Home Everlasting (Holliday Book 3) Page 8

  He stared at the third body, her blonde hair and buxom chest bringing back good, but painfully short memories. He poured beer into her hair and covered the bodies with the tarps again. Screamin' Sally was dead, and he had killed her. He had to face the facts.

  But then again, he thought, he had done a lot of bad things to get into the position of power he now occupied. He looked over the shoulders of the boys, realizing that since he had asked for the bodies to be buried 10 feet, it would take them much longer than he had anticipated. His usual crew was off on business, and these were just kids. One day they would join the rank of the older members. But not yet.

  He had to be sure that these bodies wouldn't be seen. He looked around the pasture and into the wilderness. This was his graveyard. He could point towards trees, grassy spots, or spots in the trail, and recount who was buried in each one. Not all of the bodies were his responsibility. He had taken over the operation and the graveyard. But he would be blamed for all of them. That was his cross to bear. That’s what it meant to be in power.

  He looked across the pasture towards the Holliday property. He hated that the graveyard was so close to Holliday Ranch, but it couldn't be helped. This was where all the skeletons were kept. Changing it now could be disastrous. "Work faster," he growled at the boys, throwing his empty bottle back towards his chairs.

  "You wanna come down here and help us?" asked a beefy kid. His peach fuzz was visible in the starlight, slightly raised against his pale skin.

  Keith didn't wait, his annoyance flaring. He jumped into the hole with the kid and swung his fist across the boy’s face and watched him fall to the ground. The kid grabbed his cheek and gasped as he lay squirming in the dirt. "Ya done?" whispered Keith.

  "Yessir," he said.

  "Doesn't look like it," replied Keith, picking up the kid's shovel and handing it back to him. "Get back to it."

  "Yessir." The kid got up and started digging again as Keith easily grabbed onto the walls of the hole and swung himself over.

  The lights of a truck swept through the trees. He lazily walked back over to his chair and sat down, popping another beer. He wasn't worried about the cops or anyone coming over. He had already taken care of all those eventualities. He knew who was coming. He had called his most loyal man. And he had arrived.

  The door to the truck swung open and an elegant shoe, wingtips shining in the starlight, swung down into the grass. He adjusted his suit, jacket, and tucked in his shirt as he walked up behind Keith. "You called?"

  "Can you believe these boys. So fuckin' slow. Where's my regulars?" asked Keith, not looking at his visitor.

  "They should be done with their assignment shortly. Do you want me to call them over here?" he asked, looking at his watch. "They can be here in a few hours."

  "They'll be tired."

  "They're your men. They'll do what you need."

  Keith nodded. "You texted me. Said you heard from Dolmat."

  "He said he got a visit from Holt."

  "And? You got bad news for me, Gregg?"

  Gregg placed his hand on Keith's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Unfortunately, he's saying he’s gonna give us up."

  "He knows what's going to happen if he does that. How was your date?"

  "Fine. Marty's been adopted by Saul Holliday."

  Keith glanced up at him, surprised. "Seriously? The fag got adopted by Saul Holliday."

  Gregg didn't even cringe, knowing full well who his boss was. "Yeah. Bit surprising."

  "You fuck him?"

  "No sir."

  "Plan on it." Keith took out a flask and took a pull of whiskey. He handed it to Gregg.

  "Yes sir," he replied curtly, and then took a pull himself. He had already been planning on fucking Marty, and being ordered to made it slightly kinkier. Although he would have enjoyed his boss being less privy to his sex life.

  "Dolmat's gonna turn us in?" asked Keith. The young boys had finally fallen into a rhythm with each other. It was a pleasant sight to see the shovels falling, scraping, and moving in unison. Perhaps they'd make a good team. And perhaps that shiner he gave that kid would endear him to some nice girl. Nothing like a good pity fuck.

  "It's unclear. He kept repeating that it's all your fault. That he didn't really want to kill Ricky. That it was his family's tradition to protect the Hollidays, and you used it to your advantage to make him do a heinous thing."

  "A heinous thing, eh? Wonder what he thinks of the three heinous things I'm burying tonight, fuckin' idiot."

