The Last Death of Jack Harbin (4 page)

I'm walking up to my front door after leaving Jack's house when a green vintage Buick comes barreling up the street and screeches to a halt in front of my house. I could have told you who was driving with my eyes closed. Laurel Patterson has always driven like the devil is chasing her down the road. She may be married, with two young kids, but that hasn't slowed her down.

I'm hoping she's not coming to see me, as I need a few minutes to unwind, but she jumps out of her car waving at me, and heads my way. Laurel has put on a few pounds and doesn't move as fast outside of the car as she does in it. She's wearing shorts and an over-sized T-shirt, and has her light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Up close, I see that her dark eyes are troubled.

“What brings you over this way?”

“Mr. Craddock, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What kind of favor?” She's so serious that I have to hold back a smile.

She plants her hands on her hips. “It's about Woody. Daddy said you could talk sense to almost anybody.”

“Come on inside, out of this heat, and tell me why you need me to talk sense to your husband.”

We sit down at the kitchen table. Laurel grips her hands together in front of her so hard her knuckles whiten. Her eyes spark fire. “Woody wants to have Jack come and live with us.”

“Whoa!” I rear back in my seat. I can't even begin to list how many ways this is a bad idea, the primary one being that the two men haven't spoken a word to each other in twenty-some-odd years. “I sure didn't expect that. I presume it doesn't fit into your plans?”

“That's an understatement! I don't see how Woody can even think about having Jack at our house. He's just an awful man. I mean, I'm sorry what happened to him, but a lot of people say he's made the worst of the situation.” She sighs. “That's not fair. I don't know what I'd do if I was in his place, not being able to see or walk.”

“Laurel, with his physical problems, even if he was a practicing saint it would still be hard having him live at your house. You'll just have to tell Woody how you feel.”

Her smile is tired. “Woody is a good man, but he can be stubborn when he gets something in his head.”

It occurs to me that he and Jack are the same that way. “To be honest, I don't think you have anything to worry about. I doubt if Jack would take to the idea anyway.”

Her lips go all pinched. “I wouldn't be so sure about that. You have to admit Jack's gotten along fine, being waited on hand and foot by his daddy. And if he thinks he can get Woody to do the same thing, I expect he'll figure out a way to forgive Woody pretty fast.”

I'm surprised at the anger in her voice. She's generally even-tempered, if a little impulsive. There must be something else behind the fuss she's putting up. I can't help wondering if Taylor Brenner is in the mix.

Laurel is an attractive enough girl, but nothing special to look at, with a pudgy face and a button nose. Folks were pretty surprised that she ended up with Woody after his divorce from Taylor Brenner. How could Woody go from Taylor, who was about as electric as a girl could be, to steady, plain, easy-going Laurel? But Jeanne told me to wait and see, that she bet it would work out. And sure enough, after he married Laurel, Woody settled down big time, almost as if he was relieved not to have to keep up with Taylor's bright star.

“Why does Woody want to take Jack in, anyway? He's got you and the kids to consider. And doesn't your mamma live with you, too?”

“That's what I told Woody, but he says since he works at home, like Jack's dad did, he can take care of Jack the way Bob did. And you know good and well who the work would fall to.”

“Like I said, why would he want Jack there anyway, the way things are between them?”

She pushes away her untouched coffee and crosses her arms on the table. “You know Woody feels responsible for what happened to Jack. It was his idea for the two of them to sign up for the army.”

“I know that's what Woody said at the time. But they were kids. It wasn't Woody's fault the army took Jack and didn't take him.”

“Woody says there's more to it. And he won't talk about it.”

Okay, so maybe Taylor does figure in there somewhere. But I have a feeling I'm not going to get to the bottom of it right now.

“I still don't think Jack would move in with you all.” I tell her about Jack's insistence that Woody not be allowed at the visitation tonight.

Her fine hair has straggled out of its clip, so she undoes it and snatches the hair back up tight and clips it again. “I know it. Belle called the house and told him.”

“How did Woody react?”

“He said as long as we can go to the service, that's okay.”

“Do you know if Taylor is coming down from Dallas?”

“She's already out at her mamma's. She called this afternoon. She was trying to decide if she ought to go see Jack.”

“Why wouldn't she?”

“She doesn't know if Jack would be in the frame of mind to see her.”

“You and Taylor get along, do you?”

She shrugs. “We used to get along fine. I don't see much of her these days. When she comes to see her mamma, it's only for the day, so she doesn't have a lot of time for the old crowd.”

A neat sidestep to the question I was really asking—if there was any jealousy over Woody.

She looks up at my kitchen clock and bolts out of her chair. “Oh, my Lord, I'm late. I've got to pick up my boys from school.” She cocks her head at me. “I hate to ask you, but do you suppose you could talk to Woody about this? He'd listen to you.”

I get up and walk to the door with her. “I don't know why he'd listen to me. What about his daddy? Maybe Frank could talk some sense to him.”

She pauses at the door. “Sounds like you haven't kept up with Frank. He's gotten to be a hermit since Sissy died. I don't think he's said three sentences to us in the last six months.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” I really am. It wouldn't have occurred to me to stop by and see Frank after his wife died, since we don't know one another that well. But it wouldn't have hurt me to call him, having gone through that rough patch myself.

