The Incident Under the Overpass

by Anne McClane

  “No, no, he was over on your side. No problem.”

  Well, that’s one helluva relief, Lacey thought. “Hey, Mr. Max,” she said, “I saw some other car pass down here pretty early, driving real slow. Did you happen to see that one?”

  “Don’t think so. What did it look like?”

  “Black Lincoln sedan or something—kinda looked like a cop car, but dark colored.”

  “Uh-uh. Didn’t see it.”

  Just my luck, she thought. The one thing I need that nosy bastard to see, he misses.

  “Oh. Okay. Was just afraid it might have been somebody up to no good, casing the neighborhood. If you didn’t see it, though, I’m not worried. Must have just been a random passer-through.”

  “I’ll let you know if I see anything like that.”

  I know you will, Lacey thought. She called Ambrose back to her side. “Thanks, Mr. Max,” she said. “You gonna take Gabi to the dog park later?”

  “Nah. It’s supposed to rain today.”

  “Oh, okay. Guess I better get Ambrose walked before it hits.”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay. Have a good day, Mr. Max.”

  “You too, little Lacey.”

  She hastened her pace as she approached Orleans, eager to get out of Kravitz’s line of sight. She took one note of solace from her conversation—it was unlikely that the suspicious car had been there all night. If the car had been parked in the vicinity for any length of time, Kravitz would have seen it from his wraparound porch.

  She made the walk a quick one. On their return, a gust of wind came up like a scout from the coming storm. The crape myrtles shivered in the gale. Lacey and Ambrose were pelted with flower petals. The wind blew out the cobwebs of paranoia about Nathan and suspicious cars.

  “This is insane,” she said aloud. Ambrose looked up at her. “Don’t you think?” she said in response to his gaze.

  In reply, he broke free of her grip on the leash and ran the rest of the way home, bounding up the steps and waiting for her at the front door.

  “Ambrose!” she shouted. She ran to catch up with him. “What was that about?” she asked the giant dog as she put her key in the lock. Ambrose nosed in the door ahead of her and stood by the side table, where she’d left her phone.

  Lacey looked at the phone and saw a two-word text from Angele: Call me.

  “Thanks, Bro,” she said to the dog. She gave him a double-handed scratch behind the ears before calling Angele.

  She knew Angele’s opportunity to speak might be short. She rarely wasted her time with hellos, but this time, Angele picked up the other line by just saying: “You!”

  “Good morning to you too,” Lacey replied.

  “Listen, first things first,” she said. “You’ve got a job, if you want it. Production accountant, Syfy movie in California—San Luis Obispo—you’ll be working with a friend of mine, Lynn, who’s pregnant and wants a backup. She’ll budget in a salary for you. This is one of those opportunities you’d be a fool to pass up. I hope you’re not going to be a fool.”

  “I’m in,” Lacey answered without hesitation.

  “Wow. That’s it?” Angele said. “No whining about what you’re going to do about the oleander plant in the side yard that needs attention?”

  “It’s not an oleander, it’s a Japanese elm, and I’ll figure it out,” Lacey answered. “I’ve got to do something, Lee. And getting out of town sounds kinda good right now.”

  “Well, that was easier than I thought,” she said. “Expect a call from Lynn in the next few days. Her name is Lynn Batzer. Next thing. What the fuck happened last night?”

  “Too much to say over the phone.”

  “Give me the Navajo code version,” Angele said.

  “Oh Jesus,” Lacey said. “Okay. Somebody went after Nathan. I freaked out, got one of Jimmy’s bodyguards to help me find him. We did, and now somebody’s dead. I went into X-Men mode, but not for the dead person.”

  “Somebody’s dead?”

  “Yeah. Nathan thinks someone from his wife’s family is out for him. I guess it was a hired goon?”

  “Hired goon?” Angele’s tone was biting.

  “It’s a fitting description,” Lacey said. “Or, at least it was. Jimmy’s bodyguard,

  Helga—”

  “I know her,” Angele said.

  “Okay. Helga got hurt, and I went into my fugue state. The full-body fugue state.”

