Liars table, p.22
Liars' Table, page 22
Had I not tried hard enough?
And why had I allowed him to go to Knoxville with me to retrieve the car? Why did I even care so much about the car in the first place?
If we hadn’t gone, we never would’ve met the tattooed man. We never would’ve found the money.
And then I’d made everything worse by foolishly giving the money to the nursing home and the church. If I hadn’t done that, I could have returned it to the tattooed man. He would still be alive. And maybe C.J. would be too.
Everything was my fault.
I blinked back the tears in my eyes, bringing the yellow lines on the road back into focus. A farmer waved from his seat in his tractor as he worked his field of late-summer corn. A murder of crows settled onto a power line above my head and cawed to each other.
Rudy the Roach was coming. I had missed the meeting with him, so he would kill me. If that put an end to this mess, then fine. The men of the Liars’ Table would be sad for a few days, but they would continue without me. Our empty seats would be filled by others. Bobby would be retiring soon.
And Shelby? Teresa and the rest of the staff at the nursing home would take care of her. She would probably never realize I stopped coming. She probably didn’t know I came now.
That left Wyatt. He was my responsibility. His life had been such a mess, all because of my own issues years ago. Whatever Shelby had done, she did because of my weakness. He had grown into a good man, had a whole life to look forward to, and the strength to do it.
He needed to pack his few belongings and leave. Right now. Disappear. He could start his life over somewhere else. The money we had pooled to give to the tattooed man would provide him with a start. Wyatt’s ability to work with his hands would give him everything else.
His roots weren’t in Millerton anyway. He’d never lived here before his mother died. He would be better off somewhere else. At least he would be alive.
I was resolved. I would help Wyatt pack and leave. I’d drive out to the nursing home for one last dinner with Shelby. I would distract Rudy the Roach long enough to give Wyatt a head start. Then I would die.
The church came into view. A couple of days hence, mourners would gather to say goodbye to C.J. I hated to miss it. But maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe there would be a double funeral. My own casket could be beside my friend’s.
Wyatt’s car waited in its familiar space in the driveway. The rocking chairs and hammock sat empty. Belle stretched in her usual spot in the shade under the tree, napping in the afternoon heat.
I shut off the engine and looked around the yard. I wanted to cry for C.J., but I didn’t have the time. Wyatt would resist, but he had to leave. We could have him packed in fifteen minutes.
I paused. He should have heard me pull in. Dread settled over me, though I told myself I was overreacting. My hand shook as I opened the door and got out of my car.
“Wyatt?”
The wind rattled the maple tree’s branches, hinting of a possible thunderstorm to rumble over the ridge later in the evening. An eagle screeched as it soared over the field, searching for an errant mouse or rabbit. Smaller birds chirped as they flitted through the air. Belle’s snores provided a rhythmic undertone. But no reply came from Wyatt. Concern mounting, I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered, “Wyatt!”
Belle started at the noise. She raised her head. Her tail thumped the ground. When I didn’t go to her, she stood and stretched, a yawn spreading across her face. She waddled across the yard in her unsteady, old-dog gait. She nuzzled my leg and pawed my foot for attention. I reached down and scratched behind her ears. “Where’s Wyatt, girl?”
She padded across the yard and squatted to pee in a grassy patch. She climbed the steps to the porch and took a drink from the bucket of water filled fresh daily. With a glance over her shoulder to see if I was following, she wandered through the open front door and disappeared inside.
Wyatt wouldn’t leave the door ajar. He often griped about the gnats and flies of summer living. His tools, though, were stacked neatly on the porch. He had promised to repair the door when he got home from work. Maybe, I told myself, he just hadn’t heard me yet.
With fear clenching my stomach, I crossed the yard and stood at the front door. Only silence emanated from the house. With a trembling voice, I called out, “Wyatt?”
