Scapegoat: A Rural Noir by JD Salyers

Author:JD Salyers [Salyers, JD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: grit lit, country redneck noir
Publisher: Betsy Belle Books
Published: 2016-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Glory’s mother was right - the bridge wasn’t hard to find. It was almost three in the morning now and there wasn’t much traffic, so he pushed his speed a little. He was getting tired as hell, but he needed to know.

The bridge sat tall, its arch lit by a chain of bright white lights that curved over the dark, wide water below. There really was a park here, too, just like the name said. At the base of the bridge there was a small parking lot and then a wide stretch of grass and benches that seemed to disappear into the shadow of the bridge.

Eli pulled into the parking lot and looked out through the windshield. The park was dimly lit with a circle of streetlights around the perimeter, shining halfheartedly down on the grass below. A few empty, cold-looking metal benches sat here and there, with a trash can beside every one. He thought the big rock-shaped thing farther away might be a water fountain, but he wasn’t sure. It was a decent use of space that was probably pretty ugly before they put the park here. He wondered if he was wasting his time.

The minute he thought it, he saw movement, right at the edge of the shadow. Somebody was here.

He wished that he had a picture of Glory Ann. At least then he could ask proper questions and not look like he was lurking around for ugly reasons. He didn’t have one, though, so he was left with this. He got out of the truck and walked toward the shadows.

He stopped just under the edge of the bridge, where the light still held. The night was getting colder, and his breathe was white in the dim lamps overhead. The river water rushed by, about a hundred feet off to his right.

Otherwise, there was silence. No cars on the bridge overhead, no clue to help him locate the shadow he’d just seen. Directly under the bridge, to his left, was complete darkness. Not even a flicker. But someone was there. It was that feeling, that weighty pull of attention you could feel, even if you couldn’t see where it was coming from.

So he stood there, waiting. Peering as best he could into the dark under the bridge. Unsure, but not willing to leave just yet.

“You need some help, son?”

The voice made him jump, just as a hand landed heavy on his shoulder. He spun around to see a cop standing there, one of the city boys in blue, with his equipment hanging off his belt. He grinned at Eli’s scare. “You lost?”

Eli shook his head no and fought the urge to run. He had no reason to, not really even a desire to, but the instinct was long bedded in him. He planted himself and forced a return smile.

“You look guilty of something, all right,” the cop said. His badge told Eli that his name was Clay. “You got a license?”

“Yes, sir. I’m looking for somebody, actually,” he said, pulling his wallet out and digging through it.

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