Read Online The Rooster Bar by John Grisham - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Grisham
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our friend and he’s been having some trouble lately. Got a DUI last night and we’ve been keeping an eye on him all day. We were afraid he might do something stupid.”
“Does he have mental problems?”
“No, he’s just off his meds.” His voice cracked and he wiped his eyes again. “I can’t believe this.”
“I’m sorry, son. I’m Detective Swayze, DCPD. Here’s my card with my cell number.”
Mark took the card and managed to say, “Thanks.”
“We’re searching now and it’ll take some time, but we’ll find him. Do you know his family?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Martinsburg, West Virginia.”
“Do you mind giving them a call? They’ll probably want to get over here.”
That was the last phone call Mark wanted to make, but he nodded and said, “Sure. Can we help with the search, or something?”
“Sorry, son, there’s nothing for you to do but wait. Text me your phone number and I’ll call when we find him.”
“How long will it take?”
The detective shrugged and said, “You never know with something like this. I suggest you go someplace warm and wait. I’ll call you later with an update. Tell the family they can call me too. And look, we’ve searched the car but there’s no note. Do you know where he lives?”
“I do.”
“Okay. Do you mind checking his place to see if he left behind a note? They usually do. If you find something, call me at once.”
“I’ll do that.”
Swayze put a hand on Mark’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, son.”
“Thanks.” Mark began walking along the sidewalk. Another ambulance was approaching from the west and traffic was backing up in that direction as well. There seemed to be a million flashing lights. Two larger boats with search beams had joined the first and they circled under the archways of the bridge.
Mark and Todd helped Zola to her feet. They were freezing, numb, but too shocked to feel anything. They half carried her back to the car, which was blocked by traffic. Todd started the engine and the heater and they sat in stunned horror and watched the nightmare. Zola wept in the front passenger’s seat. Todd slumped against his window and looked like a ghost. Mark sobbed and tried to catch his breath. Minutes passed as his phone kept vibrating. He finally took it out of his pocket and said, “Brenda’s called four times. Someone has to tell her.”
Todd said, “That someone is you, Mark. You have no choice.”
“Why can’t you call her?”
“Because you know her better. She’s calling you, not me.”
Mark clutched his phone and waited. A tow truck with yellow lights inched its way through the stalled traffic and weaved around the police cars. Someone with authority decided the ambulances would not be needed, so they left, along with a few of the police cars.
“You gonna call her?” Todd asked.
“I’m trying to find the courage,” Mark said.
“This is my fault,” Zola said, sobbing.
“It’s no one’s fault and you know it,” Todd said, but with little conviction.
“I did this,” she said. “I did this.”
The yellow lights turned around, and they watched the tow truck come toward them in an eastbound lane. It passed them with Gordy’s car on its rear wheels. More boats arrived and the flotilla fanned out south of the bridge, searching. The police cleared two of the westbound lanes and the stalled traffic began moving slowly.
Mark said, “What do I tell her? I can’t say he’s dead because we don’t know for sure, right?”
Todd said, “He’s dead, Mark. Tell her he jumped off a bridge into the Potomac River and they’re searching for his body.”
“I can’t do it.”
“You have no choice.”
Mark took a deep breath but did not make the call. He said, “I was with him when he made his decision. We were at the Waterfront, and Gordy was staring at this bridge. When he turned around he was calm and smiling. He made up his mind and was at peace with his plans. I was too
“Does he have mental problems?”
“No, he’s just off his meds.” His voice cracked and he wiped his eyes again. “I can’t believe this.”
“I’m sorry, son. I’m Detective Swayze, DCPD. Here’s my card with my cell number.”
Mark took the card and managed to say, “Thanks.”
“We’re searching now and it’ll take some time, but we’ll find him. Do you know his family?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Martinsburg, West Virginia.”
“Do you mind giving them a call? They’ll probably want to get over here.”
That was the last phone call Mark wanted to make, but he nodded and said, “Sure. Can we help with the search, or something?”
“Sorry, son, there’s nothing for you to do but wait. Text me your phone number and I’ll call when we find him.”
“How long will it take?”
The detective shrugged and said, “You never know with something like this. I suggest you go someplace warm and wait. I’ll call you later with an update. Tell the family they can call me too. And look, we’ve searched the car but there’s no note. Do you know where he lives?”
“I do.”
“Okay. Do you mind checking his place to see if he left behind a note? They usually do. If you find something, call me at once.”
“I’ll do that.”
Swayze put a hand on Mark’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, son.”
“Thanks.” Mark began walking along the sidewalk. Another ambulance was approaching from the west and traffic was backing up in that direction as well. There seemed to be a million flashing lights. Two larger boats with search beams had joined the first and they circled under the archways of the bridge.
Mark and Todd helped Zola to her feet. They were freezing, numb, but too shocked to feel anything. They half carried her back to the car, which was blocked by traffic. Todd started the engine and the heater and they sat in stunned horror and watched the nightmare. Zola wept in the front passenger’s seat. Todd slumped against his window and looked like a ghost. Mark sobbed and tried to catch his breath. Minutes passed as his phone kept vibrating. He finally took it out of his pocket and said, “Brenda’s called four times. Someone has to tell her.”
Todd said, “That someone is you, Mark. You have no choice.”
“Why can’t you call her?”
“Because you know her better. She’s calling you, not me.”
Mark clutched his phone and waited. A tow truck with yellow lights inched its way through the stalled traffic and weaved around the police cars. Someone with authority decided the ambulances would not be needed, so they left, along with a few of the police cars.
“You gonna call her?” Todd asked.
“I’m trying to find the courage,” Mark said.
“This is my fault,” Zola said, sobbing.
“It’s no one’s fault and you know it,” Todd said, but with little conviction.
“I did this,” she said. “I did this.”
The yellow lights turned around, and they watched the tow truck come toward them in an eastbound lane. It passed them with Gordy’s car on its rear wheels. More boats arrived and the flotilla fanned out south of the bridge, searching. The police cleared two of the westbound lanes and the stalled traffic began moving slowly.
Mark said, “What do I tell her? I can’t say he’s dead because we don’t know for sure, right?”
Todd said, “He’s dead, Mark. Tell her he jumped off a bridge into the Potomac River and they’re searching for his body.”
“I can’t do it.”
“You have no choice.”
Mark took a deep breath but did not make the call. He said, “I was with him when he made his decision. We were at the Waterfront, and Gordy was staring at this bridge. When he turned around he was calm and smiling. He made up his mind and was at peace with his plans. I was too