by Diane Munier
“What about you guys—you and Audie—why would someone pick Audie’s car…come to the house?”
“It’s Clark’s house.”
“So—who are they? Are they coming for me?”
“No. That’s why I need you to go away so I can make sure it’s safe. I don’t want you to worry.”
“Oh God,” she said, and he felt her lean in more. “Are you and Audie in trouble, Jules? Tell me!”
“No.”
“But you want to send me away? Without you? No. I won’t leave you.” She clutched his jacket.
“I have to find out what all of this is.”
“Oh God, these people are after us? We have to go to the police, Jules.”
“Calm down. You want the truth? He had his way…your old man? I’d be the one in that blanket, and his buddies would have helped him arrange that, no questions.”
She sniffed and kept staring at him. She wiped the tears herself then and more didn’t come. “Then…it’s better this way,” she whispered.
He grabbed her hand and kissed it, a long kiss, his eyes closed. He loved her so much it made his chest ache.
“Look at me, Jules,” she said, and suddenly she was the strong one, the one comforting him. “It’s better this way.”
He wanted to tell her it was the same for him, but she had to know, and he couldn’t speak just yet. Having her…it’s all that mattered. He had feared her father’s death, all the crap surrounding it, would drive a wedge between them, but he’d underestimated her again, her feelings for him. He was never against her; nothing he did was done against her, ever. She understood, and for the first time since he’d left their home and got pulled into this circus, he could breathe.
So he broke off first and took her arm and led her to the trailer. Dorie and Francis came around her too, and they went inside, and Sue had Clark covered, and she’d pinned his badge on the blanket that shrouded him. A kitchen chair had been placed next to him, and Isbe sat there, and Jules stood behind her, his hands on her bowed shoulders, and he felt it in her, what was and what never was. She touched Clark’s badge, but she wasn’t crying anymore. When Sue asked if she wanted it, Isbe said, “No. Bury it with him.”
Chapter 48
From Redver’s, Bobby was taking Francis and Dorie to spend a couple of nights with Dorie’s parents.
That wasn’t good enough for Jules. After Audie and Jerry finished getting rid of Clark, sans badge (that thing made its way into Jules’s jacket pocket), after they laid him to rest in an unmarked grave, Jules was allowing Jerry to drive Isbe to St. Louis.
Against Jules’s better judgment, he took her to the house so she could pack. Once there, she announced she wasn’t going to St. Louis. This was her home. He was her home. She wasn’t leaving him. She wouldn’t.
Finally, he’d heard enough. He said, “I say what goes on this, Isbe.”
He’d been trying to get her to fill her suitcase, and when she’d plopped on the bed with folded arms, he started packing it himself.
“What about work?”
“You don’t have to go anymore. You quit.”
“Jules, listen to yourself. Who are they and why would they come after me? Are they coming for you? You don’t answer any of my questions, and you expect me to drop everything? No. I’ve—I’ve lost enough. No, Jules. My place is with you.”
“That’s right. This is temporary. You do what I say here, Isbe. I’m not taking chances with you.”
“You have to tell me.” She came close to him, and mad as he was, his arms went right around her.
“Baby, it goes all the way through. I don’t know what Clark was up to, but he was dirty. He was in with a guy—this guy—he shows up here the other day—”
“At the house?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“You were gone. He—he’d gotten hold of the house. Your dad owed him.”
“Jules—my father lost the house? My house?”
“I bought it from him—from Cabhan.”
“You bought my—this house.”
“Yes.”
“How—this house—how?”
“I ah—took a loan.” He hadn’t. Not yet.
“Jules—why didn’t you come to me? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“I handled it.”
“Oh…” her head was moving, chin going left and right, “you handled it?”
Did she doubt him? “I don’t know if they had Clark then…I don’t know. He was in with them. The Irish, it’s the cops, the politicians. But Clark…he was in trouble. Audie’s uncle…there was bullshit between him and Clark.” Never mind he’d stepped right in the middle of it when he took Lou’s money. “But he should never have come here. I bought him off—but then Clark was dumped here. It’s trouble. You hear me, Isbe? I have to see what’s going on. I need you to be safe.”
“If I go away, you’re coming with me. I can’t leave you. I won’t. I can’t lose you!”
“I’ll be fine. The only way I get hurt is if you don’t let me put you somewhere safe.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“I don’t want to be apart. But it clears my mind…”
“No, Jules.”
“Don’t make me force you to go, baby.”
She shoved him with both hands, and what the hell, he almost tripped over a chair because he hadn’t been ready for it, not from her.
She was angry—well, so was he. She didn’t know when to quit. He’d ended up telling her more than he’d meant to, but that’s how crazy she made him.
“There are no secrets in marriage, Jules,” she said, and here came the angry tears.
“Oh no?” he said. “You’re a great one to tell me ‘no secrets.’”
That stopped her. He was trying not to gloat.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, looking like she’d got caught, cat eating the canary, feathers on her lips.
“Don’t give me the ‘who me’ bit. You got something you forgot to tell me?”
“I didn’t forget.”
