All the Colors of the Dark — Chapter 114

114

Nix sat, his line in the water, face shaded by his fishing hat. He pulled catfish and walleye, his creel so full he tossed a couple back as he nursed a

cold beer.

“You wanted to see me,” Saint said.

“You came all this way. You should be on your honeymoon.”

“I got the message. I came here.”

The sun fell low over the Glenn Hook Reservoir, straddling Calder County and Winton. Saint watched fingerlings break the surface as she tossed bait between slips of reed and saw black bass hunt down shad.

“I told Norma it could wait till you were back,” Nix said.

“I never…we didn’t go anywhere. We’re saving to fix up the house. And Jimmy has exams coming up.”

He’d made the drive out in the RV, parked back at the campground by the Crook City Causeway.

“So what do you need?” Saint said as he made to pass her a beer, but she shook her head.

He set it back in the cooler. “Let’s talk awhile.”

The past years Saint worked seven-day weeks; a vague sense time was passing only by the changing seasons and nothing more. She watched the harsh bite of winter but did not feel the cold. Trampled the foil green woodland in spring and threw herself into the mundanities, the patrols and forced entries, the parking tickets and misdemeanors.

She stared down at the simple gold band on her finger and thought of the wedding night. How Jimmy ejaculated before she could take his pants off. And how he got mad and walked out of their cheap motel room and

smoked a cigarette in his car. When he came back in he slept, and she watched the ceiling and imagined her life and the contours of missteps. At first light he climbed on top of her and grunted into her ear. It was over almost as quick. She had thought it might hurt. She had thought she would

at least feel something.

“You like being married?” Nix said.

She spun the ring, a size too big on her slender finger. “It’s good,

Chief.”

“And I’ll bet Norma is happy.”

Saint smiled. “She wanted me to marry Jimmy. She believes he’s a good

man.”

“You think that’s the only reason why?”

Saint turned to him.

Nix smoothed his moustache. “You marrying Jimmy, maybe means she

won’t have to be so fearful of Joseph.”

“How do you mean?”

“Every time you did something reckless, every time you deviated from your path, it was because of him.” Nix smiled.

“She’s protecting me.”

“You’re all she’s got. And you’re worth protecting, Saint.”

She blushed a little.

“You love this guy?” he said, and he did not meet her eye because it was not a comfortable question for him to ask.

“Love is a visitor.”

He laughed, but it was not unkind. “Well, then I hope it comes to stay

soon.”

“You were never married.”

He sipped his beer. “People talk about one life…one chance. But I reckon a single life is made up of a dozen or more roles and responsibilities.

I can count the versions of myself like friend and foe. Mistakes are the detours that remind you of the true way, Saint. To love and be loved is more than can ever be expected, more than enough for a thousand ordinary lifetimes.”

“I don’t know if that’s true.”

“I hope one day you will.”

She batted blackflies. “You didn’t ever want kids?”

“That responsibility. I’m in awe of people that take it on. Plan to bring

another person into this world.”

“It’s not always planned.”

“A million and a half terminations last year. Each clinic you got some goddamn ghoul with an opinion and a placard.”

She watched the water. “Heading in the right direction.”

“Too little, too late for some.”

“This might be the worst honeymoon anyone ever took.”

He laughed deeply. “I did have a dog growing up. Loved that mutt like it was human. Maybe more. That sound strange?”

She nodded.

He laughed.

“There’s women in town that want to date you,” she said.

“The idea of me, maybe. The real me, well he lost his heart thirty years

ago.”

She smiled. “What happened?”

“What always happens. One of you leaves the other one alone.” He raised his beer toward the water, and she could not imagine a woman that

would ever leave him.

“Where will you head next?”

He reeled and cast and sat and drank. “Long drive to Severy City.

Maybe I’ll fish from a kayak. Got my eye on those sunfish.”

“My grandfather was a bass fisherman.”

Nix whistled and followed it with a wide smile. “Alabama River. All spring in the north, maybe the finest largemouth I ever pulled out.”

Saint did not say that Nix seemed sadder since. She could not say why, just that something indelible had been written for him the day Joseph disappeared, or maybe the day Marty Tooms lost the remainder of his life.

Like he could not begin to understand the things he had not questioned before. How a murderer lived in his town.

“Sometimes I think we’ve come a long way,” she said.

“And other times we haven’t taken a single step.”

“I think of Callie Montrose,” she said. “I heard her father took early retirement. Also heard he caused a little trouble the other night.”

Nix pressed the bottle to his forehead. “Maybe we all should’ve stopped after. Just shut down and gone home. Richie Montrose will see out his days at the bottom of a whisky bottle. Can’t say I blame him.”

As the air cooled he leaned back and watched the light ease.

“The FBI want you,” he said. “I got a call from a man named Himes.

Executive something or other. They want you to fly to Kansas City and

meet with them.”

“Okay.”

He lit a cigar.

They stayed till the sky made mauve of the water.

At her car she hugged him tightly. She did not know a better man than Chief Nix.

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