Donovan pulled up close to a trailer, turned off the ignition, and set the hand brake. “Let me take care of business and I can finish the story on the way back.There’s a hard hat in the back if you want to take a walk around.”
“You go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
Donovan left me in the pickup while he conferred with a man in coveralls and a hard hat. The two disappeared into the trailer while I waited. From a distance, the machinery was the size of Matchbox toys. I watched as a conveyor belt moved loose rock in a steady stream that poured off the end into a cascading pile. I lifted my chin, shifting my sights to the countryside stretched out in a pristine canvas of hazy mountain and low growing dark green. I let my gaze drift across the site, trying to make sense out of what Donovan had said. As nearly as I remembered Guy’s passing reference to Patty, he saw his discretion with her as his one decent act. He’d described her as unstable, emotionally fragile, something along those lines. It was hard to believe he’d try to convince me of his honor when he’d gone to such lengths to rip her mother off. In truth, he’d ripped Patty off too since the money from the letters was supposed to go to her.
The sun was beating down on the cab of the pickup. Donovan had left the windows open so I wouldn’t cook to death. White dust clouded the air and the growling of heavy equipment battled the quiet. I could hear the clank of metal, the high whine of shifting gears as a wheel loader grumbled across flat ground as barren as a moonscape. I unsnapped my seat belt and slouched down on my spine with my knees propped on the dashboard. I didn’t want Guy to be guilty of a crime of this magnitude. What was done was done, but this was bad, bad, bad. I was prepared for pranks, willing to accept minor acts of mischief, but grand larceny was tough to overlook, even at this remove.
I didn’t realize I’d been dozing until I heard the crunch of work boots and Donovan opened the truck door on the driver’s side. I awoke with a start. He kicked the sides of his boots against the floor frame, knocking gravel loose before he slid in beneath the steering wheel. I sat up and refastened my seat belt.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it. I was just resting my eyes,” I said dryly.
He slammed the door, clicked his seat belt into place, and turned the key in the ignition. Within moments, we were bouncing down the road toward the highway again. “Where was I?” he asked.
“Guy switched a set of forged letters for the real ones and then disappeared. You were saying your father refused to make good.”
“I’ll say. The letters were worth something close to fifty thousand dollars. In those days, Dad didn’t have that kind of money and wouldn’t have paid anyway.”
“What happened to the letters? Did Guy sell them?”
“He must have, because as far as I know, they were never seen again. Paul Trasatti could tell you more. His father was the appraiser brought in once the switch was made.”
“So he was the one who confirmed the bad news to Mrs. Maddison?”
“Right.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was a lush to begin with and she’d been popping pills for years. She didn’t last long. Between the alcohol and cigarettes, she was dead in five years.”
“And Patty?”
“That was unfortunate. In May of that year-this was two months after Guy left-Patty turned up pregnant. She was seventeen years old and didn’t want anyone to know. She’d had a lot of mental problems and I think she was worried they’d put her away, which they probably would have. At any rate, she had an illegal abortion and died of septicemia.”
“What?”
“You heard me right. She had what they referred to as a ‘backroom’ abortion, which was more common than you’d think. Procedure wasn’t sterile-just some hack down in San Diego. She developed blood poisoning and she died.”
“You’re kidding.”
“It’s the truth,” he said. “We weren’t down on Guy for nothing. I know you think we’re nothing but a bunch of hostile jerks, but this is what we’ve had to live with and it hasn’t been easy.”
“Why wasn’t something said before now?”
“In what context? The subject never came up. We all knew what happened. We discussed it among ourselves, but we don’t run around airing our dirty laundry in front of other people. You think we like owning up to his part in it?”
I brooded about it, staring out at the passing roadside. “I’m really having trouble believing this.”
“I’m not surprised. You don’t want to think Guy would do a thing like that.”
“No, I don’t,” I said. “Guy told me Patty was hung up on him. He considered it his one decent act that he didn’t seduce her when he had the chance. Now why would he say that?”
“He was hoping to impress you. Stands to reason,” he said.
“But there wasn’t any context. This was passing conversation, something he brought up. He didn’t go into any detail. What’s to be impressed about?”
“Guy was a liar. He couldn’t help himself.”
“He might have been a liar back then, but why lie about the girl all these years later? I didn’t know her. I wasn’t pressing for information. Why bother to lie when he had nothing to gain?”
“Look, I know you liked him. Most women did. You start feeling sorry for him. You feel protective. You don’t want to accept the fact he was twisted as they come. This is the kind of shit he pulled.”
“It isn’t that,” I said, offended. “He’d undergone a lot of soul-searching. He’d committed his life to God. There wasn’t any point fabricating some tall tale about Patty Maddison.”
“He was busy revising history. It’s something we all do. You repent your sins and then in memory, you start cleaning up your past. Pretty soon, you’re convinced you weren’t nearly as bad as everyone said. The other guy was a jerk, but you had good reason for anything you did. It’s all bunk, of course, but which of us can stand to take a look at ourselves? We whitewash. It’s human nature.”
“You’re talking about the Guy Malek of the old days. Not the one I met. All I know is, I have a hard time picturing Guy doing this.”
“You knew him less than a week and believed everything he said. He was a bad egg.”
“But Donovan, look at the nature of his crimes. None of them, were like this,” I said. “As a kid, he was into vandalism. Later, he stole cars and stereos to pay for drugs. Forgery’s too sophisticated a scheme for someone who spent his days getting high. Trust me. I’ve been high. You think you’re profound but you’re barely functional.”
“Guy was a bright boy. He learned fast.”
“I better talk to Paul,” I said, unwilling to concede.
“He’ll tell you the same thing. In fact, that’s probably what put the idea in Guy’s head in the first place. You have a good friend whose dad deals in rare documents, it doesn’t take any great leap to figure it out when you’ve got access to something valuable.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but it isn’t sitting right.”
“You know anything about liars?” Donovan asked.
“Sure, I think I can say so. What about ’em?”
“A liar-a truly dedicated liar-lies because he can, because he’s good at it. He lies for the pure pleasure, because he loves getting away with it. That’s how Guy was. If he could tell you some lie-even if it meant nothing, even if there was nothing to be gained-he couldn’t resist.”
“You’re telling me he was a pathological liar,” I said, restating his claim in a tone of skepticism.
“I’m saying he enjoyed lying. He couldn’t help himself.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said. “I happen to think I’m a pretty good judge of liars.”
“You know when some people lie, but not all.”
“What makes you such an expert?” I said, beginning to take offense. Donovan was just as annoyed with me.
He made a dismissive gesture. I suspected he wasn’t used to having women argue with him. “Forget it. Have it your way,” he said. “I can tell I’m not going to persuade you of anything.”
“Nor I you,” I said tartly. “What happened to the older sister?”
Donovan grimaced with exasperation. “Are you going to take my word for it or is this an excuse for another round of arguments?”
“I’m arguing about Guy, not the Maddisons, okay?”
“Okay. Claire-the older one-abandoned her plans for med school. She had no money and her mom was sinking like a. stone. For a while she came back to. take care of her. That, was maybe six months or so. Once mom was gone, she went back to the East Coast-Rhode Island or some place. Might have been Connecticut. She got married to some fellow, but it didn’t work out. Then about a year ago, she offed herself. Or so I heard.”