Part 20 (1/2)

Father speaks as though he is preparing for battle, Kyle thought.

In unison, the dogs howled.

Part Two.

DARKNESS GATHERS.

I pointed out to you the stars, and all you saw was the tip of my finger -Tanzanian proverb.

If 'the tiger sits, do not think it is out of respect.

-Nilotic proverb.

Chapter 9.

*Chief Van Jackson got the call Sat.u.r.day morning: someone had turned up missing.

Tawanda Gary, nineteen years old, had vanished from the home at which she was baby-sitting last night. The woman of the house had come home from work late last night and discovered that her two children were alone, and when her worthless, pothead man came in at dawn, he was clueless, too. A call to Tawanda's grandmother, whom she lived with, didn't turn up any leads, either. Her grandmother hadn't seen Tawanda since she had left to baby-sit.

Tawanda's vehicle, an old Ford Escort, remained parked under the carport of the house at which she'd been working.

Kidnapping and abduction were extremely rare crimes in Dark Corner. Jackson had handled an abduction case only once, and that had been over ten years ago. Murder was equally rare. The only murder in recent memory was when a man had killed his wife in the midst of a domestic dispute, and the murderer had actually called Jackson, personally, to give himself up.

Intuition warned Jackson that this case wasn't going to be so easy. He began the investigation the best way he knew how: by talking to folks.

Sat.u.r.day morning, Jackson spent a while talking to the family who'd hired Tawanda to baby-sit. The woman was forthright and trustworthy, a hardworking lady who held down two jobs to make ends meet. He knew her folks, too. They were good people.

But he wasn't impressed by her live-in man, Andre.

In his early thirties, Andre was a known drug user and had never worked a stable job in his life. He hung out at the basketball courts and the car wash with his buddies, smoking weed and drinking beer. If laziness were a felony, Andre would have been serving a double life sentence.

Every time Jackson saw the man, he thought of Jahlil, and what could happen to his boy if he didn't get his life on track. If Jahlil's att.i.tude did not change, Jahlil was Andre in a few years.

Jackson hated the pathetic example that Andre set for the younger boys in town. But his main problem with Andre on this day was that he was sure the guy was hiding something related to the girl's disappearance.

”Come outside with me for a minute, will you?” Jackson said to Andre while they were in the small living room. ”Want to chat with you”

”I'm really tired.” Andre yawned dramatically. ”I was out all night.”

”Ain't gonna take but a minute,” Jackson said.

Reluctantly, Andre followed him outdoors. Jackson leaned against the patrol car. Andre watched him, his hands buried in the pockets of his baggy jeans, restlessly jingling coins.

Andre didn't look tired. He looked scared.

”First off,” Jackson said. ”I don't care about your reputation for smoking weed. We ain't here to talk about that”

”But I don't smoke-”

”Don't start lying to me, all right?” Jackson said. ”Don't wanna hear it. It ain't the issue.”

Andre drew in a shaky breath. ”I don't know what happened to Tawanda, Chief. I really don't”

Jackson removed his hat and began to straighten the brim. ”I'm the kind of man, I listen to my intuition. You know what it tells me? Tells me that you're telling the truth-part of it.”

”I ain't lying, Chief!” Andre said. ”I rolled out as soon as she got here to watch the boys, and when I got back to the crib my woman was already here and said Tawanda was gone. I don't know nothing.”

Jackson finished flattening the edge of the hat. He set it back on his head. ”What're you scared of, Andre? You're shaking like a leaf.”

Andre lowered his head. ”I ain't scared.”

”You got fear stamped all over you, buddy.”

Andre dragged his hand down his face. ”Look, I can't talk about it.”

”Can't talk about what? You can't hide information that could help solve a crime. That's obstruction of justice, buddy. You serve time for that”

Andre raised his head. His eyes were wet-looking, as though he were about to cry.

”You need to check out the crib up there,” Andre said. He quickly motioned toward the horizon, then dropped his arm as if he'd gotten an electric shock. ”Any wicked s.h.i.+t going down here, you better look there first.”

Jackson had followed the man's finger. The only house ”up there” was the Mason place.

A coldness wrapped around Jackson, like a mantle of ice.

”All right now,” Jackson said. ”You got to explain what you mean. What's Jubilee got to do with the girl?”

”h.e.l.l, naw,” Andre said. ”I done already told you too much. I ain't getting any deeper into this s.h.i.+t.”

Andre fled inside the house. He slammed the door in Jackson's face.

Jackson knocked. ”Open up, buddy. We ain't done chattin'.”

No one answered.

Jackson knocked again, then rang the doorbell, and still they ignored him. It surprised him. He had never faced resistance like this from folks in his own town.

But one thing was clear: Andre was scared out of his mind.

He briefly considered using some official force to make Andre speak to him, but he decided against the idea. The guy was flat-out too scared to talk, and he had directed Jackson toward a source that might bear fruit. Jackson didn't like to push folks too hard. It wasn't his style-a good thing, really, because in a small town like this, he'd never needed to be that tough to get the job done.

He only hoped that this case would not push him over the edge.

Sighing, he walked back to the cruiser. He glanced at the Mason house, sitting way up there on the hill.