  “You went naked again?”

  “Yeah. If you keep interrupting, I won’t be able to finish.” Lacey paused, and when Angele didn’t say anything more, she continued. “However it turned out, Helga got better. I think she lost a lot of blood, though. I have to make sure she’s okay.”

  “I’m going to interrupt if you don’t stay on track,” Angele said.

  “Fine. Me, Nathan, and Helga had to wait around to talk to the cops. It was several hours, at least. That’s when I got the text from you. Jimmy came by with Trevor after their show, Trevor kissed me on the top of the head and left. I looked like hell, too—all bloodied, and my eye was hurt. Jimmy stayed with me while I had to wait for the cops. He and Nathan sort of bowed up against each other. That’s the end of that part.”

  “Move to the next part,” Angele said. “I don’t have much time.”

  “Right,” Lacey said. “Well, once we were all clear, Nathan called me while I was driving home. He invited himself over. He left about two hours ago.”

  Silence.

  “That’s it?” Angele finally replied. “Dinner Jacket just leaves your house, and that part gets two sentences?”

  “I think it was three.”

  “No you don’t. I’ll need more than that. Was it all talk, or was there action?”

  “There was action.”

  “Good action?”

  “Yes. Phenomenal,” Lacey said. “I’m going to have a hard time putting it behind me. Putting him behind me.”

  Angele laughed. Her abrasive, staccato laugh. “You might want to be careful how you word that,” she said.

  “Doesn’t matter, since you’re the only other soul on Earth I’m ever gonna tell about it.”

  Angele switched gears. “Is there going to be any trouble with you leaving the state to take the job with Lynn?”

  “Shit, I don’t know,” Lacey said. “I don’t think so. I hope not. I think someone followed Nathan here last night. I’d feel a whole lot safer out of town.”

  “That’s another important detail you left out,” Angele said.

  “Yeah, so I saw this car with no license plate going down Florida early this morning. There was a guy who got away last night, the driver.”

  “Well that sucks,” Angele said.

  “Understatement,” Lacey said. “Yes, I need to talk to the detective about that guy anyway. I’ll check about leaving town and any hearings and stuff when I talk to him.”

  “Good,” Angele said. “You know, I didn’t get any details about the timing. Lynn might need you this week; it could be next month. You’ll have to be ready to get your ass out there whenever she tells you.”

  “Okay.” Lacey felt the conversation was about to come to a close.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Angele asked.

  Lacey laughed. “What would you do if I told you no?”

  “Ignore it,” Angele said. “You’ve already buried a husband. Mutant powers, police involvement, and a little roll in the hay with a doomed lover are just the next chapter. You can handle it.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Bye,” Angele said, and disconnected before Lacey could say anything else.

  Lacey plopped down on the couch and dropped her phone on a pillow. The prospect of new employment succeeded in staking some limited real estate in her head. She hoped it could overtake Nathan Quirk, who occupied every other thought.

  She knew she didn’t love him. She hadn’t known him long enough. She wasn’t sure what she felt for him. Attracted, crushed? In love? But she
had no right to feel those things for another woman’s husband.

  And everything he was going through—it was beyond toxic. Last night had to be a bad side-effect from that. Last night had been a big, glorious, overwhelming mistake.

  Make a list, she told herself. Make a plan of what you need to do to leave town. Make yourself useful. You have no power, no say in whatever becomes of Nathan. Sort of like Fox. They’re both gone. Fox is dead. Nathan should be dead to you.

  She wished she could believe that.

  She rose from the sofa to grab her laptop. She’d need to know what kind of clothes to pack for San Luis Obispo.

  When Lacey heard the knock on her door Sunday evening, her heart jumped into her throat. Even though she knew it had to be her brother—they had spoken earlier and she was expecting him—a big part of her longed to see Nathan back at her door instead.

  Jimmy shook to dry himself on the front porch. The promised rain did not disappoint; it had been coming down all day.

  The Avengers was on TV, and Jimmy made a beeline for the recliner. “Is watching this like homework, now?” he asked.

