by Ray Garton
“Here ya go, Marc,” she said with a big smile.
She took his money with one hand and gave him the drink with the other. Their fingers briefly touched. As she made change, she said, “Any interesting cases?”
“I’m afraid not, Janine. Business has been very slow. I may just dump the whole thing and go raise alpacas, or something.”
Her laughter was a pleasant, youthful sound. She handed Reznick his change.
“Have a good one, Janine.”
“You, too.”
He drove away and headed for his office.
His frozen drink was already beginning to melt.
* * * *
Sherry awakened suddenly and bit the inside of her cheek.
“Ow,” she said as she slowly raised a hand to the side of her face.
“What’s wrong?” Philpott said.
“I bit mythelf,” she said.
“Andy’s here.”
“What?” she said, her eyes suddenly open wide. She looked down at herself. She was lying on the bed, all the covers in a heap at the foot, in shorts and a yellow tube top – When did I put that on? she thought – and she sat up straight. She closed her eyes tightly when the bed whirled around. She flopped back down on the pillows.
Philpott said, “You wanna try that again a little slower?”
Sherry laughed humorlessly. She slowly sat up and moved her legs off the bed. She sat there for awhile, her elbows locked at her sides.
“What time is it?” she said.
“About quarter to ten.”
“When did he get here?”
“They been here a few minutes.”
“They?”
“David’s with him.”
She set her jaw and stood. “That son of a bitch had better – “ She stalked down the hall and shouted, “You son of a bitch, you’d better have a good story ready!” She stepped into the kitchen and saw him seated at the bar, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer.
“I brought a buncha beer,” he said. “The fridge’s full of it. Now we gotta get some food in there.”
“Where the hell have you been?” she said. “You fuckin’ jerk, you know how worried I was?”
“Yeah, I noticed how worried you was when I got here. You was so worried, Philpott had to wake you up.”
Sherry turned around and reached out blindly. Her hand landed on a coffee mug on the counter. As she lifted it and pulled it back over her shoulder, Andy disappeared behind the bar. She threw it anyway, and it broke into two pieces when it hit the living room floor.
“Hey,” David said. He was seated in Andy’s recliner watching television. The mug fell at his feet.
“You fuckin’ asshole,” Sherry said. “I was worried all night. I called your cell phone, but it was turned off. Turned off! Since when do you turn off your phone?”
Andy cautiously raised his eyes above the edge of the bar. When he saw she was unarmed, he rose up and sat on the stool again. There were two stools at the bar, one on the living room side and one on the kitchen side, and they did not match.
“My battery’s dead,” he said. He reached into his pocket, took the small silver phone out and put it on the bar. “Look at it yourself.”
She crossed the kitchen and opened the phone. She tried to turn it on.
“No signal,” Andy said. “Nothing. Needs batteries.”
“Where the hell were you all night?” she said, putting the phone back down, not very carefully.
“David and I went over to Eddie’s to score some pot,” he said.
Sherry pulled back and put a fist on her hip, her elbow jutting out at her side. Her face seethed. “Was Karen there?” she said.
“Well, a course Karen was there, she’s married to him, isn’t she?”
Karen was a sore spot. Andy had slept with her once while Eddie was out of town. The only reason Eddie had anything to do with Andy was that Eddie didn’t know anything about it.
“You were there all night?” Sherry said.
“Well, Eddie had some weed that was… oh, man, it was some special shit, I tell ya, some stuff he’d grown himself.” Andy shook his head. “Ain’t nothin’ ever made me that stoned since the first time I got stoned.” He turned to David. “Wasn’t that some good shit?”
“Incredible shit,” David said. “It was amazing. At one point, I imagined I had a bunch of little holes in my forehead and a cold breeze was blowing in over my brain.”
Andy and David laughed.
“You were stoned all night?” Sherry said.
Andy said, “Too stoned to drive home.”
“And Eddie and Karen don’t have a fuckin’ phone?”
“Like I toldja, I was stoned, I didn’t think to call you. I wasn’t thinking, period.”
Sherry sighed. What made her just as angry as the fact that he hadn’t called all night was the fact that she was so glad to see him, she wanted to go to him and touch his face and put her fingers in his beautiful long hair. She stood there and looked at him for a while, and then she did. She went to the bar, bent over it, and kissed him with her hand on the side of his head.
“God, how I wish you’d been here last night,” she said. “It was so scary.” She pulled back and turned to David in the living room. “Who the hell was that guy you brought here?”
“Arnie?” David said. “Where is Arnie, anyway?”
“He’s dead,” Sherry said angrily. “He OD’d here last night.”
“Whuh… what?” David said, slowly sitting forward in the recliner. He gradually rose to his feet. “Did you say… Arnie is… dead?”
“Yes.”
“Then… where is he? What happened to him?”
She looked at Andy. “You’re not gonna believe it. These men – they claimed to be Secret Service. They came and took your friend away, David. They wrapped him up in blankets and just took him away. Two men dressed in black. As they left, one said this had never happened, and we’d never seen them, or somethin’ like that.”