Belle flopped down on her bed, but no other sound came back. I couldn’t see any movement in the shadows. I knew what it meant but refused to accept it. Instead, I stepped through the doorway into the stuffy interior. Wyatt’s cell phone, wallet, and keys sat on the small kitchen table. The recliner and couch in the den were empty. The TV was off.
Desperate to deny the reality, I climbed the steps to the second floor, glancing into the bedrooms we had never used as I went down the quiet hallway. His door at the end of the hall was open. The room was dark and vacant. In his bathroom, the shower curtain hung open. Nothing was big enough to hide in, not that he was likely to be playing hide-and-seek.
“Wyatt?”
The curtain flapped in the open window, the loudest sound in the room. I spun on my heel and returned to the kitchen. The search was useless, but I walked through the empty house again anyway. Denial is powerful. Only a loud ringing stopped me.
Wyatt’s phone vibrated on the kitchen table. I waited for him to race into the room and snatch up the device, but I knew he wouldn’t. When he didn’t appear, I inched over and looked at the lighted screen. Unknown caller.
The ringing stopped before I could pick it up. The screen went dark. I waited, unsure what to do. My mind raced. I wanted to call C.J. for help, but that was impossible.
The phone bounced again. The ringing had returned. Unknown Caller announced itself. I picked up the phone, pressed the answer button, and stuck it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Purvis Webb.” The voice was flat, emotionless. Rudy. “You missed our meeting.”
The world slipped under my feet. Unable to remain standing, I sat down hard in a chair. “I’m sorry.”
“You promised. I told you what happened to people who lie to me.”
“But C.J.—”
“Croaked. Yeah, I heard. Wyatt told me you had called him from the hospital with the unsettling news. We’ve been having such a nice little chat.”
My throat went dry. The words were stuck. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“Where’s my money?” The voice was cold, lifeless.
“I don’t have it.”
“Well, that’s a big problem.”
The hum on the line echoed in my brain. I grasped any hope. “I’ll get it. I don’t know how, but I’ll get it. I need time.”
“That’s one thing you don’t have.” A humorless chuckle came over the phone. “Well, maybe you do. But Wyatt doesn’t.”
“Please.” I hated the sound of my voice begging. It reminded me too much of Gene the night before, but what else could I do?
“I had hoped to convince young Wyatt to come work for me once we got this unfortunate matter resolved. I have an opening, you know. I was always told he had such talent.” The line hissed and popped. “But there’s no room in my organization for someone I don’t trust. If you don’t have the money, I might as well get this over with.”
“No! Wait!”
I closed my eyes and waited on the sound of a gun. Instead, Rudy’s voice replied, “Why?”
“I’ll get it. Somehow. Give me a week.”
“Tonight.”
“More time. Please.”
“Same as last night. Coogan’s Cove. Nice private place you have there. Nine o’clock. You can join Gene. If you don’t show up, Wyatt will die.”
I inhaled, my mind racing. I started to protest, but the line went dead.
Impossible. I would never get my hands on the money that fast. Without it, my choices were limited.
Rudy knew it too. He only wanted a meeting for one reason. If I went to Coogan’s Cove empty-handed and tried to reason for more time, he would kill me. And then he would kill Wyatt. The only other scenario was that he killed Wyatt before I got there, but I thought he would wait.
If I didn’t go? If I got into my car and disappeared? Wyatt would die. I would spend the rest of my days thinking of him and missing Shelby.
I sat at the kitchen table with my head in my hands, thinking through my limited options.
If I went to the meeting empty-handed, Rudy would kill me and then kill Wyatt.
If I didn’t go to the meeting and ran instead, he would kill Wyatt.
If I called the sheriff and Rudy figured out police were coming, he would kill Wyatt, disappear, and then hunt me down when I least expected it.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall. Every scenario in my head ended with Wyatt’s death.
How do I solve the impossible? How do I get out of this alive?
Answer? I don’t. I have to somehow trade my life for his.
