“I always tell my volunteers and interns to check their biases at the door, to give everyone who comes to us the benefit of the doubt. But it can be hard—seeing all the things we do—not to sometimes suspect the worst in people.”
“I get that,” Davis says, nodding his head. “Hey, you got any beer?”
Mattie turns from the stove and smiles. “I think I’ve got a couple of Coors stashed in the back of the fridge.”
“No kidding? I would have figured you for a white wine kind of gal.”
“Nah,” Mattie says, walking to the refrigerator and opening it. It’s dark inside and I’m hoping that she has a gun stashed there with all the bottles she’s rattling around. “I like a cold beer in summer and a snort of whiskey in winter. Here—” She pulls out a bottle and brings it into the light of the table, twisting the cap open and handing the bottle to Davis. While Davis leans forward to take it from her, Mattie cuts her eyes over to where the gun lies on the table and then to me. “I bet that chili’s real hot now,” she says to Davis, still looking at me. “Are you ready for a bowl?”
“Damn yes,” he says, leaning back in his chair, the front legs coming off the floor again. I always tell Oren not to do that because the chair could slip out from underneath him.
I look back at Mattie. She’s ladling chili into a bowl, steam rising up from it. It is hot. She’s going to throw the chili in Davis’s face to give me a chance to grab the gun. As she turns from the stove I nod at her to let her know I understand and that I’m on board.
“You know, Mattie,” Davis says as she approaches. “You’re not so bad—”
I lay my hand on the table and tense, ready to grab the gun.
“—it’s too bad your father was such a corrupt asshole.”
“What?” I say, and then curse myself for saying anything.
Davis looks at me and then at my hand. He rocks forward and snatches up the gun. “Your new friend didn’t tell you about that, Allie?” he says. “Her father was a corrupt judge. I found out while I was poking around his office before. He was being investigated for taking kickbacks to put juvies in a private detention center owned by one of his cronies.” Davis laughs. “Ironic, huh? He could have been one of the judges who locked you up, Allie. Only he killed himself and his family before the scandal could come out.”
“That’s not true,” I say, turning to Mattie, but I can see on her face right away that it is.
Davis laughs. “You were always too naive, Allie.” He waves the gun at Mattie. “Let’s eat and then we’ll go have a look at those papers in your daddy’s study. Wait’ll you see, Allie. I think you’ll be surprised at what your new friend has been hiding from you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mattie
STUPID. STUPID TO care what this asshole has to say about my father. Stupid to care about my father after all these years. After the things he did.
And we were so close. Alice definitely got my signal. All I had to do was throw the chili in Davis’s face and she’d have gotten the gun. Now we’re all sitting around the table eating chili—well, Davis is eating while the bowls in front of me and Alice go cold—and Alice is looking at me as if I’m the enemy.
They’ll drag his name through the mud and yours and Caleb’s along with it. It will bring up all that old business about your time at Hudson. That’s how people will see you, Mattie, like you’re tainted by your father’s deeds. Do you want that?
No, I hadn’t, and I don’t now. I’d rather Davis shot me right now and got it over with, but I’ve got Alice and Oren to think about, and anything that uses up time until Frank gets here is useful. “Would you like another bowl?” I ask after Davis has finished his second and is on his third beer. “Another beer?”
“Nah. I’d better keep my wits about me. Don’t think I don’t see you two ladies giving each other the side-eye. I had kinda hoped Oren would’ve joined us by now, though. HOW ABOUT IT, SON? JOIN US FOR SOME CHILI?”
Davis’s booming voice echoes in the house, which feels bigger and emptier outside the circle of our lamplight. Is Oren even still here? I hope he hasn’t tried to go outside. I think of Caleb’s frozen body and reflexively check the window that faces the barn, but the snow has mounded so high on the sill that I can’t see anything except that it’s still snowing.
“Expecting someone?” Davis asks.
“No one’s getting out here,” I say, shaking my head. “Or out of here, for that matter. We could be snowed in for days. Where did you leave your car?”
“Never you mind,” he snaps.
I shrug. “I was just wondering what your exit plan was. Do you have four-wheel drive? A plow?”
“What would I need those for?”
“To get out before the police come checking on me. I’m friends with the chief of police. He’ll come out once the snow stops tomorrow to see if I need help digging out.” This last part is true even though Frank and I haven’t exactly been friends for years; he still checks up on me after snowstorms and hurricanes. “Jason’s truck has a plow. You might want to check his pocket for keys. Do you know how to operate a plow?”
“Of course I do!” he says in an angry voice that tells me he absolutely doesn’t. “I’m surprised you do.”
I shrug. “Living out in the woods all alone like I do, you pick up these things.”
“Well, then you can help drive when we’re ready to go. And we’ll worry about that key later.” He smiles slyly. “I think you’re just trying to put off our little trip down memory lane in your daddy’s study. But I suspect Allie here is looking forward to it, aren’t you, Allie?”
Alice shrugs. “Why should I care? I already know her folks died here in a gas leak.” She takes out a bit of newsprint from her jeans pocket and unfolds it on the table. As Davis leans forward to read it I recognize my father’s picture. Seeing his face makes me go cold all over, as if he were here, sitting in judgment of us all.
“This doesn’t say nothing about him being under investigation,” Davis says. “You got it hushed up, eh? Figures. Rich judge’s daughter living in a big fancy house, you probably had your daddy’s cronies sweep all the nastiness under the rug.”
I raise one eyebrow. “Does the state of this house look like I have a lot of money?”
“That’s true,” Alice says. “Everything’s falling apart here. Even the clothes she’s wearing have holes in them. I don’t think she’s got two dimes to rub together, Davis.”
Davis gives Alice a condescending smirk. “That just shows how you don’t understand rich people, Allie. Least not the snooty old-money kind. They love to look like they don’t care. Like your buddy Scott, the way he dressed in raggedy jeans and faded old T-shirts.” Alice blanches at the mention of Scott. “And this bitch . . . well, one look through her daddy’s papers will show you how rich he was. He owned half the real estate in town, not to mention farmland all over the county and interest in some surprising ventures. She probably has bags of money stowed away—and she’s gonna give us some to keep quiet about her daddy’s secrets.” Davis tilts back the last of his beer while Alice looks at me as if she’s considering how much I’m worth. As if she’s considering which side she’s on. Then Davis slams the empty beer bottle to the table. “Let’s go have a look, Allie. You might’ve made our fortune by landing here!”
DAVIS GIVES ME the hurricane lamp to hold and has me walk ahead to the study while he follows behind, his arm linked with Alice’s, the gun pointing at my back. I could crash the lamp to the floor and start a fire, but I can’t risk that with Oren hidden somewhere. If I were sure of Alice’s cooperation, I could kill the wick, plunging us into darkness, and whack Davis with it, but I’m no longer so sure she’s on my side.