Jeffrey let his words hang in the air for a few seconds, trying to understand what had really happened. A few years ago, he would have taken Hoss's words at face value. He probably would have even helped cover his tracks. Now he saw the story for what it was: a lie bent around the truth so that the old man could still get to sleep at night.
Jeffrey narrowed the space between them. "You strangled her."
"I didn't mean to."
"How long did it take?" Jeffrey asked, taking another step closer. He knew from a case last year that manual strangulation was not as easy as it seemed, especially when someone was fighting tooth and nail, as Julia must have done. "How long before she passed out?"
"I don't know. It wasn't long."
"Why'd you take her to the cave?"
"Wasn't thinking," he said, but there was a flash of unmistakable guilt in his eyes.
"Everybody knew that's where we went," Jeffrey told him. "If she was ever found, people would make the connection that it was me or Robert. Or both of us."
"That's not what -"
"She said we raped her," Jeffrey interrupted. "She said it less than a year before. It'd make sense, wouldn't it? We were just getting her back for telling."
"Hold on," Hoss said, finally looking him in the eye. It took effort, that much was obvious. "You think I was trying to frame you and Robert?"
Jeffrey did not hesitate. "Yes."
He finally lost control. "I said it was an accident!"
"You tell that to the town," Jeffrey countered, and Hoss's face went pale. "You tell that to Deacon White and Thelma down at the bank and Reggie Ray when he gets back with Jessie."
Panic flashed in the old man's eyes. "You wouldn't."
"I wouldn't?" Jeffrey asked. "I don't know about you, but that badge I wear means more to me than free breakfasts down at the diner."
"I taught you to respect that badge."
"You didn't teach me a damn thing."
Hoss jammed his finger in Jeffrey's face. "You'd be down at the prison right now mopping floors with your daddy if it wasn't for me, boy!"
"Makes no difference," Jeffrey said. "I'm still standing in the same room with a murderer."
"Somebody had to protect you," Hoss said, his voice shaky. "That's all I was doing was looking after you and that pansy friend of yours."
Jeffrey recoiled at the word and Hoss picked up on this.
"That's right," Hoss said. "How'd you like it if I let it out that you and Robert were more than friends?"
Jeffrey snorted a laugh.
"For all I know," Hoss continued, "maybe you were."
"Right."
"You two fuckbuddies?" Hoss goaded, desperation pouring off him. "You want everybody in town to hear that? You want your mama to find out? Maybe somebody'll tell your daddy down at the prison?"
"You can tell my daddy yourself when you see him, you pathetic old fuck."
"You watch that mouth."
"Or what?"
"I protected you!" Hoss yelled. "You think your father would have done that? You think that worthless bastard would've helped you?"
Jeffrey slammed his fist into the desk. "I didn't want your help!"
"You sure as shit needed it!" Hoss screamed back. Blood dripped from his nose, but he kept screaming, his face turning red with anger. "I raised you, boy! I made you the man you are today!"
Jeffrey jabbed his thumb at his chest. "I made me the man I am today. I made myself despite you." He felt dirty being this close to him. "I thought you were a god. You were everything I wanted to be."
Hoss's lip quivered, as if he wanted to take Jeffrey's words as a compliment.
Jeffrey made himself clear. "You molested a teenage girl. You took a mother from her child."
"I didn't -"
"You make me sick," Jeffrey said, walking toward the door.
Hoss put his hand on his desk as if he needed the support. "Don't leave like this, Slick. Come on." His tone took an edge of desperation. "What are you gonna say? What are you gonna tell people?"
"The truth," Jeffrey said, feeling his calm return. What he saw before him was no longer his mentor, his surrogate father, but a criminal, a lying old man who had destroyed the people he was meant to protect.
"Come on, now," Hoss said, begging. "You can't do this. You'll ruin me. You know what'll happen if you go out there and…please, Slick. Don't do this." He took a step forward as if to stop Jeffrey. "You might as well put a gun to my head." He tried a weak smile. "Come on, son. Don't look at me that way."
"Look at you?" Jeffrey asked, putting his hand on the doorknob. "I can't even stand to see your face."
He did not slam the door behind him, but in his mind, Jeffrey heard a resounding crash. Sara stood up, wringing her hands.
He did not know what to tell her. There would never be the right words to describe how he felt. Rudderless, that was a good one to start with. He had lost the thing that gave him direction.
"Are you okay?" she asked, and the concern in her voice was better than anything she had ever done for him.
"He came to see me after Dad was arrested," Jeffrey told her.
"Hoss?"
"I was at Auburn, just about to graduate. I remember everything about it," he paused, picturing the multicolored leaves on the trees that beautiful fall day. Jeffrey was sitting in his dorm room, trying to figure out how he would pay for his doctorate if Auburn accepted him into the program. He wanted to be a teacher, something respectable with a steady paycheck. He wanted to give something back.
"He knocked on the door," Jeffrey continued. "Nobody knocked. They usually just came in. I thought somebody was playing a joke." He leaned against the wall. "He kept knocking, and I finally opened the door and there he was with this look on his face. Told me Dad had taken a plea. Turned on his friends so he wouldn't get the death penalty. You know what he said?"
Sara shook her head.
" 'Some kind of coward,' " Jeffrey finished. "He told me I had to be a man now, that playtime was over. Playtime, like that's all I had been doing in college, just having fun. He handed me this application. It was already filled out."
"The police academy?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "I just took it and signed it and that was it." For the first time in his life, Jeffrey found himself wondering what would have become of his life if he had told Hoss no. He would not have met Sara, for one. He would probably still be living here in Sylacauga, dealing with the same snide remarks and secretive looks that had chased Robert away.
He said, "I don't know how I'm going to do this."
"I'll be here as long as you need me."
"I can't even think about it," he told her, and that was the truth. How could he do this? How could he repeat what Hoss had told him?
"It'll be fine," she said, just as a gun exploded in Hoss's office.
Sara must have opened the door. Jeffrey did not feel like he could move. Yet, somehow, he managed to turn around. Somehow, he was facing Hoss's office.
The old man sat in his chair, one hand on the flag from his brother's coffin, the other holding his revolver. He had put the muzzle of the gun flat to his head and pulled the trigger. There was no question in Jeffrey's mind that Hoss was dead, but still, when Sara went around the desk and pressed her fingers to his neck, he managed to form the question with his eyes.
"I'm sorry," she told him. "He's dead."
Chapter Twenty-Five
3:50 P.M.
Shit," Lena hissed, trying not to jerk her hand back as Molly stuck a needle into the cut.
"I'm sorry," Molly apologized, but she was looking over her shoulder at Sara and Jeffrey, not Lena.
Lena watched as Jeffrey was loaded into the ambulance. "Will he be okay?"
Molly nodded, though she said, "I hope so."
"What about Marla?"
"They've got her in surgery. She's old, but she's strong." She looked back at Lena's hand. "This is going to sting."