looked at us. Like we were filth. Hell, we were filth. Dan ran off. Just left town. Couldn't take seeing my face anymore.'

  'Is that why you killed her?'

  He looked wounded, as if she had insulted him. 'If that's what you want to think, go ahead.'

  'I want to know the truth.'

  He stared at her for a beat. 'No,' he said. 'I didn't kill her. For a while, I thought Jeffrey might have, but . . .' He shook his head. 'Jeffrey didn't do it. There's probably a long list of men in this town who hated her for one reason or another, but he's not like that.'

  'You didn't rape her, either.'

  'No. That was just her way of torturing me, spreading that damn rumor. She thought I'd say what I was, try to defend myself by letting everybody know.' His face turned into a scowl. 'Like I'd do that. I'd rather die than let anybody know.'

  Sara had to ask. 'And Jeffrey?'

  'She thought I'd take up for him. Some friend I was, huh? Let people think Jeffrey raped her just to hide my secret.' He paused, making sure she was listening. 'I told you, Sara. I would rather die than have it get out.'

  He looked her in the eye when he said this, and Sara understood the threat.

  She had to keep him talking. 'Is that why you took the blame for shooting Luke?'

  Robert stared at her, silent. 'It was the same thing all over again.'

  'What was?'

  'He knew,' he said. 'Takes one to know one, I guess.'

  'Luke?'

  'I had him in the back of my car one night. Picked him up on a loitering charge down by the bowling alley.' Robert looked out the window again. 'He was cold, so I gave him my jacket. One thing led to another. I don't even really remember how it happened . . . just that it felt so good, and then the next day, it felt so horrible.'

  Sara could see the anguish on his face, and despite the situation, she found herself feeling sorry for him.

  'I don't know how, but he kept my letterman jacket. Maybe he stole it out of the car when I wasn't looking. Doesn't matter how he got it, but my name's on it big as day. He called me at the station the next morning. Said he was going to wear it around town, tell everybody he was my girlfriend.' He snorted in disgust at the word. 'He kept following me around, flirting with me like a damn girl.' His jaw worked, and he stared down at his hands.

  'You could have just told him to go away,' Sara pointed out. 'No one would have believed him over you.'

  'That's not how it works here,' he said, and part of her knew that Robert was right. Gossip was currency in a small town. Even a rumor that seemed improbable had more value than the boring truth of an everyday, normal life.

  She asked, 'What happened, Robert?'

  He took his time answering, the truth more horrible to him than the lie he had been telling for the last few days. 'I was weak. I just wanted somebody to comfort me, to feel right with.' He looked back up at Sara, as if he expected her to any moment voice some kind of revulsion. 'I called him up, told him to come over. Told him I wanted him to fuck me. You like hearing that? You know what we were doing, don't you? Fucking up the ass like two fairies.'

  Sara was unfazed. 'Were you in love with him?'

  'I hated him,' he said, and she could tell by Robert's tone of voice that he really did. 'He was like holding up a mirror, looking at myself. All the ugly things about me.' Under his breath, he added, 'Fucking fairy. Faggot.'

  'Is that why you killed him?'

  A car pulled up outside and they both waited as a door was closed. Seconds later, they heard Nell's next-door neighbor go into his house and slam the door. If he noticed the dogs were missing, he did not seem to care.

  Sara prompted, 'Robert?'

  Again Robert paused before answering. 'Jessie came in on us,' he finally said. 'She heard us. The noises we were making.' He looked back at Sara as if to gauge her reaction. 'She got my gun because she thought somebody had broken into the house. Didn't even bother to call the police.' He jumped to a tangent. 'That was what the fight with Faith was about. That's why she was home early.'

  Sara waited, not understanding.

  'The fight with her mama. They were arguing because Jessie showed up stoned out of her mind. Drunk on something, taking pills, whatever. Her mama always blamed me for that even though Faith's drunk most days, out there swigging out of a flask when she's supposed to be watering the garden. That's how Jessie got through her life with me. That's how she dealt with my failures. She took pills to keep the pain back.'

  Sara heard the next-door neighbor slam his front door again. Sara waited, hoping he would come over to ask about his dogs, but the car started and she heard him reverse down the driveway.

  'Jessie meant to shoot me,' Robert told Sara, looking out the window, probably watching the neighbor head down the street. 'She pulled the trigger because she was so shocked. She didn't exactly think it through, but she meant to shoot me, not him. At least that's what she told me later. Said she was so drunk that first she thought there were two of me and I'd finally managed to go fuck myself.' He ran his tongue along his top teeth. 'I didn't even know she was there. I hear Luke saying in my ear, "Hey, how about it? You wanna join the party?" I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Later, I figured he was talking to her. Provoking her, even though he had to see she had a gun in her hand. That's what he did with people, just pushed and pushed until they were over the edge.'

