The Devil's Laughter by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-12-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

“Where is Link, Father?” Gerard asked. He, the sheriff, and Cliff stood in the den of Link’s house.

The old priest shook his head. “I don’t know. He dropped us off and then went back to town. He’s been gone several hours.”

“Here he comes,” Paul said, looking out the window and recognizing Link’s Bronco.

Link walked in. There were bloodstains on his shirt and jacket.

“Are you hurt?” Anne asked.

“It isn’t my blood.”

“What have you been up to now?” Ray asked.

“Getting some answers to some questions. And doing it my way. I’ll change shirts, build me a drink, and then we’ll talk.”

“Link, it’s full dark out,” Gerard said. “It’s a dangerous time. I – ”

Link walked up the hall and closed the door to his bedroom.

“Asshole,” Gerard muttered under his breath.

“Suzanne and I made a huge pot of vegetable soup,” Anne said. “And baked bread. How about some dinner?”

“I’d love it,” Cliff said.

The men were digging in when Link returned, made himself a drink, and sat down at the dining room table. He had been wearing gloves when he’d first entered the house. Now the men could see his hands were bruised and slightly swollen.

“The guy you shot today is dead. His name is – was – Bruce Watkins.”

“I’m so overcome with grief I’ll probably not sleep a wink tonight.”

Cliff dunked a hunk of fresh-baked bread into his soup and stuck it in his mouth, chewing silently.

“I’m glad to hear it, Link. Carl Russell is probably not going to live, either. Dr. Bradshaw – who by the way is the only doctor we now have who is functioning in this crazy town – says that Carl has massive internal injuries. You have anything to say about that, Link?”

“You want me to send flowers?”

“Jesus, Link. Nobody’s that cold.”

“Just me and Dirty Harry, I guess.”

“Link,” Cliff said, “nobody is blaming you for what you did this afternoon. It’s my understanding that you had no choice in the matter. But just driving off and leaving a badly injured man to die is ... well, appalling.”

Link’s smile was hard. “You mean it’s not the American way, Cliff?”

“Well, yes, if you want to put it that way.”

“This isn’t America here, Cliff. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Ray asked. “If it isn’t America, what is it?”

“Hell,” Link said softly.

“That’s a little melodramatic, isn’t it?” Gerard asked.

“Let’s all just leave,” Suzanne suggested.

“That’s what they want us to do,” Link said. “Besides that, it won’t work.” He rose from the table and took his drink into the den, sitting down in his chair.

Ray followed him and sat down on an ottoman. “How do you know it won’t work?” Before Link could reply, the sheriff said, “What’s wrong with us leaving and seeking outside help? We’ll be gone one night and back in the morning with help. We’ll have to do some tall talking to convince people, but I think we can do it. And I’m not alone in that. So does Cliff, Gerard, and our families.”

“And you think you’ll return to what?” Link asked.

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