Dead River: A John Maynard and Abby Sinclair Novel (Book 1) by Lightle Bill

Author:Lightle, Bill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

A thunderstorm was crashing around us as we crossed the hospital parking lot toward my car. It had been clear and hot most of the time we were with Tony. Things changed abruptly. I ran holding Abby’s hand while large raindrops pounded us both. The cool rain on our bodies felt good.

Water accumulated fast on the black asphalt and steam rose high. The water rushed into large concrete run-off pipes that would take it to the Flint River. Everything led to the river. Some things were natural and others weren’t.

I drove out of Cordele and both of us looked for patrol cars from the sheriff’s office. Neither one mentioned what the other was doing. We were thinking the same thing.

As we got closer to Lake Blackshear, the rain was heavier and making it hard for me to see clearly out of the windshield. Like my air conditioning had been, the windshield wipers were worn and needed replacing. I pulled into the parking lot at Stripling’s Diner to wait out the weather. I parked close enough to the door to clearly read the painted white sign on the big window. Stripling’s Diner: Where Everyone’s Family. In the parking lot was a sheriff’s patrol car with two men in uniforms sitting in the front seat. I turned my car off to wait.

“Do you think maybe Tony’s wrong?” I said. “That he just believes someone in a car owned by a sheriff’s deputy ran him off the road. Someone was trying to kill him. Sometimes people get things in their minds that aren’t true, but they hold on to them for a long time. Maybe forever. But they’re never true, and never will be true.”

“Maybe so, John. But he sounded convincing to me. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man to make up things.”

“People who are wrong can be the most convincing sometimes. But they’re still wrong.”

“You’re right. But something bad happened to Tony that night. And I just believe that he knows what he saw. I believe what he’s telling us is true.”

“You know how we can be sure?”

“No. Tell me. How?”

“When the rain stops, you can get out and go ask those two fellows in that patrol car what happened that night when Tony wrecked. Maybe Luther Wright is one of them.”

I patted her left leg and looked into her eyes. Abby didn’t answer but turned from me and looked out of the car window at the patrol car as the rain began easing, the thunder no longer heard. I started my car and drove away from Stripling’s parking lot leaving the patrol car, and the men inside, behind.

In the distance, beyond the lake and toward Albany, we could see dark clouds still moving, low and fast, as fast as if they were late for something important that had already happened.

“Maybe I will ask them, John. Maybe I will. But not today.”

“Yeah, you can do it later.”

I took Abby home, and we had a couple glasses of chardonnay as the storm passed altogether.

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