Trinity

by Kristin Dearborn

  “Rich! For God’s sake get out of here,” said Spence, sliding his chair back and standing up. “You’re officially disturbin’ the peace.”

  “I forgot I was under the eyes of Otero County’s finest. I’ll be on my way, Deputy.”

  They left and Kate watched them stop out on the sidewalk, looking left and then right. Looking for Val?

  “Don’t blame you one bit for leaving. Bad kin’s like a bad stain.”

  She chuckled. “I can’t wait to go again.”

  “What’s up with that guy?” Spence lowered his voice and nodded towards the man and his coffee.

  “Maria said he was listening.”

  Kate glanced at him, over Spence’s shoulder. He stared off into space, dreamlike. But not. More focused than a dream. Like a robot. What a weirdo. He turned to her, his head moving like it was mounted on clockwork, and they made eye contact. Kate looked at her place mat. He must be high on something.

  “He’s not bothering me, he’s fine.” Something about him was the opposite of fine.

  “How is Val? Really.”

  She paused before she answered. She hated the way his eyebrows dropped with pity. Sympathy, probably, but it felt like pity.

  “He’s a little spacey. Haunted, almost. I think his mom’s bothering him more than he’s telling me.”

  Spence nodded. “He was gone for a long time.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  Spence smiled, pointing out the window as Val’s pickup pulled up. “Is that him? Still with the same old pickup?”

  “Yup. He thinks I’m at the bar.” She got up, went to the door and stepped out from the air conditioning into the sun. The pavement was dry now, and the sky gave no indication of the afternoon showers they’d had.

  For a split second she was certain Rich would be lurking behind the door, waiting to take her, but the street was quiet until she called Val’s name.

  He looked to her as he slammed the truck door. His eyes looked red, high or crying, please let him have been crying. He crossed the street on a diagonal. Kate hoped Spence wouldn’t bust him for jaywalking.

  “How is she?” Kate asked, feeling obligated. The real subtext of the question was “how soon can we leave?”

  “Eh,” said Val. “Not well. She’s not really with it.”

  “Is she in pain?”

  “I don’t think so. They have her pretty well doped up.”

  “I have a table inside. Spence has been sitting with me.”

  “No shit! Good ole Spence.”

  He followed her into the restaurant, taking off his hat like the gentleman he wasn’t, and shook Spence’s hand. The strange man looked up, and his gaze captured Val’s attention.

  “Hang on a minute.” Val went to the man’s table. “Do I know you?”

  “I do not believe so.”

  He sure didn’t talk like a frat boy.

  “You sure? You look awful familiar.”

  “I am certain that I do not know you.”

  “Good to know.”

  Val came back and took the seat across from Kate, where Rich had been sitting.

  “You want to get dinner?” he asked.

  “I’m not really hungry. You can if you want to.”

  “Spence? Hungry?”

  “I’m on duty.”

  “And you can’t eat?”

  “I’ll get something later.”

  “Well then what are we doing here? Let’s go over to Woodstones.”

  “Maybe I do want something. A small steak, maybe?” She didn’t want him drinking. He was being so strange and unpredictable, moods and bleeding. Some of it could be attributed to the stresses he’d been though lately. But not all of it.

  “Okay then.” Val gave her a funny look, then picked up the menu. She half smiled at him. He and Spence made small talk. When the food came her steak looked like a piece of a car tire with “authentic looking” flame marks. She wasn’t hungry, she picked at her dinner.

  Spence’s radio went off, a crackling domestic disturbance in the trailer park at the south end of town.

  “Sorry guys,” Spence said, “I’ll catch you later, though. Val, we should get a beer later this week.”

  “Sounds good,” Val said.

  “Oh hey—before I go. I heard something about a mountain lion out your way…most likely rabid. Watch yourselves.”

  “Ten-four.” Val fired off a mock salute.

  Kate gave her steak another hearty poke with her fork.

