Mercy (Buchanan-Renard 2)

“So could you go outside?”

“You want me to go out into your backyard?”

John Patrick solemnly nodded. Theo glanced at Michelle and caught the twinkle in her eye.

“Okay?” the boy asked.

“Yeah, okay,” Theo agreed. “And what do you want me to do when I get out there?”

“Could you shoot Lois for me?”

He knew the kid was going to ask that question, but it still shocked the hell out of him. He was speechless.

“No, Theo isn’t going to shoot Lois for you,” his father said in exasperation. “You don’t want Dr. Mike’s boyfriend to get into trouble with the law, do you?”

“No, Daddy, I don’t.”

“It’s just as well,” Michelle said. She patted the little boy as though she were consoling him. “If Theo shot Lois, he’d just make her mad.”

“She’s mean when she’s mad,” the kid told Theo.

The screen door banged once, then again and again in the background. “Go and wash up for supper,” Cherry told John Patrick.

The little boy gave Theo a look of disappointment and then went to the sink.

“He’s kind of a bloodthirsty little boy, isn’t he?” he whispered to Michelle.

“He’s a sweetheart,” she replied.

“If I were Lois, I’d run for the woods.”

The screen door banged again, and suddenly the floor under Theo’s feet began to vibrate. It sounded like a herd of buffalo was running through the living room. Then a slew of boys of various ages and sizes came lumbering into the kitchen. Theo lost count after five.

Mr. Freeland was the last to enter the crowded kitchen. Elliott had to squeeze against the refrigerator to let the man in.

Freeland could have been mistaken for one of the boy’s friends, except he was dressed in a shirt and tie. He was just a little over five feet tall and rail thin. He wore thick horn-rimmed glasses that slid down the bridge of his nose. He pushed them up with his index finger.

“Mr. Freeland’s the music teacher over at the high school,” Daryl explained.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Freeland.”

There were two of Daryl’s boys behind Theo’s chair, making it impossible for him to stand. He reached around to shake Freeland’s hand.

“Please call me Conrad,” he insisted. “Cherry, Daryl,” he added with a nod to each of them. Then he turned to Michelle and nodded again. “Mike.”

“Conrad,” Cherry said, nodding back. “How’s Billie doing?”

“Billie’s my wife,” Conrad explained to Theo. “And she’s doing just fine. The baby’s only getting us up once a night now, so we’re both getting more sleep. Billie sends her regards.”

“Boys, move out of the way and let Mr. Freeland sit down beside Theo so they can talk,” Cherry said.

There was a good deal of shuffling in the kitchen as the children took their places at the table. Theo moved closer to Michelle to give Conrad room.

“I can’t stay but a minute,” Conrad said as he pulled the chair out and sat. “Billie’s got supper waiting for me.” Turning his full attention to Theo, he said, “Daryl and Cherry understand the importance of an education for their eight boys. They’d like to see all of them go to college.”

Theo nodded. He wasn’t sure what more he was supposed to say.

“Now, Elliott has a four point in school. He’s going to try to get an academic scholarship, but those are hard to come by,” Conrad said. “He’s a hard worker and a very smart boy.”

“Thank you, Conrad,” Daryl said, as though he and not his son had just been given the compliment.

“We’re thinking Elliott could maybe get a full scholarship . . . with your help.”

“And how can I help?” Theo asked, bewildered.

“By getting him a football scholarship.”

Theo blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Elliott has what it takes to make the cut,” Conrad said. “He could be good, real good, with the proper . . . guidance.”

Everyone started talking at once then. “The St. Claire team was undefeated last year,” Cherry told Theo just as Daryl remarked, “It sounds like an impossible goal, but you could do it. Big Daddy Jake spoke so highly of you.”

“And your connections,” Conrad supplied.

Theo turned to Michelle. “Why did I know your dad was behind this?”

She shrugged, then smiled. “Daddy likes you.”

“Big Daddy was thinking that if they could see our boy shine on that field, well then, they’d make him an offer and pay his college expenses,” Daryl explained.

Theo put a hand up. “Hold on a minute . . .”

They ignored his protest. “They’re always looking for good linebackers,” Conrad said.

“That’s right, they are,” Daryl agreed. “But Big Daddy thinks that because Elliott is so fast, he could maybe run with the ball too.”

Michelle nudged Theo to get his attention. “The scouts do go to the St. Claire games to see the talent.”

Then Conrad nudged him to get him to turn to him. “Why don’t we get started?”

“Started?” Theo asked as he rubbed his temples. He was developing one hell of a headache. “Doing what?”

Conrad pulled out some folded papers from his back pocket and put them on the table. Then he reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a smaller piece of paper and a stubby yellow pencil, and looked expectantly at Theo.

“Where did you attend college?”

“Excuse me?”

Conrad patiently repeated the question.

“Michigan,” Theo answered. “Why do you want to know . . .”

“That’s a big school, isn’t it?” Cherry asked.

“Yes,” Conrad answered.

“I imagine it’s a fine school too,” Daryl remarked.