David walked toward her, until he was standing at the end of the short bar. “Secret… Service?”
“Yeah,” Sherry said. “Who was he, anyway? How did they know he was here?”
“His dad’s a senator – haven’t you heard of him?” David said.
“We’re not like you, David,” Andy said. “We don’t watch the news unless they’re gonna show a train wreck, or somethin’, and we wouldn’t know a senator from a monkey on a rock. You’re a college boy, man,” Andy said good-naturedly, and not without a little envy. “You pay attention to that stuff.” He took a long drag on his cigarette. “We depend on you to tell us about it.” Andy chuckled smokily.
“Oh. Well, if you say so,” David said, but there was a flatness to his voice, and his eyes fixed on the end of the bar in a sad stare. “His dad’s Senator Wilson Garvis. From… uh… damn, I forget which state now, isn’t that funny? I’ve known Arnie all these years… and I can’t… remember… what state he’s from.”
David clutched the end of the bar hard, as if he would fall if he didn’t.
“You okay, David?” Andy said, moving toward him. “Maybe you should sit down.”
“Sit here,” Sherry said, bringing the stool around to him.
David perched himself on the stool and leaned his elbows on the bar.
“You know the type,” David said. “He’s big on morals and family values and prayer in schools. He and Arnie never got along. He wanted Arnie to follow in his footsteps and go into politics. Arnie wanted to be a biologist. It infuriated his father. The man was constantly interfering in his life, even having him followed, and attaching homing devices to him, or using his cell phone signal to keep track of where he was at all times. That’s probably how they found him. They probably weren’t far away. They might’ve even had something on him that picked up blood pressure – you know, vital signs. They… they probably knew he was dead.”
“Are you serious?” Sherry said.
“Dead serious. The man
was almost obsessive about keeping tabs on Arnie. He wanted to know what he was doing at all times. Now they’re probably going to arrange a more… wholesome death.”
“Whatta ya mean?” Andy said.
“They won’t want anyone to know that he duh-duh… “ David stopped and put his face in his hands. “That he died of a drug overdose. Couldn’t have that. They’ll come up with another kind of death for him. Something cleaner. More acceptable.” He lowered his hands and sat up straight, took in a deep breath and let it out in a long, sigh heavy with sadness. “Arnie had too many secrets,” he said. His eyes glistened and his cheeks were wet. “Drug use. The fact that he was gay.” He turned sad eyes to Sherry. “We were lovers. For a long time.”
Sherry took in a breath. “Oh, David, I’m so sorry.”
His head jerked up and down. “I know, you didn’t mean anything, and you couldn’t have known. But now… yeah, they’ll have a fake death. A car wreck, or a boating accident, or something. Anything but an overdose. And I won’t be able to go to his funeral. For me, he’s just… he’s… gone.”
“Those bastards,” Sherry said quietly. She went to David and took his right hand in both of hers. “What else are those people hiding?”
“Oh, lots of things. His mom is hooked on pills and his dad drinks and sees hookers. But they go to church every Sunday, so I guess it all… evens out.”
Nobody said anything for a long time. Sherry turned to the refrigerator and got a beer. She popped the can open and tipped it back, took a few big gulps. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She found herself facing Philpott, who had been standing the whole time in the entrance to the hallway. “You’ve been awful quiet, Philpott. Wanna beer?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I feel bad for David. And those guys… they’re a little scary.”
She got another beer from the fridge and handed it to him. “What do you mean?”
Philpott shrugged again as he opened the beer. “Who’s to say they won’t want to shut up the only people who know that Arnie Garvis really died of a drug overdose?”
A splash of cold filled Sherry’s chest, then slowly passed through her entire body, until she shivered in the heat. She turned to Andy and David.
“Did you hear that?” she said. “He’s right – who’s to say they won’t?” To David, she said, “What do you think? Will they come back? Or will they send someone else?”
Andy said, “Oh, c’mon, you’re bein’ paranoid now.”
“Oh, really?” Sherry said. She felt genuine fear in the pit of her stomach, and she turned to David again. “You’re not sayin’ anything, David.”
“Well… “ His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but nothing came out. “You… you probably don’t have anything to worry about,” he said without looking at her.
“Probably?” she said, her voice low and tremulous. “Whatta you mean, probably?”
“I-I-I don’t know,” David said as he dropped off the stool and began to pace the living room.
“So… there’s a chance,” Sherry said. “You’re sayin’ there’s a chance.”
“I-I just don’t, I don’t know, Sherry,” he said as he threw up his arms and let them slap at his sides. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
She went to Andy and clutched his forearm. “You hear that?”
“Don’t get yourself worked up,” Andy said. “Nobody’s comin’ to shut nobody up. And if they do, I gotta couple guns a my own that I’m not afraid a usin’, and I can use ‘em pretty damned good, too.” He wrapped his arms around her and smiled as he kissed her. “Don’t worry, hon, nobody’s comin’ to get ya.”
