Who Needs Justice?

by Rex Bolt

"Seemed like a break-up to me," Kim said.

  "You're perfectly welcome to crash here tonight," Christian said to Floyd. "That what you were thinking?"

  "Thanks, but I may have a situation that'll work." He went in the bedroom and made a call. "Yeah, we're cool," he said. "Listen, I appreciate the hospitality and gourmet meal, and it was nice to meet you Kim."

  Christian handed Floyd an extra set of keys and walked him out, this time embracing him on the sidewalk, because you never knew.

  "Where do you think he's going to go?" Kim said.

  "Why? You like him now too?"

  "No, I'm just curious."

  "You're starting to blush," Christian said. "But my brother can have that effect on people. Pretty sure he's visiting a married woman tonight."

  "Gosh, really? Has he ever been married? Or anything?"

  "I don't think so, though I can't rule it out entirely. We have long stretches with no contact."

  "And you're not honest with each other on top of it," she said.

  "The New York travel thing," he said, "Wednesday morning, I'm shooting for."

  Kim said, "Chris, I don't think so."

  "Why? If I die, or something, en route, then you just fly back."

  "Now why would you joke around like that?"

  "Probably what it is, I got enough worries day to day. There's no point looking too far ahead. Would you want to stay over?"

  "Gee . . . does that mean you're past the issue with my sister?"

  "Rear view mirror," Christian said.

  42 - With Graffiti

  Christian slept the best he had in a while. He tip-toed out of the apartment and picked up French pastries, and Kim had cleaned up the kitchen from head to toe and was waiting for him with fresh coffee when got back.

  "You got time?" he said.

  "I do," she said. "I don't start work until two. But I'm going to leave soon, so you can get organized."

  "That's not complicated. One thing I did want to do is see my friend Ray. In case I really don't make it back."

  "Chris, now you're being morbid. It's simply not funny."

  "Be interesting to be a fly on the wall in this place next couple weeks, though," Christian said.

  "Why, what do you think will happen?"

  "Not sure, but my guess is female population will be involved. And there could be some confrontation as well."

  "Do you think so?"

  "Why don't you stop by and find out? Text me the developments."

  "Very funny . . . Chris, you're strong enough to do all that driving?"

  "No sign of decay yet. Piece of cake, is the way I see it."

  "Well last night was really nice. Thank you."

  "It was. What you're saying though . . . if it doesn't work out as well in a few weeks when I get back, or specifically I don’t work out as well, at least there was last night."

  "That is the furthest thing from what I was saying," Kim said, and her eyes got teary and she looked away.

  "Come here," Christian said. "I'm sorry I'm jumpy."

  "You had bad dreams, Chris. I patted you down a few times. That's part of why I'm concerned."

  "Shit. Was I saying anything?"

  "I couldn't make out much. But you were struggling."

  "Jeez, I thought I slept great. In any case . . . see you soon?"

  "Please leave your phone on," she said.

  +++

  Christian spent a few hours getting set, had the oil changed and swung by Ray's at dinner time. The security guard phoned Ray and told Christian to go on up, the first time that happened, since Ray always came down. The place had five stories, and you entered the apartments from outside like a motel. There was a tasteful courtyard in the center with white rocks and a metal sculpture, though there were a couple spots on the sculpture that had been hit with graffiti and painted over.

  "Seely, you ain't catching me at my best moment," Ray said. He was in his pajamas and slippers and hadn't shaved in a while.

  "You okay?" Christian said.

  "Running a fever is all. The shit fucks with you."

  "Your treatment you mean?"

  "That, the meds, the nine yards. I'll handle it. Sit down if you want."

  Christian sat on a folding chair. "Your place is neater than mine. You've got the minimalist touch going on."

  "I ain't striving for any particular flavor, to be honest."

  "Today's your day off though, right? You going in tomorrow?"

  "Yeah, you worrying about me, which you better stop doing . . . I don't miss any of 'em. That's worse."