Theo glanced around the table and noticed the others, including the children, were staring at him. Everyone seemed to know what was going on. Everyone but him.

“Did Big Daddy suggest that you talk to me about schools?” he asked. Good God, now he was calling the old man Daddy.

No one answered his question. Then Conrad asked, “And you played football, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“And then you went on to law school.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Theo still responded. “That’s right.”

“Did you stay on in Michigan to get the law degree?”

What in thunder was going on? “No,” he answered. “I got my MBA and law back east.”

“What’s an MBA?” Cherry asked.

Michelle answered. “A master’s in business administration,” she said.

“And law too. Don’t that beat all.” Daryl sounded in awe.

“Yeah, well, lots of people get —”

Conrad interrupted him. “Where exactly did you get these degrees?”

“Yale.”

“Oh, my, that’s a fine school,” Cherry said.

Conrad nodded. “I imagine your grades were impressive. I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked as he furiously wrote on his paper.

It all clicked, and Theo couldn’t figure out why he’d been so slow on the uptake. The guy was interviewing him for a position at the high school.

Theo decided he was going to have to have a little talk with Jake as soon as possible. Set him straight.

“I bet you’ve still got your old playbooks too, don’t you?” Conrad asked him then.

“‘Playbooks’?”

“Football playbooks,” Michelle explained.

She was smiling sweetly, and she was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort and confusion. He decided he needed to have a private talk with her too.

“Okay, this has gone far enough.” His voice held a firm, no-nonsense tone. “There’s been a misunderstanding that I need to clear up right now. You see, I stopped for gas on my way to Bowen. And this kid —”

It was as far as he got. Michelle wouldn’t let him continue. She put her ha

nd on top of his and said, “You did keep your old playbooks, didn’t you?”

“Why would you think that?”

“It’s a guy thing.”

“Yeah, well, as a matter of fact I did keep a couple of them. But,” he hastily added, “they’re packed away with all my other junk in the attic.”

“Couldn’t you have one of your brothers send them to you? You could ask him to overnight them.”

“And then what?”

“You could go to the next practice with me and look the team over.”

Elliott pressed forward. “We sure would appreciate it.”

Everyone started talking again about the team, everyone but little John Patrick. The boy was trying to get to Theo’s gun. He kept pushing the kid’s hand away. He felt as though he’d just been dropped into the middle of a foreign land where no one understood a word he said.

“I’m not a football coach!” he yelled. When everyone quieted down, he nodded emphatically. “That’s right. You heard me. I’m not a football coach.”

He’d finally taken control, and he felt inordinately pleased with himself as he sat back in his chair and waited for the truth to sink in.

The announcement didn’t faze them. “These boys are mighty eager to learn,” Conrad pressed. “But I’m not going to pressure you, Theo. No, sir, I’m not. We don’t do things like that in Bowen. Do we, Daryl? We’re laid back.”

“Yes, we’re laid back,” he agreed.

Conrad tore off a piece of paper, bent over the table, and wrote something down. Then he folded the paper and looked at Theo again.

“The principal of our school is in Memphis, but I talked to him long distance before I drove over here.” He pushed the folded paper toward Theo. “We both think you’ll be happy with this.”

He stood and nodded to Cherry. “I can’t keep Billie waiting any longer, and I sure thank you for letting me interrupt your supper hour. Theo, I look forward to seeing you at our practice tomorrow. Mike knows the where and when.”

He handed Theo the legal-sized papers he’d placed next to the folded note, shook his hand as he told him it was a pleasure talking with him, and then worked his way through the boys to the door. He paused at the doorway. “You wouldn’t happen to have a teacher’s certificate, would you, Theo?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so, but I thought I should ask. It’s all right. You needn’t worry. The board of education will work with us on this, you being a special circumstance and all. Good night, everybody.”

Theo didn’t rush after Freeland to set him straight. He decided he could wait until practice the next day to explain things. Without the chaos that surrounded him in the small kitchen, calmer heads would prevail.

“Mama, when are we gonna eat?” John Patrick asked.

“I’m putting it on the table right this minute.”

“We should be going,” Theo said to Michelle.

“You’ll stay to supper?” Cherry asked. “We’ve got plenty.”

He shook his head. “Ordinarily I’d take you up on your offer, but the fact is my stomach isn’t up to a meal just yet. I ate some of Jake’s gumbo, and it was a little too spicy for me. My stomach’s giving me fits.”

It was a lie, but Michelle thought he’d told it well. Cherry was nodding in sympathy. Daryl looked a little suspicious.

“We always have enough to feed our guests.”

“He’s from the big city, Daryl,” Michelle reminded him as though that explained everything.

“I forgot about that,” he said. “I guess Jake’s gumbo would upset your stomach if you weren’t used to hot food.”

“I could make you a cup of my special tea,” Cherry offered. “It should settle you down in no time at all.”

“I sure would appreciate that.”

Daryl nodded. “Fix him up then, Cherry. Mike, do you mind changing this bandage for me while you’re here?”

