Quiver

by Peter Leonard

  She moved down the hall to Luke’s room. From the window she checked the yard in front of the lodge, then slowly panned the woods along the perimeter. The phone rang and it startled her. She ran downstairs and picked up the extension in the main room on the third ring.

  “Hello,” Kate said, thinking it would be Jack.

  “You know we’re not fucking around,” the voice said, “don’t you?”

  “Where’s Luke?”

  “Right here. He cool. But he ain’t going to be cool if you talk to the police.”

  It was a man’s voice, distorted, like something was over the mouthpiece.

  “You want to watch him grow up, capture the Kodak moments, it’s going to cost you two million dollars-spare change for somebody in your tax bracket.”

  Kate said, “I want to talk to him.”

  “Get the money.”

  “How do I know you have him?”

  “Got thirty-six hours before we start to cut him up and send him to you. What you want first-finger or a ear?”

  He hung up.

  Kate told herself not to panic, keep it together. They were saying that to scare her, make her believe they were serious. And it worked. She felt helpless, frantic. After everything Luke had been through, what would this do to him?

  Of course, she’d get the money. But how was she going to get two million dollars in cash? Walk into a bank and make a withdrawal? She thought about talking to Dick May, ask his advice, but decided against it. She couldn’t risk telling anyone but Jack.

  She called the Traverse City Bank and Trust and asked for Ken Calvert, the manager. He’d handled the transaction when they bought the property in Cathead Bay.

  He picked up the phone and said, “Kate, I’m sorry about Owen. My condolences.”

  He’d sent a note after the funeral and Kate thanked him for that and said she was in the process of buying a piece of land for two million, but the seller wanted cash. She looked out the kitchen window at the woods.

  “Cash?” Calvert said. “You’ve got to be kidding. What’s he going to do with it?”

  She could hear him breathe through his nose.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s planning to put it in shoeboxes under his bed,” Kate said. “Draw comfort from the fact that it’s there if he needs it.”

  Calvert said, “Hey, you know, that’s why banks were invented, eh?”

  She could hear his Canadian accent now.

  “You don’t have to convince me,” Kate said. “I’m dealing with an elderly gentleman who doesn’t trust technology.”

  “This wouldn’t be Myron Cline, would it? I could see him doing something crazy like this.”

  Kate said, “I can’t tell you.” She glanced at the ransom note on the counter.

  “That’s a lot of money,” Calvert said, stretching out the vowels: a lot coming out like a loot.

  Kate remembered Calvert telling her he was from Sudbury, Ontario, when they’d met at his office to sign the papers for the Cathead property.

  Kate had said, “Where exactly is Sudbury?”

  Calvert said, “It’s aboot a hundred kilometers from Tilbury.”

  He’d grinned, showing teeth that were the size of Chiclets. He was being funny, Kate realized-making a joke-a real Canadian zinger.

  Calvert also said he’d played hockey for the Sudbury Wolves during the Bob Strumm-Wayne Maxner era and knew Todd Bertuzzi. “Our most famous Sudburian,” Calvert said, beaming with pride. “If you’re ever in Sudbury, be sure to see the big nickel. It’s a replica of the Canadian five-cent piece. Largest coin in the world-nine meters high and sixty-one centimeters thick.”

  Kate said, “I guess it doesn’t fit in a pop machine, huh?”

  Calvert grinned again.

  “I’ll have the money wired to you tomorrow,” Kate said. Leon walked in the kitchen and bumped her and she patted his head.

  “You can wire all you want, the problem is cash. We don’t keep that much on hand,” Calvert said. “I’ll have to order it from the Federal Reserve in Chicago.”

  “So it’s not illegal to withdraw two million?”

  “No, it’s not illegal. It’s not safe, either. I’d have a sheriff ’s deputy escort me if it was my hard-earned dollars.”

  She heard him sneeze.

  Kate said, “How long does it take?”