  "Ray I'm going out of town for a little while."

  "How long then?"

  "Few weeks. Call me if you need something, okay?"

  "Fine, but how you gonna deal with it long distance?"

  "I don't know . . . The cops were talking to me yesterday, it's weighing on me."

  "You didn't do nothing, right? So what did they want?"

  "I might have done something . . . and then I might have blurted out something about it, which someone heard and reported."

  "Well I'll be damn . . . Seely, you continuing with the surprises. Someone hearing and reporting what, exactly?"

  "Cop didn't say. He also implied they were looking at the guy who reported it, that they established he's a pathological liar."

  "What else they ask you?"

  "Ran a couple scenarios by me, wanted to know how plausible I thought they were."

  "They got an original reason to be liking you? Before they claim you yelling out?"

  "It would be a stretch. And if they're going that direction, two guys are on the map ahead of me."

  "What you telling me, in your pussy ass way . . . they don't got jack shit. They shut out. You the only one not seeing it."

  "I am?"

  "How long has it been, since you might have did this deed?"

  "About two months. This guy talking to me, he's playing it straight. I'm worried he's slicker than that."

  "C'mon, man, after two months he ain't. Only reason they're talking to you, and plenty other people, they praying someone volunteer something. It SFPD?"

  "Nah, suburbs actually."

  "White suburbs?"

  "Yeah."

  "In that case they even more ice cold."

  "So when I'm away, if someone rings my bell and I'm not there, that mean anything?"

  "Only that you're going about your business. Which you supposed to be ."

  "Well, I appreciate it . . . I talked to Birgitte, she thinks her husband disappeared on her."

  "Good."

  Christian got up. "All right then. Can I do anything for you? The store, whatever?"

  "No . . . You doing something for me already, showing your ugly face here. I don't mind admitting that."

  Christian reached over and squeezed Ray's shoulder. "You take care," he said.

  43 - Any Episode

  He couldn't see stopping for the night in Winnemucca again, so he pushed it all the way to West Wendover. It was the last town going east in Nevada, and they made sure to build it right against the Utah border so the Salt Lake City gambling crowd didn't have to drive one extra foot. He walked around a little after dinner, and there wasn't much life to the place when you got a block or two away from the casinos.

  In the morning, he looked at his road atlas and sized up his day. It was a straight-shot hundred forty-seven miles to Salt Lake and then another seven hours to Cheyenne, Wyoming. From there, if he kept to his business, it was three days to the George Washington Bridge.

  He was a half hour into the drive, the Great Salt Lake on his left, when Ray got in his head. Specifically the part about the white-suburb cops maybe not being that great at solving homicides. Twisting it the other way, New York City cops would be pretty damn good at it. You picked any episode of Law and Order, not the Baltimore ones but the original ones set in Manhattan, and these guys were street-smart and relentless and usually got their man.

  Something else he hadn't thought
of: After 9-11 there might be cameras all over the city now too.

  Christian got off at the next exit and had a second breakfast at a truck stop called The Boss Griddle and thought it through. This was what, Thursday? The percentages said Thad should be around. He wouldn't have to leave for New York for a week, unless he was combining it with another trade show beforehand, which didn't seem likely based on that phone conversation they'd had.

  Salt Lake City to Pocatello was a couple hours up the Interstate the wrong way, but Christian decided it wouldn't kill him to at least take a chance. He opened the trunk and wrapped the gun in a rag and casually put it in the glove compartment. He looped north at the 80-15 interchange, and it was ten after two when he got off at the East Center Street exit in Pocatello.

  He found Yellowstone again and turned into Broadway Fit, and there was Thad's black Highlander in the same spot in back. You could see the car once you were in the parking lot, but people driving by on Yellowstone couldn't see it because the building blocked it out, something Christian wished he'd deduced the last time. But here he was, and it was on, if he could work it.

