These Unquiet Bones by Dean Harrison Page A

twitched.
    “And I don’t care what your daddy says. After what you did to that Weber girl, it should’ve happened a long time ago.” She returned her attention to the Lifetime movie on TV. “Bastards. You men are all a bunch of bastards.”
    He would’ve countered that the rape of Marianne Weber was not his fault as he had numerous times before, but he knew it would be pointless. Kelley never believed a word he told her.
    Taking a deep breath, Layne bottled his rage and exited the house, slamming the front door in his wake.
    When he pulled into Amy’s driveway he climbed out of the Pathfinder and spotted her sitting on the unlit porch petting a pumpkin like it was a plump tabby cat.
    He approached from the driveway, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, as a brisk autumn wind wafted through the thick cluster of azalea, magnolia and crepe myrtle. “Enjoying the night?” he asked.
    Amy ran a hand through her hair and nodded. “It’s nice out here.”
    Listening to the choir of crickets and cicadas humming in the black-green shadows, Layne agreed. “It’s spooky.”
    He saw the troubled look on Amy’s face and stepped closer. “Everything all right?”
    Lips compressed, Amy stood and folded her arms across her chest. She peered into the wooded darkness. “Just been a rough day.”
    Layne climbed the steps and placed a hand on her arm. Amy flinched at his touch. “Is it about last night?” he asked.
    “Don’t want to talk about it now. Let’s go inside. Pizza should be here soon.” She turned for the door. “Want to watch Halloween ?”
    Layne shrugged, following her into the living room. “Cool with me.”
    Her father was sitting in his usual spot, cigarette in one hand and beer in the other. Layne eyed him cautiously.
    “Want a Mountain Dew or something?” Amy asked, moving into the kitchen.
    “Sure.” Layne sat down at the far end of the couch near an old wicker rocking chair. The TV was tuned to TNT. Law & Order was on. He glanced back at Amy’s father.
    A long, oily mane with split ends framed the man’s hairy caveman face. He wore a black, sleeveless World Wide Wrestling T-shirt that showed off his numerous tattoos, and had a look in his eyes that spat out nails.
    Layne looked away, wondering if he had anything to do with why Amy was so upset.
    Wish the creep would go away.
    Amy handed him his drink. “You going to watch the movie with us, Dad?”
    Hank took a drag from his cigarette. “Maybe a little bit.”
    Layne sipped his Mountain Dew, hoping to wash down his rising anger.
    Calm down, man. You’ll get your chance to be alone with her, and then you can pour your heart out. Be patient.
    Amy popped in the DVD when the pizza arrived. Paying the delivery boy, she took dinner into the kitchen. Layne followed.
    “Want a couple of slices, Dad?” Amy reached into the cupboard for plates.
    “Yeah, thanks, peanut.”
    Layne looked closely at Amy’s face. “What happened to your cheek? There’s a bruise.”
    “Courtesy of Billy Brown,” she muttered, plopping two large pizza slices onto a plate. “And my Dad doesn’t know anything about what happened last night, so keep quiet about it.”
    He wasn’t sure he believed her about the bruise. He didn’t remember seeing it last night. But for her sake, he let it go.
    Back in the living room, Amy handed her father his plate and took her seat at on the couch. Layne did the same.
    The telephone on the side table rang. Amy answered it. “Hello? Hey, Uncle Joe, whaddya know? Thanks, it was a good birthday. Yeah, he’s here. Hold on.”
    She handed the phone to her father. Layne munched on his pizza and watched the big man.
    “S’up?” Hank said. “Yeah, give me a second.” He rose from his chair and staggered from the room. Layne felt relieved.
    Hope he stays gone.
    Sitting close to Amy as the movie started, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the mix CD. “I made this for you.”
    Amy smiled and took the CD. “You keep giving me