Page 131 of Fire and Bones
Tic.
Tic.
Tic.
I swallowed. Inhaled. Swallowed again.
The silence grew long.
Deery finally broke it.
“Your mother was with Amon Clock the day she was killed. Clock was an associate of the Warring brothers.”
“Pond scum. All of them.”
“When you and your sister were orphaned, Clock never reached out to help,” Deery guessed.
“The spineless toady always did the Warrings’ bidding.”
“A member of the Warring family ordered Clock not to help with your upbringing?”
“You got it.”
“Do you know that for a fact?” Deery asked.
“I know for a fact that those people are egotistical, vindictive bastards, always thinking they’re better than me and my kin and never missing a chance to stick it to us.”
“So you’re out for revenge,” Deery deduced further. “It’s been eighty years. Why now?”
“You’re damn right it’s been eighty years. Eighty years of torment and humiliation.”
Deery opened his mouth to follow up, but Lipsey was on a roll.
“When my daughter got sick, she couldn’t get the right medical care because the Warrings took away our insurance. When my husband’s business was going under, we found out it was because the Warrings had cut a sweeter deal with the main supplier and left the business high and dry. When my grandsons went to the new school in town, the Warring boys were there to make sure they were taunted.”
I shot a quick look at Deery, wondering what he was thinking. Lipsey’s litany of Warring offenses seemed almost cartoonishly cruel. My mind spun with a half dozen questions related to why Lipsey hadn’t long before packed up her family and herself and moved a thousand miles away. Inwardly, I sighed. No matter how bad it is, sometimes people just prefer to dig in and seethe.
“So you set fire to the Foggy Bottom properties and had Lew Warring shot.”
“You’ve got nothing points to me.”
“You didn’t do it yourself,” Deery said. “You used your grandsons.”
Tic.
Tic.
Tic.
A sucking noise overrode the dripping as Lipsey took another long drag. I noticed that the hand holding the cigarette was trembling.
The tension in the room was thick enough to roast in a pan.
Lipsey’s gaze crawled to me.
I looked deep into the hazel eyes. Saw nothing behind them. No anger. No joy. No buzz that comes with the thrill of engagement. They were empty, like those of a lizard sunning on a mudbank.
Tic.