Chat - Archer Mayor [48]
But Beth Ann shook her head emphatically. “No. It was prison that did it. That was a bad time. He said it changed everything. When he was in the dumps, that’s all he talked about, how it ruined his getting along with his family, or being comfortable with other people. I had to be real careful what I said to him afterward, ’cause he would, like, almost disappear right in front of me.” She paused before adding, “That’s when he’d go to that apartment. I was never sure what to do then. Wait for him to come back or go after him and try to get him out.”
She leaned forward in her seat and pressed her hands against her eyes. Sam pulled into a parking space and placed her palm on the other woman’s back. Beth Ann wasn’t crying, but she was silent for a long time.
Then she said through her hands, “I feel like I could’ve stopped it. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“It’s not your fault, Beth Ann,” Sam said softly, feeling a sudden kinship. “I live with a man who gets down like that, and disappears into himself to work through it. And I’m not always sure he will.”
Beth Ann looked at her gratefully. “Really?”
“It’s tough. And lonely. They get so lost, they can’t see you standing right in front of them.”
She was nodding. “That’s it. It was so frustrating. I couldn’t make him understand that it didn’t need to be that hard.”
“My guy has a lot of ancient history to fight,” Sam said. “What was Andy wrestling with?”
Beth Ann’s straight and simple answer caught Sam off guard. “He was raped in prison.”
“Jesus,” she muttered, remembering not just what Dave Snyder had said about Andy’s lapse into depression partway through his jail term, but how Andy hadn’t been able to stay working for his family in Thetford afterward.
“He couldn’t get over it,” Beth Ann said softly.
Sammie stared out the window thoughtfully, reflecting on what had happened to Leo’s car.
“He may not have been the only one,” she said.
Bart148: what do u do 4 fun?
AnnGee: not much. U?
Bart148: u hav a bf?
AnnGee: yeah
Bart148: u dont hav fun with him?
AnnGee: sometimes
Bart148: what kind?
AnnGee: u know
Bart148: tell me
AnnGee: stuff. movies. music
Bart148: u sound bored
AnnGee: a little
Bart148: u super tite with him?
AnnGee: no
Bart148: u could do better
AnnGee: I lik that
Bart148: me 2. maybe we could make that happen
Chapter 12
Joe stuck a finger in his ear and pressed the cell phone tighter to the side of his head. “A Taser tag?”
He was standing near the entrance of the hospital cafeteria, unsure if cell phones were as taboo here as they were elsewhere in the building. In any case, it wasn’t working very well.
Sam was telling him, “Yeah. Willy found it in the first guy’s motel room—Norman Rockwell. Lester’s calling him Wet Bald Rocky so we can tell him apart from Dry Hairy Fred. Anyhow, we called the company and traced the serial number on the tag to a shipment of Taser cartridges sent to the Burlington PD.”
“You saying a cop Tasered Rockwell?”
A group of people, laughing and talking loudly, passed by, burying Sam’s response. Joe had come both to depend on cell phones and to hate them with a passion, especially since reception across most of Vermont was rotten.
“What?” he asked.
“I said all we know is that the cartridge was sent there. I have no idea who ended up with it. Maybe it was stolen.”
Joe pulled out his notepad and pen, cradling the phone awkwardly. “Okay. Give me the serial number. I can shoot up to Burlington and find out.”
Sam complied before asking, “You at the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
“Is everything okay?”
“He’s hanging in there.”
“What about the car? You find what you were after?”
“Yeah. Now we’re looking into a computer we found at the garage. I’m going to the sheriff’s department next to find out what they’ve got.”
“Well,” Sam said after a small pause, “good luck.”
“Thanks,” Joe answered her, adding, “Nice job on the tag.”
“Let’s see if it means anything first,” she cautioned before hanging up.
Joe dropped the phone into