After the Rain

and called to her dad. “Dad, I need to use the bathroom.”

Is there a bathroom she can use?” Broker called.

“Sure, it’s right in here,” Dale pointed to the doorway in the partition. “Sometimes you got to flush it twice.”

She nodded and went through the door and shut it behind her. Almost immediately Dale heard her playing with the toilet, flushing it twice. Then after a few moments, she flushed it again.

By the time she had finished in the bathroom and was back out standing by the desk, Broker came back.

Dale watched him closely. The guy was trying to act interested in machinery but what he was really doing was scoping out the Missile Park across the road. Looking for signs of his runaway old lady.

If that’s what she really was. Jeeez-if the wife could be a cop, this guy could be a cop too.

“Well, thanks for letting me look around,” Broker said.

“Any time. Like I said. There’s not much left. I’m about to the pull the plug.”

They said goodbye to the heavyset, moonfaced guy and walked out to the Explorer. Kit looked up at her dad and said, “That guy’s weird.”

“Why do you say that?” Broker said.

“Well, he told me this story about cows and farts.”

“Yeah?” A little more alert, Broker looked at the thickset man standing in the doorway.

“And when I went to the bathroom…”

“He didn’t do anything weird then, honey. I was watching him. He was sitting at the desk the whole time.”

“No, it was something that was in the bathroom. The toilet wasn’t flushed.”

Broker nodded in vague sympathy.

“No, Dad. There was this blue poop in the toilet.”

Broker grinned. “That’s probably Lysol bowl cleaner, you squirt it around the edge to clean-”

“No, Dad.” Kit stamped her foot and folded her arms across her chest. Peeved, she continued. “You’re not listening. There was this blue poop floating in the water. It was yucky.”

“If you say so.”

Kit turned away, hugged herself tight around the chest, and raised her chin in a haughty display of disapproval. “Dad. You are not taking me seriously.”

“Okay. I don’t know about blue poop. But I do know that when little girls crank their stuck-up noses in the air, they gotta watch out so birds don’t drop white poop on them.”

Kit glowered and kicked at the trap rock in the driveway.

“Sometimes you’re not a very nice daddy.”

“C’mon, honey,” Broker said. “Time’s getting close.”

Exactly an hour after he left, Joe Reed drove up and parked his van. He came into the shed wearing fresh jeans, a clean oatmeal-colored Carhartt T-shirt, and all his scars washed. Musta taken one of his cat baths in his van. He saw the loader. “No sale, huh?”

“She’s a boat anchor. Leave it for scrap.”

Joe looked up suddenly and cocked his head. Nothing wrong with his hearing. If anything, his other disabilities had made it more acute. Because Dale heard stuff just fine, and he didn’t hear it until seconds later.

“Plane coming in,” Joe said.

Chapter Nineteen

Nina woke up alone-not just in Ace’s bed, but in an empty apartment over an empty bar. No smiling Ace handing her coffee. In fact, no coffee.

She had spent a second chaste night in Ace’s bed and he had slept on the couch. They had gone to dinner yesterday and to a movie at the refurbished Roxy Theater in town. Signs, with Mel Gibson. Then they’d gone out for a single beer afterwards at the bowling alley and talked about the movie. Like a date. She had been willing to kiss him at the conclusion to the evening, but he had stepped away.

Not yet, he’d said with less of his usual gallantry than tangible distraction. Was he losing interest? Was he coming around to Gordy’s suspicious way of thinking? Did it matter? She was getting antsy, too. She assumed that Holly was checking this Khari guy five different ways. So something might roll out tonight. Which was fine, because her game with Ace and Gordy was running out of steam. She’d just have to ride out the day. Later this morning she would call Broker to see how things went with Kit. Right now she wanted a cup of coffee.

She showered fast, threw on a summer shift, and went downstairs just as Gordy came in through the front door carrying a bag of groceries. Seeing her, a malevolent smile smeared his hairy lips. His beady eyes darted around the room and Nina could practically read the thought bubble over his head.

They were alone.

She ignored him, went into the office, saw the can of Folgers on the sideboard sink, and started pouring water into the Mr. Coffee machine. Gordy followed her, set down his bag, came over, and stood beside her. She had never been this close to him and he smelled like stick deodorant aged in old sweat.

“I’m still here,” she said, deciding to take the offensive. He was wearing that Velcro back brace. She wondered if he slept in it.

“You ain’t the only one. Green Explorer, Minnesota plates, parked at the Motor Inn.”

“Shit,” Nina said. All right!

“Yeah, he’s hanging around. Here. Let me do that.” Gordy took the can of Folgers from her and started measuring out the coffee. “Ace likes it strong.”

“Where is he?”

“Run off with the most popular chick in town.” Gordy grinned and held his hand palm down about waist level. “ ‘Bout this tall. She ain’t got legs or arms but she got these great lips, and her head is flat on top, just right for setting down a beer can.”

“Old joke,” Nina said and fixed a bored expression on her face.

“Ace went into court to fight a speeding ticket. He’ll be back pretty soon.” Gordy shrugged and removed a six-pack of Coke from the bag, and a cardboard box of assorted doughnuts.

“Breakfast of Champions, huh?” Nina said.

Gordy put the Cokes in the refrigerator, all but one can. He popped the top, took a sip, and opened the bakery box. “Want one?” he asked. As he held the pastries up he stepped closer, too close, so his arm grazed her arm.

Nina threw a warning glance. Gordy just smiled and selected a jelly doughnut, took a bite, then leered at her, with a gob of goo caught in his mustache. His tongue darted out, snapped up the goo. Then he started to make his move. “So, where did he sleep last night. On the couch or on you?”

Nina extended the middle finger of her right hand.

“You give it up yet?” Gordy said, staring at her hips. “You satisfy his curiosity?” The leer accelerated and his breath came faster, working up to something ugly, and his eyes started to go fast, like two little caged rats.

“Back off, Gordy. I mean it.” Nina started for the door.

Gordy blocked her path, looming. Almost touching her as he whispered in her ear with his sugar breath, “It’s like this-you could leave under your own power, or you could disappear. It’d be easy…”

Nina, an inch taller, dropped her eyes to focus on the lump of Adam’s apple nestled in Gordy’s hairy throat. Go on, asshole, touch me. Crush his larnyx in about two seconds…

She moved past him and then the knife came out.

He drew it from his back pocket: a standard folding Buck Hunter with a fat, almost four-inch, stainless-steel blade. Gordy whipped it open with a smooth practiced flick of his thumb. He raised the knife in his right hand, menacing the blade back and forth. Catching the light. Not exactly threatening her directly with it, more like showing off and working up to something…