Mack knew the address, although he'd only been there once before when helping his daughter, Susie, and her then new husband Jerry move in. That had been three years ago, and even though he hadn't been back since, Mack had the location burned into his memory for a couple of reasons, none of which were why he was there now.
Susie had called the night before. She'd been crying. All he remembered hearing her say was that Jerry had beaten her. It was all he'd needed to hear. He'd driven all night, a loaded shotgun rattling ominously behind the bench seat, and now by early morning light he pulled his battered Ford pickup to a halt at the curb and shut off the struggling engine. It was an old farm truck and it wasn't used to highway driving. He wasn't sure if it would make it back, but he'd have to deal with that when and if the time came. All he knew was, his daughter needed him and that truck was the only reliable vehicle he had beside his John Deere, and while that tractor might have been up to the journey at top speed he'd be two days on the road. When he heard his daughter crying on the phone he knew time was of the essence, in case the bastard decided to do it again. If he could have climbed through the fucking phone wire and been there instantly he would have done it.
On the way he'd wondered about what might have happened, and why. No father ever likes the man his daughter chooses to marry. Jerry wouldn't have been his first pick for his only daughter, but it wasn't his choice to make. He'd let her know his misgivings about the boy and then accepted her decision. She was the one that had to live with him, not Mack.
But, he'd never figured Jerry for an abuser. He didn't think he had the balls, for one thing. Jerry just didn't seem the type, but God knows what makes men do the things they do these days.
Or women, for that matter.
In all probability, Susie had something to do with whatever happened. She was a strong-willed girl -- like her mother had been until cancer robbed her of her strength, her vitality, her dignity, and then her life -- and most men can't handle strong-willed women. Still, no matter what she might have done or said there was never a good reason for a man to hit a woman. If it had ever come to that between Mack and Corry, Mack knew he'd have just walked away.
He'd come close a few times. Corry had had a way of getting under Mack's skin when she wanted to, and she didn't want to often but when that itch to start a fight became more than she could resist she knew just what to say and how to say it to get him riled up. He knew Susie had inherited at least that much from her mother. Both women had the ability to drive men to the line that separates reason from madness.
Jerry, evidently, had crossed the line. Now, he'd have Mack to deal with.
The unassuming colonial on a quiet suburban street was dark and still as Mack hit the front porch. The only car in the driveway was the little two-door import he had bought Susie when she graduated high school. He had hoped it would take her to college, but instead she married Jerry and became a suburban house-frau. The last Mack knew Jerry drove a Jeep. The sedan was the only car around.
Just as well. If he saw Jerry he'd beat the crap out of him, maybe use that shotgun on him if the little bastard was even the least bit recalcitrant, and then he'd have to get himself out of jail before he could do his daughter any good. This way he could just scoop her up and take her home and then deal with her husband when the time came.
The door opened before he knocked. Susie stood on the other side and walked away when she saw the look on her father's face. Mack let himself in.
"You okay?" he asked, closing and locking the door behind himself.
Susie walked away from him, toward the kitchen.
"I'm okay," she said. "Coffee's on."
He followed her, and studied the way she walked. Fatigued, but not limping. That was good. Her bathrobe didn't reveal much skin, so he couldn't see any bruises, and her face had been obscured by a screen door when he came in so he couldn't have seen what damage there was and wouldn't until she stopped walking and turned around.
Susie grabbed two mugs and poured coffee, and handed one to her father.
Her face was fine. Not a mark on it. Maybe her idea of a beating was different from his.
Mack took the mug. "Where is he?"
Susie shrugged. "Who knows," she said. "Truth is I tossed the bastard out almost a month ago."
And he'd come back and done whatever because, why? Because she'd been shacked up with somebody else? Once Susie had figured out -- at the ripe old age of fourteen, no less -- what her body could do she couldn't stand to go more than a few days without using it to its full potential. Being without a husband, even a useless one like Jerry, to warm her sheets at night would have driven her to the first pick-up bar she could find. Still, infidelity wasn't an excuse for physical violence, but Mack felt his own anger begin to subside the more he realized Jerry might have been pushed over the line instead of just crossing it.
"D'you call the cops?"
Susie smiled, and then laughed, and something in her eyes told Mack she had something up her pink chenille sleeve.
"Actually," she said, "I haven't seen him in weeks."
Mack's neck tensed up. He stared at her, barely breathing. "You lied?" he said, not so much a question as a confirmation.
Susie met his stare. "I wanted to see you," she said. "And I knew if I told you why you'd never come."
The part of his brain that did most of the thinking told him to put the mug down, turn around, and nurse that old pickup back home before she said another word. Unfortunately, that wasn't the dominant cerebral patch at the moment, so he sipped the coffee and waited for her to explain herself.
"He never laid a hand on me," she said, and turned her face to see out the window at the sunrise over the back yard. "Maybe if he had he'd still be here," she added, and then looked back at Mack. "You were right about him," she said. "Right from the start. He was never gonna be what I wanted in a man."
As far as Mack could tell, there were only two things his daughter ever wanted from a man: a paycheck and a stiff dick. Either Jerry had joined the chronically unemployed or he'd lost his interest in her, and Mack couldn't see the latter happening because any man would have to be dead not to get aroused looking at Susie.
Susie sipped her coffee and turned completely to look out the window. "They say girls look for father figures when they go hunting for a husband," she said. "A substitute, you know? I always thought it was bullshit, but after three years with Jerry I became convinced how right it was. And, you know what?"
She turned to lock eyes with him again.
"No man will ever be able to take your place," she said.
He should have been flattered. He was too pissed off to accept a compliment.
"I drove like a wildman," he said, "all night." He thought it best not to mention the shotgun. "I could'a killed m'self and God knows how many other people trying to get here because you said he'd beaten you."
