Strangers Read Free Page A

coarse black hair on a mottled scalp. Dressed in a work shirt and Levi’s stretched tight across a broad chest and thick thighs. The rugged-ugly type.
    Cheryl said wearily, “For God’s sake, Matt.”
    â€œYou really think he’s gonna be able to do anything?”
    â€œHe’s going to try. That’s more than you or anybody else is doing for Cody.”
    I said to Cheryl, “Who’s this?”
    â€œMatt Hatcher. My brother-in-law.”
    â€œAnd about the only friend she’s got left in Mineral Springs,” Hatcher said.
    â€œWrong. Now she has another.”
    â€œYou’re an outsider, Pop.”
    â€œWe’re not going to get along,” I said, “if you keep making snotty remarks about my age. How old I am has no bearing on how well I do my job.”
    â€œSuppose I don’t care if we get along or not?”
    â€œThen you won’t be acting in Ms. Rosmond’s best interests.”
    â€œMs. Rosmond,” Hatcher said with an edge of contempt. He took a swig from the bottle of beer. “Her name’s Hatcher, not Rosmond. Glen Hatcher’s widow.”
    Cheryl said, “Matt, please.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with the Hatcher name? It was good enough for you for a lot of years, wasn’t it?”
    Her wince suggested that the years with Glen Hatcher had not been easy ones. Understandable, if he’d been anything like his brother.
    Hatcher came over in an aggressive, rolling gait to where we were. He said to me, “Just how do you figure you can prove Cody didn’t rape those women?”
    â€œI can’t answer that. I’ve only just gotten here and I don’t know all the details yet.”
    â€œDamn good chance he’s guilty. You know that, don’t you?”
    â€œI just told you, I don’t know anything yet.”
    â€œHe’s not guilty,” Cheryl said. “He’s not. ”
    â€œI don’t want him to be any more than you,” Hatcher said, “but that don’t mean he ain’t. He’s always been a wild kid—”
    â€œWild? What do you mean, wild?”
    â€œYou know what I mean. Driving like a lunatic, drinking, getting into fights.” He added with what struck me as deliberate malice, “None of that would’ve happened if Glen was still alive.”
    You could tell that hurt her. “I hate it when you say things like that, imply I didn’t raise my son properly.”
    â€œWell? Woman alone, when you don’t have to be.”
    â€œOh, please, don’t start that again—”
    Ringing telephone.
    The sudden sound turned her rigid for two or three seconds. Then, quickly, she pivoted away from me and started toward where the instrument sat on a table next to the living room doorway. But Hatcher caught her arm on the way past, brought her up short.
    â€œChrissake,” he said, “don’t answer it.”
    â€œI can’t just let it ring.”
    â€œAll right, then let me—”
    â€œNo.”
    Cheryl pulled away from him, hurried over, and got the handset up to her ear on the third ring. She listened for maybe five seconds; then her shoulders slumped and she broke the connection, cradled the receiver. Except for “hello,” she hadn’t said a word.
    Hatcher said disgustedly, “Another one. Why don’t you stop putting yourself through that shit and leave the phone off the hook?”
    â€œI told you before. It might be Cody, or Sam Parfrey.”
    â€œJoe Felix won’t let the kid call. And Parfrey’s got nothing to tell you he hasn’t already.”
    She came slowly back to where I was, making a little loop around Hatcher. On the way she said without looking at him, “Leave me be, Matt,” the weariness heavy in her voice. “Please, just go away and leave me be.”
    â€œSo you can be alone with him.”
    I’d had my fill, too. “Lay off, Hatcher.