And There He Kept Her (Ben Packard #1)(74)
“Shannon, enough. Don’t be sorry,” he said.
***
Dan Gherlick was standing outside the room, leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone with one hand. Somehow he looked like he had aged since Packard had gone in. “What do you know now?” Dan asked.
“More than I knew before, but not what I was hoping for.”
He quickly gave Dan a summary of Shannon’s confession. “She gave Sam the names of the people who came in to get prescriptions for pain pills. He or Jesse would break into their house to steal it. She gave him someone’s name a week ago right before those kids disappeared but she can’t remember who.”
Dan looked like more weight had been added to the yoke around his neck. “I hate that drugs and alcohol and thievery are all you know of our family,” he said. “I’ll do what I can with Shannon in the time remaining. The van comes to pick her up first thing tomorrow. The program is sixty days. No contact with the outside for the first thirty.”
“You’d be smart to keep her and Patty separated, especially if Patty resists getting help.”
Dan nodded knowingly. “I appreciate the advice. It’s a lot to manage on top of having to plan my son’s funeral—”
His voice cracked and he looked away for a moment. It struck Packard how tears could suddenly make a man look like a boy again.
Dan said, “I have to plan my son’s funeral and then I’m going to see about getting Patty into treatment. If there’s anything I can do to help find those kids, let me know.”
Packard put his hand out and they shook. “Push Shannon to try to remember the name she gave Sam. That’ll be the biggest help.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was close to midnight as Emmett raced his white Cadillac down the empty roads leading to Carl’s house. The big moon was plastered to the cracked windshield like a sales flyer. On the radio a man talked in a hushed tone as if he were broadcasting from a hiding spot and trying not to be overheard. We know for a fact that the government and the extraterrestrials are using secret tunnels to go between an underground military base and the inter-dimensional portal near Sedona. Hikers have reported being threatened by soldiers with M-16s patrolling the perimeter. How much more of this are we going to allow before we rise up and demand answers from our elected officials?
The Cadillac was the first thing Emmett bought for himself after Myra left. The previous owner had put it in the ditch and bent the frame. Carl bought it from the insurance company for scrap, then had his guys straighten the frame well enough to drive and put a new radiator in it. He sold it to Emmett without a title for slightly more than he had in it.
At first, Emmett saw the Cadillac as a symbol of his freedom and his new life. Over time it became one more thing that he didn’t take care of. It had rusty rocker panels and missing chrome trim. Someone stole the hood ornament. The hinge that kept the driver’s side of the bench seat upright broke after a few years of Emmett’s punishing weight. Now it stayed propped up thanks to a pipe-and-steel-plate brace he’d welded together to fit in the foot well behind him.
Emmett killed his headlights as he approached Carl’s property. The land, more than twenty acres, had been cleared of trees years ago and was nearly naked all the way to the property line. The house was a rambler with a shaded front porch and three garage stalls.
Emmett crossed the gravel driveway that bridged the ditch and pulled up in front of the third garage door. A red Ford F-450 with a Dynamic towing hoist was parked in front of the garage stall closest to the front door. Already Carl was fucking things up. The stupid sonofabitch had a flatbed tow truck at his shop. Why not bring that one so they could throw a tarp over the car?
Emmett got out and felt the bite from the night air. He’d left the house in a mishmash of clothes put together for comfort and warmth: a stocking cap in yellow wool that looked like a bottle nipple, a red-and-black flannel coat that was too small to close around the middle of him, sweats with the elastic around the ankles cut off, and his smashed-flat house shoes.
Almost immediately Carl came out of the front door with a cigarette in his mouth, dressed in a Carhartt jacket, dirty jeans, and steel-toe boots. He was carrying gloves and keys and a bottle of Coke. His cheek was swollen where the girl had hit him with the chain.
They didn’t bother with hellos. Carl got behind the wheel of the wrecker and watched as Emmett tried to haul himself up into the cab. It took him three tries.
Carl just shook his head. “Let’s get this fucking over with,” he said.
***
The moon was at Emmett’s back now as he smoked and watched the front end of the wrecker swallow the yellow lines in the road. He’d made a silent checklist of the night’s activities in his head so he could cross things off as they were done. Drive to Carl’s. Drive back home. Load the car. Dump the car. Drive home. Only one down and it was almost 1:00 a.m. They had a long night ahead of them.
“How come you didn’t get the flatbed?” he asked when he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
Carl looked at him as if he’d heard the part Emmett had left unsaid. How come you didn’t get the flatbed, you dumbfuck?
“Flatbed went on a call today and still has two cars loaded on it. Not enough notice to get it unloaded for tonight. I had to have one of the guys from the shop drive this out to my place and drive Frankenstein home to save us a trip going into town.”