The Last Death of Jack Harbin Read Online Free Page B

bit.”
    â€œBelle, don’t bullshit me. What did Curtis want?”
    Belle picks up a stack of papers and smacks them smartly on the desk to straighten them. “He accused Earnest of pushing you to choose our more expensive line. Don’t worry, Earnest set him straight.”
    â€œGod damn Curtis,” Jack says.
    â€œHoney, don’t let him rile you up. I see family fights over all kinds of things, and it’s not worth getting yourself upset.”
    â€œAre they done fixing Daddy up?” Jack says. “I’d like to have some time with him when I can.”
    â€œSugar, I don’t think Letitia is finished with the touch-up, but you come on by an hour before visitation tonight and you can sit there with him as long as you like.” It’s ludicrous to think that Bob needs to look any particular way for Jack, since Jack can’t see him anyway. But Belle’s word is law.
    â€œThere’s one more thing.” Jack’s lip is curled. “I don’t want Woody Patterson here tonight. I can’t keep him from coming to the funeral, but I don’t want him at the visitation.”
    Belle frowns and squinches up her eyes. “I disagree with you. I think anybody should be allowed in who wants to pay respects, but I’m not going to argue with you.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œWhat about his family? You mind if Laurel comes? Or Woody’s daddy?” Her voice is as cold as dry ice.
    â€œI don’t have a problem with the rest of them.”
    When we get back to the house, Jack says he’s done in and needs to lie down. I’m glad for the break, and also glad that Curtis isn’t around. I help Jack get settled in his bed and head into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. No sooner have I sat down at the dinette table with the coffee when the phone rings. It’s Doc Taggart, Bob’s doctor, with a verbal report for the boys about the preliminary autopsy report. I jot down the information and take my coffee into the living room.
    I jerk awake when Curtis comes in the front door. I sit up and take a deep breath. My neck is stiff from my head flopping backwards onto the back of the chair when I nodded off. I don’t usually sleep in the afternoon and I feel stupid with it.
    â€œDon’t get up,” Curtis says. He’s carrying a Dairy Queen sack, which he holds out in an awkward gesture. “Got extra fries, if you want some.”
    I tell him to go ahead, and about that time Jack calls out for someone to help him get up. I help him into his chair and wheel him into the kitchen where Curtis has his hamburger and French fries set up. Jack lights a cigarette.
    Curtis waves his hand in front of his face. “Whole house smells like cigarette smoke.”
    â€œThere’s a perfectly good motel if your delicate nose can’t handle it,” Jack says. “Besides, think about the advantage to you. I’ll probably die faster, so you can inherit what I’ve got.”
    â€œIf there’s anything left after you burn through it.”
    â€œAll right boys, you can fight on your own time. There’s something I need to tell you.” I tell them about the call from Doc Taggart with the preliminary autopsy report. “I hope you don’t mind if I took down the particulars.”
    â€œFine with me,” Curtis says. “What did Taggart say?”
    â€œLike we all figured, your dad died of a heart attack. I asked the doc if Bob had a history of heart problems and he said no, and the coroner said his heart looked in pretty good shape and it was probably an arrhythmia.”
    Jack sighs. “I wish that SOB Doc Taggart had kept a better eye on him. He might have needed a pacemaker or something.”
    â€œToo late to worry about that now,” Curtis says. How did he get to be such a cold-hearted man? Jack sits up and I can see by the set of his mouth that he’s about to go off on a