  “I don’t know-couple days. They’ll put it on the regular delivery, which, as you can imagine, is confidential information.”

  He sneezed again.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Got a cold,” Calvert said.

  “I’ve got thirty-six hours to close this deal.” She glanced out at the lake.

  “What’s the big hurry?”

  Kate said, “You’d have to ask the seller.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Calvert said, “but we’re dealing with bureaucracy here. There’re rules. Unless you’re willing to pay extra to have it expedited?”

  Kate said, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Whatever it takes? Whoa, I wouldn’t say that till I heard the amount.”

  Kate said, “Ken, let me know and I’ll make a decision, okay?” It annoyed her that Calvert, the frugal Canadian, was trying to decide for her.

  He said he’d call her after he looked into it and got all the facts.

  She had $400,000 in a cash management account at Martin Smith Securities. She could liquidate stocks to raise the rest-$1,600,000. Borrow it on margin if she had to. She called her broker, a former University of Michigan basketball player named Bill Lelich-Billy Lee-six foot six in black wing tips and his standard uniform: blue suit, white shirt and red tie, looking and sounding more like an evangelist or self-help guru than a broker. Owen had referred to him as the Rudy of the Big Ten, Billy Lee only seeing action for a couple of minutes in one game against Northwestern during his three-year college career.

  Kate told him she was in Cathead Bay buying a piece of property and needed two million dollars and the money had to be wired to the Traverse City Bank and Trust the next day. Billy said, “That’s all, pretty Mrs. McCall, my number-one client? That’s all you need? Piece of cake.” He’d have it there by ten the next morning. “Anything else? There must be something.” Giving her his full-court confidence-like every request was a snap-if you dealt with Billy Lee.

  Kate felt relieved the money was taken care of. Now she had to deal with Bill Wink, call him, because she knew it was just a matter of time before he’d show up again. He answered his cell phone on the second ring. Kate said, “I just heard from Luke; he’s back in Bloomfield Hills. Freaked out and took a bus home. Can you believe it? Said being up here reminded him of his dad’s death and it was too painful to handle.”

  Bill said, “I’m glad he’s okay. But I’ve got to tell you I’m surprised. It didn’t look too good this morning. Sorry if we scared you. Johnny and Del were pretty convinced about what they saw.” He paused now, like he was trying to think of what to say next. “What’re you going to do?”

  “Go home,” Kate said.

  “Can I buy you dinner first?”

  “Bill, that’s nice of you to offer, but I better get back and keep an eye on Luke. Thanks for all your help.”

  That was it. He sounded like he bought it. Now she just had to be careful she didn’t run into him.

  Jack arrived four hours later. She heard a car, opened the front door, and there he was. She put her arms around him and hung on, feeling a sense of relief, like he was going to make everything better.

  Jack said, “Hey, you all right?” He held her face in his hands.

  “You always come through,” Kate said, “don’t you?”

  “Tell me what’s happening.”

  They went in the kitchen and she made drinks-Maker’s and soda-and handed one to Jack. They sat on the same side of the breakfast room table, chairs turned, facing each other, Jack giving her his full attention. Kate showed him the ransom note and told him about the phone call from the kidn
appers.

  Jack said, “You didn’t call the police, did you?”

  Kate shook her head. She could feel tears well up, losing it now, telling herself she wasn’t going to do that.

  Jack got up and put his arms around her.

  Kate said. “If they hurt Luke…” She let it hang-didn’t tell Jack what she’d do, how she’d hire pros to hunt them down.

  “Why’re you talking like that? They’re not going to hurt Luke. We’re going to get through this,” Jack said. “It’s about money. They’ve invested too much time to fuck it up.”

  “How do you know how much time they’ve invested?”

  Jack said, “I can understand how this can put you on edge. Listen, I’m here to help you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “why am I taking it out on you?”

  He met her gaze and sipped his drink. “ ’Cause I’m the only one here.”