  They sat, looking at one another. “I called Felix. Hoped maybe he could come out tonight, do something. I left him a message with your cell number. Let me know if he calls, okay?”

  Kate looked at her phone. It was on silent, and she made sure she hadn’t missed any calls.

  “Shall we leave?” Val asked.

  “If you want to,” she said, clearly meaning yes. She caught frat boy from the corner of her eye, watching. He didn’t even have the tact to drop eye contact when Kate met his gaze. She didn’t look away, at first, but finally she dropped her eyes.

  “You lost,” Val said, not even trying to be discreet or keep his voice down. Maybe frat boy’s bad manners weren’t that astounding.

  “He must be on something.”

  “Or a jackass.”

  “He’s following us. Look.”

  And he was, wandering out of the restaurant, looking lost and inspired, all at the same time.

  “Well, he can’t get in the truck with us. No zombies allowed.”

  11

  “Val!” A voice from across the street, from the parking lot of Woodstone’s saloon.

  Val’s face lit up when he saw the man who’d called his name. He was tall and slender, almost pretty, with dark features that weren’t quite Latino. Maybe they’d wave, and then they could head home, she thought.

  Nope. She followed Val across the street. Kate racked her brain to try and remember who this guy was, no one she knew from school. Val let her catch up to him, then he took her by the shoulders and thrust her at the pretty-looking man.

  “Kate, this is Felix. Felix, this is Kate.”

  Oh!

  She should have known, and as Felix kissed her cheek, she blushed with embarrassment. Of course. Who else would have gotten Val to perk up like that? Maybe it was what he needed. They’d go out, have a few drinks, she could drive his drunk ass home if need be. It would be fun.

  “You’re as beautiful as he said you were.”

  She smiled as she met his chocolate brown eyes, but the smile died on her lips. Meeting his gaze, there was something about him she didn’t quite like, something that made her wary. She didn’t think she liked Felix very much.

  He and Val embraced in a quick man-hug.

  She was being stupid.

  “How’s life on the outside treating you?” Felix asked.

  “It’s been interesting,” Val said, choosing his words.

  “And your mother?”

  Val let out a long breath. “Let’s get some brews and head out on the patio.”

  They stepped through the wooden saloon doors with carved-antler handles into air conditioned air, darkness, and twangy pop country.

  “Is this that fucking song,” he shouted to be heard over the music and the din, “about checking for ticks being sexy?”

  She shoved him playfully, and he slung a long arm across her shoulders. For the first time, he looked so happy. He and Felix ordered PBRs in cans, and she got a red microbrew they had on tap. As Felix and Val babbled about beer, Kate scanned the place for familiar faces. She didn’t want to see any of them. The bartender was in a class a few years ahead of Val—she couldn’t remember his name—and they chatted for a few minutes.

  The beers came and they went outside to the fenced-in patio. Four of the ten picnic tables were taken, no one of any interest. She let out her breath in relief. Out here the Eagles were playing, which were slightly more up Val’s alley. Kate sat facing the entrance to the bar.

  “I’m s
orry to be a jackass,” said Felix. “But I have a thing. I really can’t sit with my back to the door. It freaks me out.”

  “He’s been that way ever since I met him,” Val echoed.

  “Not that I would mind sitting over there with you. But I think your man here would punch me in the mouth if I did.”

  “I would,” Val said agreeably, sitting with his back to the door. He held up his beer. “A couple more of these, and I’ll punch anyone!”

  Kate got up and moved around to Val’s side of the table, and Felix took her spot.

  “Shit’s been crazy,” Val said.

  “It’s only been a day. What happened?”

  Kate knew Felix could see the look she gave Val, the eye daggers telling him to shut the hell up. But he told. He told everything. She kept watch while Val talked, making sure no one could hear them. What was he thinking? Felix looked sympathetic, appropriately surprised in the right places. She wanted to go home.

  “Another beer?” Val asked her.

  “No, thanks. I’ll drive you home.”