I looked at the clock above the kitchen stove. I had time. A strange thought considering I would die before midnight, but I realized how few loose ends were left in my life. If I did this right, Wyatt would be alive and free. He had his whole life in front of him. I was an old man. The choice between us was simple.
Every kitchen has a junk drawer. My house was no exception. Scissors. Tape. Paper clips. Rubber bands. Clothes pins. A screwdriver. An old key that went to something, but I could never remember what.
I removed a roll of Scotch tape, a pad of paper, and a pen. I sat down at the kitchen table and wrote:
Dear Wyatt,
If you’re reading this note, it means my plan worked. You’re sitting in my car and wondering what to do.
Start the car. Drive away. Now. Go anywhere you want except Millerton. Don’t go home. Ever. Start a new life. Disappear so Rudy can’t find you.
All your clothes and everything else from your room are in the trunk. I signed the title to my car. You can sell it if you need the money. Or keep it. It’s yours to do with it as you want.
I stopped at the ATM and took out all the money I could. I added it to the money we pooled last night. It’s in the glove compartment. I figured the bank has cameras. The police will see you didn’t rob me or anything.
I’m sorry I didn’t know you when you were growing up. I wish I could’ve patched things up with your mother. I should never have let it fall apart so badly.
At least we got a chance to spend the last few years together. You’re a strong man, and I’m proud of you. I hope you have a good, long life. You’ve earned it.
Now, go. Please.
Love,
Purvis
The paper in my hands shook as I reread the letter. I wanted to say so much more, but my whole plan hinged on Wyatt driving away. Otherwise, we would both die for nothing.
I wanted to rewrite it until it was perfect, but time didn’t allow it. I made only one change. I crossed out my name and scribbled:
Grandpa
I folded the letter and slipped it into my pocket along with the tape I would use to affix it to my steering wheel. With the first task done, I leaned back in my chair and surveyed my small house. I loved the place and hated to think of it abandoned, but it had done its job. Shelby and I had years of cooking together in the kitchen. Jessica had run around the small den and swung from a tire hanging from the maple tree. For the last few years, I had built a bond with the young man I hadn’t known existed.
Now it was just a house. Shelby would never get well enough to come home. Jessica was long dead. Wyatt needed to leave. No one else was here except for Belle.
Sensing my thoughts, the dog stood from her bed beside the fireplace, shook, and stretched. She wandered over and settled her big head onto my lap, looking at me with those big brown eyes. I scratched her ears as I debated with myself whether to put her in the car so Wyatt could take her with him. But a dog would make Rudy suspicious. And worse, he might hurt her. “Don’t worry, girl. I have a plan to take care of you too.”
I took her out to the yard for her bathroom break. Once back inside, I poured several days of food into her bowl and made sure she had plenty of water, just in case my plan failed and no one checked on her for a couple of days. The guys at the Liars’ Table would soon enough.
While she was eating, I retrieved my old duffel bag from my closet. I went into Wyatt’s room and began emptying drawers and removing clothes from hangers. There wasn’t much. I stuffed all Wyatt’s worldly possessions into the duffel bag and took another look around the room.
On the dresser was a picture frame holding the single photo of Jessica and Wyatt. The boy was little, only three or four, and the image was faded. It was the only picture he had of his mother. I gently put it on top of his clothes and closed the duffel. I slung it over my shoulder and walked to the door, taking one last look around the den. I hoped the next family had lots of children.
Belle settled onto her blanket beside the empty fireplace as if it was any other night.
“Goodbye, old girl,” I said and pulled the door closed behind me as I left.
39
When I arrived at the nursing home, I wanted to go straight inside and sit with Shelby. I had no illusions I would ever get another chance after tonight, so I yearned to spend as much time as possible with her before I had to leave. She probably wouldn’t know who I was. Even if she did, she wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. She wouldn’t remember it an hour after I left.