  She grinned. “I should be grateful, huh?”

  “That would be in the right direction,” Jack said.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Kate said. Then she told him about ordering the money. “It’s coming by armored car from the Federal Reserve in Chicago.”

  “When’s it get here?”

  “The manager didn’t know and wouldn’t tell me if he did.” Kate sipped her bourbon and said, “This remind you of anything?”

  Jack said, “You’re not talking about Guatemala, are you?”

  “What else? You’re the first person I think of when I’m in trouble.”

  “I don’t know if that’s good or not.” He reached over and took her hand. “It’s all going to work out.”

  “They said thirty-six hours or they’d cut off a finger or an ear.”

  “That’s drama,” Jack said. “To get your attention. If they’ve got a brain between them, they know you’re going to want to see Luke before you pay them a dime. They hurt him, it’ll screw everything up. They’re trying to scare you-that’s all.”

  “It’s working,” Kate said.

  They had dinner-spaghetti carbonara and a bottle of Italian chardonnay called Cabreo that Kate said they’d brought back by the case from Tuscany. Kate picking at her food, barely eating, quiet, distant.

  Jack said, “Where exactly is Tuscany at?”

  Kate didn’t answer, then looked up from her plate and said, “Huh?”

  “You don’t want to talk, it’s okay.”

  “What’d you ask me?”

  He repeated the question.

  Kate said, “North of Rome, all the way up to Florence, which is the capital.”

  Jack was thinking if things worked out, he’d like to see the world. He’d only been as far west as Vegas, as far north as Toronto, as far east as New York City, and as far south as Guatemala City, a place he wouldn’t recommend based on what he’d seen-his brief visit.

  After dinner Kate picked up their dishes and took them into the kitchen.

  Jack said, “Come and sit. I’ll do those.”

  “I can’t. I’m too wound up,” Kate said.

  “Let me help you.”

  She was at the sink with her back to him. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Kate turned and looked over her shoulder at him. “This is your idea of helping, huh?”

  Jack grabbed her forearm and turned her toward him and kissed her and she kissed him back and held him. Then she took his hand and guided him out of the kitchen, to the stairs and led him up, never looking at him or saying a word.

  And then they were standing next to her bed-moonlight coming through the windows-kissing and taking each other’s clothes off and then they were naked in bed, the warm feel of their bodies pressed together. Jack studied her face in the dim light and thought she looked the same as she did in college. Could’ve been in her Ann Arbor apartment. The only thing missing was Marvin Gaye singing “If I Could Build My Whole World Around You” or “Distant Lover.”

  This is what he wanted to happen, but something wasn’t right. She wasn’t herself, looking up at him without expression. He couldn’t tell if she liked it or not. He kissed her and she reached down and took him in her hand and opened her legs and guided him in. He was conscious of his weight on her and the pleasure he felt, bodies moving together with vague familiarity. Like he knew her but didn’t know her. And when they were finished, Jack said, “God, that felt good.”

  She didn’t say anything, just slid out from under him and got up and walked across the room naked, Jack staring at her perfect ass. He said, “Hey, where’re you going?” She was acting strange. And wasn’t it her idea?

  Her robe was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Kate put it on and pulled it closed and looked at herself in the mirror. Knew why she did it. She was lonely and stressed out and liked Jack and needed someone to comfort her. Now she felt guilty. It didn’t have anything to do with Owen. He would’ve encouraged her to move on. It was Luke. She felt like she was betraying him, going to bed with someone while he was being held hostage.

  She went back in the bedroom. Jack was still under the covers with his head propped up on pillows, a grin on his face.

  He said, “What’re you doing? Get in here, we’re just getting started.”

  Kate said, “I can’t. I’ve got to go down and wait for them to call.”

  “It’ll be over soon,” Jack said. “Luke’ll be home and you can get back to your normal life.”

  Kate said, “You think so, huh? I don’t know what normal is.”

