Envy the Night

He unlocked the cabin door and went inside, washed up, and changed into a clean shirt. Then he put the suitcase aside and pulled a metal case onto the bed, flipped the latches and opened the lid, and withdrew the two holstered and well-oiled handguns beneath.

His father’s guns: a 10 mm Smith & Wesson and a .45-caliber Glock. They should have been the day’s project. He’d thought about taking the boat out to the right spot, Muskie Point, maybe, or somewhere among the stumps of Slaughterhouse Bay, and feeding the guns to the lake. It would be a most heavy-handed gesture, yes, but it was one he still wanted to make. He wanted to hold his father’s violence in his hands, feel the heft of it, and then leave it behind in a place without regrets, a place of clean memories.

They wouldn’t be sinking today. He knew that as he recalled Nora’s voice on the phone, all that excitement because she thought this meeting represented the end of the problem. Frank knew it was anything but that. Jerry was just another loose end, and, sadly, another loose end connected to Nora.

He had the Smith & Wesson in its shoulder holster and concealed under a thin jacket by the time Nora arrived.

Spend enough time around firearms, and they’ll fail to inspire the same sense of terror that might catch a novice, even when the weapon in question is pointed at your heart. Jerry wasn’t thrilled to see it, no, but he wasn’t about to wet his pants or anything, either. Guns were guns. Only thing to worry about was the man who held it. And that man hadn’t shot him yet.

“You don’t look happy to see me, Mr. Dolson,” AJ said, sliding his thumb up and down the stock of the gun the way he’d handled the vodka glass the day before.

“I’m not. We had an agreement, and this ain’t part of it. Why don’t you go on down to Kleindorfer’s and wait for me, like we planned?”

“You were down here with the girl,” AJ said. “Your boss. She have anything to tell you?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a bad liar, Mr. Dolson.”

Jerry worked his tongue over his teeth and steeled his eyes against the other man’s empty gaze.

“And you’re a Grade A piece of shit, buddy. Coming in here and beating up a woman.”

“I didn’t lay hands on anyone.”

“Then your buddy did. Which makes you both Grade A pieces of shit, all right? Now you get the damn gun out of my face and get on your way.”

“We had an agreement.”

“I don’t make agreements with people who beat up women.”

“All the same, one was made. And I’m going to need that tracking device.”

“Don’t have it.”

“Who does?”

He started to say Nora’s name, then stopped. It was wrong both ways; first of all, it might send these assholes back after her, and, second, she didn’t even have it. Thing was still sitting in his locker, waiting to go to the police.

“Put that gun down,” Jerry said.

“That will make you comfortable? Maybe then we can talk this through, work something out?”

Jerry wasn’t about to talk anything through, and any chance of working something out had ended the minute he heard what happened to Nora. He didn’t like staring into that tiny muzzle, though, so he nodded.

“Maybe we can.”

AJ pistol-whipped him in the face. Jerry had time to lean backward maybe six inches and half-lift the wrench in his hand before the gun caught him just under his right eye and knocked him back into the Lexus. His ribs slammed against the grille, the wrench fell from his hands, and then he took another blow from the gun, this one across the back of his head, right near the top of his neck. It brought him down almost to his knees, hanging on to the car to keep from hitting the floor. All wasted effort, though; the third swing was harder than the first two, and it took all the resistance out of him, left him stretched on his back with one leg hooked over the creeper, looking at the corrugated metal ceiling that now bloomed with a dozen colors.

Jerry watched the colors dance and bit down on the tip of his tongue, trying to clear his head. It didn’t work. He bit harder and tasted blood but still the room reeled, and when he felt someone moving his hands he could make only the slightest resistance. A cord bit into the flesh of one wrist, then the other. AJ was tying his hands.

“Is the girl coming back?”

Jerry didn’t say anything. When he tried to pull his hands forward, he felt unyielding resistance. He was tied to something. Maybe the Lexus. He heard AJ walking away, blinked hard, strained to lift his head. The gun was out of sight now, but AJ was at Jerry’s toolbox, had the drawers open, was lifting a ten-pound maul out. No, no, no. Put that thing down. Please put that thing down.

“Is the girl coming back?” AJ repeated, his back to Jerry as he hefted the maul, took a practice swing.

“Yeah.” Jerry’s head was clearing fast now, and the pain was no longer a presence in his mind.

“How long till she does?”

“Maybe an hour.”

“She go to the cops?” AJ was standing over Jerry, the maul held down against his thigh.

How to answer that? Instinct said to tell him no, but why? If the guy thought cops were on the way, maybe he’d cut this short. Was that a good thing, though?

“Mr. Dolson? Jerry, buddy? You want to give me an answer.”

Split the difference, maybe. Tell him she was planning to go the cops, but hadn’t yet. Was that good?

“She went to pick up that kid. I think they’re . . . could be they’ll go to the cops. But that ain’t my fault. That’s your buddy’s, man. You hit a woman, then knock a cop around like that, you’ve got to expect—”

“What kid?”

“One who jacked up your friend last night.”

“Why’s he involved?”

The pain was coming back now, but so was his sense of guilt. He shouldn’t be giving this asshole so much information. Shouldn’t be rolling over like this.

“Don’t know.”

There was a whistle of metal through air as the maul came down, and Jerry had just enough time to tense before it caught him square in the hip. A hellfire shot of pain cut through his leg and into his stomach, filled his chest. He arched his back and hissed through clenched teeth.

“Want to answer that one again?” AJ said.

“He thinks he knows something about you.”

“About me? How does he know something about me?”

“I’m not sure, man.” He had his eyes squeezed shut against the pain but still sensed the maul being lifted again, yelled out, “I don’t know, okay? She didn’t say. Just told me that she needed to talk to him to decide what to tell the cops. The kid thinks he understands something more than the police, and he thinks he knows where your boy went, the one drove this car.”

“He knows where to find him?”

“I think so.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a lying piece of shit. Where?” The maul was drawn back again, and as much as Jerry wanted to look strong, he couldn’t help but cower.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“But she knows.”

“Yes. Maybe. I mean, the kid says he knows.”

“And she went to get the kid. Where was she going to pick him up?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying again. Where did she go?”

AJ’s voice had intensified, and this time Jerry knew he had to shut up. Had to. If he told this asshole, the guy was going to leave immediately, chase after Nora. Jerry wasn’t about to do that to her. No