And so Theo drank hot, bitter tea in a hot, muggy kitchen while Michelle rebandaged Daryl’s hand and Cherry fed her children. John Patrick insisted on moving his plate next to Theo, and by the time the child finished eating, Theo’s stomach was growling. It took extreme discipline not to grab one of the homemade biscuits out of the kid’s hand.

They left the family after Theo had finished his third cup of tea. John Patrick took hold of Theo’s hand and officially walked him onto the front porch. The little boy tugged on Theo’s shirt and said, “Tomorrow’s my birthday. Are you gonna get me a present?”

“That depends,” Theo replied. “You have anything specific in mind?”

“Maybe you could come back with a bigger gun.” He let go of Theo’s hand and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t tell Mama I asked you for a present.”

Michelle had already gone down the steps and was waiting for Theo by the car.

“That kid,” Theo remarked as he backed the car onto the road. “I’ve got a feeling we’ll be reading about him in about fifteen years.”

“He’s an angel.”

“He’s bloodthirsty,” he countered. “I don’t get it. He’s got at least four older brothers . . . right?”

“Yes?”

“So how come they don’t tell this Lois to leave him the hell alone? I used to look out for my younger brothers and sisters. I wouldn’t let anyone mess with them. That’s what big brothers are supposed to do.”

“Do you still look out for them?”

“Do your brothers still look out for you?”

“They try,” she said. “Fortunately, Remy is in Colorado, so he can’t interfere in my life too much these days, and John Paul has always been a bit reclusive. Of course, he still shows up at the most unexpected times. I think Daddy sends out an SOS every once in a while.”

John Patrick was frantically waving to them. Michelle rolled down her window and waved back to the little boy.

Theo put the car in drive and headed toward Bowen. Glancing back at the child, he shook his head and said, “I’m telling you, that kid’s just not normal.”

She laughed. “He’s a perfectly normal little boy.”

“Lois isn’t a neighbor, is she?”

“So you noticed there aren’t any other houses on this stretch. No wonder you work for the Justice Department. You’re very observant.” “Hey, I’m on vacation,” he countered. “I’m allowed to be a little slow. So tell me, what exactly is Lois? A possum? No, I bet it’s a raccoon. God, it’s not a snake, is it? They can dig holes and —”

“Lois is an alligator.”

He slammed on the brakes and damn near wrecked the car, narrowly missing a big oak when he swerved off the road. Even though he knew alligators lived in the swamp — hell, he read National Geographic like everyone else, and he occasionally watched the Discovery Channel when he had insomnia — it still had never occurred to him that there would be any so close to a house.

And who in his right mind named an alligator Lois? “Are you telling me there’s a full-fledged, live alligator living in that kid’s backyard?”

The expression on Theo’s face was priceless. He looked as though he’d just found out there really was a bogeyman.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. The females are very territorial. Lois has decided their backyard belongs to her. She chases anyone who goes out there . . . or at least she did, until my brother moved her. And, by the way, I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Ben Nelson. Alligators are protected, and my brother could get into trouble.”

“Do you people name all your alligators?”

“Just some.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Jeez,” he whispered.

“You ready to go back to Boston?”

“Not before I go fishing. So tell me, how do I get back to your place?”

She gave him directions, and before he knew it, they were in St. Claire, where there were actually sidewalks. When he turned the corner at an honest to goodness traffic light, he could see the golden arches looming in the d

istance.

“Ah,” he sighed. “Civilization.”

“I’m still going to cook a healthy dinner when we get home,” she said. “But I figured . . .”

“What?”

“You deserved a treat.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because you were starving when you were sitting in that kitchen drinking hot tea . . . because you didn’t grab the biscuit in John Patrick’s hand that you were eyeing like a hungry wolf . . . and because . . .”

“What?”

“You let Daddy take advantage.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A whole day had passed since the package had been delivered. Cameron waited again with the others in John’s library for Dallas to arrive to give them Monk’s report.

The waiting was making him crazy. Dear God, how had he arrived at this place? What had happened to him? He had had such dreams, such hopes when he’d started out. Where had it all gone wrong?

Now he felt as though he were trapped in a ghoulish game of beat the clock. Every hour that passed was an hour closer to the iron bars slamming shut on him. When he closed his eyes, he could hear the sound of the door locking him in.

“We can’t just sit on our hands and do nothing,” Cameron said. “It’s been a day now. The clock’s ticking. We’ve got to do something and do it fast.”

Preston agreed. “I say we drive to Bowen tonight.”

“And what do you propose we do when we get there?” John asked.

“Anything is better than sitting here waiting for the police to come and get us,” Preston argued. “The longer we wait —”

Cameron cut him off. “I’m through waiting. If I have to take matters into my own hands, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

John slammed his fist down on the desk. “The hell you are,” he roared. “We’re in this together, and you aren’t going to do anything unless we all agree. Do I make myself clear?”

“Since when did you become our leader?” Cameron muttered. Shaken by John’s fury, he tried to regain the upper hand. “I don’t remember voting for you,” he blustered.

“I made all of you a fortune,” John said. “And that makes me leader.”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Preston said. “Everyone just calm down and try to be reasonable. Maybe Dallas will have some good news for us.”