  “Wonderful.” He kissed her on the forehead, a wet, beer-smelling kiss, and made his way inside.

  “How are you?” Felix asked Kate.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, this has all got to be really tough on you.”

  “I’m fine. I want to get out of here. I don’t like Lott.”

  “I’m renting a place outside of town,” Felix said. “I think it’s a cute little town.”

  “You didn’t grow up here.” She scanned the patio. “I can name all but three of the people out here.”

  Felix laughed. It seemed forced. “I get your point.”

  “I like Santa Fe. I like feeling lost there.”

  “But you’re not leaving until Val’s got some closure with his mother, right?”

  “Right,” she said, taking careful measure to keep the resentment out of her voice. Felix looked at her like he could tell she didn’t care one whit whether Caroline Slade lived or died. Well why should she? The woman had always been a bitch to her.

  “Be strong,” Felix said. “Val needs you.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

  * * *

  About an hour later, they left Woodstone’s. Felix said goodnight and headed off in the opposite direction. Val insisted he was fine to drive, and he sounded fine, so she let him. He blasted the music, as usual, until she turned it down.

  Headlights flashed behind them in the dusk.

  “What did you think of Felix?”

  She didn’t tell him she thought there was something off about him. Something about the protective way he watched Val.

  “Seems nice,” she said.

  “He was my other half for five years.”

  “That sounds kind of gay.”

  “Eh, only once or twice.”

  She looked at him.

  “I’m kidding. Ha ha, funny, joke?”

  Sometimes she couldn’t tell. They rode along for a while, turning off the pavement and onto dirt roads.

  “Who do you think killed TJ?” she asked.

  “I am trying my damndest not to think about it. We shouldn’t have touched him, but now that we did, all we can hope is no one finds him.”

  “I should do something to make it look like he’s out of town. Call Rich, or something.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s a sure-fire way to get it tracked back to us.”

  “I can do it so he won’t catch me.” One of those call scramblers, maybe?

  “He’s stupid, but he’s got police training, some of which must have stuck.” Val was right, of course. Rich had a terrifying clever streak. You couldn’t call it smart, it was more like whatever force allows a terrier to relentlessly ferret rats from their holes. Tenacity, perhaps? Deep instinct?

  “I think we need to leave it. The less we do the better. Rich will be looking for any reason to connect this to me,” Val said, gazing out into the darkening evening. With each day, TJ’s trail would grow colder, and they would be safer. Once they left Lott and melted into Santa Fe, it would all be better.

  She thought of TJ as Val drove. Stupid, soft TJ, who in his awkward way, wanted to be loved.

  A bump in the road brought her back to the present. The sky was a rich indigo, delicious and purple. Val turned down his driveway; the yellow headlights of the truck splashed the front of the trailer. Out on the road, a car passed the trailer. They didn’t get a lot of traffic out here, particularly not at night. Probably some kids, looking for a place to park, or drink. Unless it was the frat-boy. The thought chilled her. He didn’t look well enough to drive.

  Kate stretched her legs as she got out; Val came around and took her hand. They paused a moment, and looked up at the sky. They let their eyes adjust to the dark. Black shadows became things: bushes, Val’s mom’s old Oldsmobile, gray and silent off to the side.

  Something moved over by the Oldsmobile, a rustling, scraping sound of feet on loose stone.

  TJ’s killer? The rabid puma? Something else?

  “We should go inside,” Kate said, feeling very small and very quiet.

  “It’s nothing. Coyote or something.”

  “It’s too loud for coyotes. And they would never come this close to us. Let’s go in.” She thought of the pistol in Val’s drawer. Of Rich’s shotgun, what had Val done with that?