In the late afternoon, I go down to the pasture behind my house to spend a little time with my cows before I go off to Bob's visitation. What Jack said about the Benadryl in Bob's autopsy report is still nagging at me. I make a mental note to call Doc Taggart's office tomorrow to check it out.

Bob Harbin's coffin is a flashy silver-and-chrome affair with dark blue satin lining and outer panels studded with brushed chrome medallions. I imagine it's going to draw some criticism. People in Jarrett Creek are close with a dollar and don't care much for show.

Jack is fitted out in a jacket that swallows his thin frame. His wheelchair is positioned near the coffin for the visitation. A couple of his veteran friends sit in the pew near him. The pungent smell of whiskey floats to me as I bend to speak to Jack. “Your daddy looks good. They did a real fine job with him.”

“Yes, sir. Lurleen told me it looks like Daddy could get up out of the coffin and walk out of here.”

I pat him on the shoulder and tell him I'll see him at the funeral tomorrow. I only stay twenty minutes before I head off for my weekly date. Ever since my next-door neighbor, Jenny Sandstone, and I made our peace after she saved my art collection from arson, we get together once a week over a bottle of wine. Jenny is a lawyer, and likes taking a break from her work. We stick to gossip and complaints.

Sitting at Jenny's kitchen table over what Jenny claims is a pricey bottle of Pinot Noir, I tell her I'm troubled about what Jack Harbin is going to do now that Bob is gone. “You got any bright ideas? Jack would like to stay put here in Jarrett Creek, but I don't know how he's going to pay for that.”

“What happened to Jack's mother?” Jenny is dressed in blue jeans and a white blouse. Her flame-red hair is tied back, with tendrils of it escaping like coiled wire. She's a big woman, around six feet tall and buxom. Jenny made it clear from the get-go that she's not in the market for a man, and that suits me fine. I'm happy to have the occasional company of a smart woman who isn't interested in taking over my wife's position.

I tell her about Marybeth, Jack's mother. “She lives over in Bryan–College Station. She visits every now and then, but she has a hard time with what happened to Jack.”

Jenny frowns. “Seems like with his dad passing, she could step up.”

I shake my head. “You'd have to know Marybeth. It's not that simple.”

“Whatever you say.” Jenny doesn't have patience for self-indulgence. “Damn shame for a young man to suffer such grievous wounds.”

“You've got that right. He was a pistol when he was young. Best quarterback ever came out of Jarrett Creek High School.”

“You mean it would have been okay if he was only good at math?” Jenny can have a sharp tongue at times.

“You know I don't mean that.”

“This town and its football!” She doesn't have to elaborate—she has made it clear that she doesn't share the town's obsession with football. She sips her wine. “Only time I've ever seen Jack is down at the café. Hard to imagine him as an athlete.”

“He was, though. He could flat-out throw a ball.”

“Why didn't he play college ball? Why enlist in the army?”

“Jack and Woody Patterson signed up together. Both of them were after the same girl. That probably had something to do with it. Showing off for her.”

“How many times does that tale get told?” Jenny laughs her big laugh and settles back in her chair. “Small town boys and their flirty little girls.”

The phrase makes me smile. “Taylor was flirty all right. Those two boys hovered around her like bees around honey. She was partial to the two of them, but she was queen of the school, and everybody loved her.”

“Yeah, I knew a few girls like that in high school,” Jenny says dryly. “They made the rest of us miserable.”

“I believe Taylor was different. Sure, she was pretty and full of piss and vinegar, and smart, too. But Jeanne said all the girls liked her.”

“I'd have to see that to believe it. Not casting doubt on your sainted wife, you understand.”

I grin. Jenny's the only person with the nerve to poke fun at me about Jeanne. It's been good for me. “Well, you may be right. How am I to know?”

“How did Jeanne know so much about these girls?”

“I'm going to get us some cheese and crackers and I'll tell you about it,” I say. Jenny has an aversion to all things involved with the kitchen, so I'm more familiar with her kitchen than she is. I bring the snacks to the table and sit back down. “We found out we weren't going to have children, so Jeanne decided to go to work at the school. She also substitute taught and chaperoned afterschool activities. The girls loved her.” I stop for a minute, lost in ghosts of teenagers giggling in the kitchen with Jeanne, and the way her eyes sparkled when they confided in her. “Taylor was her favorite, though.”

“I don't recall meeting Taylor. What happened? Did she leave town for the bright lights and big city and the boys were stuck in the army? That sounds about as smart as most small-town Texas boys.”

I'm surprised Jenny doesn't know the story. But she grew up in Bobtail, the county seat, and only moved to Jarrett Creek when she found out we needed a lawyer.

“Taylor was set to go off to college in Dallas, but when Woody got rejected by the army, Taylor ended up staying here to marry him.”

She frowns. “Is it the same Woody Patterson who lives out east of town?”

“One and the same.”

“He came into the office a while back to get something notarized. I thought his wife's name was Laurel.”

“That's right. Woody and Taylor didn't even last a year before they called it quits. They divorced right after Jack came back so torn up. Taylor went off to college and now she's married and living in Dallas.”

Jenny crosses her long legs out in front of her. She shakes her head. “The way people's lives can turn. Gives you pause.”