here." In Santa Teresa, all paths were destined to cross and recross eventually. Now the next generation was being folded into the mix. "Can you think of anyone else who might know what Mickey's up to?"
Shack studied me. "What's my motive in this"
"You could be helping him."
"And what's yours?"
"I want the answer to some questions I should have asked back then."
"About Benny?"
"That's right."
His smile was shrewd. He cupped a hand to his ear. "Do I hear guilt?"
"If you like."
"A little late, don't you think?"
"Probably. I'm not sure. The point is, I don't need your permission. Now, will you help me or not?"
He thought about it briefly. "What about the lawyer who represented him?"
"Bethel? I can try. I should have thought of him. That's a good idea."
"I'm full of good ideas."
"You think Mickey was innocent?"
"Of course. I was there and I saw. The guy was fine when he left."
"Shack, he had a plate in his head."
"Mickey didn't hit him. He never landed a blow."
"How do you know he didn't go after him again? The two might have gotten into it somewhere else. Mickey wasn't exactly famous for his self-control. That was one of my complaints."
Shack wagged his head. The gesture turned into a neck roll, complete with cracking sound. "Sorry about that. I'm going to see the chiropractor later on account of this effing neck of mine. Yeah, it's possible. Why not? Maybe there was more to it than Mickey let on. I'm telling you what I saw, and it was no big deal."
"Fair enough."
"Incidentally, not that it's any of my business, but you should've stood by him. That's the least you could do. This isn't just me. A lot of the guys resented what you did."
"Well, I resented Mickey's asking me to lie for him. He wanted me to tell the DA he was in at nine o'clock that night instead of midnight or one A.M., whatever the hell time it was when he finally rolled in."
"Oh, that's right," he said snidely. "You never tell lies yourself."
"Not about murder. Absolutely not," I snapped.
"Bullshit. You really think Magruder beat a guy to death?"
"How do I know? That's what I'm trying to find out. Mickey was off course. He was intent on the Might and the Right of the law, and he didn't give a damn what he had to do to get the job done."
"Yeah, and you ask my opinion there should have been more like him. Besides, what I hear, you're not exactly one to be casting stones."
"I'll grant you that one. That's why I'm not in uniform today. But my butt wasn't on the line back then, his was. If Mickey had an alibi, he should have said so up front instead of asking me to lie."
Shack's expression shifted and he broke off eye contact.
I said, "Come on, Shack. You know perfectly well where he was. Why don't you fill me in and we can put an end to this?"
"Is that why you're here?"
"In the main," I said.
"I can tell you this much: He wasn't on Highway 154 hassling a vet. He wasn't anywhere within miles."
"That's good. I believe you. Now could we try this? Mickey had a girlfriend. You remember Dixie Hightower? According to her, they were together that night 'getting it on,' to use the time-honored phrase."
"So he was sticking it to Dixie. Whoopee-do. So what? Everybody screwed around in those days."
"I didn't."
"Maybe not when you were married, but you were the same as everyone else, only maybe not as open or as honest."
I bypassed the judgment and went back to the subject under discussion. "Someone could have warned me.
"We assumed you knew. Neither of 'em went to any great lengths to cover up. Think of all the times you left the Honky-Tonk before him. What'd you think he was doing, going to night school? He was nailing her. Big deal. She was a bimbo tended bar. She wasn't any threat to you."
I swallowed my outrage, dismissing it as unproductive. I needed information, not an argument. Betrayal is betrayal, no matter when the truth of it sinks in. Whether Dixie was a threat to that marriage was beside the point. Even fourteen years later, I
Shack studied me. "What's my motive in this"
"You could be helping him."
"And what's yours?"
"I want the answer to some questions I should have asked back then."
"About Benny?"
"That's right."
His smile was shrewd. He cupped a hand to his ear. "Do I hear guilt?"
"If you like."
"A little late, don't you think?"
"Probably. I'm not sure. The point is, I don't need your permission. Now, will you help me or not?"
He thought about it briefly. "What about the lawyer who represented him?"
"Bethel? I can try. I should have thought of him. That's a good idea."
"I'm full of good ideas."
"You think Mickey was innocent?"
"Of course. I was there and I saw. The guy was fine when he left."
"Shack, he had a plate in his head."
"Mickey didn't hit him. He never landed a blow."
"How do you know he didn't go after him again? The two might have gotten into it somewhere else. Mickey wasn't exactly famous for his self-control. That was one of my complaints."
Shack wagged his head. The gesture turned into a neck roll, complete with cracking sound. "Sorry about that. I'm going to see the chiropractor later on account of this effing neck of mine. Yeah, it's possible. Why not? Maybe there was more to it than Mickey let on. I'm telling you what I saw, and it was no big deal."
"Fair enough."
"Incidentally, not that it's any of my business, but you should've stood by him. That's the least you could do. This isn't just me. A lot of the guys resented what you did."
"Well, I resented Mickey's asking me to lie for him. He wanted me to tell the DA he was in at nine o'clock that night instead of midnight or one A.M., whatever the hell time it was when he finally rolled in."
"Oh, that's right," he said snidely. "You never tell lies yourself."
"Not about murder. Absolutely not," I snapped.
"Bullshit. You really think Magruder beat a guy to death?"
"How do I know? That's what I'm trying to find out. Mickey was off course. He was intent on the Might and the Right of the law, and he didn't give a damn what he had to do to get the job done."
"Yeah, and you ask my opinion there should have been more like him. Besides, what I hear, you're not exactly one to be casting stones."
"I'll grant you that one. That's why I'm not in uniform today. But my butt wasn't on the line back then, his was. If Mickey had an alibi, he should have said so up front instead of asking me to lie."
Shack's expression shifted and he broke off eye contact.
I said, "Come on, Shack. You know perfectly well where he was. Why don't you fill me in and we can put an end to this?"
"Is that why you're here?"
"In the main," I said.
"I can tell you this much: He wasn't on Highway 154 hassling a vet. He wasn't anywhere within miles."
"That's good. I believe you. Now could we try this? Mickey had a girlfriend. You remember Dixie Hightower? According to her, they were together that night 'getting it on,' to use the time-honored phrase."
"So he was sticking it to Dixie. Whoopee-do. So what? Everybody screwed around in those days."
"I didn't."
"Maybe not when you were married, but you were the same as everyone else, only maybe not as open or as honest."
I bypassed the judgment and went back to the subject under discussion. "Someone could have warned me.
"We assumed you knew. Neither of 'em went to any great lengths to cover up. Think of all the times you left the Honky-Tonk before him. What'd you think he was doing, going to night school? He was nailing her. Big deal. She was a bimbo tended bar. She wasn't any threat to you."
I swallowed my outrage, dismissing it as unproductive. I needed information, not an argument. Betrayal is betrayal, no matter when the truth of it sinks in. Whether Dixie was a threat to that marriage was beside the point. Even fourteen years later, I
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