Ray cocked his head. “What was that? That bar you used on me?”
“The tire iron from my patrol car. I was ready to account for it. I think I wanted to. I broke your arms. I lied, I made that dope addict Perry March say you stole his car. I was ready to tell it. I was proud of what I did. But no one ever came.”
“No.”
“You killed my girl.”
“I loved her. A drunk driver killed her.”
“You don’t say that.” His eyes were full of tears and his mouth worked. “You don’t get to say that.”
“No, Stan. I think that’s why I went to prison. So I could say it. I think that’s why I let everything come. The beating and the lies you told.”
Stan Hicks sat on the ground and put his head in his hands. Ray got down slowly on one knee, the cold water from the grass soaking through his pants. He turned, to see Michelle standing now, watching intently, her eyes wet.
Stan Hicks spoke, his eyes hidden. “She’d have hated it. What I did.”
“Yes. But she’d have wanted me to help you.”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“No.” Ray reached over and put his hand on the older man’s arm. “That’s why I had to do it. Come here and say it was okay. That it worked out okay. It’s the same thing she did for me. Loved me. Wanted good things for me that I didn’t deserve. She would have hated what you did. But she would have kept on loving you.”
Ray got awkwardly to his feet, Michelle running across the lawn to help him. Together they helped Stan Hicks get up, and they went with him inside. The house was bright and empty, and there were pictures of Marletta and her mother. Michelle stood in the entryway and looked at them, and then at Stan Hicks and Ray standing in the kitchen. Ray got a glass from a cabinet and ran the water, filled it, and handed it to the older man.
Ray leaned back against the counter. “My mother always did that.”
“Mine, too.” Stan Hicks wiped at his eyes with his sleeve.
“It always helped.”
They both looked at Michelle. For the first time, the older man smiled. “Just like my girl.”
HE WAS IN the store late on a Wednesday night, unpacking boxes and thinking about locking the door, when one of the detectives from the hospital came in. The tall one, good cop, the one named Nelson. The detective looked around and rocked on his heels. Ray waved from where he was kneeling in the space between the register and a display table, motioning him further in.
“Nice place, Raymond.”
“Ray. Everyone calls me Ray, Detective.” He stuck out his hand.
“Right. Ray.”
Ray pointed down the stacks. “Take a look around. Help yourself to anything catches your eye.”
Nelson scratched his ear, smiled.
Ray said, “If that’s not a problem. Graft or something.”
Nelson pulled out his note pad and gestured at a table and two chairs up against the far wall. “You got a second?”
Ray hesitated half a beat, then pointed to the chair nearest the door. “Sure. You want some coffee?”
Nelson said yes, and Ray went back to the storeroom, returning with two cups. Nelson had wedged his tall frame into the seat, and his notebook was open on the table. But Ray’s eye was drawn by the paper- wrapped bottle that sat next to it. Green glass and a red cap that Nelson unscrewed. He poured a small dollop of the brown liquid into his coffee and held it out to Ray, who wagged his head for a second indecisively before saying sure, what the hell. Nelson sipped at his coffee, and they sat for a minute.
“You’re seeing someone.”
“You been keeping tabs.”
Nelson laughed, holding up his hands to make peace. “No, really. Just saw you in the coffee shop with a woman.”
“Michelle. She’s usually here, but she’s taking a writing class at Bucks.”
Nelson nodded. “Nice. She seems like a nice lady, Ray.” He looked sheepish. “Not doing so hot in that area myself.”
Ray sipped at the coffee, made a face. “Forgot how bitter it is.”
“Only at first.” They sat in silence, Nelson tapping his pen on his cup.
“I gotta ask.”
“Why am I here?”
“Well, yeah. Is it about the kid in the house in Falls Township?”
Nelson shook his head. “No, but thanks for that. They got the kid out.”
“Good. I saw the news.”
“They took two bodies out of the yard. Young girls who disappeared. At least we can tell the families something.”
“That’s good, I guess. And you got the kid out?”
“Yeah, into family services. I didn’t think you’d want your name in it.”
“No.”
“But that’s not why I came.”
Ray raised his eyebrows. “Okay.”
“I’ve been asking around. About what happened the year you went upstate.” Ray stopped smiling, and waited. “I talked to Perry March’s mother.”
“His mother?”
“He’s dead.” Ray shook his head. Nelson tapped the notebook. “Overdose, two years ago. She told me some interesting things.”
“Yeah?”
“She said Perry would get high and talk about Stan Hicks and you and the car. She said her son was afraid of Stan and that Perry told her he lied about you taking the car because he was jammed up on a possession thing.” Ray put his coffee cup down and looked at his hands. “I looked at the records from the accident. And I looked at the medical records from the County Youth Authority the night you got your arms broken.”
Ray rubbed his arms then, an old reflex. Feeling the thickened bones that ached when it was cold.
Nelson said, “I talked to Stan Hicks.”
Ray looked up now. “How did that go?”
“He told me you’d been there. He told me everything.”
“I guess he’s ready to tell it.”
“He laid it all out. How he pressured Perry March with the possession beef and got him to say you stole his car. The guy who hit you and Marletta? The guy who was killed? He was a drunk. Blood alcohol well over the line. Your blood screen was clean. Stan pressured the DA, made her life hell until she made you a priority. Then he took you out of County in the middle of the night and broke your arms with something, I can’t figure out what. You went to prison with busted arms at seventeen. Stayed for two years for something you didn’t do.”
Ray was quiet. “The jack from his car. He said. It was dark. He told the Youth Authority I ran away from him in the dark and fell off a loading dock. I said, sure, what ever. I didn’t care.”
“So, what do you want to do?”
“Do?”
“About Stan Hicks. What do you want to do?”
Ray shook his head, surprised. “Nothing.” He picked up the coffee again. “I really forgot. It does kind of grow on you.”
“You might be able to press charges, I don’t know. Maybe sue, collect some money.”
“No, I’m not doing that.” Ray looked into the cup.
Nelson looked at him and rocked a little in his chair. “Okay, so…”
“You never knew her?”
“Marletta? No.”
Ray looked at his pale hand. “She was, I don’t know the words. There was a light inside her. Ever know