  “Okay,” he said, turning his face to the sky. He never bothered to lock the door, his mother never had, so Kate went in and found herself alone in the dark living room, waiting for him. Come on, come on, come on...she willed him in. There was another sound from out there, and she opened the door again, peering out into the yard. She wanted to call his name, but didn’t want to call attention to herself. Feet on loose stone again—not feet but shoes. Why had he left the steps? She slipped back into the living room, and without turning on the lights, she went to his bedroom, went to the top drawer, rooted through folded boxers and paired socks—his mother’s neatness, not his own—until she found the hard, cloth-wrapped lump. It was heavier in her hand than she remembered, the entire time she’d been in Santa Fe she hadn’t seen a gun, hadn’t seen anyone beat up, or threatened, or anything like that. Once she’d seen a drunk motorist shouting at a cop as she drove by.

  This place was violence, the real Wild West.

  She unwrapped the gun and its matte surface reflected no light. She ejected the clip and saw it was fully loaded. Leave it to Val to leave his gun loaded for six years in his underwear drawer.

  It felt strange and alien in her hand; she hadn’t used one for years. Like she’d seen in movies, she kept it pointed at the floor.

  If there was something out there, it probably was gone by now. She hadn’t been quick about getting the pistol.

  She moved through the dark hallway, through the living room, and stepped out onto the wooden steps. They creaked under her weight. A slight breeze rustled the leaves on some of the scrub nearby, sang through the tall grass.

  “Val.” It was barely a whisper, lost in the breeze. The saliva was gone from her mouth, replaced with the sour, Chinese-soup taste of adrenaline. She said it again, louder. “Val.” This one came out as a croak. Nothing. She stepped to the next step, feeling the wood flex beneath her. It would break and she would shoot herself in the foot, and then the killer would know where she was and finish her off.

  She stepped down to the gravel of the driveway, scanning left and then right. She willed spit to her dry mouth, and called his name. Nothing happened, but there was a sound of rattling stones from somewhere. Was he (it?) killing Val right now?

  Very aware that her back was exposed, she moved around the dark bulk of the truck. She raised the gun, repeating in her head the mantra, don’t shoot Val, don’t shoot Val.

  Something tan moved in her peripheral vision. Without thinking, completely adverse to her mantra, she raised the gun and squeezed the trigger, the flash from the muzzle blinded her, and the recoil sent her arm wild, s
napping at her wrist. The brass cartridge landed hot on her shoulder, and she brushed it off, afraid of getting burned. The sound was impossible, consuming everything, and leaving a ringing in her ears. Her heart pounded as she got her bearings in the darkness.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Val shouted from the direction of the Oldsmobile. It sounded like he was calling from the end of a tunnel.

  He came out of the darkness towards her, a floating face and arms, his black shirt melting into the darkness behind him.

  “I thought...” her own voice felt padded and far away, the ringing making conversation almost impossible.

  Reaching over, he plucked the gun from her hand, fingered the safety, and popped the clip out.

  “There’s someone out here,” Val said.

  The relief she’d felt at finding Val, and the shame from firing blindly into nothing were replaced by the same sick fear that there was someone here.

  “I think I scared him off, I made it around behind him, when he saw me he headed for the hills. It was that schizoid frat kid from the restaurant. Since you decided to shoot up the place, I bet he won’t be back.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he follow us?”

  “I don’t know. He’s gone now, I guess.”

  “Do you think he killed TJ?” An even worse thought overtook her. “Do you think he saw what we did to TJ? Is he trying to blackmail us?”

  Val hissed at her to be quiet. “Stop talking about it. If he is still here, we don’t want him hearing anything. Let’s go in the house.”

  Kate rubbed at her wrist, jarred from the pistol’s recoil.

  “Maybe tomorrow we can do some target practice. You’re going to kill someone with this thing.”

  Maybe tomorrow we should pack up and go to Santa Fe, Kate thought, where I won’t have to kill anyone with this thing.

  12

  Maria walked across the parking lot, holding the small bag of groceries. They made the parking lot too big, back from when they thought the town would boom, and she hated crossing it. She didn’t drive, and didn’t want to ask Rich to take her out for more rice. She should have thought of it on her own.