“Yes, it really is.”
The passenger door opened; Gretchen got in smiling. “Start the engine.”
“Oh no. Not me.”
“You should hear this baby purr,” Cowboy said. “The 440 six-pack sounds sweeter than the 383. Tell me, did yours have headers?”
“No. Stock exhaust. Really, this isn't a good idea. I promised Brenda...”
“Brenda isn't here. That nigger killed her.”
His words stabbed like a dagger.
“Sorry, partner. But I have got to tell you something.”
“Yeah, what's that?”
“This car is special.”
“No shit it's special. It's a fucking cherry '69 Charger.”
“If you start the engine, you'll have what is known as a moment of clarity. Do you know what I mean?”
“Of course I know. I was an alcoholic. Listen to me. Was? I am.”
“What I'm saying is, all you have to do is start the engine and all will be clear. Your slurred speech will improve. The blurred vision, gone. I really think you owe it to yourself to fire up the engine and see for yourself.”
“Go on, baby,” Gretchen said. “I wanna hear it purr. Please? Do it for me?”
“I don't have the keys.”
“Already in the ignition. Simply twist the key.”
James hesitated. He didn't plan to do anything except listen to the beautiful rumble of a Hemi. Maybe rev the engine a bit, just to feel the intoxicating power beneath the hood. Lord, what he wouldn't have given for a six-pack all those years ago.
He reached for the key. Cold, innocent metal.
“Go ahead.”
“Please.”
With a twist of his wrist, the engine roared to life.
The world stopped spinning. Images became crisper. He could see clearly out across the hood, past the parking lot, to the open road. The twins were gone. When he revved the engine the car rocked with bridled power.
James couldn't believe how clear he could think. His wife and child were gone, dead, never coming back. There he sat in his dream car. Just as he had given up a life of alcohol and fast cars for the love of his life, he had just been offered a second chance at rebellious youth.
He didn't want it. He wanted his family and Ford Taurus back.
“Can't have them back,” Cowboy reminded him.
“Gotta take what you can get, sweetheart. But you deserve a little justice.”
“Fucking-A I deserve some justice. Sharon and Brenda are the ones who deserve justice. I could care less about myself anymore.”
“Then you should get K.C. Mace,” Cowboy said.
“Get him? I should get outta this car right now.”
“I tell you what. How about you drive it home, bring it back tomorrow night. Sort of a test drive.”
“You can't be serious.”
“Deadly serious.”
“Why the hell would you give anyone, much less someone such as me, the keys to a car like this?”
“Because I want you to have it.”
“You are crazy.”
“No, I am not.”
“What's your angle? I can't afford to buy this car from you. Any life insurance money I get will have to be saved for the mortgage.”
“Let's just say I think you deserve this. Plus I want a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“For a one-night test drive, all I want is for you to drive Gretchen home for me.”
“And what if I don't bring the car back tomorrow night?”
“Don't worry, Jim. I trust you. You'll bring it back.”
“What if I wreck it?”
Cowboy waved him off, unconcerned.
“One night. Drive Gretchen home. I'll see you tomorrow. I insist.”
Despite his better judgment, James said okay.
“Yee-haw!” Gretchen bounced in her seat.
Cowboy smiled. “Gretchen is excited. We've got ourselves a deal?” Cowboy extended his hand.
James shook it firmly. “Deal.”
“See you tomorrow night. You two enjoy yourselves. I've got a little business to attend to inside.” With that, Cowboy shut the door and stepped back.
With a deep breath, James slipped the car into gear and gently pressed the gas pedal. The car launched forward.
Sound of Madness Page 6
