When they hit the living room, Feb was on the couch, sitting on his blanket, her heels in the seat, her cat curled in her arms, she was staring, eyes vacant, at the wall.
Colt wanted to move to Feb but he turned to Jack.
“Get some of Doc’s pills in her. Get her ass to bed. But you don’t sleep.”
Jack’s eyes were glued to his daughter but he nodded.
Colt looked at Feb again to see her eyes were on him.
Again he wanted to move to her but instead he walked out the door.
He heard it lock before he was three steps into the yard.
* * * * *
“Sully!” Chris called and Colt, standing on Feb’s front path with Sully, turned to see Chris in the doorway of Feb’s apartment.
Sully hadn’t f**ked around and the boys weren’t either, not with this case, not with it being about Feb. It looked like Sully had activated the entire task force that had been pulled together from all the departments in the county to work this case. There were enough of them to make enough noise that lights had come on. They were on show, folks watching from windows, some of them wrapped tight in robes with slippers on their feet coming out to watch openly.
Word was going to get out, people would speculate, their control over information was slipping. It would evaporate when, come dawn, they canvassed.
Both Sully and Colt walked to Chris.
Chris’s eyes were on Sully, his face grim then he looked at Colt. “All right, Colt. We found somethin’ and you gotta keep your shit together, man.”
That cold that hadn’t left his chest started biting.
“You don’t… fuck, Sully,” Chris said, “should he even be here?”
“What’d you find?” Colt asked.
Chris didn’t answer.
“He’ll be all right,” Sully assured Chris.
Chris shot Colt a look and stepped out of the doorframe. Sully and Colt entered. The boys were about their business, six of them. They looked up and then looked away.
On Feb’s bed which had been tossed, the mattress askew, there were three plastic bags, all three had white handkerchiefs in them, balled, looking crusty.
Cum rags.
Colt bit his lip and his hands curled into fists.
“Found them tucked between the headboard and box springs,” Chris said. “She wouldn’t find them even if she was changing the sheets.”
Christ. Feb slept in a bed with some sick f**k’s ejaculate tucked close.
“This is good, Colt,” Sully said hurriedly, “DNA. We got DNA.”
Colt stared at the bags.
He probably kneeled on the bed jacking off, thinking of her, looking at that framed photo of her on her bedside table, a photo of her in profile, her face filled with laughter, both Palmer and Tuesday caught in mid-wiggle in her arms. The kids were younger than now, maybe four and six. They looked like they were having a tickling fight.
“Colt, man, come back into the room. This is good.”
“He jacked off on her bed.”
“He’s finally f**ked up.”
Colt looked at Sully. “You think that makes me feel better? Or maybe you think that’ll make Feb feel better?”
“We’re closer, you lose it, do somethin’ stupid –”
That pissed him off and Colt felt his body get tight. “I’m not gonna do somethin’ stupid, Sully. Fuck,” Sully studied him and then nodded, Colt looked to Marty who was, in the small space, giving Colt a wide berth and turned to Chris. “You have a word with Marty, this doesn’t get out.”
“I know Marty f**ked up tonight, man, but Lore’ll get over it and the town will understand,” Chris said.
“You have a word with Marty,” Colt repeated. “I could report him and I should, what he did tonight. This leaks I’ll have his f**kin’ badge.”
“Colt –”
Colt leaned in. “Have a f**kin’ word.”
Chris put his hands up. “I’ll have a word.”
Colt turned and walked out the door. Sully followed him. They stopped in the grass at the front of Feb’s place.
“You’re not doin’ anything here but makin’ yourself angry. Get home to Feb,” Sully said.
Get home to Feb.
At that moment Colt didn’t think anything would make him feel better, except February’s hand at his neck but, this scenario, it wasn’t her job to comfort him.
Those words made him feel better. He didn’t spare a second to think about why they did, not after all this time, all that had happened. He just knew in his bones they did.
Colt nodded to his partner, walked to his truck with his eyes to the ground, got in and went home to Feb.
* * * * *
Colt entered his house and saw Feb asleep on the couch under his blanket, Wilson curled at her feet, Jack sitting at the stool she’d been at earlier that night, his revolver on the bar in front of him, his hair wilder than before but not wilder than his eyes.
Colt walked to him, got close and said low, “I want you and Jackie in here tomorrow.”
Jack kept his face expressionless and nodded.
“Make yourselves at home, you’re gonna be here until this is over. Tell Jackie she has free reign what she wants to do with the shit in that bedroom.”
“She’ll be ecstatic,” Jack said.
She would. Jackie was as tidy as Colt’d learned her daughter was tonight. Never happier than when she cleaning except when she was throwing shit out, usually Jack’s shit which usually drove Jack up the wall. He was a hoarder.
Jack grabbed his revolver, got up, walked to the side door and Colt followed.
Jack turned at the door. “They find anything?”
“They’re still lookin’.”
“They find anything?” Jack repeated, needing something to hang onto before he got in bed beside his wife and put his head on a pillow.
Colt looked at him then said, “Caught a break. We got DNA.”
“How’s that?”
Colt remained silent.
“He leave hairs or somethin’?”
“Just leave it at that, Jack.”
Jack stared a moment then surmised, “I don’t wanna know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Which means I know.”
Colt suspected he did.
Jack’s eyes shifted to his daughter, his head lifting like a turtle, the muscles in his neck standing out before he looked back to Colt. “You keep her safe, you hear?”
Colt nodded, Jack opened the door and Colt stood in the frame watching until Jack disappeared in the RV and then watching longer.