  "Well, it's gonna put Clark's conviction in jeopardy," said Gregg, taking a step back. He could tell that Keith was getting agitated. And when Keith got agitated, there was usually violence.

  "I see," Keith whispered. He had planned it all so carefully. He would get the new guy out of the way. The town would be his again. All the loyalties would be clear. And he would get Lilith back at the same time. He would get Lilith back and out of the hands of that fucker. Some of it had just fallen into place. The whole plan had been so beautiful.

  So beautiful that he may have gotten his hopes up that everything would work out, perfectly. That he would finally win. He rubbed his eyes and then stared up at the stars. "Fix it," he whispered, finally. "Fix it."

  "Yessir," replied Gregg, backing away. "I'll fix it."

  "Fix it Gregg."

  ~~~

  By the time the sun had set, Lilith had a newfound respect for her father's labor and work. By the time the clock struck midnight, and her stomach growled in hunger, she began cursing her father's work ethic. She looked across her father's desk. Some of the piles of papers, binders, and other office ephemera were taller than she was, but that might have been because she had to adjust her father's chair to better suit her.

  She had come home and immersed herself in her father's work, including talking to the boys and getting a rundown on all the things that had to get done. Marty had been an indispensable resource, as all the boys trusted and respected him, but also because he really knew every nook and cranny of the ranch.

  And, he was family. She leaned back in her chair, savoring that bizarre thought. Marty was literally family now. They had always been close, and she may have even viewed him as a brother, but now he literally was one. That was, of course, when her father woke up and signed the papers.

  She looked over the ranch, taking in the view from her father's office. Every view from the house was magnificent, but this one, while small had the importance of being the one her father looked out at, day after day, while planning for the future. There had to be something he specifically stared at that gave him hope.

  The herd was stolid and unmoving, and the last boys had left hours before, with Marty gleefully talking about his hot date. She had wished him luck and then dove right back into work. The finances weren't looking good, more feed had to be ordered, and her father had been in the middle of payroll.

  She had always been proud of herself for graduating med school, especially with the sheer amount of memorization required. But, keeping all of the ranch's numbers, figures, and necessities straight was giving her a headache. Thinking of her degree, of course, reminded her of Mulreedy's offer. Was she capable of doing both?

  Her phone rang and she picked it up without looking, as she continued to read a binder about the mushroom business. It was truly intriguing. They grew in manure, basically. "Hello," she said, absentmindedly.

  "It's Mulreedy. Your father is awake, get down here," Mulreedy said curtly, and then hung up.

  It took her a moment to realize and register what Mulreedy had said, but then her eyes widened and she jumped out of her chair and rushed out, dashing down the stairs and towards the front door. Her father was finally awake, and with him rested the future of the ranch and this family. He could sign Marty's papers, teach her about her birthright, and she could spend more time with him. Her father, she realized with relief, was still alive.

  But a rapid, desperate knock and shout at the door stopped her in her tracks. "Lilit
h! Lilith! Please! Lilith! Open up! I have to talk to you!"

  She thought she recognized that voice, but it didn't sound right. It was strained, hoarse. She approached the giant front door quietly, and slowly cracked it open.

  She stared at the sweating, crying, and altogether unkempt form of Jim Dolmat. He still wasn't wearing shoes. His feet and the rest of his clothing was covered in a sheen of oil. "Mister Dolmat," she whispered. "What happened?"

  "Lilith, I gotta talk to you."

  "It's kind of a bad time Mister Dolmat. My father's in the hospital, and I have to go see him," she said, trying to push past him.

  His arm smashed against the door jamb, blocking her way. "I'm sorry Lilith, but I'm gonna have to talk to you. Right now. It's about my son David."

  "Alright," she said, not inviting him inside. He could explain himself in the cold, sobering, night air. "Go ahead."