  He took his time cruising the residential side streets that were adjacent to Yellowstone Avenue, trying to figure out an inconspicuous escape route that wouldn't feature too many stop lights. He settled on making the quick right onto Pine, another right on Pershing, a left on Maple, and a left on Randolph which took you past Alameda Park and to the service road for I-15. He drove it twice, timed it the second time, and he was on the freeway traveling south in just under six minutes.

  It was around four now, and when he'd scouted Thad before, both times he left his gym at 4:45 and drove to the Bannock Swim and Racquet Club. There was a hardware store across Yellowstone from Broadway Fit, and Christian parked there and called Kim.

  "You busy?" he said.

  "Sort of, I'm at work," she said. "But that doesn't matter. Chris, I'm missing you."

  "Well I can turn around and pick you up."

  "I should have come with you. I mean it. How has your drive been?"

  "Kind of refreshing so far. In my next life I may decide to be a long distance trucker. Except I think they eat bad, ultimately."

  "Bethany was here last night."

  "Yeah, well, what can you do."

  "You're right, that was improper of her."

  "The thing you're talking about, she's stretching way out of proportion. I were you, I wouldn't believe anything she says from here on out."

  "I'm not going to . . . How soon do you think you'll be back?"

  "I may be able to speed things up a bit, depending. The New York part isn't that important, it turns out, but I'm thinking I should say hi to my sister in Boston."

  "I didn't even know you had a sister. My God, of course you should."

  "Well I'll let you go," he said.

  "Chris, what you were saying just then, about Bethany exaggerating your situation . . . "

  "That's what I was trying to tell you the other night. Except there was too darn much chaos."

  "Well you made my day by calling," she said.

  "Mine too."

  Christian opened his passenger window all the way, and he took the Czechpoint out of the glove compartment. At 4:40 he drove into the space to the left of the Highlander and kept the engine running. He had a Reno Gazette sports page that he'd been carrying around, and he spread it open against the steering wheel.

  A couple minutes went by and then he heard a beep, and it was Thad coming around the back of the gym, opening his car door from twenty feet away. Christian scanned the parking lot. If there was any sign of life, obviously, he'd wasted the trip, but he didn't see anybody and he let Thad get in and close the door. Then he reached across the passenger seat as far as he could and shot him in the face.

  Right away he was worried that he might not have finished him off with just the one shot, especially since it had to go through Thad's side window, which could have deflected or altered something. But that was all he could risk, and he pulled medium-speed out of the Broadway Fit parking lot and picked up his escape route, careful to stay with the flow of traffic, and was soon back on I-15.

  This time he'd started hyperventilating, right from the moment Thad beeped open his door, and that didn't stop until he had downed a couple of cheeseburgers and an order of animal fries at an In-n-Out in Salt Lake City, and then he felt a lot better, the blood sugar back under control.

  It was after eight and it didn't seem necessary to go any further tonight. There were kids at In-n-Out wearing University of Utah hats and t-shirts, so Christian assumed the campus was close by, and maybe he'd have a look at it in the morning. He found a motel, pricier than you would have thought out here, but it had a nice outdoor jacuzzi, and he put his head back and let the jets massage the soles of his feet the way Allison had done it that night.

  44 - In Battendorf

  He'd brought his running stuff, and in the morning he found the college track and logged three miles, feeling the altitude the whole time. Before he checked out of the motel he flipped on the TV, which he had purposely left off last night. There was no newscast on, but a local channel doing an interview show had a ticker tape at the bottom with headlines, and Christian found his:

  Pocatello Man Shot, Remains Critical

  Christian was afraid of this, the fucker hanging on and maybe being able to say something. The good thing though, if he was remaining critical, that implied he started off critical, so how talkative could he have been with a bullet in the head?

  Either way, there was no point sitting around, and after an hour and twenty minutes he crossed into Evanston, Wyoming, and he understood why they called it The Big Sky Country, the deep blue sky with wisps of white clouds, hovering like a giant dome that extended down to all corners of the earth.