  'She shot him.'

  'I was wearing my T-shirt, but . . .' His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard before continuing. 'I felt this spray on my back, like this kind of mist. I didn't hear the sound until later, like two or three seconds later. It must have been faster than that, but my brain just kind of slowed it down. You know how it does that?'

  Sara nodded. She knew from her own experience that trauma slowed things down, as if pain was something to be savored rather than endured.

  'There was this kind of pop, like a balloon or something.' He took a deep breath. 'Then he slumped against me, and I felt this wet . . .' He shook his head at the memory. 'He slid down my back.'

  Sara remembered how Robert had kept his back to the wall that night, gripping his shirt tightly in his hand. He must have been covered in blood.

  'It was so fast afterward. Slow as it was when it happened, the rest was so fast.'

  'What happened?'

  'Jessie shot at me.'

  'She missed,' Sara said, remembering the bullet hole in the wall.

  'I grabbed my backup out of the armoire. The safe wasn't even locked. After we lost the baby . . .' He shook his head, obviously not wanting to talk about that. 'I wasn't even really thinking, other than maybe wishing the bullet hadn't missed when she fired.' Robert paused. 'She stopped, like she couldn't shoot me, even though she'd seen what I was. I just stood there for maybe a second, and I could suddenly see it all – everyone finding out what had happened, finding out who I am, and I put the gun to my belly and pulled the trigger.'

  'You were lucky it didn't do more damage.'

  'It was so fast,' he repeated. 'I couldn't even think. It was like . . .' He snapped his fingers.

  Sara was quiet, hearing the snap echo like gunfire.

  'It didn't hurt much,' he added. 'I thought it would hurt, but it wasn't until later that I felt the pain.'

  'Was it Jessie's idea to say you'd done it?'

  'Hell no,' he said, and she wondered if he was telling the truth. 'She went over and grabbed a handful of pills. Spilled most of them on the floor. I just looked around, thinking, "Fuck, what can I do?"'

  'What did you do?'

  'I guess I must've known what I was going to do when I pulled the trigger, but it took a while before my brain kicked in. I picked up the gun and the casings and wiped them off. A couple'a three seconds later, I heard somebody kick open the back door.
I tossed everything on the floor, put the gun by his hand. Jeffrey came in, screaming, "What the hell happened?" He went out to get you and I told Jessie to open the window and push out the screen. First time in her life she ever did something I told her to do without asking why.'

  'What about the bullet?' Sara asked. Robert had given the bullet to Reggie when he had confessed.

  'Jessie got it out later. I don't know when, but she gave it to me. She told me exactly where she had found it in his head. Said it was my souvenir.'

  Sara knew there was only one time Jessie was alone with the body, and that was when Jeffrey and Sara were on the porch outside, waiting for Hoss. She must have sneaked in while they were arguing.

  'Jessie's a lot smarter than folks think,' Robert continued. 'When y'all got there, she just played along, acted like she was too high to follow what was going on. Me, I was freaking out. I saw all the words coming out of my mouth, making up the story, not even thinking about the parts that didn't make sense. She let me do it, just stood there, letting me feed out enough rope to hang myself.'

  'Why?' Sara asked, still not understanding. 'Why did you lie?'

  'Because I'd rather be a cold-blooded murderer than a faggot.'

  The finality of his words hung heavy in the air, and Sara had never felt more sorry for anyone in her life.

  'I'm just not right, Sara.' He paused, as if he needed time to collect himself. 'If I could get a knife and cut it out of me, I would. I'd cut out my fucking heart to be normal.'

  'You are normal,' she insisted. 'There's nothing wrong with you.'

  'It's too late.'

  'You can stop this,' she said. 'You can stop this right now. You don't have to leave. You're innocent, Robert. You didn't do any of this. None of it's your fault.'

  'All of it's my fault,' he insisted. 'I've sinned, Sara. I've sinned against God. I've broken my vows. I've been with another man. I wished him dead so many times. Jessie pulled the trigger, but I put him there. I brought him into our house. There's no going back now.'

  'You are who you are,' she told him, even as she saw there was no reasoning with him. 'You have no reason to be ashamed.'

  'Yes,' he said, picking up the gun. 'I do.'