of the getaway car - chop it down? repaint it back there? drive it into the back of a moving van, dump it in the swamp one night?'
She didn't answer me. Just watched.
'All that money just sitting there. Clean, unmarked bills. Probably two or three good jobs stashed in one place. Couple of hundred grand, minimum. Wouldn't be the first time somebody turned around and hit the syndicate. Hijackers aren't like numbers runners - that's why they don't make good employees.'
I took a last drag, stubbed out the butt. Feeling her eyes burn on my skin.
'Whoever set this up, it's a big operation. Costs a lot of cash to front. The syndicate probably takes a piece from every hijacking at the airport. That's the way they'd do it. I know how things work. All the young mob guys want to do today is move product. They leave the armored cars and the banks to the independents.'
I lit another cigarette, thinking back to the way I used to be. Telling the truth, the way she wanted it.
'A good thief, he can't stand to see a big lump of cash sitting around. Just a matter of time before some crew takes a shot.'
Belle took the cigarette away from me again, put it to her lips. A red dot glowed in front of my face. Two more in her eyes.
'You didn't answer me, Burke. Tell me what I want. Tell me the truth.'
'You want me to hijack the cash.'
I saw her right shoulder drop, but I kept my eyes on her face. Her hand came around in a blur, her little clenched fist catching me high on the cheekbone just under the eye. She drew back her fist again. 'That's enough,' I said.
Her mouth trembled. The firelights went out of her eyes. She pulled away from me, fell face-down on her big white bed. Cried softly to herself as I pulled some ice cubes from the refrigerator. I wrapped the ice cubes in a towel and held it to my face. Sat by the phone.
48
When I woke up, it was past four o'clock in the morning. My jacket was soaking wet on the left side. I snatched the phone. Dial tone.
'It didn't ring.' A soft voice from the bed. 'I've been listening since you fell asleep.'
'Thanks.'
'I'll stay by the phone now. When you get where you're going, you can call me. If you don't get your call by then, you can switch the numbers, okay?'
'Yeah.'
'I've got an electric heater: it gets cold by the water in the winter. You can dry your clothes first.'
I pulled off my jacket, unbuttoned my shirt. Belle came off the bed. I handed them to her. 'Your face is swollen,' she said, her voice a breathy whisper, the way you tell a secret.
'It's no big deal. Nothing's broken.'
'My heart is broken,' she said. Like she was saying it was Wednesday morning.
'Belle . . .'
'Don't say anything. It's my fault. I made a mistake. I wanted a hard man. A hard man, not a cold man.'
I lit a smoke. She came back over to me, her voice sad now. Sad for all of us. 'Not a cold man, Burke. Not a man who wouldn't take my love.'
'I just . . .'
'Yeah, I know. You think telling the truth's not a game for a woman to play.'
'That's not it.'
'No?' she challenged, her little-girl's voice laced with acid. 'You think I couldn't find a cowboy to stick up a liquor store for me? You don't think I could pussy-whip some guido into picking up a gun? Sweet-talk some cockhound into showing me what a big man he is?'
'I know you could.'
Belle stalked the room, unsnapping the suspender straps, pulling the T-shirt over her head, unhooking the bra. She worked the zipper, pulled the white pants over her hips. She sat down on the bed. Unlaced her sneakers, threw them into a corner. She went over to the kitchen corner, where my shirt and jacket were stretched on coat hangers, baking in the glow from the electric heater. She picked up my shirt. 'It'll dry better this way,' she said, slipping into it. She tried to button it; it wouldn't close over her breasts.
She fell to her knees beside me, hands on my thigh, looking up at my face.
'Can we have another chance?'
'Who's 'we'?'
'You and me.'
'To do what?'
'To tell the truth. Let me tell you the truth. The real truth. I swear on my mother,' she whispered, one hand making an X on her breast. 'That's my sacred oath.'
'Belle . . .'
'Don't hurt me like this, Burke. I'd never hurt you. You don't know what I want. You don't have any idea. Let me say what I have to say.'
She got to her feet, held out her hand.
I took it.
She pulled me to her bed. 'Sit down,' she said. She took a fat black candle, grounded it in a glass ashtray, positioned it on top of the headboard of the bed. 'Light it,' she said.
I fired a wooden match. I heard a click - the electric heater snapping off. Belle laid back on the bed, her hands behind her head. I sat next to her, watching the tiny candle flame.
'This is the truth,' she began. 'I grew up in a little place you never heard of. In South Florida. Just me, my father, and my big sister. Sissy. We lived on the edge of the swamp in a tiny house. Not much bigger than this one. My father did a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Like everyone there. Grew some vegetables out back. Made some liquor. There was a mill nearby - he'd work when they had work. Shoot him some gator for the hides. Fix boats. We lived poor, but nice. When my father would make a good score, he'd always buy something for the house. Had a big old freezer, nice color TV. Good boat too. Mercury outboard.' Her voice trailed off, remembering. I lit a cigarette, handed it to her.
'I was always told my mother died giving birth to me. Sissy really raised me - took care of me - my father never paid me any attention.'
She took a drag on the cigarette, looking at the dark ceiling.
'I was a big, tall girl, even when I was real young. And skinny too - you believe that?'
'Sure.'
'I was. Like a board. Ugly old skinny girl with no kind of face at all. Sissy was pretty once. You could tell by looking at her in the morning light. Sissy was hard on me. I had to do my chores sharp, or she'd let me know it. Homework too. We had a school, all the kids together in one class. Sissy made sure I did my homework. Always sent me to school clean, no matter how things were at home. She never had a new dress in all the time I knew her. Said it didn't matter to her. She had nice night-gowns, though. She caught me trying one on once and she took a switch to me so hard I didn't want to sit down for a couple of days. Anything she had, she'd give to me. Except those nightgowns. Or her perfume.' She took another drag.
'My father never much bothered with me. Once in a while, I'd do something to make him notice me. Pay some attention to me. He didn't care if I did my homework, but he had to have his coffee just so: dark coffee with a big dollop of cream across the top; he never mixed it.
'I talked back to him once. He grabbed my arm, pulled off his belt to give it to me. Sissy jumped in between us, kitchen knife in her hand. The devil was in her face - you could see it. You never put a hand on that child, she told him.
'He backed off. Told her I had it coming, but he wouldn't look her in the face. Sissy said if I had something coming
'Sissy ripped the belt out of his hands, dragged me outside to the back. You better yell now, she told me.
