Killshot

had on a girl who recorded a song with him and I heard the record.”

“Maybe it was somebody imitating him.”

“You mean impersonating? There some that try to. But, see, I know Elvis’s voice and it was Elvis. There’s not a doubt in my mind.”

Armand wished she would sit back, she was too close for him to see anything.

“Why would he want to pretend he’s dead?”

“That’s something we’ll have to wait and see. I believe it will be revealed before too long, there too many people love him and miss him. And I believe it will happen at Graceland. Which is the main reason I want to go down there.”

“Why don’t you get Richie to take you?” “Richie doesn’t even like Elvis. He’s jealous of him. I don’t suppose you do either.” “What, like Elvis? Sure. I like that ‘Hound Dog’

song.” “ ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ is the one tears me up.” “That’s a nice one too.” Donna hummed some of it, moving her shoul

ders in the robe, her eyes half closed. She stopped, her eyes in the glasses open now, and said, “Bird, can I tell you something? I don’t know if I should but I want to.”

“Yeah, but don’t call me Bird.” “I’m sorry, I hear Richie . . .” “You want, you can call me Armand.” She said, “Armand,” in a soft voice. “That’s a

real nice name.” Then livened up her tone saying, “Hey, I’m not being very polite. Can I get you something, a snack?”

“No, I don’t think so.” “I got a can of cocktail weenies I could fix.” “Maybe later.” “I enjoy watching a man likes to eat.” She said,

“That Richie eats like a bird,” and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” There was something wrong with this woman’s

brain. Maybe the weight of all that hair on it. Armand said, “What is it you want to tell me?” Now she had those magnified eyes staring at him, wanting to trust him, or wanting to hold him

so he’d keep looking at her and believe her.

“I’m scared to death of Richie,” Donna said.

“Is that right? You let him stay here...”

“What choice do I have?”

Now she twisted her shoulders back and forth a couple of times like she was trapped in that robe and didn’t know what to do. She picked up one of the stuffed animals, Mr. Froggy, and held it against her raised knee so that it was looking at Armand.

He said, “It’s a nice place. I’m getting to like it.” He said, “It wouldn’t be too hard to get Richie out of here. Have you thought of that? What you’re doing? They could arrest you too, for harboring, ’ey? Unless you turn him in first.”

“I’d never do that.”

“It’s something to think about.”

“I got news for you, he’d find out I did.”

“Yeah, but if they put him away, so what?”

“They’d have to catch him first, and he’s slick. Even if they did, he’d get out. I don’t mean escape. He’d do a few years and then come looking for me.” Donna shook her head. “I would never snitch on him. I’m not that kind of person.”

“They got some pretty heavy stuff on him,” Armand said, “what sounds to me would get him life or worse. I don’t think you’d ever see him again.”

Donna was shaking her head. “I wouldn’t do it.

He said to me one time, if I ever even thought of calling the police on him he’d know it.”

Armand said, “You believe that?” And thought, Well, if she believes Elvis Presley is alive . . .

Of course she did. Cocking her head to the side as if thinking about it, then nodding with that dreamy look on her face, the one that was supposed to mean she knew things he didn’t. Believing in something—how did she say it?—beyond what you can know. He could see the inside curve of one of her breasts hanging there in the robe. It was elderly but not bad. The way she was sitting, he couldn’t see the dark place. Maybe if he moved back a little and tried it, getting a stuffed animal out from behind him. He glanced down. Ah, there it was.

She said, “You seem to have doubts.”

Armand shrugged. “I don’t see how he could know what you’re thinking.”

“He just would.”

“You mean ’cause of how you’re acting then, nervous?”

“I guess partly.”

“Listen, you don’t have to be afraid of him.”

Donna was still holding on to him with her eyes in the shining glasses. She said, “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”

He pushed against the back of the sofa to sit up, reached over and very gently lifted off her glasses to see her eyes naked. Donna didn’t move. She blinked. Now she was looking at him again, or seemed to be. She looked like a sister of the Donna before. Now she turned her head slightly and touched her pile of hair. Armand believed it was a gesture that meant she wouldn’t mind getting laid.

“No, I’m not afraid of him,” Armand said. “You know why?”

She was trying to give him a soft look with those cockeyed eyes. He didn’t know why seeing Donna without her glasses made him more aware of her being naked beneath the robe, but it did.

She said, “You’re bigger than he is,” lowered her head just enough and smiled, becoming a little imp now, this fifty-year-old woman and her Mr. Froggy, both looking at him.

He said, “You know who I am?”

“Who you are? Sure.”

“You know what I mean. Richie told you, didn’t he?”

“He said you’re from Toronto.”

“What else?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why can’t you say it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“The kind of thing I do for a living.”

“It isn’t none of my business.”

“Yeah, but Richie told you. Don’t he tell you everything he’s doing?”

“He brags a lot. You know Richie.”

“But he did tell you about me.”

“It really doesn’t matter,” Donna said. “I’ve enjoyed your company, I think you’re a nice person and, well, I wish you all the best.” She looked off at the room. “I don’t know—I hope you didn’t mind my cooking too much. It isn’t the easiest thing in the world, trying to please two different men.”

Armand said, “You think I’m leaving?”

“Well, I guess you will sometime.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing, really. I just, you know, have a feeling.”

“He told you what we’re doing?”

“No, uh-unh, he’s never said a word.” Donna shook her big hairdo back and forth, brushed Mr. Froggy from her knee and stared at him, those poor eyes of hers saying, Please believe me. She said, “I don’t know anything about your business and I don’t want to. I made those phone calls. . . . Richie says things, you never know if he’s giving you a bunch of bull or what, so I just let it go in one ear and out the other. I would never, ever,repeat anything that was said to me, whether I was told not to or I wasn’t. It’s just none of my business.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Not the least.”

“You seem nervous.”