The Goodbye Man

“Fuck them,” Dodd muttered.

Welles’s voice was now dropping in decibels even further, as if spies, or reporters, lurked. “I mean, you’re a sharp one. Calling us in the first place and reporting them boys here, and then sending us off.” He snapped his finger. “You made it all seem on the up-and-up.”

Dodd: “Was smart.”

Welles frowned. “Course, I woulda liked to do the honors myself. But we all got the result we wanted, didn’t we?” A nod toward the cliff’s edge.

Shaw now realized his meaning. The sheriff and his deputies believed that Shaw had planned this out — killing the boy intentionally and making it look like a suicide: wreaking private vengeance upon the preacher shooter.

As disgusted as it made him feel, Shaw gave a smug smile. “Oh, I could hardly say that now, could I?”

“Lips sealed.”

Dodd the sniper said, “Sir, I must say, I do regret not being able to end that sinner’s life. But, if I was the one to handle the task, he never would’ve felt an instant of pain.”

A bullet travels at close to three thousand feet per second.

“But, thanks to you, that sad excuse for a human being had a most unpleasant time between you shoving and him hitting.”

Shaw gave an amused frown. “Oh, you’re thinking I shoved him. I’d never do that. He jumped.”

Welles said, “And that’s what our report’ll show. You’ll still get that reward of yours?”

“I will.”

“God bless and well earned. A shame they both couldn’ta jumped. Like a pact, you know? You see that some.”

Shaw said, “Keep in mind, it was Adam did the shooting. Not Erick.”

“I’ll do that.” Welles shook his head, smiling. “Sharp one you, I was saying. You let that boy run off first ’fore you took care of Adam. Right? No witnesses. Naw, that boy’s hide is safe. But I assure you he will have a most uncomfortable time in our hospitality suite. I promise you that. I mistook you, sir. At first. Dressed up like you were. We get people from not around here who don’t see eye to eye with us. Look down on us some.”

“A shame, that,” Shaw said, fully in his role.

“Thinking you were one of those city sorts, even with that piece of yours.” He nodded toward Shaw’s waistband, where his Glock resided. “But you’re one of us.”

How we hear what we want to hear and see what we want to see.

“Where do you pray?” the sheriff asked.

“First Baptist.” Shaw said, “The wife and I’ve been going there for years.”

He picked that denomination because even if Welles was inclined to check, there’d be thousands of them throughout the country.

And all good churchgoing men need the wife.

Welles nodded to Dodd, then lifted a hand when the deputy didn’t seem to understand. “Oh, right.” He dug into his pocket and handed Shaw a napkin. Inside was the bloody zip tie that had been cut off Adam’s wrists.

Welles said, “Thought it might go better that wasn’t found. A zip-tied man could jump off a cliff but...” His sun-brown face creased more than it already was. “Just better not to raise any questions. The inquest’ll be handled here. Which is good. The coroner’s one of us. Poker buddy too. It’ll go good. Don’t you worry about nothing.”

“Appreciate that.”

Ironic that the sheriff’s and medical examiner’s “cover-up” report would present what actually happened.

He jumped, did he...?

“Okay, we’ll get on finding that other boy. He’ll probably surrender. There are mighty bugs this time of year. And, course, snakes. Now, that is a most unpleasant way to go. Just ask J. P. Gibbons, my predecessor. Spent a bad last month. ’Cept, I guess you can’t ask him anything now.”

“Was he a man of God?” Shaw asked.

“Not enough, it seems. You take care now, Mr. Shaw.”