Fifty-Two
BURT HAS GRILLED burgers and steaks and Taylor has produced a mountain of scalloped potatoes.
She’s allowed EJ to bring a bean-and-cheese casserole, one I’ve always believed got baked up in heaven.
Dessert is what Burt calls Taylor’s Crazy Chocolate Cake, called that, he explains, because of how crazy good it is.
After all that, we’re in their small living room, some people having brought their coffee with them. I’m standing next to Helene Mayes. EJ is on the sofa next to Tay.
Claire Larson speaks first, sounding like the smooth politician she is, thanking Burt and Tay for the good meal and even better company, finally nodding at EJ as she says, “And of course I would be remiss in not acknowledging EmmaJean Tucker, the real mayor of Cross Rivers.”
Everyone besides EJ applauds.
Then Mayor Larson says, “Okay, time to get down to business,” and that she’s turning the floor over to Burt Webb, just because it was a call Burt had made to her office a couple of days ago that’s the real reason we’re together tonight.
“I’m not much for public speaking,” Burt begins, “even when I’m doing the speaking in my own living room.
” He nervously clears his throat. “But my friend Silas here was right the other day when he was the one doing the talking over at the stadium, and a lot better than I ever could. Our town is dying in front of our eyes. And not just ours.” I can see his face getting red, just like that, the way it always has when he’s fired up about something.
Then his voice is rising as he says, “And I can’t take it anymore!”
“Honey,” Taylor says quietly. Burt is right in front of her. And she reaches over and gently touches his arm.
Burt looks down at her and nods, before taking a deep breath and then letting it out a little bit at a time as a way of slowing himself down. His face is still red, though, making him look like an angry kid.
“What I’m doing in my job isn’t enough,” he says, managing to lower his voice.
“What we’re all doing isn’t enough, obviously, not with these drugs and not with these missing girls and not with the terrible human trafficking we’re starting to hear about that might turn out to include these girls, if they’re still alive, that is. ”
He takes in more air, lets it out, then says, “Which brings us to the elephant in this room.”
He turns to face Helene Mayes and me.
“Briar Crockett,” Helene says. “What we like to call the head of the pyramid.”
Mayor Ted Boswell, in a chair next to her, says, “Now hold on, Helene. We can’t none of us prove that Briar Crockett has his fingerprints on all that. Or any of that.”
Before she can answer, Burt Webb says, “All due respect, Mr. Mayor, we haven’t proved it yet.
What’s the Good Book say about faith and how it comes down to believing what we can’t see?
Well, and again with all due respect, sir, we all can see what the Crocketts are doing, and it’s right in front of our eyes. And why we’re all here.”
He comes over to Helene Mayes and says, “Okay, I’m done.”
Helene Mayes walks to the middle of the room. Maybe it’s her size, or her manner. But she has everybody’s full attention before she says a word. Has the room in all ways.
“Curious about something,” she begins. “Anybody here ever see the movie Unforgiven?”
I see some, but not all, in the room raise a hand. Mine is one of them. It’s like she just played into my wheelhouse. Damn, I love Clint Eastwood in that movie, especially when he kills Gene Hackman at the end, right after Hackman’s character says he doesn’t deserve it.
And Eastwood says, “Deserve’s got nothing to do with it.”
In this room are small, upholstered, antique chairs that Tay’s mom had gifted her when she and Burt moved in here. In this moment, with Helene Mayes towering over them, they look as if they belong in a dollhouse.
She slowly moves her eyes from one guest to another, taking her time, as if savoring the moment.
“The governor has essentially sent me here to clean up this town,” she says, “and a few more than that if we get this thing done right. Mayor Larson is on board. So is Mayor Boswell, and Officer Webb has agreed to work for and with me.”
She looks at Claire Larson, who nods in agreement. So does Ted Boswell, who’s in the chair next to her.
“So we’re all clear on our mission, correct?” she asks. “Clean up this town, and the next town over, and the next town over from that.”
“Crystal,” Claire Larson says firmly.
“Then let me make one other thing clear,” Helene says. “I don’t want anybody whining to me afterward on how I did it.”