Divine Justice

CHAPTER 29

BY THE NEXT MORNING nearly everyone in Divine had heard of Stone's heroics. Apparently Bob Coombs had told everyone he encountered of the stunning rescue, and the story had quickly spread.

"Cool a hand as I ever seen," he repeated over and over, referring to Stone.

"Heard he was in Nam," another man said. "Good under pressure."

"A true American hero," said one lady. She added in a lower tone while talking with a girlfriend of hers, "Too bad it was wasted on Willie Coombs."

Sheriff Tyree came to Stone's room that morning to congratulate and thank him. "Willie's a good young man except for the pills."

"He's a coal miner, right?" said Stone.

"How'd you know?"

"Scars and banged-up hands. And he had coal dust embedded in his skin. Does his mother know?"

"Shirley? Doubt she'd care."

Stone chose not to ask about that. "Bob Coombs said his son, Willie's father, was dead."

"Yep. Hunting accident. Didn't have his orange slicker on and somebody thought he was a deer. Abby told me to tell you she's got some more work you can do. Same pay scale."

"I'll head over there right now." After the news on the radio last night he was even more uncomfortable being around the lawman.

When Stone arrived at Rita's Restaurant Abby had breakfast waiting for him. When he walked in customers smiled and waved at him. A few miners came over and clapped him on the back, thanking him for helping their fellow miner.

"How's it feel to be a hero?" Abby asked, pouring him a cup of coffee.

"I'm just glad he's okay. But he's got a long road ahead of him. Apparently he has a drug problem."

"Most miners do. Willie Coombs is actually a good young man. He and Danny played ball in high school together. Best of friends but then they had a falling-out."

"Over what?"

"When we were all poor, that was one thing. Then when we got the settlement money Willie seemed to think Danny owed him. We gave him some money, sure, but most of it went up his nose so we stopped."

A tall, thin man came over to them. He was the only man in the place dressed in a suit and tie. His gray hair was neatly parted and fashionably cut. His eyes were gray and alert and his face was deeply lined, carrying the gravitas one usually found in scholars.

Abby said, "Ben, this is Charlie Trimble. He runs the Divine Eagle, the local newspaper."

It was all Stone could do not to leap up and run out of the place.

A smiling Trimble said, "I would love to interview you about your experience with Willie, Ben.Not only because it's an amazing story but it shows why we need to reinstate the volunteer rescue squad program here."

Abby looked at Stone. "Is that okay?"

Stone said slowly, "What I did wasn't all that special. And I'm not looking to get any publicity just because I helped someone."

Trimble smiled more broadly. "And modest too. That will work well in the story angle. It's just a few questions, Ben. We can even do it here or back at my office."

Stone stood. "Abby, if you have some more work for me to do that would be great." He looked at Trimble. "I'm sorry, Mr. Trimble. I'm sure Bob would love to talk to you. He helped as much as I did. Maybe more."

Trimble looked put off. "Just a couple of questions?"

"No, I'm sorry."

Abby gave him a list of jobs to do while Trimble sat at his table, drinking a cup of coffee and staring at Stone. And Stone could feel the burn of the man's gaze.

Stone worked half the day at the restaurant and the other half at Abby's home. And every minute he was desperately trying to think of some way out. If he left Divine he would probably be caught. If he stayed in Divine someone might put two and two together and one morning the feds would rumble into town. For one of the few times in his life, Stone did not know what to do.

On his way back to his rooming house that evening he saw Bob Coombs standing in front of it. The old man looked nervous, rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved in his pockets as he studied the pavement. Stone crossed the street.

"Hey, Bob, is Willie okay?"

Bob looked nervously around. "Can we talk somewhere private?"

Stone led him up to his room. "What's up?"

"Talked to Willie this morning and the docs over at the hospital and some things don't make sense."

"Like what?"

"It was sort of like you said. Drugs Willie said he took don't add up to what happened to him."

"Was it crack?"

"That's what Willie said he was on."

"He might have made a mistake."

Bob was shaking his head. "I know some folks think Willie's nothing but a pillhead, but he's not. He's a smart boy but killing himself in the mines. Started there right out of high school and looks like he's been there thirty years, just the way it is. But if he said it was crack, it was crack, you can count on it."

Stone studied him, not really sure why the man was telling him this. "Well, if you think something's wrong, Bob, you should let Sheriff Tyree know."

"I was wondering, sort of, if you could maybe step in."

"Me? Step in what exactly?" Stone said cautiously.

"You saved Willie's life. Easy to see you been around, know stuff. I was just hoping maybe you could talk to Willie, get his side of things and see what you can find out."

"I'm not a PI."

"Lost my son, see. Willie's the only thing I got left. Can't lose him too. Well, that's all I got to say. If you go see Willie, I thank you. And if you don't I still thank you for all you done."

"Has that fellow Trimble from the paper been by to see you?"

"Yep. Had some questions. Told him what you did. He said he's writing up the story. Said you wouldn't talk to him."

"I'm not much into tooting my horn. Is he from Divine?"

"Oh, no, he retired here. Got a little place up near the river and then took over running the newspaper here."

"Was he into journalism before?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Where?"

"Somebody told me once. The Washington Post."

Oh, shit.

"Look, Ben, I can pay you if you'd look into it."

"Bob, go see the sheriff. That's his job. Not mine."

"But-"

"I'm sorry, Bob. I can't."