  “Wait,” Lacey said, ignoring his remark. She draped a towel over the recliner. “Here you go. How is Helga doing?” she asked.

  “She’s fine. She left the hospital before I did,” Jimmy answered. “Do you remember Rocky Anselmo?”

  “Sort of,” Lacey said. Jimmy could not go anywhere in New Orleans without running into a friend—old, new, or otherwise.

  “He works as a cardiac nurse there,” he said. “I was catching up with him on his break, and Helga got released. You know the ER doc thought the wound on her leg was months old?”

  Jimmy looked at her sideways and flexed himself like the Incredible Hulk.

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you think all this is funny. So Helga—Amy—is okay?”

  “Like I’ve been telling you, Budge, that woman is beyond tough. She’s fine.”

  Ambrose settled next to the recliner. When it came to rock-star adoration, the dog was worse than Jimmy’s teenage groupies. Jimmy stretched his long arm over the arm of the chair and stroked the dog’s head.

  “What are you going to do with him when you go to SLO?” Jimmy asked.

  “SLO?” Lacey asked.

  “San Luis Obispo, Budge.”

  “Oh. I’ll catch on,” she said. “He’s coming with. I’ll need to find a place to rent that’ll accept him.”

  “He could stay with me in Mar Vista if you have any problems,” Jimmy said. “I’m going to be home most of July, and I know a good dog-sitter if your stint goes longer.”

  “Who’s the dog-sitter?” she asked, her tone leading.

  “A neighbor,” Jimmy answered, not picking up the subtler question. “Lives right across the street. Dude’s always on me about how much business he’s missing out on since I don’t have a dog.”

  “Oh,” Lacey said. She tried the direct route instead. “So who are you dating that you told Mom about?”

  “Ha!” Jimmy said, his eyes still trained on the television. “I should have figured Irene would blab.”

  “You know it,” Lacey said, also keeping her eyes forward on the TV. “But I would have been mad if she hadn’t. This is important stuff.”

  “You’re such a girl.”

  “And better looking than you too,” Lacey said, the words coming to her like muscle memory.

  “I should hope so.”

  “So?” Lacey asked when their decades-old taunt had run its course.

  Jimmy got out of the recliner and headed toward the bar. Ambrose got up and left the room. “You want anything?” he asked.

  “No thanks. Knock yourself out.”

  Jimmy poured himself a scotch. His back to Lacey, he finally spoke. “She’s from Baton Rouge,” he said. “She went to LSU.”

  “And you met her out there?” she asked.

  “Yeah. She’s really smart, Budge, she runs a development department at Fox,” he said, all sarcasm erased from his tone. “But she still acts like she’s from here.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She hasn’t gone all California.”

  Lacey wasn’t sure what he meant, but thought she might find out soon enough.

  “What’s her name?” she asked.

  “Monica.”

  “And how long have y’all been going out?”

  Jimmy didn’t respond. “Why do women always ask that?” he finally asked.

  “Because it’s important,” Lacey said. “Most women have to deal with the relationship half-life. If the relationship ends after a couple of months, no biggie, it’ll be out of your system in a month—six weeks if you’re extra sensitive. Years are a weightier matter.”

  “Women are insane,” Jimmy said. He crossed the room, drink in hand. He perused the stack of books on the side table by the recliner.

  “No, we’re just wired differently,” Lacey said.

  Jimmy pulled a book from the stack and returned to the recliner. “So, does that relationship logic still pertain to Fox, even though he’s dead?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Lacey said. “I’ve got at least another three years of half-life purgatory before I can truly say I’ve moved on.”

  Jimmy considered. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hard on your friend the doucheboat, then.”

  Lacey laughed at the word. “Who?”

  “Your friend from last night.”

  “Nathan?”

  “Yeah. Doucheboat.”

  Lacey couldn’t keep herself from giggling. “Okay, this being completely none of your business, but if you’re reconsidering your opinion of Nathan, why?”

  “Because I would assume new relationships can accelerate the ‘half-life,’” Jimmy said. “And you’re a fine one to be telling me it’s none of my business.”

