CHAPTER NINETEEN
BREEZE
"What are your plans?"
We sat at the kitchen table, one big family; Tina, Tyler and me. And one unwanted guest: Rollins. He had come in as we were sitting down for breakfast, bringing a gift of coffee and croissants, which was appreciated. His staying was not.
I lifted a cup to my family. "They are. They're my long-term plan, my mid-term plan, my short-term plan. My eternal plan."
He nodded and took a bite. "What about Teresa?"
"No room at the table."
"There are other tables."
"You already know what about her," I said. "Jim's in jail, no thanks to you. She should be on her way out of the city by now."
"Why don't you make sure?"
I put down the cup. "Because I don't care. My job's finished. I plan to stay right here...forever."
"That's a long time."
"Anytime I'm not with them is just as long. I don't care what happens. I want to be here for them."
"What do you think will happen if you're not here?"
"Doesn't matter what will happen or won't," I said. "I'll be here for both."
He looked me in the eye. "Trace, if something is going to happen it won't matter if you're here or not."
I distanced my chair from the table and stood. "Is that some kind of threat?"
"It is what it is," he said. He exhaled his frustration and stood with me. "Trace, remember where you are. Remember who you are. You're only one man, and not even that. You might need some help now and then."
"I think I'm doing just fine by myself."
"Okay," he said without emotion. "But before you stay here, forever, do me a favor."
"Don't ask."
He did anyway. "Check on Teresa. One last time. Then you can do whatever you want."
“Really?”
“Promise.”
"She's probably long gone."
"Probably. Check on her."
"Yeah, sure."
"Promise."
I nodded without swearing to the heavens or looking at him, so I didn't seem him leave. I just heard his last words: "Enjoy your breakfast."
So I did.
We laughed and talked and enjoyed each other's company. I couldn't remember when Tina enjoyed mine more. After, off to school with Tyler, then a short stop for groceries with Tina, then back home and a few minutes of housework before I was out the door for a final check on Teresa.
I already knew before I walked in the bungalow that she would still be there. Rollins wouldn't have made the trip for nothing. Even so, I felt a twinge of disappointment. The feeling of planning a party and having nobody show, but the reverse: Planning an exodus and having nobody leave. Despite that, I wasn't about to make a day of it. Check on her was all I'd promised. I was checking.
She was packing. She was smoking. She was stoned, lost in the hazy outskirts of Reefer Town, Population: One. Or less.
She stopped in the midst of her activity, which amounted to looking bleary-eyed at the mess on the bed. She sat down, head to wall, eyes closed and mind gone. A ratty brown suitcase lay on the floor, a few items of clothing rolled inside. Dirty panties and shorts and shirts and skirts thrown in for her pilgrimage to parts unknown. Other clothes were heaped in a pile nearby, ready to pack or discard.
I wondered as she blew smoke into my face if it would make any difference if she knew how important her life was to the invisible people around her.
"Going somewhere?"
We jumped at the same time. Jim stood in the doorway.
Teresa coughed out her doobie, which bounced off the mattress and fell to the floor, scattering ashes.
Jim walked over to the suitcase and kicked it against the wall. "I'm gone for a few days and you start packing? Didn't you know where I was?"
"How did you...?"
"I have friends. Sometimes they do me favors; lend me their car, plan a murder, bail me out of jail. You need friends like that, especially when your girl doesn't give a rat's ass or if you're dead."
"I didn't know—"
He roared and pulled her off the bed. She landed hard on her back, her wind gone. "Don't lie to me. Don't stay another word. Just get out. We need money."
Teresa gasped for air until it came. After a moment she began to move, then stood, then walked out crying.
"Don't come back without a hundred," Jim said after her. He walked to the suitcase, picked it up, shook out the contents and kicked them under the bed, then dropped the suitcase on the floor where it landed open-mouthed before following Teresa out of the bungalow.
She went one way, he went the other. I followed the other, but I wasn't happy about it. Not only did my plans for the two of them fall apart, but Jim was walking around free and a threat to my family. But that wasn’t going to last. If I had to move heaven and earth, I would see Jim dead before the week was out. I just had to figure out how.
He walked to a phone in front of a Laundromat, fished in his pocket, brought out change, hunted on his palm, dropped coins into the slot, dropped the rest in his pants. He dialed a number, waited, then dialed three more. I knew it by heart, now. He was calling Brent Hewitt.
"Remember me? Don't hang up, we have unfinished business. I don't care where you are, this is the time. Same place, same time. No, tomorrow. You heard me. No, I think it's the perfect place to pick up what you owe. You just be there."
He hung up, chuckling, then fished in his pocket, brought up change, hunted, dropped coins in the slot, dropped change in his pocket. He began dialing again.
I didn't really catch it at first, but as he dialed I recognized the pattern. Area code I ignored, but then the first after that, and the second, the third, the fourth. Coincidence, I thought. But then the fifth, the sixth, and the coincidence became too great, the odds could not withstand it. Then came the seventh and I started shaking like I'd won the lottery.
It was my home number.
With an effort I moved toward the man, making sure not to come in contact, and leaned forward, ear to receiver, hoping there had been a mistake.
"Hello."
It was Tina's voice. No mistake. A horrible mistake.
"Thought you'd heard the last of me, I'll bet. You know what I want, and I plan on getting it tomorrow."
"It's not enough time," she said, voice breaking.
"That's your problem, isn't it? I'm sure a thousand won't be that difficult to come up with for someone like you. Just take it out of your husband's life insurance. Tomorrow. See you at home."
He hung up and walked off.
I threw my head in the phone. "Tina, Tina, hello!" But the line was dead.
I ran after Jim in blind rage and began swinging my fists again and again, grabbing for his throat, his eyes, his heart. But a few seconds later found me standing and cursing after him as he walked unhurt down the sidewalk.
Wild thoughts flew through my mind.
I have to get moving, I have to get home, I have to protect Tyler, I have to kill Jim, I have to see Teresa, I have to talk to Tina, I have to call Rollins.
But it was too much, too overwhelming, and my impotence loomed over me like a huge accusing finger pointing down at me. Everything I’d done had amounted to nothing, all of my plans had only made things worse. Tina and Tyler were in danger and I had no idea what to do next.
Trace the Dead Eye Page 19