But I would. When Rudy did the inevitable, I would be thinking of holding her hand, listening to her talk, kissing her head, and saying goodnight. Whether she heard it or remembered it, I wanted to go to my grave having told her one more time that I loved her.
I had obligations to take care of all my loved ones. So few were left in my life, but I had to take care of the ones that were. Because I had to think of the others, I sat fidgeting in my car in the parking lot of the nursing home, watching the day-shift employees come out of the side entrance of the building in twos and threes, laughing and joking as they walked to their cars. Each time the door swung open, I held my breath, waiting on the right one, wondering if my target had the day off or was working late. I should have called first, but I wanted our conversation to appear accidental, almost an afterthought.
To my relief, Bobby appeared at the exit door with a satchel in his hand, whistling as he walked across the asphalt. When he was only a few car lengths away, I got out of my car, trying to look as casual as possible. Our eyes met, and I acted surprised to bump into him.
“Headed in for your dinner date?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah. Never miss.”
“Almost did. Food carts are already making their rounds. You’re running later than normal.”
“Got busy and lost track of time.” The lie slipped easily from my lips.
“Busy?” Bobby raised an eyebrow. “I can’t wait until I retire. Sitting around with the rest of you, shooting the breeze at Abe’s and then fishing all day.” His eyes went wide, and his face paled. “Oh my God. I’m such an idiot. I heard this afternoon about what happened to C.J. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand in dismissal. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“More money to give away?”
“No. Nothing like that.” I kicked at a pebble in the parking lot, nervous about his reaction to my question. “You have a couple of old hounds, right?”
Puzzlement spread across Bobby’s face. “Yeah?”
“You know I have one too.”
“Belle? She’s not sick, is she?”
“No. She’s fine. Just old, but she’s a good dog. I was just wondering…” I swallowed and raised my eyes. Time to plunge ahead. “C.J. and I had a deal. If anything ever happened to me, he’d take her and make sure she lived a good life. With him gone…”
“You want me to take her if something happens to you?”
“Yeah.”
Bobby cocked his head. “What about Wyatt? Wouldn’t it be easier on her to stay in the house with him?”
Good question. I had been so focused on my plan, I hadn’t even thought about others not understanding everything. Maybe this gave me an opportunity to plant seeds to explain Wyatt’s pending disappearance. Lemonade out of lemons. “He’s finished with his apprenticeship and has his electrician’s license. Lots of building going on, and he’s had job offers. Out of town. Since he didn’t grow up here, those bigger cities appeal to him. Anyway, we’ve talked a lot about it, and he’s probably moving soon. Might even happen this week.”
“Isn’t he going to C.J.’s funeral?”
So many questions. So many good ones. Why hadn’t I planned out this conversation better? “You know how jobs go. If he doesn’t take it right away, it might not be there.”
“Yeah, I understand.” Bobby nodded, but his eyes were clouded with doubt. “Of course I’ll take Belle if Wyatt isn’t around. I love dogs. You know that.”
“I do. That’s why I asked. Thanks.”
I turned to walk away, but Bobby’s hand on my elbow stopped me. “You’re okay, aren’t you? You look kind of tired. You aren’t sick or something?”
“I’m fine.”
Bobby looked around the parking lot to make sure we were alone. He lowered his voice. “It’s just asking me to take care of Belle and then giving away the money the other day. Those are the kinds of things someone does if they think they aren’t going to be around long.”
“No, nothing like that.”
“We see that here. People come and just give up. Some even try to speed things along. With C.J. dying and Wyatt leaving, I know that’s a lot on you. If you need something…”
He thought I was suicidal, and I wanted to protest how untrue that was, but wasn’t I? I was going to offer to trade my life for Wyatt’s. What else would you call that but suicide? The lying was getting complicated. I put on my best smile and hoped it look real. “I’m fine. Tired, yeah, and sad, but I’m okay. With C.J. dying and Wyatt moving, just made me realize I needed to make sure Belle was okay if something happened to me.”
