Heat of Night (13 page)

Juan studied his hands for a long time.

Finally he said, “Maybe later, Father. Maybe later.

Now, you understand, I don’t know … I guess after I sit here and think it over that religion — she is a lot of different things to a lot of different people. No? To the doctor here one thing, to Rosa and me, all our life another…. To Dolores in there … well, I guess she’s got her own religion.”

The priest nodded. “All right. Perhaps I come back later then, if the Lord and I can get through this road.”

The doctor said, “If you’re going back to town, Dominie, I’ll ride with you, if you’ll let me.”

“I’ll be pleased! There must be something we can discuss on our way back to town — without argument.”

The doctor laughed. “I doubt that.”

• • •

In Hollister’s big house, Norcross walked up and down in the upstairs hallway. He carried the Scotch bottle clutched in his arms though it was empty, had for a long time been empty.

“Mr. Hollister!” He shouted, knocking on all the doors along the hallway. “Where are you? I have a decision for you. Decision utmost importance. Decision case Hollister vs. Hollister. Case Scotch. Scotch plaid. I have thought over your case all night, Mr. Hollister. Over delicious Scotch. Change my whole life. Saw the truth. What I am going to do, sir, is not ethical, and probably not priv’leged. Probably be frowned upon. Even I — would frown upon it but cannot get my brows together. I feel, sir, that you are a fine fellow. A man that buys good Scotch can’t be all bad. You brought me and this bottle of Scotch together, sir, and I feel I owe you something, even if it is only the tattered, shabby truth. You must hold out against us, Mr. Hollister. Tomorrow I shall put the spurs to you in the interests of my client. But you must resist. Do you hear me, sir? I cannot repeat this too strongly. This without precedent. Your wife — this woman I represent — have the honor to represent — is a leech. A leech, sir, who has been proposed marriage to by a very rich man who happens to be elderly. So she is making a play — if she can force you to marry her again to keep from paying outrageous alimony — slings and arrows of outrageous alimony — she will throw over this old boy. If not — wham — he gets it — right between the eyes. Do you follow me, sir? You must be firm. You got to fight, sir, and you will be free. Do not worry about Stella. This I have learned, sir, we must never worry about the Stellas of this world. Do you hear me, sir?”

Exhausted, Norcross lay down against one of the doors, having long since despaired of ever finding his own room again in this monstrous place. He rocked the bottle in his arms, crooning to it, until they both fell asleep.

• • •

Al pulled the suitcase from under the bureau and placed it on the bed.

Bea said, “What are you going to do, Al?”

“We’re going home! We got a lot to do. We got my sons to think about.”

She drew a deep breath, ready to give him the old arguments. She exhaled, said nothing. He stared at her, thinking he was going to have sons.

“I understand, Al. It’s been a long night — for me, too.”

“It’s like I suddenly come to my senses, too. What you said — about understanding what people want, and I began to see what you wanted, as well as what I wanted. You didn’t mean Ric — you meant me. And you. Everybody. And then I saw you’ve been wrong, for me, you’ve been dead wrong — ”

“I know, Al. I do know.”

“But I been wrong, too.”

“No. You wanted something — and when you didn’t get it you were hurt.”

“My trouble was I didn’t want
anything.
I was just against whatever you wanted. I was worse than Ric. What did you ask of me that was so terrible? All you wanted was to be happy — with me. Plenty of women with less cause would have given up and looked for another man.”

“I never wanted anyone else. Only, I wanted you my way.”

“Sure. You wanted me just to be civilized enough so you could live inside a city limits with me — ”

She smiled, looking at him, and thought, all of them had learned something tonight, all of them were changed, none of them would ever again be as they had been before this night. “It’s all right, Al.”

“Hell it is.” He looked at her, thinking she was always running things and that wasn’t the way it should be. But he saw a lot more; she was a good kid. He said it aloud, “You’re a good kid.” He laughed. “Magruder. The country club guy. Got to be nice to Magruder, eh?”

“It wouldn’t kill you, Al.”

“Okay. Tell you what. We got my sons to think about now, eh? So when we get home, why, I’ll be so nice to Magruder
that he won’t spit on me.
”

• • •

Dolores opened her eyes when Mal sat on the bed beside her.

“Mal.”

“I’m here.”

“You don’t have to, Mal. You don’t have to stay. I don’t blame you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I came in here to tell you I’ve got good news. They’re not going to fight us. Oh, now I don’t pretend they like the idea — no better than they ever did. Maybe they’ve just decided things aren’t all black or all white, sometimes just gray — and that maybe I’m gray. Anyhow, when you’re up and out of here, we’ll get married — and they won’t throw stones.”

She stared at him a long time. She looked in his face for censure, for distaste and she saw only love and need, and after a long time her swollen lips pulled into a smile.

“I can get up right now,” she said.

“Sure you can. But why hurry it? Everything is so peaceful right now, why don’t we just stay here — like this — as long as they’ll let us.”

She closed her eyes, pressed herself close against him. Suddenly she opened her eyes. “You won’t leave me?”

“No.”

She sighed again and closed her eyes, moving closer. “We’re all right,” she said, mostly to herself. “We truly are all right now, aren’t we?”

• • •

Big Juan looked at Rosa. She gave him a tired smile.

“Like we say to each other long time ago, Papa. Maybe he not so bad — for her.”

Juan tried to smile. “For me, he’s not so much. For you, he’s not so much. But for her, he’s much. Eh? Only now we begin to believe it.”

“What we don’t see is — what matters is that he is fine for her, eh, Papa?”

Juan put his arm around Rosa, licking his lips. His mouth was cottony. He spoke with exaggerated weariness but there was no weariness at all in his eyes. “I think I go to bed, Rosa. Eh? I feel tired. Like I haven’t — slept — in a month.”

“Shu, Papa.” She felt his arm drawing her near, felt his hand seeking. “We go to bed, eh? Like you, I very tired.”

They stood up, moved toward their bedroom. He could not resist tickling her hard in the ribs. A burst of laughter sprang from her mouth, the sound of it louder than the receding storm. She hugged Juan, laughing, and he swung her up in his arms. He stumbled slightly under her weight and then he staggered with her into their bedroom. He kicked the door shut with his heel and Rosa’s laughter pealed out, louder than ever.

THE END

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If you enjoyed this Crime title from Prologue Books, check out other books by Harry Whittington at:

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