On it, he’d scratched in shaky but careful capital letters, I did it.
It took no time to read that but Hix barely got that job done before the guy was flipping the pad around again and writing.
He set the pen aside one more time and turned the paper Hix’s way.
Hix read it.
I’m sorry.
A prickle slid over his scalp.
Hix looked to his face and whispered, “Why?”
The man’s blank eyes stared into his.
“I’d like to be able to tell her why,” Hix shared.
The man continued to stare in his eyes before he slumped in his seat, tucked his chin in his throat and stared at his bound hands.
“You got your confession, Sheriff, now get this man his evaluations,” his attorney demanded. “It’s clear where this is leading and we should get there as soon as we can because this man needs help. Not a stay in a penitentiary.”
Hix looked to him then to their guy.
He was still staring at his hands.
“You didn’t want to, did you?” Hix guessed quietly.
The man stared at his hands.
“He gave you a ride and you were grateful. You were tired. It was hot. You wanted to ride a while. You wanted out from under the sun. He gave you that ride and you were grateful.”
The man stared at his hands but his shoulders pressed into his ears slightly.
He’d been grateful.
“What came next?” Hix asked.
The man said nothing.
“Sheriff,” the attorney butted in.
“What came next?” Hix pushed.
“Sheriff,” the attorney clipped. “This gentleman needs evaluated before you ask another question.”
“What came next?” Hix repeated.
The guy didn’t speak.
“Sheriff, I really must ask you—” the attorney tried.
“Why did you kill Nat Calloway?” Hix pressed.
The guy suddenly moved, making Hix’s body go tight. But he just grabbed the pen, pulled the paper to him, and wrote in a diagonal scrawl that was nothing like the careful, block letters he’d written before.
He set the pen aside and shoved the pad at Hix, not turning it like he’d done the other two times he’d shared.
Hix reached out and turned it himself.
I don’t know. Can you tell me?
Hix’s eyes cut to his face.
There was nothing there.
Hollow.
“No,” Hix said quietly. “But if you let the doctors see to you, maybe we can find out.”
The man jerked up his chin.
“Can this be done now?” the attorney asked impatiently.
“It can be done,” Hix murmured, about to get up but the guy grabbed the pen and reached for the pad.
He scrawled, set the pen aside and shoved the paper to Hix.
Hix stood and turned the pad his way again.
It’s never done.
Hix looked at him and replied, “No, man, it isn’t. And the way it goes, it never will be.” He turned his attention to Larry. “Let’s get him in a cell and get him a meal.”
Larry nodded.
Hix looked to the attorney, to the empty soul who wandered alone in order to protect the world from the unknown, inexplicable urges that lie within, the man who killed Nat Calloway, and then he walked out the door.
Greta and Shaw hung back when he walked through the back door that night.
But Mamie was on him in a way he knew they’d been watching for him to return home, and Corinne was on him two seconds later.
He held his girls to him but his eyes were on Shaw and Greta who were standing in the mouth to the mudroom, Shaw’s arm around Hix’s woman.
Shaw gave his sisters some time before he called, “Guys, let Dad take his jacket off. Dad, you want a beer?”
“Yeah, kid,” Hix answered as Corinne slid away but Mamie held on.
“You okay, Daddy?” Corinne asked.
“Yeah, honey,” Hix answered gently.
Mamie leaned into him, arms still around him, just arching her back and looking up at him.
“Yeah?” she asked for confirmation.
He glided his hand over her hair. “Yeah, baby. Now let me get my jacket off, okay? You can keep on huggin’ me after that.”
“’Kay,” she agreed and did just that, unclamping her hold on him for just long enough for him to shed his jacket and put it on a hook, then clamping on to him again so he didn’t bother to take his gun belt off and he had to shuffle from the mudroom down the short hall and into the kitchen with his baby girl attached to him.
The smells he was experiencing hit him before he hit the kitchen though, and he was reminded that Greta had been in his office to meet him for lunch, something he didn’t have, he’d only had the coffee that Ida had brought in from Babycakes.
“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes to the stove.
“Greta showed us how to make Mexican skillet casserole,” Corinne told him.
“Excellent,” Hix muttered.
“We’ll go set the table, help me, Mame, Cor,” Shaw said, handing Hix a beer.
“Sure,” Corinne replied, moving to a cupboard.
“Mame, babe,” Shaw urged gently, holding his hand out to his little sister.
She hesitated before she let her dad go, took her brother’s hand and held it even while Shaw went to the drawer and got out the cutlery.
The kids left.
Greta, standing at the stove sprinkling cheese on a skillet filled with what looked like heaven in ground beef form, turned her head his way.
He set his beer aside and moved right into her space.
Bag of cheese still in hand, she wrapped her arms around him.
“You good?” she whispered in his ear.
“Better,” he whispered back.
“You tell Faith?”
He nodded, her hair catching on his whiskers as he did it with his jaw pressed to the side of her head. “Her hair looks great.”
She gave him a squeeze and held on.
Hix held her back, and after a time, he tipped his chin down to put his lips to her ear.
“That man is broken.”
“He gave that impression.”
“But whatever snapped in him to make him kill Nat annihilated him.”
She just held him tighter.
“It’s the only time a murder was solved where the answer makes sense,” he shared.
“How’s that?” she asked softly.
“My guess, even he can’t control the demons that moved him to do it, he’s just got ’em. And if he was holding them back before, when they took over in that moment, whatever he had left, they took it with them. Only thing he’s got is the will to survive and the remorse he feels for taking a man’s life. In other words, there is no answer, there is no reason. It’s incomprehensible, just like it always is.”
She started stroking his back.
After a time, she said, “I need to feed my man and his kids. They insisted on waiting. But it’s late and I heard Shaw’s stomach rumbling so we should get down to that.”
What she meant was, I need to give my man normal with his woman and kids around, fill his belly and be in a position to assess where his head is at so I can do something about it if I need to and we should get down to that.
“Yeah,” he replied but didn’t let go.
She didn’t shift or move an inch.
In other words, she didn’t let go either.
The Drake Family
“Hey,” Shaw whispered urgently, catching Mamie, who had her mind on other things and was heading into the kitchen.