”What’s going on inside them? Drugs? What?“
Mia gives me a hard look. ”The kind of sex I’m not into, probably.“
”I wasn’t asking you to go. I just wanted to know.“
She leans back in her seat and closes her eyes. She sounds a little out of breath.
”Did you take any Ecstasy?“ I ask.
”No. I was kidding before. I don’t do drugs. I had a couple of vodka shots, just talking to people.“
”What’s the general state of the crowd?“
”Up by the stage it’s mellow. Everybody’s hugging and holding hands. Out on the edges it’s out of control. The rednecks in the trucks are doing crystal meth. I saw a fight down by one of the ponds. Some of the girls are really drunk. Incomprehensible. That’s who winds up in the tents.“
I roll down my window to let the breeze blow across my face. ”Do anybody’s parents have any idea what’s going on out here?“
”I don’t think so. But they might by next week. I saw flashbulbs going off in one tent. You get naked out here, you’ll wind up on the Internet for sure.“
”Shit.“
Mia leans forward and pulls her hair into a ponytail, then puts an elastic band around it. ”What do you want to do now?“
”Let’s get back to the hotel and see what’s on Kate’s flash drives. We’re not doing Drew any good out here.“
She nods and starts the car.
”Hang on,“ I tell her, opening my door.
”Where are you going?“
”It’s a long ride back.“
”Oh. Don’t wander off.“
I walk a few yards down the hill, away from the car. As I unzip my pants, a truck rolls slowly up the drive. To escape its beams, I walk farther down the hill, toward a tall oak with low, spreading branches. After the truck’s headlights sweep past, I open my fly and begin urinating. I’m nearly done when a strangely musical voice seems to fall from the sky.
I jump backward and nearly piss on my leg. High-pitched laughter echoes through the dark.
”Who’s there?“ I ask anxiously.
”Up here,“ says the voice.
I look up. Lying in the bow of a horizontal oak limb is a shirtless teenager who looks a lot like Marko Bakic. Seated beside him, her bare legs hanging down in the air, is a girl who looks no older than fifteen.
”You can finish,“ she says, giggling around the pacifier. ”I’ve already seen it, anyway.“
The shirtless boy grins like the Cheshire Cat. ”Mr. Cage, right?“
The East European accent is unmistakable. It’s Marko, all right. I take a step forward and look up at him. ”Hello, Marko.“
”What brings you out here tonight, man? You looking to get high?“
”I came to see you, actually.“
The smile doesn’t waver. ”Yeah?“
”How can he just stop peeing like that?“ asks the girl. ”I couldn’t do that.“
”Go get yourself another drink,“ Marko tells her, never taking his eyes off me.
”I don’t want another drink.“
”Get lost, then. You can take this with you.“
He passes something small to her. Pills, no doubt. ”The rest of you go with her, okay?“
As though materializing out of thin air, three more young men drop to the ground from other limbs and start walking up to the road. Alicia goes with them. The back of one boy’s T-shirt reads, ”KA OLE MISS.“
After they disappear, Marko swings down from his perch. He’s about an inch taller than I, with lanky, muscular arms and a scrawny chest. His mouth is smiling, but it seems separated from his eyes somehow, which are watching me like the eyes of an animal uncertain whether to fight or flee.
”What can I do for you, Mr. Cage?“
”Do you know about the Wilsons?“
The smile disappears. ”Sure. Terrible, yeah?“
”Were you home when the killers got there?“
Marko’s eyes narrow. ”No way. I’d have killed them right back.“
”I found the bodies.“
”I read that in the newspaper.“
I watch him for a while without speaking. The silence doesn’t seem to make him nervous. It’s making me nervous.
”Why are you carrying a gun?“ he asks. ”You scared?“
I guess in Sarajevo you learn to spot weapons pretty quick. ”Things are a little crazy in town just now. I like to know I have options.“
This earns a smile. ”Options…I like that. I like options, too.“
”Who killed the Wilsons, Marko? Who tried to hit you?“
He shrugs. ”Who knows, man? America’s a crazy country.“
Marko’s accent combined with his lanky physique makes me think of Goran Ivanisevic, the Croatian tennis star. Marko is actually handsomer than Ivanisevic, but not quite as wholesome looking.
”Listen, Marko,“ I say in a friendly voice, ”I’m not here to try to hurt you. In fact, if you let me, I can almost certainly help you. I know you’ve opened up some new drug markets with the white fraternities at Ole Miss and LSU. Some other places, too. But now that you’ve done that, you’re expendable.“
”Cyrus seems to think so.“
”Don’t know, man.“
”Or was it the Asians?“
All the levity leaves Marko’s face. ”You know a lot, Mr. Cage. Maybe too much, yeah?“
”I’m not the only one who knows this stuff.“ Low down on Marko’s belly is a mass of white scar tissue shot through with purple. Wade Anders told me Marko had been bayoneted as a child.
Marko sniffs like a fox and looks up toward the road. ”That cop with the mullet knew it. Look what happened to him.“
”I saw the Asians kill him.“
”Maybe the Asians think I’m expendable, too, eh? If they do, I’m dead. If I went back to Croatia, I might get away from them. But I don’t want to go back.“
”Are you coming back to St. Stephen’s?“
”Can’t do it.“
”Don’t you want to graduate?“
Tiny points of light dance in his eyes. ”I want to live more.“
”How can you stay in the U.S. if you don’t graduate and go to college?“
He shrugs. ”I can live anywhere. I’ll just become someone else.“
”Is that how you want to spend your life? As someone else?“
”Might be nice for a while.“
I hold out empty hands and step closer to him. We’re no more than five feet apart. ”I don’t care about the drugs, Marko. I’m here because I want to save my friend. You know who I’m talking about?“
”The doctor. The guy who raped Kate.“
”Why do you say that?“
Marko shrugs again. ”That’s what everybody says. The doctor raped her and then he killed her.“
