The Invisible Hand - A crime novel

Chapter 111

        

Red lays it out. Barely breathes between sentences. The revolver in my hand raises and lowers with my temper. Gets quite the workout.

Red says, "I'd been taking federal grant money for overtime for a while. The county's been getting them since 9-11. Supposed to pay for extra patrols around sensitive areas. ICBM sites on the prairie. Power plants. Railroads. Standard stuff.

"The money was few and far between, though. Until the oil prospectors showed up. Lots of them. Suddenly people started caring about North Dakota again.

"The hippie freaks were next. Trying to get a head start on the fracking. They weren't flower children. More like the hardcore kind. Eco-terrorists. They weren't fucking around.

"Dumb bastards. I shipped most of them back to the West Coast. But then I run into this one guy. He was something else."

Red coughs. I toss him a bottle of water. Use my free hand to do it. Glance out the window. The guards seem unaware of Red's visit. They might in a minute depending.

Red takes a drink. Continues.

"This guy, he was the real deal. Some sort of veteran, so he knew what he was doing. Turns out he's more than I can handle. So I call up DHS, Department of Homeland Security. They refer me to a private contractor. Someone they say can 'take care of problems like him.'

"I get phone calls from someone called Jane. Jane gives me instructions. What to do. Where to go. Who to break. There was a ton of collateral damage. People went missing. Turned up dead in ditches. Couldn't go anywhere without being tracked. Just really bizarre stuff.

"Folks around town, they started noticing. A few innocent folks got hurt. I didn't like that. Beat on the hippies, the eco-terrorists, all you want. But leave my Betrug neighbors out of it.

"So I walked away from it. Told Jane I was done. And after all that trouble, Jane never caught the guy. He got the hell beat out of him. But he lived another day."

It sounds a lot like Les. I keep quiet. Let Red talk.

Red says, "Here's where the shit hits the proverbial fan. DHS and Jane, they weren't going to let me off easy. Said they'd pin all that mayhem on me. Make me out to be the eco-terrorist as a fall guy to cover their own asses.

"We struck up a deal instead. An oil company needed land from a particular Betrug farm family. Not to drill on, though. To make a road. The company wanted the entire parcel, too. Seems the owners weren't interested in selling. But the road was a keystone for a larger project. The company needed that land. Without it, this project was dead.

"So if I helped convince the land owners to sell, Jane and DHS wouldn't stick me in prison for the mess that eco-terrorist guy made. Care to take a guess which family owned that farm?"

I wish Red hadn't asked. I don't kill him before he can tell me the answer. But it's really fucking hard.

"My family's farm," I say.

I crack my neck. Check the window. The guards moved out of sight.

Red's story makes some sense now. My folks always fought about a contract. Must've been the one with the oil company for that road.

Red says, "Your father wanted no part of that contract. Your mother did, though. Neither would budge. That wasn't the answer Jane wanted to hear.

"Now listen, Wil. This is important. I didn't mean for things to go the way they did. But everything fell into place. Your mother and I, we'd been...you know. Things weren't good with your folks in the first place."

I should just shoot the motherfucker. But I wait. I'll do it at the end. I want to hear him say it.

Red says, "I'm not proud of the way I became involved with your mother, Mary. But we fell in love. Between the DHS and Jane thing, the affair and the big money that contract could bring in, everything lined up. The only thing in the way of the good life for us was your father. Your mother and I, we came up with a plan. I rented a grain bin. Covered my tracks a little bit by saying it was for Joe. Then I..."

My ears don't even register what Red says. Tune it out. My brain already knows by now. Red rigged the grain bin. Set it up so that frozen grain chunk would crush my father as soon as he stepped inside.

I don't hear anything. I just see those eyes. My father's eyes. Right before he died. The surprise. Like they're saying, "Seriously? This is how I die?"

Then I see the same look in Joe. In Elma. And everyone else I've killed since the grain bin.

The only person I've pointed a gun at and haven't seen the look in is sitting in front of me. That's about to change.

My ears go back to working again.

"...I put in my report it was a freak accident. After that, the plan was to marry your mother. Then sign the contract. Take the money. Run away together. I used the cover of comforting a widow so people didn't suspect anything when I went over there," Red says.

I cut him off.

"Did my mother sign the contract yet?" I say.

That's the only reaction he'll get from me.

Red says, "No, she didn't sign. Your mother had a harder time with all this than we thought going into it. You should've visited with her more. It would've helped."

After what Red just told me, I'd be surprised if I ever speak to my mother again.

I chew on my chapped lips for a few long seconds. Taste the sliver of blood backwashing onto my tongue.

"What about Joe hiring me to kill Elma?" I say. "That part of the plan, too?"

Red shakes his head.

"I kept a tail on you for good measure. Was in the Betrug bar that day you talked to Joe," he says. "But I swear I had nothing to do with that. It just sort of happened. Joe wasn't exactly on the straight and narrow himself. Not the worst thing that you popped him, honestly. And Elma, well, she would've exited this planet in a bad way no matter what."

I think back to that day. One shotgun. Two point-blank shots. My derailed train of thought.

"All of this started with the grain bin accident you set up," I say. "My mind's been a mess ever since. Maybe I wouldn't've killed Joe and Elma. Wouldn't've ran off to the Bakken. Wouldn't be standing here right now."

Red opens his mouth to say something. Stops when I cock the revolver. And there it is, that look, one more time.

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