Bring Me Children by David Martin

Author:David Martin [Martin, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-82425-7
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2012-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 25

Lyon is being pressed against an expanse of uniform that looks as if it was manufactured by a tent and awning company. Above the left pocket is stitched the word Deputy. Above the right pocket, in the same bowling shirt stitching, is Carl.

After struggling out of those massive arms, Lyon staggers back to see how many people are stuffed in that uniform.

“In a hurry, asshole?” the fat man asks, even his speech seemingly garbled by an excess of flesh.

Lyon tries to look around him. “Did you see someone out in the woods there?”

Carl turns ponderously toward the forest and then back to Lyon. The deputy says nothing.

“And where’s your car? I have to drive an hour from town to get up into these mountains, but everyone else keeps showing up here without a vehicle.”

Carl doesn’t comment on that either.

Lyon steps back for another look. “So I finally get to meet Le Grand Carl I’ve heard so much about — and there’s so much of you to hear about too.” Lyon isn’t sure why he’s acting so jocular. Nerves — or maybe it’s because of Claire. “What can I do for you, Deputy?”

“Come to see that nigger woman you got.”

When Carl takes a step toward the door, however, Lyon puts himself — shoeless, pants unzipped, shirt unbuttoned and hanging out — in the way. Feeling small and frail next to Carl, Lyon is surprised when the deputy retreats.

“Sorry, Deputy, but you can’t enter my residence without a warrant or probable cause, in pursuit of a felony suspect with reason to believe he might destroy evidence or endanger someone — it’s a constitutional thing.” Why am I being such a smartass?

But Lyon’s comments seem not to register with Carl, who removes a foil pouch from his pants pocket, takes out a plum-size handful of black tobacco, which he stuffs with some difficulty into his surprisingly small mouth.

“Nice touch.”

Carl offers an incomprehensible reply, working the plug to his cheek and then spitting. “Come to see that nigger woman you got.”

“So I gather.” Then Lyon connects with Carl’s sunken eyes, like something feral in there, staring out from a cave — Lyon realizing that this man, fat and stupid though he be, is not someone to be treated frivolously.

Carl spits over the porch railing and then reaches out to grab Lyon’s shoulder, the deputy grunting either from the effort or with contempt. “Move, asshole.”

“Take your hand —”

Carl moves him out of the way as easily as you would a child.

Lyon follows him into the kitchen. “Listen to me, Deputy —”

“Where’s the bitch?” he asks in a grim voice.

“To whom are you referring?”

Another grunt as Carl turns his bulk and heads for the living room like a sumo wrestler in a hurry. Lyon catches up with him in the middle of the room, grabbing his elbow, Carl swinging around to put one hand at Lyon’s neck, the other grasping the front of Lyon’s trousers, Carl suddenly — breathtakingly — lifting Lyon into the air,

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