“No? I’m supposed to believe you trust me when you don’t come clean about money? What—I’m such a loser you can’t let me know you got a stash?”
“It’s not that,” she rushed out.
“What is it then? We married or what—two roommates in here?”
“Oh, roommates? That’s what we are?” She was pulling on the ring now, trying to get it off.
“You throw that at me, you’re not getting it back,” he said, praying she’d stop.
“Another threat? You’re priceless, you are.” She was tugging at that ring.
“Don’t push me.”
“And another one. Bully!”
Oh, eff this. He couldn’t talk to a crazy woman.
“Where are you going?” she yelled, sucking on her finger now.
“I’m going downstairs while you finish packing. You got five minutes,” he yelled back.
He went downstairs, and she followed, and he went through the kitchen and slammed the door behind him. “Nutcase,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the trees from long habit as she yelled, “Bully!” through the door. No, he’d never retreated from a fight, and he couldn’t stand it like this, things cracked up between them. He turned to go back in, and the door was locked. He could only thank himself for it. He’d been preaching it from day one—“Lock the damn door”—and so it was fixed to lock.
He was looking at her; she stood there in the kitchen boohooing into her hands. The ring was still on.
“Open the door,” he said, knocking on the glass. “Isbe.”
She looked up. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Isbe—open the door now.” He’d been ready to say he’d break the glass if she didn’t, but she would only call him on another threat.
“How could you get involved with that man? Did you think working with a murdering gangster was a sensible thing?”
He wasn’t talking like this, through the
door. “Open it,” he commanded, rattling the knob. He didn’t want to break it. Damn, they needed the doors to be intact. He quit begging and went around front, checking out the quiet street. He’d planned to use his key. But he didn’t have his key and, of course, this door was also locked.
He was fuming about now. He went around back and without hesitation climbed onto the patio cover and worked his way up to her window. She had it closed with the cooler weather, but it wasn’t locked. Another time she hadn’t listened. He started to raise it when she walked in the bedroom. “Julius, what are you doing?”
“I’m coming into my house.” He emphasized the “my.”
“Your house?” she said, hands on her hips.
“I bought it, sweetheart. Paid a ridiculous amount of money for it.” Well, he would.
“How much?” she said, all interested in him now that he’d had to break into his own house.
“Aww, no, baby. We don’t talk about money in this family, do we?”
“Julius, the reason I didn’t tell you…about my money…I wanted to surprise you. But the time…I know you’re so ambitious. I wasn’t sure you’d be happy about it. I worried how it would make you feel. I kept meaning to mention it, but the time never seemed right…”
“Stop with the excuses,” he said, rearranging the window now that he’d climbed in like a bandit.
“I’m trying to talk to you.”
“I’m tired of talking. You don’t listen.”
“You’re mean.”
She couldn’t cut him any deeper if she used a knife. He was done with this. They were both tired. Everything he said dug him in deeper.
He took it upon himself to get her suitcase, and he went to her underwear drawer and began grabbing things.
“No,” she said, trying to stop him. He couldn’t believe this.
“Isbe,” he said sternly, her underwear in his hands.
“I’ll do it,” she snapped.
He was taken aback. She was complying? He put the silky bits back in her drawer and stepped aside, and she took his place and sorted through her things, rearranging what he’d disturbed.
“Hey,” he said. He pulled on her arm a little, and she turned to him. There was still that resistance in her face, but her body was soft toward him. She stepped closer, and he put his arms around her. He only meant to peck her lips, but she grabbed onto his arms and pushed into him, her body and her mouth, and he opened his and let her have it. She may make him crazy, but the love…he always wanted her.
“Jules,” she whispered, breaking the kiss, and they looked at one another, up close. “You get me, right?”
He kissed her again, lips and tongue wet and his hands up and down on her back.
“Jules…I’ll go to Dorie’s parents’ house.”
He opened his mouth to protest, and she put her finger over his lips. “Shh. Listen. I can’t go that far from you. I need Dorie and Francis. I’ll go to work with them. No one will hurt me at work. I won’t leave Chicago. I need to see you, Jules. If you think I could go all the way to St. Louis while you’re in trouble, you don’t know me at all.”
He took her hand away and held it, and he let out a long breath. “Twenty grand.”
“What? That’s robbery.”
“Yeah. I’m working on the details.”
“Well, that’s not acceptable. I’m paying that loan. I have twenty-four.”
“Gs?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit. I married a rich broad?” But he wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t want to take money from his wife.
She didn’t smile. “I could have gotten you killed.”
“No, baby, I did this to myself.”
“Listen, Jules, I’m nuts about you. I mean…I wasn’t keeping that money back.”
“That’s your money. You’re keeping it.”
“No…”
“Yes. It’s your security, and that’s the end of it. I don’t need my wife to pay my debts.”
“It’s our money, and this is our house. We’re not carrying debt when we have the money, Jules. And besides…you’re my security.”
Earlier in this conversation, she had doubted him. He’d felt it.
“You mean that? I’m your security?”