  "Look. I need you to hire him. I can't. I can't say anything more, but you gotta hire him. You get me? I'm closing shop. It's over. The mechanics business. It's a weird one. I just gotta get out of it. Gotta get outta here," he said, his eyes shifting and bouncing all over her.

  "Mister Dolmat, are you ok?" she asked, her medical training kicking. He clearly wasn't well, and if he was having a breakdown, she'd better call the hospital as soon as possible. He could be a danger to himself. And her.

  "I'm fine Lilith. Just listen to me. Can you give David a job please? I don't think he's gonna be welcome in this town if you don't vouch for him. Not after what I did."

  She took a step back from the doorway, ready to slam the door in case Dolmat got violent. "Mister Dolmat, what have you done? Or what will you do?"

  "First my son."

  She hesitated, unsure if she was getting into something far worse than just giving a family friend a job. But the Dolmats and the Hollidays went back a long time. It was the least she could do. "Alright, done. He can start whenever."

  Dolmat breathed a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders slump down. He sat down in the doorway and let himself cry. The sobbing wails saddened Lilith, but the sight of a grown man sitting on her doorstep, in such a mental state worried her. Not just because she had to go see her father, but because she didn't know if he was safe to leave alone. She didn’t want to come back to a dead body.

  "Mister Dolmat, what did you do?" she whispered. "Do you want me to call the Sheriff?"

  "They egged me on, saying it was about family, it was the right thing to do. Our families go back Lilith. Hollidays and Dolmats. Pioneer families. We go back Lilith. I did it for that, but then, but then, but then he wanted more help with other things. And he didn't even seem to care. And I realized that I'd been used. There was no honor there. And then it went further, the cover up, and using Clark," he muttered.

  "Wait," she said, realizing what Dolmat was talking about. "This is about Ricky. Who put you up to this?"

  She saw fear in Dolmat's eyes as he looked up at her, the tears still flowing down his sagging face, oil and grease from the days work leaving lines as his tears caught in his scruffy unkempt facial hair. He gulped and composed himself. "I killed Ricky. It was me alone. I killed Ricky," he said, his tone taking on a darker, deeper timbre. "Please save my kid. Don't let him live like all the others."

  She stared at him, trying to understand what was going on. This was all unexpected. This didn't make any sense. Dolmat was a good guy. She had grown up with him. He wouldn't kill anyone. He wouldn't frame Clark for it. And he just admitted there was someone else, someone he wouldn't reveal, that was behind it all.

  She took out her phone and quickly dialed Sheriff Holt's number and took a few steps back from Dolmat, who had once again started uncontrollably crying.

  "Holt," said Sheriff Holt groggily. "It's goddamn midnight, what the fuck do you want whoever this is."

  "It's Lilith. I have a problem."

  "Lilith. Look. It's nearly midnight. I didn't like you swinging your supposed weight at the station the other day and what for the love of all that is holy could you want now?"

  "Jim Dolmat is sitting on my steps, crying, and he just confessed to Ricky's murder," she whispered into the phone, turning away from Dolmat so he wouldn't hear.

  "What?" said Holt, more alert than before. She heard him get out of bed and the crinkle of pants and jangle of a belt.

  "Yeah. What do you want me to do?"

  "This is damn peculiar," said Holt. She heard two doors slam and the revving of an engine as Holt got into the car. "I'll be there in a few minutes. You got somewhere to be right now?"

  "Yeah, my dad just woke up. Kinda wanted to go see him in the hospital."

  Holt grunted. "Yeah, stay there for a moment and I'll come and get you and Dolmat. I dunno what the fuck is happening, but we're about to figure it out together."

  "Alright," she said, and hung up the phone. She looked over at Jim Dolmat, a member of one of the oldest families in the Beartooth Mountains, and realized that maybe he was telling the truth, and it wasn't as peculiar as Holt was trying to make it seem.

  She slowly edged over to him and sat down on the steps. "You wanna tell me why you did it?"

  He looked up at her, his face wet with tears. "You sure you gonna help my boy out?"

  She nodded. "Of course."

  "I heard what happened with Ricky, and it just made my blood boil. Lot of other people in town as well. You guys have done so much for the town and everybody else. And I couldn't let it go. Down at the bar, I mentioned somethings. And it got around, and then it happened."

  "That's it? Who is this other guy?"

