Sunken Graves by Alan Lee (life books to read txt) 📗

Peter picked up a heavy paperweight from his desk, a glass globe the size of a softball. “Medicate until I’m gone. That’s what you’d like. Like when you wanted me in a fucking straitjacket as a child.”

“Perhaps you’d be healthier now.”

“You were no angel, Francis. Your penchant was for the neighbor boys, remember.”

“I’m adult now, not a curious teen. And it’s time you grow up too.”

“How about Craig Lewis, brother? Was he a curious teen?” said Peter.

“That’s not germane to our conversation. And you had no right to do—”

“What a scandal if that came to light.”

“I’ve seen the tapes. I know it was you. So does the chief. The police might catch you and then where would our stunted little family be?”

“You should have felt him crying…”

“DAMMIT, Peter!”

Peter Lynch ducked from the shout. His face twisted and he threw the glass globe like a fastball. His aim was poor and he hit the doorframe. The earth shattered into slivers. Francis, ducking, was cut across the cheek by sharp wedges.

“DON’T shout at me!”

Pale and trembling, Francis said, “He knows. Daniel Jennings knows, Peter! He was in your godforsaken field and he knows!”

Peter bent as if struck from behind. Hands bracing on his desk, staggering, and pushing papers off the far side. The fingers of his right hand curled around a twenty-inch saltwater hook. Stainless steel, massive, used to catch five-hundred pound tuna and alligators. Six of them lay on the desk.

“She told him.”

“I can’t hear you,” said Francis. Crimson trickled from two cuts under his cheekbone.

“She told him. That’s the only reason Daniel was there.”

“You mean Daisy Hathaway?”

“I…I told her about the field. I don’t know why, I was…out of sorts. I was happy and I confided in her and she betrayed me.”

“This woman has driven you mad. Literally mad. In each instance you think you’ve found a replacement. But she’s fool’s gold.”

“A replacement?” said Peter.

“Someone to love you. Accept you. You’re trying to fill the void where a mother should be. But these nubile girls aren’t it. You’re conflating desires.”

In Peter’s frazzled state, he had no chance to absorb the diagnosis. The truth of Francis’ words fell like bags of cement between them.

“I can fix it,” said Peter.

“How?”

“She’ll marry me.”

“No.”

“I’m proposing. In two days, at the Christmas party.”

“No, Peter, God no.”

“In front of everyone. So they can all see the kind of man I am. That I don’t lose,” said Peter.

“That will fix nothing.”

“That will fix everything.”

Francis cast a glance at the ceiling, as though an answer could be found in the heavens. He told himself, “I was born into a family of mental illness. And then adopted into another with the same condition.”

“She loves me, Francis.”

“The girl won’t fix you. We were abandoned by our mother. Saying it out loud might be therapeutic.”

“You’re the one bringing up our mother, not me. I want to talk about Daisy.”

“Daisy ripped out your face,” said Francis.

“Daisy was scared, I moved too quickly. She showed spirit.”

“You marry or rape or kill anyone that interests you. Use them and abandon them before they abandon you. And that lifestyle must end.”

“This one is different.”

“Can you truly not see the pattern, brother? With every woman or man who intimidates you, the process begins again. Currently it’s Daisy and Daniel. It’ll be someone else next. This is the mess the chief meant. You should listen to your parent, just this once, no matter his flaws.”

As Francis spoke, Peter was grinding his teeth. Blood leaked from his mouth and spattered on a printed court order beneath. “She’ll marry me or she’ll wish she did.”

“She won’t say yes.”

Peter righted his spine. Wiped his mouth. Held up the hook and pressed his thumb into the wicked barb. Enjoyed the pain. “She will eventually.”

“You are deep into an antisocial personality disorder and you need immediate medical attention. Hell, you might need an ambulance.”

“Time for you to go, brother.”

“This is my final offer. If you refuse aid, you won’t see me again.”

“Keep your mouth closed about the proposal. And about your gay lover and everything else. Keep it closed or I’ll staple it closed. It’ll be nostalgic.”

Francis nodded, as though a matter was settled. “Very well. I’m sorry, Peter.”

“You have to keep your lopsided mouth closed. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone. Imagine the fucking headlines as everyone’s favorite judge is charged with felonies.” Peter came around the desk. Waggled the heavy hook. “It was a riot, Francis. Daniel hurled himself into his own grave, the one I was digging for him. What are the odds? Maybe I’ll bury you next to him if you don’t get out of my got’damn office this second. Run away, big brother.”

“Peter—”

Peter getting closer. “Run.”

“You’re insane.”

But Francis ran.

49

Dean Gordon rang Jennings at seven Thursday morning.

“Mr. Jennings, I apologize for the early call.”

Jennings sat up and rubbed his eyes. Checked the clock. He’d managed one hour of sleep. He was falling apart. “No problem.”

“I want to touch base, clarify where we’re at with this whole thing. It’s been a tough week.”

Jennings didn’t respond.

“It’s been rough for you too, I’m sure. How you holding up?” said Gordon.

“I’ll get through it.”

“I’ve gathered information on your arrest earlier this week. The charges against you are…well, Mr. Jennings, they’re significant and disturbing.”

“Have you spoken to Peter Lynch?”

A pause. “He hasn’t returned my calls or emails.”

“The cocaine charge is ludicrous. I passed a drug test at the jail and I’ll keep passing them. The cocaine was planted in my truck,” said Jennings.

“By who?”

“You know who. Maybe we don’t say things out loud so you have some plausible deniability.”

“Is that necessary?”

Jennings was exhausted, weary, feeling mean. “Mr. Gordon, you know exactly what’s going on. I think you’re aware of the powerful forces fighting against me, against Daisy Hathaway, against Craig Lewis. It’s hard for you to act because those forces are somewhat in your corner. But let’s not pretend you’re innocent or ignorant.”

Silence rang loudly through the phone. After a moment Jennings detected a tortured sigh on the other end.

“Are you