Midnight Rambler_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [49]
“You don't have to pay me all at once,” he said.
I was tempted to take some of it back.
“Keep it,” I said.
Sonny slid a cold can of Budweiser toward me. “A reporter called for you earlier, said she wanted to talk about Melinda Peters. I've got her number in the till.”
I groaned, and everyone in the bar looked at me.
“Shitty day,” I said.
I killed the beer, then started to leave.
“Remember what the prophet said, Jack,” Whitey called out.
I stopped in the doorway. “What's that?”
“In the land of the blind, a one-eyed man will be king.”
“Hear, hear,” several of the Dwarfs said.
Climbing the stairs to my room, I wondered if Whitey was right. Perhaps I was a one-eyed man, seeing only those things I chose to see.
Joy's murder was going to haunt me. Russo would want to question me about her murder. If he didn't like my answers, he'd arrest me as a suspect. Since I couldn't post bail, I'd go to jail for a few weeks, or even longer.
Melinda's lies were also going to haunt me. Not only was Skell going to walk, but the Midnight Rambler case would be reopened. This time, the scrutiny wouldn't be focused on Skell. It would be on me, and how I'd handled the investigation.
I entered my room and switched on the light. I was in a world of trouble. So much so that I found myself counting the people I could ask for help: Kumar, Sonny, my wife, and my daughter. Not a big group, but better than nothing.
My cell phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket. Caller ID said it was Jessie. I sat on the bed and kicked off my shoes. Then I answered it.
“How's the world's best basketball player?” I answered.
My daughter was sobbing. It made my mind return to that horrible day on Hutchinson Island.
“How could you?” she wailed.
“How could I what?” I asked.
“I was in my dorm watching CNN, and they showed your photo and a photograph of some stripper. They said you were screwing her and had fabricated evidence and all sorts of horrible things. How could you do this to me and Mommy?”
“It's all lies,” I said emphatically.
“Then why are they showing it on TV?”
“It must be a slow news night.”
Jessie didn't see the humor and screamed at me. I tried to explain, but she refused to listen. Finally I hit my tolerance point and jumped in.
“Lower your voice, or I'm hanging up this phone,” I said.
My daughter grew quiet, and I continued. “Whatever you might think of me at this moment in time, I'm still your father, remember?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Good. Now, let me ask you a question. When have I ever lied to you?”
My words were met by a short silence.
“Never,” she replied.
“That's right. Never, ever have I lied to you.”
“Not that I know about,” she chimed in.
“Never, ever,” I said. “What you heard on the TV was a pack of lies.”
“But that stripper said you had an affair with her, and another woman as well.”
I could hear my teeth clench. I didn't give a rat's ass if the rest of the world thought I was slime, but with Jessie it mattered.
“None of it is true,” I said.
“You need to talk to Mom,” my daughter said. “She heard it on the news in Tampa. She's awfully upset.”
“I'll call her right now.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Daddy.”
I ended the call. Then I spent a minute gathering the courage to call Rose.
I'd always blamed myself for our breakup. My wife was from Mexico and deeply religious. In her faith, the spirits of the dead hung around long after the body was gone. Many times she'd told me that Skell's victims were clinging to me and that she couldn't compete with them. Like a fool, I didn't argue, so she left me.
I punched her number into my cell phone.
“Hey, Rose,” I said when she answered.
“Who is this?” she asked suspiciously.
“It's me. Jack.”
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
“It's too late for that.”
“No, listen. Everything you heard on TV is a bunch of crap.”
“I don't believe