bar.”
“It’s all right,” I said.
Frank went to the back. The room was starting to spin and I felt like I was going to pass out for real. Without my coat on, I jogged down the block to the Korean deli. I bought a large coffee, a couple of those little carrot cakes, two Snickers bars, and two packs of Starburst. I figured that filling myself up with sugar and caffeine might be the only thing to keep me awake.
When I got back to the bar Frank was sitting at a table across from a fat man with curly brown hair. I’d never seen the guy before, but I knew right away that he was the detective Frank had hired.
The guy was wearing a big black winter jacket, jeans, and work boots. He looked over at me for a second, then he looked back at Frank. Over the reggae music, I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, although a couple of times I heard him say “Debbie.” But I wasn’t worried. If the detective saw Debbie going into my apartment today, he would have come to talk to me by now. I sat down at the bar with my coffee and opened one of the carrot cakes. Looking straight ahead, I was watching Frank and the detective in the mirror behind the bar, and there was a break in the music so I picked up on more of their conversation.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” the detective was saying. “I went back to the building and the doorman said he didn’t see her go in. I hung out awhile, for maybe an hour, but she didn’t come back.”
“Well, what can you do?” Frank said. “You’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll catch her,” the detective said. “I just need another day or two and tomorrow I’m gonna wear a disguise so she won’t see me.”
“Do whatever you have to do,” Frank said.
After they bullshitted for a little while longer, Frank and the detective stood up and shook hands. Then the detective left the bar without looking in my direction. Frank came over and sat down on the stool next to me.
“That was the guy I told you I hired to follow Debbie.”
“He find anything out?”
“He saw her leaving the building this afternoon, probably on her way to meet one of her lover boys, when she stopped and told a cop that some guy was following her. So the cop stopped Fred—that’s his name—and by the time Fred explained what was going on, Debbie was gone—in a cab.”
“That really sucks Easter eggs, huh?” I said.
“I just hope this guy Fred knows what he’s doing—Gil, lemme get one on the rocks—I mean he’s a professional so he should know.”
“I don’t think you gotta worry,” I said. “Knowing the way Debbie gets around I bet he’ll get some good pictures for you to use in no time.”
Now Frank was staring off. I realized I’d probably said the wrong thing.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s all right. You’re just telling the goddamn truth.”
Gil put down Frank’s drink. Frank took a long sip then said, “You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but in a way I still love her. Pretty pathetic, huh?”
“No, I understand,” I said. “I mean she’s your wife, you share the same bed...”
“I know you’re right,” Frank said. “You’ve always been right, giving me good advice, but I never had the sense to listen to you. The shrinks have a name for what I’m talking about—Jesus, I swear, my fuckin’ mind’s going.”
“But you know what I think?” I said. “I think once she’s out of the picture you’ll forget all about her. You’ll be out there in Arizona with all those beautiful women—you’ll find somebody who’ll treat you a lot better than Debbie ever did.”
“You ever seen me in swimming trunks? It’s not a pretty sight.”
“Come on, I’m sure you look great,” I said. “And a guy like you, from New York, you’ll have no problem at all.”
“No, I think Debbie was the best I’ll ever get.”
“You gotta be kiddin’ me. What you gotta do is start moving up. I’m serious. Instead of looking for women in their forties, look for women in their fifties and sixties, maybe even in their seventies. Arizona’s like Florida. They got all those rich widows down there, waiting for a guy to come along. And once you get that bar going, forget about it—you’ll have a woman for every night of the week.”
“Co-dependent,” Frank said.
“What?”
“That’s the word I was thinking of before—I’m co-dependent. I like to be with sick, fucked-up women because I’m sick and fucked up myself. I never told you this before, but my first wife was an alcoholic too. She wasn’t as bad as Debbie, but she was close. My point is maybe the problem’s me, not her—maybe any woman would run around on me. Maybe I should call off the divorce and try to patch things up.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Why not? You know, most of the problems we have are all because of booze. If I could just get her to lay off, maybe we could go get some counseling, try to work things out—”
“You’re not serious, I hope.”
“No, I wish I was, but I know it’s too late. I’ll go through with the goddamn divorce, go out to cactus country and see what life has in store for me. But I’m telling you—I don’t think anything I find out there’ll be better than what I have in front of me right now.”
Frank took another swig of his vodka-tonic. I stood up and stretched.
“So I guess Gary’s not coming in tonight, huh?” I said.
“Haven’t seen or heard from him since Monday,” Frank said. “His tape picks up when I call—for all I know he left New York. But I’ll tell you one thing—I’m glad you’re taking over the bar instead of him. The damn kid is just too unreliable. I need somebody running this bar I can trust.”
“You can trust me.”
“I know I can. You’re probably the only person in the world I can trust right now. Jesus, you look like you’re about to fall down. Why don’t you go home?”
“That’s all right,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“No, I’m serious. I mean I appreciate you coming in here when you’re feeling like this, but it’s gonna be a slow night—Gil can proof at the bar—”
“Forget about it,” I said, patting Frank on the back.
I went into the bathroom and passed out. I came to a few seconds later with a nice bruise on my ass. I splashed cold water on my face.
Eating the Snickers bar and the second carrot cake gave me a boost. I was hoping it would be a slow night, but some fuckin’ kid picked tonight of all nights to celebrate his twenty-first birthday and he had to do it at O’Reilley’s. College kids were spilling in all night—most of them looked eighteen or nineteen, and some looked younger, but I was too tired to do my job right. I just sat on my stool, waving everybody in, even a kid with a bogus Jersey license that looked like it was made on a computer.
I drank a couple of Cokes to keep the caffeine coming, but at around 11:30 I couldn’t take it anymore. I told Frank I was taking off and I headed down First Avenue.
The wind had picked up and the temperature must have dropped another ten degrees. It was probably in the teens now, heading down into the single digits. My hands and feet were frozen stiff and it felt like I had icicles on my face. I was starting to get a sore throat.
I was turning the corner onto my block when I realized what deep shit I could be in. This afternoon I’d parked my car in front of a hydrant. If the cops towed it away I didn’t know how I’d get rid of the body.
I jogged up the block and thank God the car was still there. It was like a fuckin’ miracle—I didn’t even get a ticket.
Amazingly, the engine caught on the first try. I drove up the block and double-parked in front of my building. Leaving the engine running, I went inside. I was dizzy, going up the stairs. In my apartment, I spread the blanket down on the floor and then I lifted Debbie up. She was already stiff and purple, but for some reason her body was warm. I was about to get the pillow to finish her off, when I realized that she only felt warm because my hands were so fucking freezing.
I let out a deep breath and smiled, thinking this would all seem very funny someday.
