True Detective

'Love to,' I said.

He gestured toward the nook, and I went over and sat down. He brought two steaming cups over and we sat and drank in silence. He was, I believe, trying to figure out where to begin with me; I was just enjoying the coffee and not being in the Chevy, though the nook was a little reminiscent of a cramped car, at that. A bath and bed sounded good to me.

But Mary Ann's father wanted to talk, and, since I was here to gather information about Jimmy Beame, I wasn't about to discourage him.

'My daughter called me a few days ago, Mr. Heller,' he said, 'and told me who you are, and why you've made this journey.'

'Make it Nate, please.'

'Fine. And my name is John.'

'All right, John. Do you disapprove of my trying to locate your son?'

'I would've. six months ago. Now… well, I'm inclined to support your efforts. In fact, if my daughter hasn't paid you sufficiently, I would be glad to underwrite your efforts myself.'

'That isn't necessary,' I said.

Somebody cleared her throat.

We turned and looked over where, in the doorless doorway of the kitchen, Mary Ann, in a baby-blue bathrobe that covered her from neck to slippers, stood, arms folded, rather cross. Pouty.

'I just wanted to say good night,' she said.

'Good night, darling,' her father said.

She came over and hugged him again, remembering, I guess, that it was me she was irritated with, not him; and she kissed him on the cheek and smiled at him, then glanced over at me and put the smile away and went over and got her suitcase and turned her back and padded out with it.

I called out to her: 'Good night, Mary Ann.'

'Good night,' she said, like a child, her back to me. already through the doorway and halfway down the hall.

John Beame studied me. like he might a difficult patient.

'That's something she didn't inform me of,' he said.

'What's that, sir?'

'That she's in love with you.'

'Well, uh…'

'Are you in love with her?'

'Sir, I…'

'She's a wonderful girl. Difficult. Childish. Self-centered. But quite unique, and loving, in her way.'

'Yeah. Wonderful.'

'You do love her, don't you?'

'I guess I do. Damned if I know why, if you'll excuse me for saying so, sir.'

'John.' he said, smiling wryly. 'I love her because she's my daughter. Nate. What's your excuse?'

I laughed. 'I just never met anybody like her before.'

'Yes. And she's attractive, isn't she?'

'No argument there, sir… John.'

'Spitting image of her mother, rest her soul. More coffee?'

'Please.'

He brought the pot over and filled my cup; his gloved hands seemed able to cope pretty well. I tried not to look at them.

'Oh. these hands of mine function well enough, Nate,' he said. 'I can even give chiropractic adjustments with them, though I haven't practiced for years, in terms of hanging a shingle out. I was afraid, with some justification I might say, that my patients would be repulsed by my hands being disfigured. Of course I could've worn gloves. but even then- with only two fingers on my right hand and considerable pain in those early years- it didn't seem worth the trouble. My friend and mentor, B. J. Palmer, offered me a position teaching at his college, which evolved into my managing his radio station. WOC was the second licensed radio station in the United States, you know. At any rate, it's been, and continues to be, an interesting life. And certain of my friends still come to me privately, gratis, for chiropractic care. I have a room with an adjusting table upstairs.'

'Mary Ann said you injured your hands in an automobile accident.'

He looked into his cup of coffee; stared in. 'Yes. Years ago. when she and Jimmy were very small.'

'They were in the accident, too?'

He nodded. 'I often took them on house calls. I had one out in the country, one evening, a farmer who'd twisted his back in a hayloft fall. A lot of my patients were rural I come from rural stock myself. It was my father's greatest disappointment that I didn't follow in his footsteps as a farmer, but I had a brother who made him happier, by staying in that field, if you will pardon a pun. But you asked about the accident. It was dark, and the road was narrow, unlit… a dirt road with deep ditches. Some drunken fool, driving without lights, ran into us, and… I was not