The Reckless Oath We Made - Bryn Greenwood Page 0,81
been easy for her these years.”
“What do you mean by kidnapped?” Dirk said.
“She was volunteering with a prison ministry at El Dorado, and they had two inmates—”
“Oh, holy shit! I heard about that, about the prison break. LaReigne’s one of the hostages? Shit, I woulda paid more attention to that on the radio if I’d known it was my cousin.”
“Those are the guys tried to blow up that Moslem church a couple years back, right?” Dane said. I nodded and he snorted. “She’s prolly fine. They’re good old boys, I bet you.”
“Yeah, good old boys who just, you know, already killed their other hostage,” I said. I hadn’t had much appetite to begin with, but sitting there with half my dinner left on my plate, thinking about Molly Verbansky, I couldn’t swallow another bite.
“Oh, you know what I mean. They ain’t likely to kill her. Unlike you with that hair, looking like you got a poodle in the woodpile, LaReigne looks like good Aryan blood. And with our granddaddy being in the Klan, she’s practically a KKK princess.”
Dirk thought his brother’s joke was pretty funny, because they both laughed. I didn’t say anything. Molly was a white woman, too, for all the good it did her.
“Ain’t the only danger a woman’s in,” Uncle Alva said in a low voice. “So Zhorzha needs her family.”
After we finished eating, Dirk and Dane went out on the porch to smoke, like they’d never heard of washing dishes. Uncle Alva stuck around to help Gentry and me clear the table. Maybe they didn’t usually sit down to family dinners, because the only dishes in the drying rack were a single plate and a fork.
“Why don’t you two go out on the porch and I’ll take care of the dishes,” I said. I was used to doing that when I was a guest, but I also needed to get Gentry out of the habit while we were there. He didn’t care if Dane and Dirk sniped at him doing women’s work, but them sizing him up made me uneasy. Since I’d brought him there, I needed to make a place for him that Dane and Dirk would respect.
“Go on,” I said again, because Gentry was there at my elbow, like he was trying to cut in on a dance. “Go. I’ll bring you a beer when I’m done.”
He tilted his head to the right. Whoever he was listening to must have given him the same advice, because he nodded and went outside. Then it was just Uncle Alva and me. He sat down at the table, so I dried my hands and turned around to look at him.
“I came because I need to talk to you,” I said. “I need your help.”
“I figured as much when you called. I’m sorry I was so short with you, but you never can be sure who’s listening.”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t think about that, but I need you to help me find out where LaReigne is.”
“Girl, it don’t work like that,” he said. “I can’t just pick up the phone and call the KKK.”
“I think it works like this—if anybody knows anything, it’s Craig Van Eck, because Barnwell and Ligett were part of his gang. And you know Craig Van Eck, because you and Dad were in his bullshit white brotherhood gang, too. White Circle, whatever it’s called.”
Uncle Alva laid his hand on his forearm and smoothed out his shirtsleeve, so I knew he had the same tattoo as Dad. The same as Tague Barnwell.
“Lord, yes,” Uncle Alva said. “I know Van Eck. I wish I could answer otherwise, but I was part of his gang when I was inside. Wasn’t much choice about it, if you wanted to serve your time without taking a knife in your side or a dick up your ass. That’s how it works. They tell you they’re protecting you from other inmates, but it’s like any other protection racket. All they’re selling you is protection from them. You don’t join, you’re fair game. But that’s all done. Van Eck hasn’t heard nothing of the Trego boys since your daddy died. I don’t owe Van Eck nothing, and he don’t owe me nothing.”
“That was only six years ago. You’re telling me you don’t know anybody who’s gotten out since then who knows somebody who knows somebody who might know where Barnwell and Ligett would go to hide out? Nobody?” It all came gushing out, because I was tired and frustrated.