He’s got connections.”
Jack checked Derrick to make sure he was taking notes.
Galen yanked the bedcovers, puffed them up, and wiggled back and forth.
“Look at you, Daddy.” Travis leaned him forward and flipped his pillow. “You’re like a fart in a skillet.”
“I’m ready to git home. Had far ’nough a’ this hospital.”
Jack eyed Derrick. “We need to talk to Spivey Brinkman, pronto.”
“I talked to the Dispatch about this whole thing once, long time ago,” Galen said. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna come of this. No offense toward you boys …”
It took a second for Galen’s comment to hit Jack.
“What do you mean, you talked with the Dispatch ?” he said.
“Gal named Sheets,” Galen said matter-of-factly. “Don’t recall her first name.”
“Amy Sheets?” Derrick said.
Galen nodded. “That’s it. She done interviewed me about Demler-Vargus long time ago. Never heard another word about it.”
“You never told me that,” Travis said.
“Me either,” LJ said.
Jack underlined Amy’s name on his pad. “This is the second time her name’s come up.” He looked at Derrick. “Jocelyn told me Amy was nosing around Demler-Vargus nine months or a year ago.”
“You need to get with her,” Travis said.
“She’s gone,” Derrick said.
“She moved to Columbus,” Jack said. “Jocelyn said Amy was interviewing a couple who worked at Demler-Vargus. But then it just dropped. No one in editorial even knew about it.”
“I never heard about it,” Derrick said.
“What did you tell Amy Sheets, Galen?” Jack said.
“I had some friends who worked in the plant—Emmett and Barb Doyle. That’s who she interviewed.” Galen closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out. “They was trying to get some money out of Demler-Vargus for their ailments. Barb struggled something awful with eye problems, breathing trouble—” Galen coughed. His voice was weakening. “Git me some of that cranberry juice, would you, Travis? With the crushed ice?”
Travis crossed to the sink.
“Did they have an attorney?” Derrick asked.
“Naw,” Galen said. “They went direct to Demler-Vargus. Told ’em if they didn’t help pay for their medical bills, they’d go to the media, tell the whole world. They had some gumption.”
“Did it work?” Derrick said.
“No sir,” Galen said. “That’s why they contacted the Sheets girl.”
“They told Amy about all this?” Jack said.
Galen took the cranberry drink from Travis and practically drained the plastic cup, dribbling some down his chin and onto the white blanket. “Ahh, thanks, son.”
LJ hurried over with some paper towels to clean him up, but Galen shooed him away.
Jack was on the edge of his seat. So was Derrick, who breathed audibly through O-shaped lips.
“The Sheets girl came to me because Emmett and Barb told her about Betty Jo, my wife.” Galen rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Thinking about his wife again, probably …
“Jack, we’re gonna need to stop soon.” Travis moved toward his dad. “Daddy’s gettin’ wore out.”
Jack knew he was right.
Galen lifted his head and looked at Jack. “Barb and Emmett knew that I thought Demler-Vargus was responsible for Betty Jo’s death. Barb’s symptoms was just like Betty Jo’s. Eyes burnin’ like blazes. Headaches. Dizzy. At times her whole body felt like a pincushion. She needed oxygen all the time.”
Galen’s head dropped back onto the pillow.
Travis moved over and squeezed his shoulder. His father patted his hand.
“Where are Emmett and Barb now?” Derrick said.
There was a knock at the door.
“Good grief, what now?” Still holding the remote, LJ lumbered to the door.
Galen was distracted but continued. “They moved south. Doctors said it might help Barb.”
“Do you know where in the south?” Derrick asked.
“Nope. They was up and gone faster than a bee-stung stallion.”
Jack eyed Derrick as they closed their notepads
Jack checked Derrick to make sure he was taking notes.
Galen yanked the bedcovers, puffed them up, and wiggled back and forth.
“Look at you, Daddy.” Travis leaned him forward and flipped his pillow. “You’re like a fart in a skillet.”
“I’m ready to git home. Had far ’nough a’ this hospital.”
Jack eyed Derrick. “We need to talk to Spivey Brinkman, pronto.”
“I talked to the Dispatch about this whole thing once, long time ago,” Galen said. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna come of this. No offense toward you boys …”
It took a second for Galen’s comment to hit Jack.
“What do you mean, you talked with the Dispatch ?” he said.
“Gal named Sheets,” Galen said matter-of-factly. “Don’t recall her first name.”
“Amy Sheets?” Derrick said.
Galen nodded. “That’s it. She done interviewed me about Demler-Vargus long time ago. Never heard another word about it.”
“You never told me that,” Travis said.
“Me either,” LJ said.
Jack underlined Amy’s name on his pad. “This is the second time her name’s come up.” He looked at Derrick. “Jocelyn told me Amy was nosing around Demler-Vargus nine months or a year ago.”
“You need to get with her,” Travis said.
“She’s gone,” Derrick said.
“She moved to Columbus,” Jack said. “Jocelyn said Amy was interviewing a couple who worked at Demler-Vargus. But then it just dropped. No one in editorial even knew about it.”
“I never heard about it,” Derrick said.
“What did you tell Amy Sheets, Galen?” Jack said.
“I had some friends who worked in the plant—Emmett and Barb Doyle. That’s who she interviewed.” Galen closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out. “They was trying to get some money out of Demler-Vargus for their ailments. Barb struggled something awful with eye problems, breathing trouble—” Galen coughed. His voice was weakening. “Git me some of that cranberry juice, would you, Travis? With the crushed ice?”
Travis crossed to the sink.
“Did they have an attorney?” Derrick asked.
“Naw,” Galen said. “They went direct to Demler-Vargus. Told ’em if they didn’t help pay for their medical bills, they’d go to the media, tell the whole world. They had some gumption.”
“Did it work?” Derrick said.
“No sir,” Galen said. “That’s why they contacted the Sheets girl.”
“They told Amy about all this?” Jack said.
Galen took the cranberry drink from Travis and practically drained the plastic cup, dribbling some down his chin and onto the white blanket. “Ahh, thanks, son.”
LJ hurried over with some paper towels to clean him up, but Galen shooed him away.
Jack was on the edge of his seat. So was Derrick, who breathed audibly through O-shaped lips.
“The Sheets girl came to me because Emmett and Barb told her about Betty Jo, my wife.” Galen rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Thinking about his wife again, probably …
“Jack, we’re gonna need to stop soon.” Travis moved toward his dad. “Daddy’s gettin’ wore out.”
Jack knew he was right.
Galen lifted his head and looked at Jack. “Barb and Emmett knew that I thought Demler-Vargus was responsible for Betty Jo’s death. Barb’s symptoms was just like Betty Jo’s. Eyes burnin’ like blazes. Headaches. Dizzy. At times her whole body felt like a pincushion. She needed oxygen all the time.”
Galen’s head dropped back onto the pillow.
Travis moved over and squeezed his shoulder. His father patted his hand.
“Where are Emmett and Barb now?” Derrick said.
There was a knock at the door.
“Good grief, what now?” Still holding the remote, LJ lumbered to the door.
Galen was distracted but continued. “They moved south. Doctors said it might help Barb.”
“Do you know where in the south?” Derrick asked.
“Nope. They was up and gone faster than a bee-stung stallion.”
Jack eyed Derrick as they closed their notepads
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