Bull Mountain(12)
“Misguided.” Clayton chewed on the word. “That’s one way of saying it.”
Kate shifted gears. “You remember my appointment is Tuesday, right?”
“Huh?”
“My appointment,” she repeated.
“Oh, right. Of course.” Clayton warmed up to her a little in an attempt to stifle his cynicism about the “appointment.” It wouldn’t be the first time in the past decade they got their hopes up just to be disappointed. Parenthood didn’t seem to be in the cards for them, and they were about out of time.
She lifted her head to look at him. “Where are you, Clayton?”
“I’m right here, baby.”
“No, you’re not. Your body’s here, but your head’s somewhere else. You’ve been staring up at those rafters for almost an hour like they’re fixing to come crashing down.”
“They might be, Kate.”
Kate looked up at the rafters, too.
“You want to talk about it?”
“I do, but I’m not sure you’re gonna want to hear about it.”
“Try me.”
Clayton ran his fingers through her damp hair and let his hand rest at her neck. Her skin always felt warm as a fever and softer than spun cotton.
“A federal came to my office today, wanting to talk about Halford. They’re going to try to take down the mountain.”
“Again?” Her tone was low and cautious. It always was when talk of Clayton’s family started up.
“Yeah, again.”
“And they want your help?”
“Sort of. This guy, Holly, doesn’t want information. They already seem to know everything they need to know. According to this guy, they don’t even want Hal.”
“So what’s the story?”
“They want his connection. Some guy in Jacksonville.”
“Florida?”
“Yeah, he runs some kind of biker gang. The feds think if they can shut these guys in Jacksonville down, they stop the flow of meth off the mountain as a bonus.”
“So why are they up here talking to you? Shouldn’t they be in Florida, making that happen?”
Clayton didn’t have time to answer before she figured it out herself.
“They want your brother to flip,” she said.
“Yup. They think he can be persuaded to give the guy up. If he does, they leave him be. That simple.”
“Do you really think he’d do that?”
“No. No, I don’t.”
“But they want you to try and convince him anyway?”
“That’s the gist of it, yeah.”
Kate rolled over onto her back, leaving Clayton’s bare chest cold and wet. “We’ve been down this road before, Clayton. There’s no convincing that man of anything. He’s crazy. You know that.”
“You’re right, unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless he thinks it could benefit him.” Clayton sat up and faced her. “Listen, he doesn’t need the money. Hell, he never has. He’s probably got millions buried in coffee cans all over this mountain. If I told him he could finally stop looking over his shoulder, maybe he’d consider it.”
“Wait a minute.” Kate sat up, too. “You’re not seriously thinking of doing this thing, are you?” Kate backed away from Clayton to study his expression.
“Well, yeah. Maybe. This could be my last chance to save him.”
“Please, Clayton, your brother is a murderer and a drug dealer. He doesn’t need saving. He’s beyond saving.”
“It’s not his fault.”
“Don’t start with the it’s-the-way-he-was-raised routine. I thought we agreed on this. You were raised by the same man he was, and you don’t sell poison to children.”
“You asked me to talk about this, remember?”
“Well, I think I changed my mind.”
“Listen, Kate. The few times I’ve seen him since Buck was killed, he looked, I don’t know, different. Older. Tired. I think Buck’s dying might have changed him somehow.”
“He threatened to kill you at Buckley’s funeral.”
“He was grieving.”
“You were grieving. Mike was grieving. Big Val was grieving. He was just drunk and hateful.”
“People grieve in different ways. He’s alone up there now, running things by himself.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know my brother. He doesn’t trust anybody.”
“But you think he’ll trust you?”
“I’m his brother.”
“And you think he cares about that?”
“I think he knows I’m the only blood kin he’s got left, and at the end of the day, I think that’s all he’ll care about. He still carries the weight of Deddy’s death on him. Maybe I can convince him to retire. He can just live up there, hunt, drink his shine, and give this outlaw bit a rest. Right now he thinks that can never be an option. If he thinks it can be, he might just set the whole thing down like a sack of bricks. No more looking over his shoulder for the next federal sting. No more worrying about being killed by tweekers looking to rob him.”