Page 30 of The Forest of Lost Souls
“She went off the birth control and got herself knocked up.”
“But the baby was yours?” Vida asks.
Deacon’s hands go still. His expression is a disquieting mix of astonishment and keen vexation. “Tanya didn’t need more than what I gave her. Of course the baby was mine. You want to cut to the chase and do it now, see what I’ve got for you? You get it from me, you’ll never want it from anyone else.”
The impression of self-restraint that he projects might be less absolute than it has seemed. Deacon enjoys toying with Vida and is perhaps content to do so for a few days before forcing himself on her. However, a cat that appears to take deep and abiding pleasure in tormenting a mouse can suddenly bare its fangs and surrender to the prey drive that is the essence of its nature. There is a risk that he will make a move on her before she can lead him to the resolution she has devised.
To mollify him, she says, “It was just the word you used—‘betrayed.’ I misunderstood.”
His stare is fierce, a wordless command to submit or face the consequences, but Vida senses that it would be unwise to look away too soon.
“You know what your problem is, darlin’?”
“I guess you’ll tell me.”
“That damn library of yours. You’re so bookified, you overthink everythin’. A man just plainly speaks his heart, and youanalyzehis words, analyze a whole different meanin’ into what he says. How many books you read in your twenty-eight years?”
“Hundreds, I guess.”
“Shit, girl, that isn’t livin’. That’s justreadin’ about livin’. Don’t go analyzin’ me. Just listen to what I really say.”
“All right.”
“Is that askin’ too much?”
“No.”
“Books make snobs out of people, make them proud when they hadn’t ought to be, when they don’t really have nothin’ to be proud about. You understand me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen people so bookified and arrogant, the only thing that might save them from themselves is if someone poked their eyes out and blinded them from ever readin’ again.”
He drinks a little wine, and she looks away from him.
After a mutual silence, she says, “The lovely woman who lost a thumb and finger—did she come before or after Tanya?”
“After,” he says without hesitation. “Committin’ to the wrong woman was the biggest mistake I ever made. I won’t make it twice.”
Vida is surprised to find herself taking a sip of the second serving of wine, which she had intended not to drink. She puts the glass down.
When she looks at Deacon, he sees something in her eyes that elicits a smile from him. “Scares you a little, how much I’ve told you about things I’ve done.”
“Doesn’t scare me,” she lies. “But it does surprise me.”
“You think I told you enough to hang myself if you go tell the sheriff and get his suspicions up, and so now I’m out on a limb as far as you are with what you did to Belden Bead.”
“Not at all. You wouldn’t have told me if it put you out on a limb.”
“Exactly right. You’re as smart as you are good to look at. A girl with a brain as hot as yours, how much hotter must you be down between your legs, where it really counts? If you want, you go into Kettleton tomorrow and have a chat with the sheriff. It won’t bother me at all, darlin’.”
She waits.
He takes pleasure in making her wait. He swirls the wine in his glass and savors its bouquet. He sluices it back and forth through his teeth as if it’s mouthwash, swallows, and sighs.
“When I came here the day before yesterday, there was this thing I neglected to tell you. That was my last day as a deputy. Sheriff Montrose retired with a heart condition. The city council appointed me interim sheriff until the election next year. I’ll win another four years because the powers that be will see to it that I run unopposed. You understand what this means?”
Her mind quickens through the ramifications of what he has just revealed. “You can contrive to have someone discover Belden Bead’s grave on my property. Kettleton isn’t really Kettleton anymore. It’s a small-town version of Gotham City, but there’s no Batman to clean it up. Nothing you’ve told me can be proven, and no one will believe you’d have bared your soul to me. Somehow you’ll seize my property. I won’t have money for a good attorney. The public defender assigned to me will work hard to ensure that I’m convicted—if I don’t first commit suicide in jail.”