And, of course, in time, they came, looking for answers.
Elias was, luckily, at home with Reid when he answered a knock at the door one afternoon a few days after the events that had taken place up on the ridge. Standing there was Roy Catron, the county’s sheriff. Reid and Roy were of an age; they’d attended school together from first grade up until twelfth. Reid remembered how Roy had intimidated him when he was young; Reid had been undersized for his age until he became a teenager and had shot up like a weed until, at the end of it, he’d ended up a head taller than Roy. Only then had Reid been able to relax in his presence.
Reid was one of the few people who knew that Roy’s real name was Royall, a name that the man hated and had tried to make everyone forget; it irritated Catron to no end when people called him Royall, and Reid knew that, if necessary, he could use that to get under the man’s skin.
Looking at Catron, Reid marveled again at how middle age had treated each of them differently. Reid had been able to keep a trim, muscular figure despite the sedentary nature of his job. Catron, however, had let his various vices and bad habits catch up to him over the years, had let his high school athleticism go to seed. The man who stood before Reid today was pudgy and rounded everywhere, but no more so than in his face, which had an unfortunate tendency towards the porcine. He wheezed slightly with each breath.
The two men stared at each other for a long moment.
Then, from Catron, “Afternoon, Reid.”
“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” Reid said, pitching his voice loud enough so that—he hoped—Elias might hear it. “Can I help you?”
Catron mopped at his brow with a sweat-stained handkerchief. “Well, I, uh… I’m given to understand that Elias Hazlett is living with you?”
“Yes, he is. He’s renting a room from me while he prepares to enter college in the fall.”
“Is he around, by any chance?”
“He is, actually. Just upstairs.”
“Would you mind fetching him for me? If you don’t mind. I have some news for him.”
“By all means,” Reid replied. He stepped aside. “Would you like to come in and get out of the heat?”
Catron smiled, but the smile stopped just short of his eyes. “Well… don’t mind if I do.” He stepped into the living room; Reid thought he might take a seat, but the man just stood there. Reid had started an electric fan to get air moving in the house, and Catron positioned himself in front of it. Reid shut the door behind the sheriff and went over to the stairs, his heart hammering, hoping that he gave nothing away. He knew that men like Catron were trained to see such things in people, to see in their movements and actions that which they hoped to hide in their speech.
“Elias,” Reid called upstairs. He waited, glanced at Catron, called up again. “Elias, could you come down here, please?”
There was, then, the sound of a door opening, followed by the sound of footsteps coming down the stair. Elias favored Reid with a sidelong glance as he slid past the man and into the living room.
Catron turned to him. “You’re Elias Hazlett?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“I don’t know if you know who I am, son. I’m Roy Catron. I’m—”
“I know who you are, Sheriff,” Elias answered, his voice clear and calm.
“Yes, well… I… I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news for you, young man.”
“Yes?”
Catron glanced at Reid, turned his attention back to Elias. “It’s… well, it’s about your father, son.”
A frown knitted Elias’ brow. “My father?”
Careful, Elias, Reid thought. Careful.
“Yes,” Catron answered. “He was… well, someone… found him, yesterday.” Catron gestured vaguely, much as Elias had done when he’d returned, over his shoulder. “Up on Laurel Ridge.”
“Yes?” Elias asked. “What was he doing up there? Do I need to come get him?”
Catron’s eyes flared wide. “Doing? He was… well, he wasn’t doing anything,” he answered. “He was… well, Elias… he was… he was dead.”
Elias, to his credit, played his part well. Reid quietly moved so that he was not in Catron’s direct line of sight, lest he give anything away. “What?” Elias managed.
Catron nodded. “He, uh… well, he must have missed a turn, somewhere, going up over the ridge, we think. He was… well, they found him in the ravine. Under… underneath his truck.”
Elias slumped down into a dining room chair. “Dead?” he asked. “He’s… dead?”
Catron nodded again. “Son, I’m sorry, if that means anything. What he was doing up there on that day is beyond me. That trail is bad enough on a good day. But, in a thunderstorm…” He trailed off, glanced at Reid, turned back to Elias. “When was the last time you saw your father?”
Elias sighed. He appeared to be trying to hold back tears. Careful, Reid thought again. “I… I don’t know sheriff. It’s been… maybe… six months or so? Maybe more?”
“Is that how long you’ve been living with Mr. Shaughnessy?”
“I… yes, I think so.”
“How old are you, Elias?”
Elias frowned at the non sequitur. “I… well, nineteen. Nearly twenty. Why?”
“Why are you not living at home?” Catron asked.
Something in the tone of Catron’s voice started to worry Reid; he could tell that this was about to turn into an interrogation.
Elias answered. “Why would I be, Sheriff?”
“Well, it’s just that most young men your age—if they’re not married—are still living at home with their parents.”
At that, Elias smiled, one edge of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “Sheriff, if I were still living at home, we would not be having this conversation.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I very much doubt that I would be numbered among the living.”
Which took Catron by surprise. “Why do you say that?”
Reid hazarded a comment. “Sheriff, you might want to talk to Doctor Statham about that.” Catron turned to him, the question obvious on his face; Reid went on. “When Elias first came here, I had occasion to notice some signs of physical abuse on his body. The source of that abuse was obvious to me, but Elias confirmed it.”
Elias nodded. “I ran away from home, Sheriff. It’s as simple as that. If I’d stayed there any longer, I firmly believe that my father would have killed me.”
“You don’t know that, son,” Catron countered.
“You don’t know my father, then,” Elias said. “If you did, you would know that he was quite capable of doing just that.”
