The Forgotten Child, Lorhainne Eckhart [bearly read books txt] 📗

The detective tracked Cliff down in the first bar he stopped at; a dingy, local hangout off the highway. Cliff was sitting at the bar, pounding the counter, demanding another drink. The bartender eyed Byrd, a former NYPD cop, retired out here for the slower pace. Byrd unzipped his tan jacket over his middle that had grown a little slack, about average for a man in his sixties.

Byrd took the stool next to Cliff and nodded to the bartender. “Next one’s on me.”

“Your funeral.” The big, bearded bartender, with eyes that had seen everything, poured two drafts of what was on tap and slid them in front of Byrd and Cliff.

“Thanks, pal.” Cliff slurred his words.

“A man sitting alone at a bar with that kind of look, reminds me of what my ex did to me, after she robbed me blind and kicked me to the curb.” Byrd looked straight ahead, gazing into the mirror above the bar.

Cliff swayed as he downed a good swallow of beer. He swayed again as he leaned on the bar and stared at Byrd. The farmhand wondered: Who is this drunk looking for trouble?

“Not looking to fight with you, son. But sometimes it helps to share your problems with a stranger.” Byrd took another swallow of the cheap draft they were passing off as beer.

“What the hell would you know about bein’ scammed by a pretty face, dangled for years with promises; because you’re so in love with some hot babe, you’d jump through fire for her.” He was really swaying now.

“Oh, I think we’ve all been there, son, at one time in our life. Some people won’t ever admit how they’d been taken advantage of; as if it makes you less of a man. It don’t.”

Cliff guzzled the last of his beer, waved his cup in the air. “Hey, Barkeep, fill ’er up. And keep it coming.” He shouted and slammed his cup on the scratched counter.

“You’re done, buddy; I’ll call you a cab.” The bartender cut his hand in front of Byrd. “No more for your friend.”

Byrd stood up and fingered out a few bills, dumping them on the counter. “I got it; I’ll get him home.” The bartender held up the flat of his hand and walked away. But Cliff didn’t plan on going anywhere.

“What? No way! I ain’t drunk enough. And I plan on getting a hell of a lot drunker.”

Byrd patted his shoulder, “Come on friend, I’ve got a bottle of whiskey with your name on it.”

“Yeah.” That got his attention. But he swayed when he stood, so Byrd helped him out to his car, and hoped to hell the man didn’t get sick.

Brad was running late the next morning, but understandably so, as he was shorthanded with Cliff gone. Keith was speaking with an older, balding guy he introduced as Byrd when he hurried in Keith’s office.

“So what do you have?”

Keith gestured toward the ex-cop. “Byrd, fill Brad in.”

“Well, your friend was pretty drunk by the time I found him. I checked him into a cheap motel by the ocean; he puked in my car by the way. You owe me for the cleaning.”

“Okay, okay.” Brad shrugged. “What else?”

“That guy was twisted so tight around your wife’s finger, I kind of feel sorry for him. He started working for you ten years ago, apparently he and Crystal were friends before that. She got him the job with you.” Byrd had the most crooked teeth Brad had ever seen.

“I guess that’s right. I think he kind of puppy-dogged after her through school.”

“Yeah well, apparently, while he worked for you, Crystal used him as her friendly ear. Whenever she needed someone to back up her side of a story, she went to him. He’d been in love with her for years, fantasizing one day she’d leave you and come looking for him. After she left, she’d call him every month or so to talk. He told Crystal when Emily moved in. He said, after that, she phoned every day. And it was then that she told Cliff that you’d thrown her out, but she had been too ashamed to tell him. Told him she was terrified of you and your temper, and you gave her no choice, and, at the time, she didn’t believe she legally had any rights. Crystal told him how worried she was about her little boy. Cliff said he had wanted to confront you. But she’d played the terrified, scared-helpless-female-card, and said you would hurt her in retaliation.

“He believed her, the sap. So he searched your office when you and Emily were in town. He’d called Crystal from your office, and she told him which papers to dig out. Your business records, land proposals, development permits, bank records, and what kind of income you’re pulling in.

“When Cliff saw Emily in your arms one night on the porch, with your lips locked together, he phoned Crystal and told her. That’s when Crystal came home.”

Brad drove through town and down the highway, before eventually pulling in at the Oceanview Motel. He paid the desk clerk a hundred dollars to give up Cliff’s room number. Of course, it was listed under Byrd. He pounded on the dingy blue door. “Cliff, its Brad. I need to talk to you; open up.”

Glass and bottles rattled and clanked on the other side of the door. It cracked open enough for Brad to wince from the pungent, raunchy odor of day old booze seeping from the pores of a drunk. Cliff slunk back to bed and held his head in his hands. “You got one hell of a hangover by the looks of things, Cliff.”

He whispered roughly, “Look, Brad, I’m done. Just go away and leave me alone.”

“First, I want to apologize.”

Cliff bolted into the bathroom. Brad closed the outside door and listened to the putrid retching and gagging as the poor guy vomited into the toilet. The odor seeped into the room when Cliff reappeared; the stale alcohol and the bitter rotgut lingering in the sweat that glazed Cliff’s damp shirt and face. He shuffled like an old man to the bed. Brad cracked a window.

“Rough night?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t bother to look up. Just held his head as he sat slouched on the bed.

“Do you want your job back?”

He looked up and winced at the effort. “What? Now why would you give me my job back after what I did?”

“Look, Cliff. Let me ask you something and give me an honest answer. She still got you fooled?”

His bloodshot eyes narrowed. “She’s conniving, and she threw me to the wolves. Let me ask you this, did you throw her out after the baby?”

“Cliff, you were there. You really have to ask? She disappeared. Don’t you remember the day Mary came, and Crystal had left Trevor