Lincoln Perry 02 - Sorrow's Anthem Read Free Page B

the music were
getting louder, the party picking up steam. I took a glance at the
Crown Victoria at the curb, saw the streetlight reflecting off the
tinted windshield, then looked back at Ed Gradduk’s mother.
“I know attorneys, and I know the police,” I said. “I’m an investigator
now. I don’t know what the situation was, but I do know
he’s only doing himself more harm by running. He needs to come
in and get legal help, get some people behind him. I can help him
with that. Right now, he’s just getting himself into more trouble.”
“And you’d know all about getting him into trouble.”
“Listen,” I began, but she wasn’t having it.
“Get away from my house,” she said, stepping back inside. I saw
for the first time that she was barefoot, the veins on her pale feet
standing out stark and thick and purple against the skin.
“I can help him if I can find him,” I said, and somehow I believed
it, though I had no reason to. “Where would he go, Mrs.
Gradduk?”
But she closed the door then, the old windowpane rattling as it
slammed. I heard the bolt roll shut and the security chain slip into
place. For one wild moment I was ready to lean back and slam my
foot against the door, kick it again and again until it was open and
I could grab the crazy old bitch and shake her and tell her that it
wasn’t my fault, it had never been my fault, Ed had screwed up and
I’d had no choice but to be the one who made him accountable. It’s
tough to raise that kind of anger and conviction over something
you’re not entirely sure you believe, though. I turned and walked
back down the steps.
    His closest friend was Scott Draper. It had been me once, but that
was long in the past, and Draper had lingered as a presence in Ed’s
life while I had not. At least four years had passed since I’d seen
Draper, but he wouldn’t be hard to find; the Hideaway on Clark
Avenue had been in his family for three generations, and unless the
building had crumbled around him, he’d be there now.
To get there, I had to walk west down the street, past the
Crown Vic. I was about ten feet from it when there was the soft
purr of a power window, and a drawling voice said, “How’s it going,
partner?”
“Fine,” I said, walking past, but then the door opened and one
of the car’s occupants stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of
me. I pulled up and looked at a cop whom I’d never seen before. If
he knew me, he didn’t show it.
“Nice night, huh?” he said, leaning against the car. I glanced in
the vehicle, trying to see the face of the man in the passenger seat,
but it was too dark.
“Fine night,” I said, trying to step around him and continue on
my way. He stepped with me, though, and I pulled up again.
Mind my asking what your business with Mrs. Gradduk was?”
He was tall enough that I had to look up at him, into a face that
was set in a hard scowl, dark brown eyes looking at me coldly. It
wasn’t the eyes that held my attention, though, but his nose. It was
swollen and purple, the bridge askew beneath the puffiness, the
discoloration spreading into his eye sockets. He’d had his nose
broken very recently. Probably by Ed Gradduk, if Amy’s information
about his fight with police had been accurate.
“Expressing my condolences,” I said. “Heard her son had a run
of bad luck today.”
“Or caused one,” the cop said. “What’s he got to do with you?”
“I’m his priest,” I said, and stepped away one more time. He
reached out and put his hand on my arm, but I twisted free and
kept going.
I should have stopped and talked to him. I should have explained
the situation for exactly what it was, tell him that I was an
old friend with no idea what I was doing here, chased by bad
memories. Tell him that I’d been a cop, too, maybe swap a few stories
about long nights on stakeout duty. Everything about the evening
had suddenly become surreal, though, twisted and strange.
And so, even while I told myself to stop and clear