  Lacey finally turned away from the TV and faced her brother.

  “Uh-uh,” she said. “You told Ma about Monica, that makes it my business. You just happened to meet new friend Nathan by circumstance. I wouldn’t have told anybody about him yet.”

  He turned toward Lacey. “Yet?” he asked.

  “I mean ever,” she said.

  She did not think Nathan’s marital status would bother her brother as much as it did her. But something in his look told her otherwise. She wanted to drop the subject, quickly.

  “I’m still kind of shocked Ma found out about your girl before I did,” Lacey said. “It must be serious.”

  “Eh, I’m still trying to figure it out,” Jimmy said, his eyes back on the TV.

  “So how long’s it been?” Lacey asked.

  “We’ve known each other a while now,” Jimmy said, “but I guess we started going out about a year ago.”

  “Jesus, I suck,” Lacey said. Pay attention. The words stung. How much had she missed, cocooned in her own grief, her own problems?

  “You’ve had a lot going on,” Jimmy said.

  “Other than a dead husband, and up until about two weeks ago, not really.”

  Jimmy stood up and gripped the back of the recliner, stretching his limbs.

  “You’ll get to meet her before Irene does, if that makes you feel any better,” he said.

  “It definitely does. When?” Lacey asked. She watched her brother. He reminded her of a three-toed sloth.

  “We’ll come up and see you at some point. SLO is awesome.”

  They stopped talking to watch Bruce Banner wake up naked in a pile of rubble. Jimmy nodded at the TV, then at Lacey.

  “I’m not the Incredible Hulk!” she said, suddenly sounding like an eight-year-old.

  Inspiration struck. “Why can’t I be Wolverine?” Lacey asked, her voice returning to her thirties.

  Jimmy sipped his scotch. “Huh. I guess you do have the healing thing going on.”

  “That’s right! And I can be tough,” she said. She stood up and began to stretch too.

  Jimmy laughed.

  “Pretty sure I’ve never heard Wolverine compl
ain about the relationship half-life,” he said. “Plus you look more like Jean Grey than Wolverine.”

  “Wait,” Lacey said. She was into it now. “Wolverine might never have specifically complained about the relationship half-life, but pretty much his entire life has been ruined by his feelings for women. And I’d rather be Dark Phoenix.”

  “You can’t go by the movies for Wolverine,” Jimmy said, dismissing her argument.

  “Hell, they even talk about relationships in Highlander,” Lacey said. “Scottish-Spaniard-Egyptian Sean Connery tells MacLeod not to fall for a mortal, it’ll break his heart.”

  “You’re thinking about this way too much, Budge,” Jimmy said. “I still think the Hulk is the best.” Inspiration struck Jimmy, too. “She-Hulk!”

  Lacey huffed. “You’re a chump.”

  Jimmy angled his three-toed arms out in front of him. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

  Lacey looked down at her feet. “You know, I told you everything I know so far about this thing last night. But I still feel weird about how it all went down. I wasn’t expecting to have another incident again before I told you.”

  Jimmy had a half smile on his face. “You know, Lace, that’s how life goes sometimes. When the things that are supposed to happen start happening, you can’t really put on the brakes. You shouldn’t want to.”

  “You think this was supposed to happen to me?” she asked.

  Jimmy laughed. “No, not this, necessarily. But I’ve always wanted something special for you, because you are special.”

  Lacey was surprised by Jimmy’s tone. She tried to brush it off. “Yeah, special needs, maybe.”

  “No doubt,” he said. “But let me be serious for just one more minute. Look, some part of you was hidden when you were with Fox. Now, you seem more alive than I’ve seen you in years.”

  “Does freaked out count as more alive?” she asked.

  “That’s temporary, Budge. You’ll get past that. I’m actually kind of excited about all this. Yeah, it’s supernatural and defies explanation, but how cool is it?”

  Lacey laughed. “I’m glad you think so.”

  They watched the rest of The Avengers together, Jimmy taking every opportunity to make cracks about Lacey’s mutant power. She took it as a good sign. He left after the movie ended.