Страница 60 из 78
“I might move to town,” Qui
“Where will you go?”
“I had an invite to move in with Ophelia,” Qui
Jean smiled. “I wondered how long that would take.”
“No lectures on me living in sin?”
“Not from me,” Jean said. “Sin can sometimes be fun. But some people may not approve. Just don’t make a quick decision, with that election coming up.”
Qui
“Lots of folks believe in you,” Jean said. “Do you know how many people stop me on the street to thank me for all you’ve done? Or at church? Or the Rexall?”
“How many folks are going to walk up to my momma and tell her the worst?”
“Think about Ophelia,” she said. “That’s a nice thing for Caddy. But once I’ve moved out, she and Jason can take the whole upstairs till they get settled.”
Qui
“Caddy told me you’re getting a lot of pressure to solve what happened to Diane Tull,” Jean said. “And that mess that came after.”
“Yep.”
“That’s why you wanted to know about your father and that gang.”
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Qui
“No it wasn’t.”
“He’s a dishonorable man,” Qui
Jean stared up at Qui
“Just one thing,” Qui
“It won’t bother you to see him, not knowing why he left us?” Jean said. “I’m worried about you more than him if y’all came face-to-face.”
“Shit,” Qui
“But it could help you,” Jean said, “with the DA’s office and the mess they got you in. If he’d tell you the truth.”
Qui
“What does it matter?” Qui
This time, Jean was silent. She met her son’s eye and tilted her head. “He’s not dead,” she said. “Not yet.”
Qui
“Because your Uncle Van goes to see him a few times a year,” Jean said. “He comes back and runs his mouth to me as if I give a shit.”
“Van lied to me, then.”
“He’s just protectin’ you.”
Qui
“Your father hasn’t been out west for almost ten years,” she said. “He’s been working at some horse farm in Hinds County, getting himself clean. Some little town called Pocahontas.”
Qui
Qui
Qui
“I’m looking for a man named Jason Colson,” Qui
The man’s smile dropped. He shook his head. “Never heard of him.”
“He’s not wanted,” Qui
“Why you looking for him, then?”
“It’s a personal matter.”
The man shook his head some more. “Sorry,” he said. “Cain’t help you.”
Qui
“You put that together?” Qui
The man craned his neck and scratched his cheek. “Took me three years,” he said. “It’s completely made of Popsicle sticks. Had me a guy come in last year and offer me five hundred dollars for it. You believe that? I told him I couldn’t take it. It brings too many people pleasure to see it and get to thinking about the wicked ways of the world. God could take our asses out again.”
“You bet.”
“I’m a preacher, too,” the man said. “We got services on Sunday. Figured the teepee would make people think on things. I became fully ordained through a course on the Internet. Only cost me fifty dollars.”
“Yes, sir.” Qui
The man wore a T-shirt had a big fishing hook printed on it and reading Hooked on Jesus. He had a large belly, with the shirt riding up above his blue jeans several inches and stained with barbecue sauce. “You from Jackson?”
“Jericho.”
“Where the hell’s that?”
Qui
“Now, who’s this guy again?”
“White man in his sixties, a little shorter than me,” Qui
“The stunt fella?” the man asked. “You’re looking for that old stunt fella? Hell, yeah. What’s his name?”
“Colson,” Qui
“Yeah, yeah, I know’d him,” the man said. “I think he rented a trailer from Mr. Birdsong. He’s got him some land down the road divided up in little lots. Ain’t much. But he don’t charge much, either.”
“Where?” Qui
“You say you’re some kind of kin?”
• • •
Qui