“Because you witnessed the deed of transfer,” Howell said, still softly. “I saw it at the courthouse. I double-checked the date this afternoon. How did you get Donal O’Coineen to sign it, Bo?”
Bo was staring into the middle distance again, lost.
Howell tried again. “You killed them, didn’t you, Bo? You forged Donal O’Coineen’s signature, and then you killed them all, the whole family.” He held his breath again.
Bo turned and focused on Howell again. “No,” he said. “No, I didn’t. You don’t understand how it was.”
Howell let his breath out slowly. “Tell me,” he said. And then he knew Bo Scully was going to play.
37
When I got back from Korea, Joyce and I got engaged. We knew Donal objected to us getting married, but I was doing all right and expected to do even better. Eric Sutherland had taken an interest in me when I was in high school, and when I got out of the Marines, he fixed up the deputy sheriff’s job and told me that one of these days I’d be sheriff. But Uncle Martin had shot Mama by this time, and that reminded Donal that I was valley and always would be. Still, he let me see Joyce, and just about every night we were out on the front porch swing necking, but necking was all she’d do, and I was about to go crazy. I was engaged to a girl who wasn’t going to do anything until we were married, and her papa didn’t want her to marry me. That’s when Kathleen came into it.
When I left for Korea, she was just a skinny little girl, but when I got back, it had all happened. God, she was something! She was a tiny thing, but even at twelve, she had a shape. She’d sit in my lap and move around and, believe me, she knew what she was doing. I’ve never known anybody so… completely sexual. She couldn’t turn her head without it being a come-on. She’d come riding with me in the patrol car when I was making rounds, and she’d have her hand in my lap. Pretty soon, we were spending more time in the back seat than in the front. Nobody ever made me feel the way she did… nobody. She could look at me and I’d be on fire, and she knew it. She could pull my string, and I’d jump.
I wanted the thing with Kathleen to be over, but I couldn’t stop; Kathleen wouldn’t let me. Oh, hell, I guess I didn’t want it to stop all that bad, but I reckoned when Joyce and I were married, Kathleen would find a boyfriend to drive crazy and let me alone.
Then, Donal pulled her out of school, and when I came out to the house, Kathleen wouldn’t be there. She’d be sick upstairs or something, always something. This went on for a long time, and I thought Donal had found out about us and was trying to keep her away from me.
One day Donal sat me down and told me he didn’t want me to marry Joyce. Said he’d always liked me, but I was valley, and that was that. I asked Joyce straight out, and she said that was the way she wanted it. Donal had finally gotten to her.
I left there, and I’ve never been so wrecked, before or since. My life was ruined – I couldn’t marry Joyce, and she was valley; if she wouldn’t have me, then nobody would. In school, the kids had shunned us, and now the only valley girl I wanted wouldn’t have me. I didn’t know what to do. And then I started getting phone calls from Kathleen.
She’d talk about the things we’d done to each other in the back of that patrol car. She said she loved me, and she wanted me to take her away. We’d go to California, or someplace where nobody knew us. She looked older than her age, she said; we could do it. She really was getting to me. I began to think that if I couldn’t have one O’Coineen girl, I might have the other one. I began to think about leaving everything – my job and the idea of being sheriff, Eric Sutherland’s help – everything. I was tempted, but I knew it was a crazy idea. I liked hearing from Kathleen, though, so I never told her I wouldn’t take her away.
The thing between Eric Sutherland and Donal O’Coineen had heated up pretty good by then. Donal wouldn’t budge, and the water was rising. I knew Eric wouldn’t flood him out, but Donal didn’t know that. They were at an absolute stalemate, and I knew that before long, something had to give.
Then one night Kathleen called me.
“Hey, Bo.”
It was the way she knew how to say that. Bo’s guts turned to water.
“Listen,” he whispered, already breathing hard, “I can’t talk right now, the sheriff ”ll hear me. I’m fixing to go out on patrol, anyway.“
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said. “Just listen. I talked Daddy into selling.”
This was some sort of trick, Bo thought immediately. She just wanted to get him out there.
“No,” she said, anticipating his thoughts, “Daddy really said he would sell. He’s already signed that paper Mr. Sutherland sent out here. He says for you to come out here and get the paper and take it to Mr. Sutherland. He wants Mr. Sutherland to put the money in his bank account in the morning.”
“Let me talk to Donal,” Bo said.
“He doesn’t want to talk,” Kathleen replied. “He’s already packing everything up. He means to leave here tonight and take us all somewhere else.”
Bo hesitated, trying to think.
“You better come out here quick, Bo, before he changes his mind. Mr. Sutherland would be awful mad if you gave Daddy a chance to change his mind.”
“All right,” Bo said, at last. “All right. I’ll be out there in about half an hour.” He hung up, told the dispatcher he was going on patrol, and left the station. In the car, though, he had second thoughts. Instead of heading for the valley, he made a U-turn and started toward Eric Sutherland’s house.
“You mean it?” Sutherland asked, pacing his study. “You think he’s finally decided to sell?”
“That’s what Kathleen said on the phone,” Bo replied. “I think you ought to go out there.”
“No, no,” Sutherland said quickly, “Donal hates the sight of me by now, and, anyway, he said for you to come. We’ll do as he says. You go out there, get the paper, and tell him I’ll deposit the money in his account in the morning, just as he wants.”
“But Eric, I’m on patrol tonight,” Bo pleaded. “I can’t go running out there in a patrol car; the sheriff’ll have my skin.”
Sutherland dug into a pocket. “Here,” he said, tossing Bo some keys, “take my car. Don’t worry, I’ll fix any problems with the sheriff that might come up. Just get out there and get those papers.” He kept pacing. “I can’t believe it; Donal’s finally caved in. We can start filling the lake again tomorrow!”He stopped and looked at Bo. “Well, don’t sit there, boy, get going!”
Bo left the house and got into Sutherland’s old Lincoln Continental convertible. He put the top up so nobody would see him in his uniform in the car, then started for the north valley road. He turned left at the crossroads and started down into the valley. It was a glorious night. Ahead of him, down the road, the house was lit up like a Christmas tree. The moon flooded the valley, casting a glow over the surface fog that covered the lake, right up to the roadway that held the water from Donal O’Coineen’s farm. Bo thought it looked like the floor of Heaven.
Bo swung the car through the gate and drew up next to the front porch. Donal’s truck must be behind the house; he was loading it there, Bo thought. She met him at the door, slipping her arms around his waist, moving against him. He plucked at her arms, moved her away. “Are you crazy?” he whispered.
“It’s all right,” she said. “They’re all upstairs, packing.” She led him toward the table in the front hall. “Here,” she said, handing him a pen and leading him toward the paper there. “Daddy wants you to witness it. There’s a place there for a witness to sign.”