“What do you think? Of course I mean it.”
“I’m gonna wash up. I get done, you be ready to go.”
Chapter 49
Leaving her with Dorie and Francis and Dorie’s folks was pitiful. Well, she’d poured on the sad. Damn, he could barely look at her as he pulled away, her on the sidewalk waving. It wasn’t right he’d left her; wasn’t fair with what happened to Clark, and what he’d had to tell her about the house, what her old man had done—Jules knew he should be with her.
He should be taking her away about now. As soon as this was finished, he would.
No, not as soon. He had this job now. He was her security, and he needed to be that, and him taking the job meant everything. He even had a uniform jacket, and she understood that. Even if Clark hadn’t been the sort you could rely on, she understood a man putting on a uniform each and every day, working a job. It’s what men did, one week into the next.
What was it, this thing between them—when he held her, when she walked into a room, everything in him went her way. He got excited. Just being with her—it let the steam off the kettle, that’s all. But then it built again, for her, and it just felt alive. He’d been taking it in, life, but now, he was thinking about all kinds of shit, looking ahead. He was getting deliberate and starting to realize…he knew stuff. He had some things figured out. Like maybe a man should.
So he’d said that to her there in front of the house.
She got a little teary-eyed—well, she was entitled to feel anything she wanted, in his book. He said, “Come ’ere,” and he folded his arms around her.
“Dorie’s parents might be looking,” she warned him, “so don’t…”
“What,” he teased, “grab your sweet little ass or something? You think I’m some kind of animal?”
She leaned back and smiled.
He laughed and gathered her in again.
After a moment, he said, “You girls can’t go to work now. You ain’t had enough sleep, and with what you been through, Isbe, you’re probably in shock.” He had some knowledge of this.
“It’s all right, Jules. I’ll call in and sleep. I know I can’t tell them about Clark, but I couldn’t work the board today. I couldn’t. I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I ain’t been there long enough to miss.”
“You don’t need sleep, Jules?”
“I’ll catch up. And I don’t think I’ll get back here this evening.” He’d been waiting to spring that.
“Then when will I see you? Why can’t I go home with you tonight and sleep with you? You need me.”
He kissed her now. He did need her. Always. “It’s just a couple of days.”
“Just? Maybe you feel that way—just. Not me. Two days is forever, Jules.” He loved that lip she had jutting out.
“I know…you think I like this? But life is hard—sacrifices…” Listen to him. Shit. Was he forty? Sixty?
“I know you, Jules. You won’t call. You’ll do whatever it is you think needs doing, and that’s all you’ll think about.”
She was wrong about that. He never forgot her—not possible.
“You call me, hear? If you don’t…I’ll think you’re hurt. I might come looking, Jules. I will. You know I have before.”
“Is that a threat?” He was proud to catch her red-handed.
“Because I love you!”
“You stay put!” He said this more sternly than she’d probably tolerate, so he kissed her to make up for it. “Because I love you,” he mumbled.
Now that gave her pause.
So he told her to go in, but she said no, she wanted to watch him drive away…so he’d know she wasn’t tucked away…she was waiting…counting seconds. “My hair’s on end, Jules,�
� she said, lifting a lock of her hair and letting it fall on her breast, “and my eyes are red and straining…no sleep…because I’m walking the roof waiting for my husband to come back to me.”
God sakes. She was so obstinate and whatdoyoucallit dramatic. That first night when she’d got in the backseat with Audie, that was her…messing him up… and she wasn’t likely to change. She made him work for everything, and here he’d thought Francis was the nutcracker when this little tornado would smack his balls in a second if he didn’t stand up to her.
So he rode away, watching her in the mirror, and she poured it on, what she wanted him to remember. She was waiting.
And truth is, he missed her already.
It wasn’t if he’d kill Cabhan; it was when and where. He’d shoot him, stab him, run over him, drop a boulder on the unfortunate mistake. So it wasn’t if.
If he made it look like an accident, it would never be investigated. But then…maybe he wanted it investigated. Maybe that’s exactly what he wanted.
So it was when, where, and how. Not if, and there was the commitment, the concrete that supported everything else.
So after he drove away from Isbe, he went to work. On the job, he was still riding with another guy, in training. So he did that, paying attention. He knew this shit already, back of his hand, but the guy showing him, it was brain surgery as far as that guy was concerned. He wasn’t a bad sort, just a talker, a repeater. So Jules played it quiet, careful not to show what he knew. This was all this guy was gonna do in his entire life, so he figured; let him have it. Let him be the president of this shit. This was his big deal. But for Jules, it had to be a steppingstone to something more—something better.
He got through the day and met up with Audie.
They met on the lake like a couple of tourists. Jules bought a hot dog, and they walked along with so much to say, and not saying much. Jules was a little pissed—well, maybe a lot pissed; he wasn’t sure. He was trying to snap out of it, but Audie wasn’t talking, and why not? It was Jules’s father-in-law Audie had spent the morning planting.
“It’s all taken care of,” Audie said. Finally. “I’m out. I don’t work for Cabhan no more.”