  TWENTY

  Did he dream it or did it really happen? He opened his eyes, focusing now on the handcuffs. His wrists stung where the metal cuffs had cut into his skin, drawing blood. The handcuffs were connected to a chain that snaked across the bed and continued across the scuffed floor to an eyebolt that was drilled into the hardwood.

  He’d been there a day and a half and they hadn’t said anything about what they intended to do with him, although it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

  He thought there were four of them: Camo, the girl, the black guy, and one more who wasn’t around much-Luke thought of him as the mystery man. He’d seen the others but not him.

  Luke could hear them through the thin walls of the cottage, talking like they were in the room with him. He could hear them doing other things, too, the bed shaking. He’d put the pillow over his ears so he didn’t have to hear her making all the sounds. He’d never heard people having sex and it sounded awful.

  Of all of them, Camo was the worst, coming in the room at different times, hitting him across the face or pushing him down. Luke nervous when he heard the man’s voice-hick accent with a nasal twang-flinching when Camo walked behind him, not knowing when he’d get hit again, Camo laughing, getting a kick out of Luke’s misery.

  The girl wasn’t much better. She brought him scraps of food, gnarled pieces of chicken they’d eaten but didn’t finish-a drumstick, a couple wings with a few slivers of meat. For the first time in his life, he understood what it was like to be hungry. He could hear Camo saying, “Tell that little rich prick that’s all he gets till his momma pays us.”

  She liked to taunt him, too.

  “You a virgin, Luke? I’d like to help you out but…”

  Then she’d pull her shirt up and show him her boobs and say, “They’re beauties, ain’t they? Want to touch them?”

  He didn’t know what to do.

  She also liked to rub his leg and say, “How’s that feel? That wake up the little trouser mouse? Him want to come out, have some fun?”

  He couldn’t help it, he’d get all excited.

  She’d say, “Look at you popping the big tent, you little deviate. Teddy saw us right now, he’d come in cut that little thing off with a knife.”

  Then she’d get a grin on her face and walk out of the room.

  Celeste and Teddy seemed like they were perfect together-a couple of freaks.

  They were in their room, watching TV, a show called Dog Eat Dog that Teddy loved. After every out
rageous stunt, Teddy’d say, “That looks easy. Shit, I could do that.” He was sitting on a lawn chair in a black Drive-By Truckers T-shirt and Jockey briefs that had once been white but now were gray.

  Celeste looked over at him and said, “What’re we going to do with him?” Teddy wasn’t what you’d call a great communicator.

  He said, “Huh?”

  “The kid,” Celeste said. “What’re we going to do with him?”

  He said, “Don’t have a lot of choice in the matter.”

  She wondered if he was being vague on purpose. “What does that mean?”

  “You know.”

  It sounded like he was planning to do something bad. Celeste said, “I never agreed to nothing like that.”

  Teddy said, “He seen your face.”

  There was a bottle of beer on the floor. He reached down without looking, picked it up, and took a drink.

  Celeste said, “What difference does it make, where we’re going?”

  Teddy slid his hand in his underwear and started scratching. He said, “Tell me that when your picture’s on CNN and federal marshals are looking for you.”

  Celeste said, “That seems a tad exaggerated.”

  “Think so, huh?”

  Celeste said, “How ’bout the mom?”

  Teddy said, “How ’bout her?”

  Celeste said, “She hasn’t laid eyes on you.”

  Teddy said, “Want to bet? I talked at her in the bar. She seen you, too. Remember?”

  That’s right. She was sitting at the table. Celeste said, “What else you got planned?”

  Teddy said, “Wait and find out.”

  Celeste said, “This is like going to a movie, you know it?” She took off her jeans and lifted her T-shirt over her head and sat on the edge of the bed naked.

  Teddy glanced over at her. “Better, on account of we’re in it.”

  Celeste said, “I’ve always wanted to be a movie star.”

  Teddy said, “Well, you look like one, setting there in the altogether.”