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Then Betty poured herself a cup of hot, black coffee and grabbed a sandwich from the tray. After a few bracing gulps and some big bites of ham and cheese, she lifted a small suitcase onto the table. She laid it flat down and unzipped it. Then Betty brought out a laptop, charger, extension cord, some fresh legal pads, a half dozen sharply pointed number two pencils, and a projector.
“You do have a screen, don’t you?” She looked at me.
I nodded to the only uncovered wall in the room. “That’ll do?”
She turned around and looked at it, then glared at Deke with distaste. “So, no screen?”
“If we had a fucking screen, we’d put up a fucking screen.” My father growled at her. “You got something to show us, put it on the goddamn wall, or go back home and wait just like I told you to do.”
Betty opened her mouth to say something, then with visible effort snapped it shut again.
“Shut the hell up, Deke,” I growled back at him. Then I turned to Betty and asked again, “This work for you? If not, we can get you a screen. But if this is about you and my father having a pissing contest, I’m warning you both right now, we ain’t got time for that shit.”
“Of course, it’s not about that.” She snapped at me. Then she glowered at Deke “I’m just worried about the glare from the lights.”
“Never had a problem before. Projector goes on, lights go off.” Deke muttered, but he moved off his ass and went to help Betty set things up.
In no time at all, she was standing in front of the blank white wall with the projector remote in her hand. She reached into her purse, pulled out a pair of glasses, put them on, and began. Betty explained things as if giving a lecture on real estate…all professional and business like. If it wasn’t for the tremor in her voice and the shake of her hand, she would seem to be calm and cool.
“We bought the house just last year. It had been built on speculation, and I liked the whole showcase, including the furnishing, so everything you will see in the pre-sale promotional home photos is just about how it is now. I thought it might be helpful to see the before and after. So, I made up these slides showing what the rooms looked like before I came home and found my niece missing and juxtaposed them with the pictures of what the house looked like after she was taken.” Here she paused, lifted her nose slightly in the air and looked at my father. “Juxtaposed means to put themside by side for comparison, Deke.”
“I know what the hell it means, Betty. I’ve got a high school education just like you have, so get off your damn high horse.” Deke snarled out. “And by the way, where is your old man? Liddy’s practically his stepdaughter. Shouldn’t Henry be standing here while you explain juxtaposing and bitch about screens to the guy you used to bang?”
“Shut up,” Betty told him but with less ferocity than I expected. “He’s away on a business thing, he’s going to be flying home as soon as he can. Meanwhile, I’ve been keeping him in the loop. Now pay attention.”
For the next few hours, we watched as Betty went through the slides over and over. It was like a goddamn train wreck, hard to see but none of us could look away. The upended furniture, the broken lamps, the smashed glass. I had been so busy trying to find Liddy that I hadn’t stopped to think, hadn’t tried to imagine, what it had been like for her. The photos told the whole story…how hard she fought…how scared she must have been. The house looked like a hurricane had gone through it.
“Show us the third one again, Betty.” I told her. And that’s what we did. We looked at the pictures over and over trying to find comparisons, hints, clues, or anything that would help us. Then we printed them out and put them up on the board, and looked at them some more. We explained to Betty what we had done to find Liddy and how we had come to the conclusions that we had. Deke had gotten over his bullshit and was patient and forthcoming with all Betty’s questions. And on her part, Betty listened carefully without interrupting or spouting out judgment. When she insisted on talking to Jules Bonny himself, Deke made that connection.
As for me, I was just on the right side of losing my mind, and that tightrope was getting harder and harder to balance. I was dealing. It took all my strength, but I was dealing. Every time I felt the crazy, the insane, the murderous rage rearing up like a hot, slithering serpent inside of me I pressed that fucker down. I kept my cool and concentrated on finding my woman. I just had to figure out what I was missing.
Because there was something.
Something here.
I knew it. I could feel it, and my tired brain was screaming out to me that I was missing it. But what the hell it was eluded me.
“There’s something we’re missing.” Betty rasped out my thoughts. Her shoulders slumped, and her tired eyes had gone from swollen and bloodshot to thin, narrowed lines. Betty’s nails had been bitten to waning moons, and the ashtray in front of her was filled with cigarette butts smoked right down to the filter.
“I need another cup of coffee.” She said, but when she stood up, Betty stumbled and had to hold on to the edge of the table to stop herself from falling. Deke was immediately at her side.
“You don’t need more coffee, Betty.” He took her in his arms, and when he did she rested against him. “What you need is some damn rest. Take a breath, honey. Just take a breath and lean on me. I got you.”
Betty wrapped her arms around Deke, buried her head in his chest, and began to cry. Soft quiet whimpers at first gained strength, and more strength, until the huge sobs wracked her body and made it hard for her to stand. She cried and cried and cried. When my dad picked her up in his arms and carried her out the door, she was still crying. I envied Betty her tears and hoped that they gave her some kind of release.
My stomach growled and I growled back. But really, I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten. I had a fierce headache and needed a shower and a change of clothes because it had been a while since I had done either one of those things. Even the smallest comfort like the spray of water on my back, or the taste of peppermint toothpaste in my mouth seemed like a betrayal to Liddy. When Deke carried Betty out the door, and presumably to the bunk house for a couple of minutes of R&R, he had left the door open behind him. Now a cool breeze of night air blew in. It felt good, and I decided to take a breather. I left the projector on and stepped outside to a clear night. The sky was full of stars, and the sound of a couple of acoustic guitars strummed gently through the air. It was a quiet night on Abbot Hill, and I liked it when the compound was like this. There was a small fire in the pit, and a few of the guys were mellowing out around the low flames, drinking beer and playing music.
I heard the scuffle of boots hitting gravel behind me and a cold beer was put in my hand. Crix stood next to me for a while without saying anything. Then he put a hard hand down on my shoulder. “Let’s take a walk up to the pond. Stretch your legs, clear your head. Mask on first, brother.”
Mask on first. It was something that we said to each other, a reminder of self-care when things got too hot. We’d all heard it on every flight we’d ever been on.If there should be a change in cabin pressure...put your oxygen mask on first before helping others.
“You’re free-falling, man. You all are. Betty Owens just had to be carried out of the damn building after twelve solid hours of being in there with the door shut tight. You’re gonna burn out before you get there, brother.” Crix warned. “Let’s hike up to the pond and take a swim. It’ll give the pres. and Betty a chance to rest too. Clear your heads.”
“I’m missing something, Crix. I’m missing something and she’s out there.” My voice broke, and I rubbed a hard hand over cheeks that were suddenly wet. “I’ve done everything I can, and still…”
“Mask on, brother.” He said again. “You’ll find it, you’ll findher. But not unless you take a breath and step away. Because this unrelenting shit? It ain’t working for you. Come on. Been a while since I raced you to the top, old man.” He taunted and started to jog in place. But when he pushed me hard against the shoulder and gave himself a five-pace head start, instinct took over and I ran like hell after him.
Kid
