The Outliers
Page 24
“Try me,” I said.
Critter grabbed another box from the truck. I was bending over to grab one myself when he turned to me, dropped the box and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He pressed a few numbers and held up the screen so I could see his contacts pulled up to someone listed only as 911-B. “What is that? Or who is that?”
“This,” he said, tucking the phone back into his jeans, “is a number I could call and with one flick of my thumb I could have Richard Dixon wiped off the face of the fucking planet now that I know where he is.”
“Then, why haven’t you?” I asked curiously.
“Because she asked me not to,” Critter said, rubbing his hand on his face.
“What?”
Critter grabbed another box. “Caroline. Last night she had a moment of clarity. A longer one than usual. She told me it wouldn’t make me no better than him if I had his filthy blood on my hands. She made me promise I wouldn’t and now I gotta figure out how to put an end to that son of a bitch’s reign of terror some other way.”
“We,” I corrected him. “WE have to figure out how to end it.”
Critter grunted. “How’s Sawyer holding up after seeing him at the hospital?”
“She keeps saying she’s okay but I know she isn’t. I wouldn’t be if I was in the same room as the very man who kidnapped her mother, threatened both of their lives, and tormented for years?” Even saying the words made me downright murderous myself, but I saw how Critter was teetering on the edge and didn’t want to be the one to tip him over and have him break his promise to his wife.
“Yeah, I’m aware of the man’s resume,” Critter snapped. “But thanks for the update though. It’s always nice to have a refresher course in all things awful about the man I’ve imagined killing for a couple decades plus.”
“He ain’t exactly on the list of people Sawyer and I will be inviting to our wedding,” I said without thinking.
Critter turned to me and shot me a glare like I was the enemy. I turned around to make sure Richard wasn’t standing behind me. “What?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You serious about that? You thinking of marrying my daughter?”
I thought about my next words carefully, but the answer was a simple one and it wasn’t a day to be lying to Critter. “Yeah. Yes.” I grimaced. “Sir?”
“Son…”
“It’s son now?”
“Yeah, it is.” Critter pointed at me, wagging his finger as he spoke. “Son, if you go and hurt my girl in any way I’m telling you right this fuckin’ second that I’ll skin you alive, feed your carcass to my hunting dogs, and mount what’s left of you above my front door as a warning to others.” He ruffled my hair like he used to do when I was a kid and I didn’t like it now as much as I hated it back then. I smoothed it back down and Critter smiled, going about wiping down the bar and glasses like he didn’t just threaten my life in a very real and gruesome way.
“Wow, Critter. It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten a good dad-style talking to. I have to say though, I never expected it from you.” I said, going back to the business of helping him and the delivery man carry in the boxes.
“Well, don’t be expecting it again, ‘cause that was a courtesy warning. You’ll only be getting the one.”
“Noted.”
“What’s this?” Critter asked when the driver handed him a bottle of whiskey that hadn’t been in any of the boxes. He turned the clear bottle around in his hands.
The driver shrugged. “I was told to give it to you by the boss. It’s a gift. A sample for you to try. Something new he’ll be trying to sell you I suppose. Not sure. I just deliver the booze impregnate my wife and keep paying for these damned kid’s tuition. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Thanks, Pete. Tell Mike this better not be no Yankee shit. The last bottle he sent me I used as target practice in my field.”
Pete turned the bottle over in Critter’s hand. Taped to the back was a note that said. NOT YANKEE SHIT.
Critter chuckled.
“Southern all the way, Critter.” Pete said. He jogged off and climbed into his truck. I followed Critter into the empty bar.
He placed the cigar in his mouth and opened the bottle of whiskey, setting down two glasses. He filled them both over half way. He slid one toward me. “It’s a whiskey kind of morning.”
“I’ve never known you to be a whiskey for breakfast kind of man.”
“You also never knew I was married and had a daughter.”
“Good point.”
Critter clinked his glass to mine without waiting for me to pick mine up. He emptied it in two large swallows, slamming it down on the bar so hard I was surprised it didn’t break.
I spun around the glass I’d yet to take a sip from while Critter was already pouring another. “What about the name that Bridget girl gave Sawyer?”
“Sandy Bennett.” I said. “Josh is on it. Running the name through as many agencies as she has access to.
Critter drained his second glass. He sighed. “You know, from the second I found out Caroline and Sawyer were alive I had to put my need to hurt that motherfucker second to my need to want to crack his skull open. You know why? Because family comes first. My girls come first. But unfortunately, Caroline was right. You were…well, sort of right. I ain’t going to prison when I just got my family back. I ain’t living without them again.” His expression softened. “I can’t.”
I looked up to him. “I get it,” I said, running my hand through my hair and blowing out a breath of frustration. I’d had the same thought myself a thousand times. My chest panged. I remember the hurt I carried around after Jackie died. Enough to send me into years of solitude. Critter had known what that felt like and he’d reached out to me but even he couldn’t break through to me.
“The way I see it is that you and I are in the same boat. We’ve both had some horrible loses,” Critter said, echoing my thoughts. “I think it’s about damned time we’re due for a win. Or a break. Or something.”
I shook my head and traced my finger around the top of my glass. “It’s insane how one man could cause all this grief. All this heartache. You’d think there was an army of him out there. Or that he was the devil himself.”