“Why would he, son?”
Elias said nothing for a long moment. Then, “My father is not a well man, sheriff. He never has been, honestly. He… well, if one believes that demons can reside in the minds of men, then my father is testament to that belief.”
“That’s… that’s an awfully… contentious thing to say, son.”
Elias stood up. “Should I take my shirt off for you, Sheriff? Should I show you what he did to me? The bruises are long gone, but the scars are still there. Those will never go away.” Elias’ hands went up to the collar of his shirt, started working the top button.
Catron held up a hand. “That… that won’t be necessary, son.” He sighed. Reid fervently wished that Catron would leave well enough alone, but he persisted. Reid supposed that if he were Catron, he would do the same thing. “Elias,” Catron started. “Do you have any idea why your father would be up on Laurel Ridge?”
“No. Although it is a shortcut between here and his house. Going that way saves about… well, five miles, I think.”
“Was he coming to see you, for any reason?”
“I don’t know. To the best of my knowledge, I don’t know if my father even knew—or cared—where I was.”
“Where is your father’s place, Elias?”
“Down south. Between Mingo and Mace.”
“Long way from Laurel Gap.”
“Is it? I suppose.”
“Do you know why he might have come here?”
“Sheriff, really—I don’t know. Perhaps he had some business with the county. I don’t know. I’m hardly going to worry about the whereabouts of a man I haven’t spoken to in six months. A man whose home I left.”
Catron smiled. “A man who—you say—seems to be a direct threat to your person. Seems to me you’d want to know exactly where he was and what he was doing.”
“And how would I do that, Sheriff… short of having him followed?”
To that, Catron had no answer. Reid understood what the man was trying to do: trying to shake Elias, to get him to admit something, to let something slip. He could almost see the wheels turning in Catron’s head. Reid knew Catron not to be a stupid man, despite his physical appearance, and hoped only that he was exercising his due diligence.
Catron tried again. “If your father were coming up from Mingo. why wouldn’t he just stay on the main road leading into town? Seems to me that going up and over the ridge would take more time, not less… given the condition it must have been in, because of the rain.”
Elias stared at Catron for a long moment. Then, “Again, you’re asking me to try to understand the behavior of a man who… well, doesn’t think like most people. He must have had some reason for being up there. I don’t know what it was.” Elias looked down, gathered himself, looked back up. “I’m sorry my father is gone. I truly am. I’m sorry that my family has been left like this. I plan on going down there as soon as possible to see to their welfare and to make arrangements. But I won’t pretend a sadness that I don’t feel. My father did terrible things to his children; not just to me, but to all of us. I cannot forgive him for any of that. He refused to seek the help he so clearly needed.”
With that, Elias turned on his heel and slipped back up the stairs and into his room. Catron and Reid heard the sound of the door closing. They stared at each other.
Catron, finally, sighed. “Well…” he started. Then, “Could I talk to you alone, Reid? Outside?”
—
The two men walked out to Catron’s car. At the driver’s side door, he turned to Reid. “Has Elias ever talked to you about his father? His family?”
“Yes. Of course he has. Many times.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Yes,” Reid answered. “Implicitly. Roy—” and here he permitted himself the familiarity “—you haven’t seen him. You haven’t seen what his father did to him. I have. That man did unspeakable things to his children. And…” Reid trailed off, wondering if he dared to tell Catron what Elias had told him.
“What, Reid? If you know anything, you have to tell me.”
Reid took in a deep breath, expelled it. “You thought that Elias’ opinion that his father would kill him if given the chance was… well, hyperbole. I can tell you that it is not.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he’s done it before.”
“He’s… killed?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Reid related the story of Tamara’s death at her father’s hands. When he was done, Catron stood there for a long time, working his jaw. Then, he nodded. “We… did find a gun on him. Well, near him, I guess. Things must have got pretty tossed around when the truck went over the edge.” He sighed, shook his head. “So, if I go out there, start asking around…”
Reid shrugged. “Somebody may talk. I don’t know. I’ve never been out there. But, with Ephraim gone, maybe somebody will finally come forward.”
“Could there be others? Like Tamara?”
“I don’t know, Roy. I really don’t.” He sighed. “Do you… well, certainly you know of the Hazletts.”
Reluctantly, Catron nodded. “I do, despite what I told the boy. All too well, as it turns out. It seems like I’m having to clean up their messes once or twice a month. Nothing good ever came out of that family.”
“I’d like to think at least one thing did.”
At that, Catron’s mouth quirked. “Well, only time will tell, I suppose.” He stared at Reid, then dropped his gaze. “I… wish you well, Reid. With him. I really do.”
Reid frowned. What did the man know? But he understood that now was not the time to ask such things. “Yes,” was all he could bring himself to say. “Thank you,” he added, letting Catron wonder what, exactly, Reid was thanking him for. He turned and started back towards the house.
Catron nodded, got into the car, started the engine. Before he left, he looked out of the window, called out to Reid’s departing figure. “Reid.”
He turned. “Yes?”
“Look, I… I won’t say that I’m sorry that Ephraim Hazlett is gone. He’s been a pain in the county’s ass for a long, long time.”
“Yes. I imagine that he has.”
Catron smiled brightly. “Well, how lucky for us that we’re finally rid of him, right?” With that, he reversed the car down the driveway and onto the road, cranked the car around, headed north, into town.
Reid stood there, staring at the car as it receded into the distance, until it rounded a curve and was lost to sight. Then he turned and went up to the house, stepped inside.