Mean Streak

Jeff remained where he was and brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his trouser leg. “Of course my marital issues are entirely personal, and I wouldn’t have aired them to you at all, except for the fact that they have become your problem.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m prepared to leave Bannock’s fate to the federal government. My wife is my only concern. His influence has turned her into a criminal and made her mentally and emotionally imbalanced. For instance, yesterday she told detectives from the sheriff’s office that the baby your sister miscarried was…” He looked away, as though unable to speak the nasty allegation.

“Wuz whut?”

“Was…” He let out a long sigh. “Fathered by one of you.”

Despite his broken ribs, Norman jack-knifed up. “Hell you say!”

Jeff raised his hands in surrender. “Not I, Norman. Emory.”

“Well that’s a damn lie,” he said, jabbing the air with his index finger for emphasis.

“I should hope so. The incest notwithstanding, any sexual congress with Lisa would be statutory rape because of her age. As I’m sure you’re aware.”

Norman looked across at his brother, whose reaction was hard to decipher, but Jeff decided it contained equal portions of fear and fury.

Jeff fed both. “Lisa was questioned by a female deputy. I wasn’t privy to that interview, but based on how fondly Emory spoke about your sister, I got the impression that the two of them have forged a strong bond.”

“Lisa thinks the sun rises and sets in Dr. Smith.”

“Hmm.” Jeff tugged his lower lip as though he found that very troublesome. “I guessed as much. I’m a

fraid your sister will back anything Emory told the authorities about you. Which is why I felt compelled to inform you that while you’re sequestered in here, your family name is being maligned. You’re being accused of the worst sort of depravity and an egregious crime.”

He purposefully used the big words this time. The brothers probably didn’t know all of them, but the language tolled impending doom for the Floyd brothers, and that was Jeff’s intention.

Norman looked over at Will. “We gotta get out of here. Shut this down before it goes any further.”

Will gave his brother a thumbs-up and began bicycling his legs to push the sheet off them.

Jeff stood. “Wait! You can’t leave the hospital. Your conditions are far too serious. I wouldn’t have told you if I thought—”

“Don’t you worry about us, mister.” Norman started tearing at the tape that secured the IV shunt to his hand. “Thanks for coming by and letting us know. We’ll take it from here.”

“Well,” Jeff said, “since you’re insistent on taking immediate action… It had occurred to me that we could be of help to each other.”

Norman stopped pulling on the tape. Will hummed his eagerness to learn what Jeff had in mind. He even made a rolling motion with his hand as though to say, Let’s hear it.

Jeff kept his expression thoughtful and serious, but up his sleeve he was laughing.

* * *

Hayes’s statement caused Emory’s heart to lurch. “Jeff is next on your list? What does that mean?”

“I know what it means,” Jack said. “For God’s sake, Hayes, you can’t take this matter into your own hands.”

Hayes turned away from them and went over to the table. “What did you get to eat?” He removed a sandwich from one of the bags, folded back the foil wrapper, and inspected the ingredients between the thick slices of bread.

“Did you hear what I said?” Jack asked.

“I can’t take matters into my own hands.”

“Before I’ll let you do something stupid, I’ll have you thrown in jail for the Floyds. Swear to God, I will.”

“Enough with the threats, Jack. Eat.”