“Yeah, that’s what you think,” she said against his shoulder. “You didn’t see these guys. They gave me the creeps.”
“Don’t worry,” Andy said. “I’ll protect you from the bad guys.” Then he laughed.
Ten
By lunchtime, Reznick was finished with the McMurtry novel.
His office was just one square room, with a door in back that led to a long corridor, which led to a restroom used by all the businesses on this side of the block. There was his desk, always a bit of a mess, with his computer and keyboard. Behind it, a low cupboard with a counter on top, and another cupboard above it. In the upper cupboard, he kept a few mugs, a few plates, glasses, bowls; in the lower cupboard, cleaning supplies, paper towels, and a small garbage can, with one drawer just below the counter in which he kept some utensils and cutlery. On the counter beneath the upper cupboards were a coffee maker – it was on now and the whole room smelled of coffee – a microwave, a small refrigerator, and a sink, with a roll of paper towels hanging over it. There were a couple metal filing cabinets, a small closet. He had two framed posters hanging on the walls – one of The Scream, the other of Starry Night.
It wasn’t much, but it was all he could afford at the moment. Anderson wasn’t the ideal location – Redding would have been better. But it was cheaper here, and right now, that was more important.
He’d eaten no breakfast – he hadn’t been hungry – but now his stomach purred and gurgled and let him know it was time to eat.
A new barbecue place had opened two doors down, just the other side of Bea’s Beauty Parlor. Barbecue sounded good, and he decided to give it a try. Normally, he brought his own lunch, but he didn’t feel like taking the time to make one that morning.
He didn’t bother locking the office. He turned right outside his door and moved through an area of vile odors emanating from the beauty parlor, into an invisible cloud made up of the tangy aroma of barbecue. Reznick tilted his head back a bit, breathed in deep through his nose, then out through his mouth. He looked at the words painted on the glass in front of the small take-out joint: UNCLE LEROY’S HOMEMADE BARBECUE.
Specials were posted on a board that rested on a tripod just outside the glass door. The door had a flat metal bar across the front of it, just like the door of Reznick’s office. He pushed through the door, stepped inside, and released a pleasant sigh.
The aroma was thick inside. Behind the front counter were tri-tips on a spit over a grill that held chicken and ribs, and a large pot. Behind the counter stood a tall black man in a long white apron over a white T-shirt. His short black hair was sprinkled with white.
“Hello, there,” Reznick said.
“Hello to you,” the man said, smiling.
“Are you Uncle Leroy?”
“That’s me, all right.”
Reznick shook his head and smiled. “I’ll tell ya – I don’t think I’ve ever smelled better barbecue in my life.”
“Well, if I do say so myself, it tastes as good as it smells. What do you have a hankerin’ for today?”
“I think ribs sound really good.”
“Ribs it is. Ribs for one?”
“Yes.”
Leroy turned around and unrolled some aluminum foil.
“You’ve only been open a couple days, right?” Reznick said.
“Three days.”
“How’s business so far?”
Leroy put some ribs on the foil and wrapped them up. “Truth be told, I’ll be outta here in two weeks, it don’t get any better soon.” He put the ribs in a white paper bag. “You get two sides with that. I got mashed ‘taters and gravy, I got coleslaw, which I made this mornin’, I got a green salad that’s just so-so, I’m afraid, and mister, I got baked beans my momma made that’ll take you outta your body.”
Reznick laughed. “Let’s see, give me… some coleslaw and some of those metaphysical baked beans.”
Leroy laughed then.
While Leroy went to the refrigerator for the coleslaw, Reznick said, “What’s wrong with us, Leroy? What happened? We’re two guys who are good at what we do, and all we want to do is sell our services and make an honest living. Right? Isn’t that what America is all about? So how did we end up here, short of customers? Huh? What do we have to do? I read online this morning about that serial killer – have you heard about this?”
“He’s the one who built a shack out in the woods and had all those women he’d killed sitting up in a row in that shack. He’d cut their throats and watched them die. Then he’d had sex with them. I mean, Leroy, can you imagine anything more horrible, anything more barbaric? But now they’re making a movie about him.”
Leroy scooped baked beans from the pot into a Styrofoam container.
Reznick said, “Now, you and me, Leroy, they’ll never make a movie about us. Nobody’ll ever write a book about you or me. But go to the bookstores and the shelves are filled with books about men who kill their wives and women who kill their husbands, or their children – and people eat them up with a spoon. And you and me, Leroy… we can’t make a buck. So what’s wrong? Huh? Hey. I’ve got an idea. Do you have any business cards, Leroy?”
“Yes, I do, I just had ‘em made up.”
“Tell you what,” Reznick said. “We’ll trade business cards, you and me, and we’ll hand them out to people. What do you say? It’s always easier to talk up somebody else, right? And we’ll actively try to get rid of them, okay?”