  By lunchtime he wasn't dwelling on Thad as much and was trying to piece together when the last time was he'd seen his sister Bonnie. There was the time they'd met up in Vermont, when Bonnie and her then-husband Wayne were renting a summer place and Christian was driving to Nova Scotia. Bert was probably three or four then. That was the August after their mom died, six years ago now. That was it?

  He stopped for the night in Lexington, Nebraska, and before he went to bed he called Bonnie. "You woke me up," she said. "There's a time change, remember?"

  "I'm in the middle of the country," he said. "I thought there'd be less of one."

  "Chrissy, it really is nice to hear from you. But now I'm worried something's wrong."

  "Nothing's wrong. How's Bert?"

  "He's good, he just turned nine. What are you doing there?"

  "I thought I'd say hello, in person. It's been way too long."

  "When?"

  It was Friday night. "I'm thinking Monday," he said. "You still in the same place?"

  Bonnie said, "No, we moved. We're in Cambridge, off Mass Ave." She gave him the address.

  "You winging it on your own? . . . Or someone else stepped in?"

  "No, just me and Bert and the cat," she said.

  +++

  On Saturday afternoon Christian found a library in Battendorf, Iowa, and checked on Thad. The Idaho State Journal had a story from the morning.

  Pocatello Man Shot Thursday Removed From Life Support, Owned Area Fitness Clubs

  April 14, 2017—Pocatello fitness club owner Thad Simmons , who was shot Thursday in a Yellowstone Avenue attack, was removed from life support last night and has died, authorities said.

  Simmons, 47, had left his office at the Broadway Fit health club at approximately 5 pm and had gotten into his car when he was shot at close range in the facility's parking lot, police said.

  Simmons was taken to Pontneuf medical center where he was placed on life support. A decision to remove him was made last night before midnight, according to a hospital spokesperson.

  Police have released no further details about the killing. Simmons had been a Pocatello resident since 2003. From 2005-2011 he was an adjunct professor i
n the business school at Idaho State.

  Simmons opened Broadway Fit in 2006 and added a smaller gym on Clark Street in 2009 and another in Chubbuck in 2014. Plans are reportedly underway for expansion to Twin Falls and Boise.

  Christian was thinking it was good they didn't tell you the details of who exactly made the call on pulling the plug. That would have been hard to take.

  Hopefully the police might connect Thad ballistically to the pickup truck guy and stay busy figuring out who would have had something against both of them. The main thing, he didn't make it, thank God.

  Outside the library he called Floyd. "Everything quiet on Broderick Street?"

  "I'm enjoying your pad," Floyd said.

  "Anyone drop by at all?"

  "Yeah, well, a few people. You don't mind, right?"

  "No, that's fine, I mean anyone we don't know."

  "Nah."

  "How about Birgitte, the AWOL husband thing?"

  "I didn't ask her, but she hasn't seemed that concerned about it."

  "Well you're a stabilizing influence then . . . I'm going to see Bonnie."

  "Then put in a word for me too," Floyd said. "I've been bad, I haven't seen her in a year-and-a-half."

  "Will do," Christian said.

  He figured what the heck and called Bethany. "How's the squash?" he said. "Have you been using the tactic I suggested, elevating the ball more?"

  "I wasn't sure I'd be hearing from you," she said.

  "Well I guess you did me a favor. The cards on the table, and what have you . . . Kim seem okay?"

  "She seems good. Chris, I have to run."

  "What for?"

  "I have to finish packing and get to the airport. I've got next week off. I'm going to Dallas."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "A girlfriend invited me down. She just bought a new house there, actually in Plano. You wouldn't believe what you get for your money."

  "Have a safe flight," he said.

  +++

  That night he phoned Kim from Elkhart, Indiana. She said, "I'm sitting here watching TV on a Saturday night, so needless to say I'm very glad you called."

  "What's on?" he said.

  "I'm missing you in that . . . special way . . . also."