'And they found him out.'
'They realized someone was poking around. Couldn't tie it to him, but there were a very limited
number of people it could be. Things started to get harder for Don. Little things. I think they must have someone here in town.'
'They do,' I said. 'He's the man who shot Bobby. He's a policeman.'
'Oh Christ,' Davids said. 'Tell me he's dead.'
'What happened to my parents, Harold? What happened that night?'
'Don decided they had to leave, to disappear. It wasn't a story he could take to anyone. Even if they believed it, he'd have been admitting to murder. But I think he'd also decided that he was going to deal with them for good. I don't know how the hell he thought he was going to do that. The four of us had a combined age of about two hundred and fifty years. But… we were going to fake their death, make it look like they were out of the picture. Let The Straw Men think it was over. It was all organized.'
My heart skipped a beat, remembering the note left inside my father's chair, and realizing that he could have closed up UnRealty to make The Straw Men think it was all over, before coming back for them in some way. He'd done it to protect me. It wasn't because he'd distrusted me, and it didn't mean that they were…
Davids saw my face, and shook his head.
'They got to them first,' he said. 'Two days before we were going to do it. They were going to drive up to Lake Ely on the Sunday, go boating in the afternoon. Have an accident. Bodies never found. Then on Friday… well, you know what happened. They're dead, Ward. I'm sorry. They weren't supposed to be. But they're really dead. And soon, probably tonight, I will be too. And then it will all be over.'
'Fuck that,' Bobby said. 'Fuck that from here to there.' He unwrapped the towel from his arm. It was pretty bloody, but no more came out of the hole in his shirt. 'I'm good to go. Let's get up there and start
fucking these people around.'
Davids just shook his head. He looked jumpy. 'We're better off staying here.'
'Sir, with respect, I think not,' Bobby said. 'Last couple days have seen concerted culling of your old
crew. If they knew about Lazy Ed, they sure as fuck know about you.'
I was only dimly aware of either of them. I was trying to absorb what I had been told, was trying to realign everything I had thought I'd known about my family. About myself. Davids looked at me.
'It's all true,' he said. 'And I can prove it. Give me a minute, and I can prove it.' He stood up and left
the room.
'This is some weird shit,' Bobby said, when Davids was out of earshot. 'You believe any of it?'
'Why not?' I said, though I didn't know what to think. 'It fits, sort of. And why would he lie? He's
definitely the guy in the video, so he knew then. We know I wasn't born in Hunter's Rock. And I don't see him just making it up on the spot.'
Outside I heard the sound of another car going past, but nothing came of it. I stared at the wall until it began to sparkle in front of my eyes.
'My mother called me, about a week before the accident.'
'Did she hint at any of this?'
'I didn't speak to her. She left a message. I didn't get around to calling back. But usually she didn't call. If it was either of them, it was Dad, and generally they waited for me to get in touch.'
'So you think…'
'I don't know what to think, Bobby, and it's too late to find out.'
'So now what do we do?'
'I don't know.'
Bobby stood. 'I'm going to see if I can scare up some coffee. This arm is starting to hurt like a motherfucker.'
I listened to the sound of his feet disappearing down the corridor. Some part of me, unbidden and against all the evidence, had apparently been holding out hope that all of this, everything since the phone call from Mary when I was sitting on a porch in Santa Barbara, had been a mistake. Had been wrong. This part had created the dream by the swimming pool, tried to convince me that there was something worth hurrying for, that there might still be people to be saved. Now I knew that wasn't true, that there was room for no final effort. My father had a plan, of course. He always did. But the note I'd found was all that had been left of it.
My phone rang, scaring the hell out of me. The number on the screen wasn't familiar.
'Who's this?'
'Nina Baynam. Are you okay? You sound weird.'
'Kind of. What do you want?' I felt numb, and not in a mood to talk about serial killers or anything
else.
'We're in Dyersburg. Where are you?'
'34 North Batten Drive,' I said.
There was a beat before she replied. 'Could you repeat that?' Her voice now sounded odd. 'It
sounded like you said 34 North Batten Drive.'
'I did.'
'That's the address of a man called Harold Davids,' she said.
My heart did a hard double-thump. 'How the hell do you know that?'
'Just stay there,' she said. 'Be careful. We're on our way.'
The connection went dead. I turned to the door as I heard Bobby approach, but his face knocked
any words out of my mouth.
'Davids isn't here,' he said. 'He's gone.'
'Gone where?'
'Just gone. There's a door out the back.'