No Cry For Help by Grant McKenzie Read Free Book Online

blocks of the house, Crow eased up on the gas and flicked on his high beams. The street ahead looked the same as it always did — a harsh commingling of pride and neglect with the self-respecting owners holding a narrow lead over those who had given up trying to stand on their own two feet — but still . . .
    “Marvin was at your house,” Crow said, thinking aloud. “He knows we’re tight and bringing you in would look good. Maybe earn him a pat on the head.”
    Wallace leaned forward and peered through the windshield. “You think he would stake out your place?”
    Crow shrugged. “He’s one of them now.” He paused, chewed his cheek. “Although if you wanted to turn yourself in. Explain everything. He would treat you alright.”
    Wallace’s eyes flashed with anger as he shook away the suggestion.
    “I need to get back down there.” His jaw was clenched so tightly, the words could barely squeeze through. “Find Alicia and the boys. The cops get me now, I could be locked up for days.”
    Wallace’s eyes hardened and Crow felt his gaze on a physical level. It burrowed into his skull with the force of a dentist’s diamond-tipped drill.
    “I don’t want to get you or Delilah into trouble,” continued Wallace. “If you think you need to turn me in, drop me off now and I’ll be on my way.”
    Crow slowed the truck further and turned a small dial beneath the headlight switch all the way to the left. The lights in the dashboard went dark until only a green luminescence remained that showed the vehicle’s decreasing speed.
    “It disables the interior light,” explained Crow.
    Wallace turned away and reached for the door handle, but as he did so, Crow grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.
    “This is just a precaution,” he said. “I’ll see you at the house.”
     
     
    CROW PULLED into the driveway and wished his garage wasn’t so stuffed. Summer gear for the kids. Winter gear for hunting and snowmobiling. If they weren’t such pack rats, he could just drive inside and close the door.
    Instead, he parked in the driveway beside Delilah’s compact, four-passenger Focus and switched off the engine. As soon as he opened his door, a powerful flashlight cut through the darkness to blind him.
    “You alone, Crow?”
    “Nope,” said Crow. “You’re here.”
    The beam moved to illuminate the truck’s interior. When it found the cab empty, the beam travelled the length of the open truck bed before returning to Crow.
    “Kind of late for another drive, ain’t it?”
    “Kinda early for a visit, too,” answered Crow. “I don’t remember making plans to go fishin’.”
    Marvin’s sigh of exasperation traveled across the dormant lawn like a golf ball on the moon.
    “Did you see him?”
    “Who?”
    The vexed sigh again. “You know who.”
    Crow scratched his chin. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Marvin. I talked to Wallace.”
    “Damn it, Crow.”
    Crow held up one hand. “Now hold on a minute and listen.”
    Crow moved his hand slightly to block some of the flashlight’s intensity. He could see Marvin standing behind it. He was dressed in regular street clothes, which told Crow that he was alone and unofficial.
    “I gave Wallace your offer about turning himself in,” Crow continued. “But he has a slight problem.”
    “What’s that?”
    “He’s innocent.”
    “He tell you that?”
    “He did. And I believe him.”
    A third sigh. “How did he explain the blood?”
    “He doesn’t know how it got there.”
    “Then where’s Alicia and the boys?”
    “He doesn’t know that either.”
    Marvin snorted. “Listen to yourself. How could he not know where his wife and kids are?”
    “It’s complicated.”
    “It’s not. Where is he?”
    “He’s gone looking for them.”
    “Bullshit. Where is he?”
    Crow shrugged. “I don’t know. I told him not to tell me.”
    Marvin ground his teeth in frustration. “Dammit, Crow. I could have you arrested.”
    Crow narrowed his eyes and held out his