The Ranger - Ace Atkins [66]
“Pride of the South,” Lillie said.
“You bet.”
“The clown’s a nice touch.”
Gowrie smiled a rotten black smile at Quinn and waved like they were old buddies. His face was red and wind-chapped, his shaved head covered with a do-rag of the ole Stars and Bars.
“You want to flush the toilet on these turds?” Quinn asked.
“I’ll grab the rope.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
“I loved your uncle. I just don’t much give a shit anymore.”
“About what?”
“The law.”
“Justice moves slow, partner,” Quinn said.
“How’s it move for a Ranger?”
“Like a scalded cat.”
“I bet your blood is boiling.”
“I want Stagg.”
“You talk to Wesley?”
Quinn nodded, Lillie’s Jeep trailing off to the north on Main, past the old general store, the Odd Fellows Hall, the Ace Hardware, and a Baptist church. Every other business had been boarded up, FOR SALE signs in their windows or nailed to the plywood over the doors. The gates to the old feed store had been padlocked for some time.
“He chewed my ass out this morning for interviewing Shackelford,” Lillie said. “Said Shackelford was a professional snitch and a liar, and I told him that sometimes liars hit a truth every once in a while. He may not be the man to put on the stand, but you got to listen to what he’s telling us. Shit.”
“We sure could have used Wesley last night.”
“He drove over to the compound but didn’t see Luke’s car,” Lillie said. “Without a warrant, there wasn’t jack he could do.”
“You on duty?”
“Sure,” Lillie said, turning the wheel gently, chewing gum, tapping her fingers on the center console. “I stay on duty. Why?”
“Let’s go see the girl.”
Lena was resting when the men walked in, three men she’d never seen before in her life. One was scrawny and craggy-faced, wearing a blue suit and a bright yellow tie. He looked like a farmer playing dress-up. The other was tanned with graying hair, in a pin-striped suit and red tie. He wore a silver watch bigger than a fist and smelled like money.
The third man nodded to her, showing the glint of a pair of gold teeth. Not dressed up, just wearing shiny khaki pants and a gold shirt with a cross on its breast. The logo read WINNERS FOR JESUS.
“Ma’am,” the craggy-faced man said. “I’m Johnny Stagg. This is Mr. Lamar, an officer of the court. And I brought along Brother Davis. Brother Davis is the pastor of the Living Waters Church here in town.”
She continued to lie on her side. The man Stagg sat without being asked, the slick lawyer and the pastor standing by the window, looking out into a small garden where she’d been watching cardinals and finches fight over a birdbath all morning. The room smelled fresh and sharp, the linoleum floors scrubbed with piney cleaners.
She noticed all the men breathed very loud but let the silences fill the room.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Lena was spent. She did not try to move from her resting spot. The nurses had brought her a hamburger and some cherry pie, and she’d devoured them.
“We heard y’all had a rough night,” Stagg said, smiling, grinning, like an old friend of the family. His teeth were plastic-looking and big as tombstones. “Thank God, you and this fine-looking baby pulled through.”
Lena just stared at him.
“We just wanted to make sure you don’t hold Mr. Gowrie responsible for your health issues,” the slick lawyer said.
“He tried to make me stay,” Lena said. “If I hadn’t gotten help, I might’ve died.”
“He was doing what was best,” Stagg said.
Lena felt a shadow over her and looked up at the face of the slick attorney. He gave her a reassuring smile and said, “Have you spoken to the police?”
“No.”
“Do you intend to?” the attorney asked. The crystal on his big watch cast the light in her eyes and made her squint for a moment.
“What do y’all want from me?”
“Are you going to call the police on Mr. Gowrie?”
“No. I mean, shit. I don’t know,” Lena said. “My baby is coming back soon. I have to feed her.”
“This is a morning of miracles,