  He stared up at her, his mouth open, almost forming the words. They heard sirens through the mountains, the light from Holt's car visible winding its way towards the ranch. It disappeared in a dip, and then reappeared on the long gravel road, the trailing dust cloud visible in the lights. He sped up as he approached and slammed to a halt in front of them.

  Holt had forgotten his hat and had just put on jeans and a tee shirt. His badge was clipped to his belt. He left his sidearm in the car. "Jim," he said, walking up. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

  "I killed Ricky," said Dolmat, trying to hold back tears.

  "How?" asked Holt, narrowing his eyes.

  "I stabbed him to death, carved the Holliday name on the body, and then left the knife inside his belly," replied Dolmat, his voice shaking with emotion as he repeated his sins.

  Holt stared down Dolmat, not knowing whether to believe him. He took out his handcuffs and pulled Dolmat to his feet and cuffed his hands behind his back.

  "Jim Dolmat, you have the right to remain silent," intoned Holt, reading him his rights.

  Lilith watched the scene unfold. It was surreal, that it was ending this way. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. It wasn't surreal, it was unreal. It didn't make sense. Jim Dolmat?

  She walked to her truck as Holt waved to her and drove off the ranch. The only bright side she could see from all this was that Clark was going to be released. Her father was alive and Clark would be released. It was good news, for sure.

  But as she followed Holt's cruiser out onto the main highway, and then passed him as he took a turn for the Sheriff's Office, she realized something that made her gut hurt.

  Nothing complicated was ever easy. Solutions didn't just appear. Dolmat may have been involved, she realized, but this wasn't the end.

  She looked around her truck, hoping she'd brought a gun. But there was nothing. Just her, as she drove to see her father.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "I said, I'm not staying here any longer!" yelled Saul. Lilith could hear his pleas from the lobby. She had, had a lot of time to think about the previous hour’s events as she drove over. There were no answers, but for the moment the ranch was safe, her father was alive, and she was going to see Clark soon.

  She waved to the nurses and doctors as she weaved through the busy night shift to find Mulreedy standing near her father's bed, trying to hold him down.

&n
bsp; "Over my dead body. You might be dying!" Mulreedy growled. "Nurse! Get me some straps! I swear to god I will tie you down like the crazy fuckin' man you are!"

  She glanced down the hallway and noticed Marty at a vending machine. He looked like he was in a rough mood, his hair was disheveled, and his shirt was untucked in random places. He didn't look up, and he didn't seem concentrated in making a choice. He was staring at his reflection as if it could tell him something. A six pack, with several empties, sat beside his feet.

  "I swear to God, Mulreedy, I will end you if you do not let me get back to my house!" yelled Saul, shoving Mulreedy aside and yanking the needles from his arm.

  "You had a stroke you old fool!" spluttered Mulreedy as he tried to get back to his feet.

  But it was too late. Saul pushed himself from the bed, his right leg pushing his left, until they both fell over the side of the bed. With one push he tried to stand, but he stumbled and fell on his face, onto the hard hospital floor.

  "Dad!" she yelled from the doorway, trying not to look at her father's butt poking through his hospital gown. Mulreedy scrambled to his feet and they both grabbed her father by his arms and midriff and pulled him back onto the bed.

  "You stupid arrogant idiot," muttered Mulreedy. "You're definitely getting straps now."

  "I wanna go home," whispered Saul, looking up at them.

  She stared into her father's face, seeing the small signs of facial paralysis. He breathed heavily from the exertion and she saw him move his left hand awkwardly. Most of the fingers didn't move, but they shook slightly.

  "It'll come back," said Mulreedy. "You just need to give it time."

  Saul looked away from both of them. "But how much time do I even have left?"

  "Come on Dad, don't talk like that," Lilith whispered.

  "What's going on in here?" asked Marty, leaning against the door frame. He held a beer in his hand and took a swig. "You want one Saul?"

  "Yes," said Saul, his eyes lighting up slightly.

  "Over my dead body," said Mulreedy. "Get the fuck outta here if you're gonna just drink and gawk. This ain't a goddamn sideshow."