We Begin at the End(103)



“Anyway, I made the gun a priority.”

“The blood in Darke’s place. Milton.”

“No, actually. Animal, not human.”

Walk ran a hand through his hair as he thought of Milton, hunting with Darke then heading back to his place after. “Deer?”

“Could be.”

“Right.”

“You okay, Walk?”

“The gun. Did you get anything?”

“We pulled prints.”

“Vincent King?” He held his breath, the room doing its spin, all or nothing now.

“No, actually.”

Walk took it, too tired even for his pulse to quicken.

“It’s small.”

“Woman?”

“Child. Small child.”

Walk closed his eyes. And then he dropped the phone as the pieces began to fit. He ached, so beat he could barely hold his head up.

He thanked Tana, then dialed Vincent.

Vincent answered on the second ring, a man that did not sleep anymore, one of the night people.

“I know.”

He listened to Vincent draw breath.

“What do you know?” Vincent said it quiet, not a challenge, just acceptance now.

“Robin.” The little boy’s name hung long in the air, the last year, all that had gone before. Walk stepped to the window, saw the freeway empty of cars, the sky empty of stars. “I found the gun.”

The silence was long, just the two of them, holding together, like always.

“You want to tell me?”

“I took two lives, Walk. I can live with one of those.”

“Baxter Logan. He paid his price, right?”

“You think it makes that woman’s family happy, what I did to the monster that ruined her? Maybe. I know what I did. I live with that. But not Sissy. Each time … each one of my breaths is stolen from her.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“You already know.”

Walk swallowed. “The boy shot his mother.”

Vincent breathed.

“But he was aiming at someone else,” Walk said, quiet, sad.

“Darke.”

“The girl burned his club. Insurance wouldn’t pay. How’d you fit?”

“I saw his car, went round back, the cut. Darke said he was searching the place, tried the kids’ bedroom door and Star lost it. The boy climbed out the window, heard his mother scream and came back.”

“Brave,” Walk said. “Like his sister.”

“Star shoved him in the closet, got him out of the way. The kid found the gun. Maybe he thought she was getting beat. He aimed out, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Still had them closed when I got there.”

“Darke.”

“Would’ve killed him. He had her blood on him. Kid’s the only witness, whatever he says, Darke’s at the scene. Darke goes down.”

Walk rested his head against the glass as light rain began to fall. He thought of Darke, that perception and how he used it. Maybe he would’ve killed the boy, Walk didn’t think so. But the angle presented itself. “How’d you plead it?”

“Told him I’d take it all. I’d take the fall, no one else for the cops to look for. He was never there.”

“He bought that?”

“No. The house, Walk. He wanted the house. So I gave in. He could buy it, if he left the kid alone.”

“Why didn’t you just plead guilty?”

“Plead guilty and I spend the rest of my life in that cage. Plead innocent and the end comes at me. The case wasn’t winnable. Questions would have come. The gun.”

“You hid it.”

“Darke took it. His insurance in case I changed my mind.”

“You helped Robin back through the window. Washed your hands. Shit, Vincent.”

“Thirty years inside, you learn about crime scenes.”

“You plugged the holes and stayed silent.”

“Your questions didn’t need answering. I look more guilty if I just stay silent. Start talking and you tie me up, no gun, I couldn’t explain that. Let them stick a needle in my arm. Let them do what they should have done thirty years ago.”

“Sissy. It wasn’t murder.”

“It was, Walk. You just didn’t want to see it that way. I’m ready now. I want to go. I’ve always wanted to go. But after I’d served my time. Hal said he was glad I was in there, that I should be punished. Death was too good.”

“Darke couldn’t raise the funds to buy your place. Not the down payment, the taxes. Not after what Duchess did,” Walk said.

“I didn’t know that. But then he wrote me.”

“I saw the letter.”

“Right.”

“You must’ve been mad.”

“I was. At first I was. Not for me … but the money. I needed that money.”

“He gave the gun back because he couldn’t keep his side of the deal. A man of his word, right?”

Silence for a long time.

“People are complex, Walk. Just when you think you got them figured … he gave me an out if I ever needed it.”

“Sometimes wishes do come true … the wishing tree.” Walk said it to himself, tired smile on his face, right there and he’d missed it.

Chris Whitaker's Books