Critter grabbed another box from the truck. I was bending over to grab one myself when he turned to me, dropped the box and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He pressed a few numbers and held up the screen so I could see his contacts pulled up to someone listed only as 911-B. “What is that? Or who is that?”
“This,” he said, tucking the phone back into his jeans, “is a number I could call and with one flick of my thumb I could have Richard Dixon wiped off the face of the fucking planet now that I know where he is.”
“Then, why haven’t you?” I asked curiously.
“Because she asked me not to,” Critter said, rubbing his hand on his face.
“What?”
Critter grabbed another box. “Caroline. Last night she had a moment of clarity. A longer one than usual. She told me it wouldn’t make me no better than him if I had his filthy blood on my hands. She made me promise I wouldn’t and now I gotta figure out how to put an end to that son of a bitch’s reign of terror some other way.”
“We,” I corrected him. “WE have to figure out how to end it.”
Critter grunted. “How’s Sawyer holding up after seeing him at the hospital?”
“She keeps saying she’s okay but I know she isn’t. I wouldn’t be if I was in the same room as the very man who kidnapped her mother, threatened both of their lives, and tormented for years?” Even saying the words made me downright murderous myself, but I saw how Critter was teetering on the edge and didn’t want to be the one to tip him over and have him break his promise to his wife.
“Yeah, I’m aware of the man’s resume,” Critter snapped. “But thanks for the update though. It’s always nice to have a refresher course in all things awful about the man I’ve imagined killing for a couple decades plus.”
“He ain’t exactly on the list of people Sawyer and I will be inviting to our wedding,” I said without thinking.
Critter turned to me and shot me a glare like I was the enemy. I turned around to make sure Richard wasn’t standing behind me. “What?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You serious about that? You thinking of marrying my daughter?”
I thought about my next words carefully, but the answer was a simple one and it wasn’t a day to be lying to Critter. “Yeah. Yes.” I grimaced. “Sir?”
“Son…”
“It’s son now?”
“Yeah, it is.” Critter pointed at me, wagging his finger as he spoke. “Son, if you go and hurt my girl in any way I’m telling you right this fuckin’ second that I’ll skin you alive, feed your carcass to my hunting dogs, and mount what’s left of you above my front door as a warning to others.” He ruffled my hair like he used to do when I was a kid and I didn’t like it now as much as I hated it back then. I smoothed it back down and Critter smiled, going about wiping down the bar and glasses like he didn’t just threaten my life in a very real and gruesome way.
“Wow, Critter. It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten a good dad-style talking to. I have to say though, I never expected it from you.” I said, going back to the business of helping him and the delivery man carry in the boxes.
“Well, don’t be expecting it again, ‘cause that was a courtesy warning. You’ll only be getting the one.”
“Noted.”
“What’s this?” Critter asked when the driver handed him a bottle of whiskey that hadn’t been in any of the boxes. He turned the clear bottle around in his hands.
The driver shrugged. “I was told to give it to you by the boss. It’s a gift. A sample for you to try. Something new he’ll be trying to sell you I suppose. Not sure. I just deliver the booze impregnate my wife and keep paying for these damned kid’s tuition. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Thanks, Pete. Tell Mike this better not be no Yankee shit. The last bottle he sent me I used as target practice in my field.”
Pete turned the bottle over in Critter’s hand. Taped to the back was a note that said. NOT YANKEE SHIT.
Critter chuckled.
“Southern all the way, Critter.” Pete said. He jogged off and climbed into his truck. I followed Critter into the empty bar.
He placed the cigar in his mouth and opened the bottle of whiskey, setting down two glasses. He filled them both over half way. He slid one toward me. “It’s a whiskey kind of morning.”
“I’ve never known you to be a whiskey for breakfast kind of man.”
“You also never knew I was married and had a daughter.”
“Good point.”
Critter clinked his glass to mine without waiting for me to pick mine up. He emptied it in two large swallows, slamming it down on the bar so hard I was surprised it didn’t break.
I spun around the glass I’d yet to take a sip from while Critter was already pouring another. “What about the name that Bridget girl gave Sawyer?”
“Sandy Bennett.” I said. “Josh is on it. Running the name through as many agencies as she has access to.
Critter drained his second glass. He sighed. “You know, from the second I found out Caroline and Sawyer were alive I had to put my need to hurt that motherfucker second to my need to want to crack his skull open. You know why? Because family comes first. My girls come first. But unfortunately, Caroline was right. You were…well, sort of right. I ain’t going to prison when I just got my family back. I ain’t living without them again.” His expression softened. “I can’t.”
I looked up to him. “I get it,” I said, running my hand through my hair and blowing out a breath of frustration. I’d had the same thought myself a thousand times. My chest panged. I remember the hurt I carried around after Jackie died. Enough to send me into years of solitude. Critter had known what that felt like and he’d reached out to me but even he couldn’t break through to me.
“The way I see it is that you and I are in the same boat. We’ve both had some horrible loses,” Critter said, echoing my thoughts. “I think it’s about damned time we’re due for a win. Or a break. Or something.”
I shook my head and traced my finger around the top of my glass. “It’s insane how one man could cause all this grief. All this heartache. You’d think there was an army of him out there. Or that he was the devil himself.”
