“Until we get to downtown it is, but the North Dallas Toll Road will be faster from that point on. I think I can swing a few dollars for such a special occasion.”
As Murray began driving toward the interstate, an awkward silence pervaded the cab. It was a couple of minutes before the silence was broken.
Like Erica, Kevin must have noticed the fresh aroma in the pickup. “What’d you do? Quit smoking?”
“As a matter of fact, it’ll be four years this October.” He lowered his voice slightly, indicating that he was speaking to Erica. “I was a two pack a day smoker since I was a teenager. Except for losing Nick’s mother, it was the hardest thing I ever went through.”
Erica cringed, waiting for Kevin to correct his name, but he was quiet.
“So Nick,” Murray said, “what are your hobbies now? I know you don’t shoot anymore.”
Erica glanced at Kevin, puzzled.
“Not since high school,” Kevin said.
“Shooting?” Erica said. “As in guns.”
“Nick didn’t tell you?”
“Dad! She isn’t interested.”
But Murray went on. “I used to take Nick hunting. He was a good shot, so I got him to compete. He did damn well until he dropped it, even won a few trophies. I still have them at home if you ever want them, Nick, but I do get a kick out of showing them to people.”
“What kind of guns?” Erica asked.
“Pistol mostly. Rifle and shotgun, too, but all his trophies were for pistol. If he’d practiced like I wanted him to, he would’ve been even better. It was about the only thing he was good at when he was a teenager, that and those damn video games. And thank God he was, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to win awards in any other sports.”
Kevin let an exasperated sigh, but said nothing.
Erica kept quiet, not wanting to push it, but Murray didn’t seem to need encouragement.
“I mean, if he’d started lifting weights like I told him to, he’d have made one hell of a linebacker. But he was never interested, didn’t mind staying an overweight wimp. That’s why I was so surprised when I saw him today. First time he’s looked normal in his whole life.”
It seemed like the conversation was taking a turn that would upset Kevin, so Erica tried to change the subject.
“So, Murray, do you live on this side of town?”
Outbound traffic on the other side of the freeway was jammed, but luckily the direction they were headed moved along smoothly.
“No, we live out on the east side actually. Or I should say I do. Nick’s mother died about five years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Erica said.
“Five years may seem like a long time to you since you’re so young. But to me I remember her like it was almost yesterday.”
At that, Kevin let out a dismissive cluck.
“What was that for?” said Murray.
“You could barely remember your name at the time. How could you possibly remember mom?”
“You mean the drinking? I gave that up when I found out your mother had pancreatic cancer.” Erica winced internally, knowing how vicious pancreatic cancer was. Kevin’s mother probably didn’t live long after the diagnosis. “I didn’t have time after that to sit around drinking beer.”
“Yeah, I know how busy you were,” Kevin said. “You didn’t even have time to call me and tell me she was sick. You knew for two months, and you didn’t have the decency to tell me. I wouldn’t have known except for that fluke call from the hospital.”
“I know your mother explained to you why I didn’t tell you.”
“What? That she didn’t want to disrupt my studies? Bullshit! She said that to cover your ass.”
“Nick, I tried to come clean at the funeral, but you wouldn’t listen. Jesus, why would I want to keep something like that from you? I begged her to let me tell you, but she never would have forgiven me. She thought your education was too important to screw up.”
“You thought it wasn’t serious, and you thought I’d overreact when I found out. She told me she didn’t even get chemotherapy, for God’s sake.”
“And I thought you knew your mother better than that. She read up on pancreatic cancer. She didn’t want to go through all that chemotherapy crap just to live another month. It wasn’t her way.”
“Whatever you want to believe,” Kevin said.
“Boy, you
“To tell the truth,” Erica said, “we are. Someone should probably know in case…something happens.”
“Well, it can’t be trouble with the police, seeing as how they just let you go. Do you kids owe money to someone?”
Kevin looked out the side window, brooding. Erica knew that the issues between him and Murray weren’t going to be worked out on this short trip, so she let Kevin sulk.
“No, it’s not that simple. Some men are after us. We think we know why, but we still don’t know who. They want something that we have. The place you’re taking us has equipment that will help us get out of this.”
“Okay,” said Murray. He seemed reluctant to go into any more depth on the subject, and Erica didn’t push it.
Up ahead, a sign showed the exit for the North Dallas Toll Road.
“How long until we get there,” Erica said. Her watch read 6:22. Rain was just starting to spatter against the windshield.
“About 30 minutes if we don’t hit any traffic. I’d go faster, but the toll road always has plenty of cops during rush hour. We’d never make it if we got stopped.”
Erica smiled. “I think I’ve had enough of the police for one afternoon.”
Thirty minutes later, they were still ten minutes from LuminOptics. A wreck on the toll road had slowed traffic, but it could have been worse. Erica had been stuck in traffic for an hour several times while she had been in Houston, and she’d heard Dallas was no better.
At 7:03 they pulled into the almost deserted LuminOptics parking lot. The facility was located in the middle of Greenmont, a long, dead-end street off Abrams Rd. Similar squat warehouse-type buildings lined the street. Like LuminOptics, most of the parking lots allowed open access to the street, but a ten-foot-high chain-link fence separated the rear delivery lot from the front, as well as the LuminOptics lot from the one next to it.
Only one car remained in the lot, and Erica prayed that it was the sales rep’s. Activity at the other buildings along the street was nonexistent.
Murray stopped the pickup in front of the building. It was pouring now. Kevin hopped out, scurried through the rain to the front alcove, and knocked on the door. A man in his early fifties opened it. Erica cracked the window.
“You Kevin Hamilton?” the man said.
Erica was relieved; it was the same wavering voice she’d spoken with this afternoon.
“Yes, and that’s Erica Jensen,” he said, pointing toward the truck.
“I was about to give up on you two,” the sales rep said. “I was just locking up the place when you knocked. Come on in.”
Kevin ran back to the truck and picked up his backpack.
“All right,” he said to Murray. “We can take it from here. Have a good life.” Kevin began to turn and walk away.
“Will you call me sometime…Kevin?” Murray asked.
Kevin turned back and stared at him. “I don’t know,” Kevin said, surprising Erica because it wasn’t a flat refusal. Then he walked into LuminOptics.
“What are you going to do now?” Murray said.
“We can call a cab. We’ll be all right now. Thanks for getting us here in time.”
“I was glad to do it. And I’d like to ask you to do something to return the favor.”
