This message was longer than the one Dwight had heard before.
When it ended, he turned it off and said, “Who’s Gallie?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said, still staring, watching the birds outside his window. “That part didn’t make sense to me.”
“He go to her school?”
“If he does, I never heard her say.”
He looked at the boy’s rigid back and said quietly, “We
The boy turned to face him and it was Jeff’s face. Jeff’s eyes. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I hope you do.”
Dwight put the cell phone in the pocket of his jacket.
“You still going to take my computer? I need it for school.”
Dwight hesitated. He now had Mallory’s complete last message on the phone. If he took the laptop in, Mayleen Richards could probably find evidence that Charlie had deliberately cut out a few words, but so what?
“I guess not,” he said.
“When can I get my phone back?”
Dwight scribbled his number on a notepad. “Call me around noon. Is anything on here password- protected?”
The boy nodded. Half reluctantly, half defiantly, he said, “It’s Avenger. With a capital A.”
“Avenger?”
Charlie shrugged. “They tell you to pick an unlikely word, and that one just popped into my head.”
After leaving the Barefoot home, a little after eight, Dwight stopped to fill up his gas tank. Mrs. Barefoot had insisted that he take with him a ham biscuit as big as his fist, lightly moistened with red-eye gravy, and it was testing all his willpower not to unwrap that fragrant napkin sitting on the dashboard instead of waiting for his drive over to Dobbs. He closed the door on temptation and stood beside the truck. While the gas pumped, he dialed the Johnson number and was relieved that Sarah was the one to answer. He was even more relieved to hear that Malcolm had already left for work and that, yes, he could come over.
One of the garage doors was open when he got there and Sarah waited for him with a large cardboard box that was filled with beautifully wrapped gifts. he instantly realized that these were presents meant for Mallory.
“I’m glad you came, Dwight. Isn’t there a gift barrel for needy people at the courthouse?”
He nodded.
“Would you mind taking these in for me? I didn’t want to do it in front of Malcolm. I’ve put a sticky-note on each one to say what it is. Most of them are clothes. They say when you stop believing in Santa Claus, that’s when you start getting clothes for Christmas. She did love pretty things.”
Her voice wobbled a little and her eyes grew brighter but she quickly gained control of herself and walked over to his truck. “Is there room on your front seat or do you want to put them in back? I can tape the top down if you think I ought to.”
“No, they’ll fit.” He lifted the box and Sarah opened the truck door for him. It was a tight squeeze, but he managed to wedge it in.
She was dressed today in red slacks and a heavy black shawl sweater that seemed to envelop her slender frame. “Amazing how warm it is today after all that ice, isn’t it? Y’all lose any trees? Malcolm had the yard service here most of yesterday picking up all the broken limbs.”
Dwight realized that she was chattering to delay whatever it was he wanted to say to her and that she was clearly not going to invite him inside. That was fine with him.
“Charlie tells me that you and Malcolm heard Mallory’s last message.”
She flinched, then nodded.
“Or rather that you heard all of it, while Malcolm got an edited version.”
“What are you talking about, Dwight?”
“The version he gave Malcolm left out what she said about the Gallie kid.”
“Gallie kid?”
“Who is he, Sarah, and why didn’t Charlie want Malcolm to know what Mallory said?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t know any Gallie.”
Dwight pulled out Charlie’s phone. “Want me to play it for you again, Sarah? Refresh your memory?”
“No!” She pushed the phone away. “No.” Her voice trembled. “Please, no.”
“Then I’ll have to ask Malcolm,” he said implacably.
“
