Lucas drowsed through the other channels, wishing he had cable, but that took a more complete identity. They’d be watching carefully for him to create an identity.
Lucas paused on a group of half-naked people shooting flaming arrows at a coconut, a commercial for another television show. He’d seen the show, people with various personality deficiencies dropped in a jungle and trying to outthink another group of the similarly afflicted.
Everything was so stupid. But some of the women were hotties, one in particular, a blonde who wore a leather thong around her neck, like a collar. She always looked wet and sticky, like she was sweating honey.
I’ll make you sweat, hon…
Lucas masturbated into yesterday’s underwear, then stretched out on his sleeping bag, crossing his arms behind his head. He’d gone to a sporting goods store and bought a sleeping bag and an inflatable mattress. If, for some reason, he had to vacate quickly, the bag would be useful beneath a bridge or wherever he would hide.
He couldn’t let it come to that. This was his game and he had to avoid mistakes. Like attending that damn funeral. But there were protocols to be observed. The Ritual of Condolence. The respect due one who has passed away.
He owed Taneesha Franklin. She was an innocent.
Lucas owed Dr. Rudolnick for many things, but not his life. The psychiatrist hadn’t blundered into the fire, but made it his choice. Granted, he’d not had much latitude in his choices. That was the way it had always worked.
Lucas felt anger rising from deep in his groin, heating his belly. Felt his jaw clench, hands ball into fists.
“The clouds, Lucas,” Rudolnick said from just behind Lucas’s ear. “Let the anger drift away on the clouds.”
Lucas let the calm wash through him for several minutes. He stood and took his position behind his most important purchase, a Celestron C5 with the 1.25-inch, 10mm eyepiece, the best spotter’s scope in the sporting goods store, an optical marvel. It was dark in Racine Kincannon’s office, the lights off, a silver flask of whiskey on his desk. Lucas cranked the lens to a higher power. Saw a TV monitor on a credenza, a woman giving a guy head. A porn flick, Racine Kincannon at work.
Crandell would be out on the streets, searching. A humiliated Crandell, not a pleasant thought. It might not be good to go out in the day, but Lucas crept down the back steps, got in his car, a simple Subaru Outback, two years old, bought with cash. He would have loved to keep one of the machines delivered to the Hooleys-or another from the fine selection in the Quonset hut-but the Subaru was anonymous. It had dealer tags, two more weeks before they expired.
Lucas drove to a phone on the outside wall of a convenience store, hoping Racine had finished his business. Probably on the underside of his desk.
“Hello, Race, long time no see.”
Silence. Lucas smiled and wished he could make some reference to the porn flick.
“How ya doin’, Lucas?” Racine finally said, a theatrical drawl in his voice covering his bewilderment. Just like Racine Kincannon, Lucas thought, always playing the good ol’ boy who somehow got stuck in a two-thousand-dollar suit.
“I’m fine, Racine. Nice out here.”
“Y’know, Lucas, you still got some treatment coming before you can, uh, get out.”
Racine pretending Lucas had a bad case of bronchitis. “Another week of antibiotics and you’ll kick that little problem, son.”
“Gee, I don’t believe parts of that, Race. The getting-out part especially.”
“This is hard on all of us, Lucas. We should talk. Meet somewhere.”
“I saw Crandell recently, you know.”
The silence told Lucas that Racine hadn’t heard of the event at the funeral parlor. Excellent. Crandell didn’t boast of his failures, which was helpful to Lucas’s plan.
“When was that, Lucas?” Racine said, a lousy rendition of blase in his voice.
“A couple days back. We spoke for a bit. He’s added a couple pounds, cut a couple inches off his hair, changed his cologne to something heavier. But it was the Crandell of old.”
Silence. The weight, hair, and cologne information would verify that Lucas had indeed met Crandell. Lucas could almost hear the gears turning in Racine Kincannon’s head. Slowly, like they were coated with rust, but grinding nonetheless.
Lucas said, “I guess the next question is, Why am I still here? You know Crandell’s success rate. I was asking myself that question. You know what I come up with, Racine?”
“I got an idea or two,” Racine said, defensive.
No you don’t, Race, Lucas thought. You’ve never had an idea in your life.
“What are your ideas, Race?”
“Why don’t you tell me yours,” Racine Kincannon suggested. “See if we’re on the same page.”
Lucas gave it a moment of dramatic pause. “I think I’ve got you to thank, Racine. I think you maybe came to a realization. You always were the thinker.”
Racine was blindsided. The silence again. Lucas said, “Did you hear me, Race? I said thanks. If you were a part of things, that is.”
Finally, Racine Kincannon said, “We really should talk, Lucas. Maybe it doesn’t have to be like this. Sometimes things that look good one day don’t look so good the next, you got me?”
“A lot of things look different out here, Racine. Maybe Crandell just screwed up. There were people around. But one second his hand is moving me to the car, the next minute I’m walking away. Coincidence, maybe. But if not, thanks, Racine. I’m thinking maybe you know the potency of a good alliance. Of course, the best alliance is where each partner is a specialist, right? Two talented people taking something to new heights.”
“You said two partners, Lucas.”
“Dos.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. I’ll call later.”
“Listen, Lucas, how about-”
Lucas hung up the phone. That would do for now. He jumped in the Subaru and drove back to his insecurities business. He sat at the desk and aimed the Celestron at the office building. The worst thing he could see would be a meeting of all the brothers, Crandell included. That would be a disaster.
Instead, he saw Racine Kincannon at his desk, door closed, pouring a drink from his ever-present flask. Lucas cranked the power up a notch and it was like looking into a flattened version of Racine Kincannon’s face from three feet away. Lucas saw indecision, which he’d expected, and fear, which he had hoped for. Then, after ten minutes, he saw a touch of smile, Racine Kincannon grinding his way to a decision.
“Thank you,” Lucas whispered to the man upstairs.
CHAPTER 26
A ringing. I could actually see the sound, like a train bearing down on me. Just before being slammed I opened my eyes and grabbed the bedside phone, fumbled it to my face, turned it right-side up.
“Nmh?”
“Carson, it’s Clair Peltier.”
“Mmph?”
“You’re not awake, I take it?”
I stifled a yawn, shook my head. “What time is it?”
“Six-forty. Since you’re obviously not at work, how about you stop by the morgue on your way in? I’ve dredged up some interesting information. Bring Harry, too.”
I blinked at the clock on the opposite bedside table as it blinked from 6:40 to 6:41.
“Answer me one question, Clair. When do you sleep?”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Ryder. See you in a few.”
