cloth. The only one I really recognized was Tabitha, and that was because she was the freshest. Above each of the women was a little cardboard sign. The signs read, left to right: TABITHA. RONNIE. CAROLINE.
At the foot of the photograph there was a longer cardboard sign that read BETRAYERS.
Booger said, “What, man?”
When I didn’t answer, he came over and stood by my chair and looked down at what I was looking at. I put the photograph on the coffee table and Booger picked it up and looked at it while I opened the letter to read.
SO, YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT GIVES? HERE’S WHAT GIVES. GO TO THESE ADDRESSES AND TAKE A LOOK. YOU’LL FIND WHAT YOU NEED TO FIND. ONE AND TWO. THREE SORT OF CAME APART AND IS NO MORE. THEY BETRAYED THE CAUSE AND THEY PAID. WHITE POWER WEARS MANY HATS. ADDRESS ONE, NOTICE THE PATH. ADDRESS TWO, SEEK THE TOWER. COME AFTER SIX TODAY. NO POLICE. POLICE COME, BAD THINGS COULD HAPPEN.
The addresses were listed, two of them. I knew generally where one of them was, and I had a town map in my car to find the other. What made me nervous was the package was supposed to have come from Jimmy’s address. Probably mailed from a UPS store. They wanted me to know they knew all about him and where he lived. I was glad he was out of town. I looked at the date on the envelope. Today. I looked at my watch. Nearly six.
Booger said, “You know what? This photo ain’t right.”
I was up and moving. “No, it isn’t. I’m going to check something.”
I called Jimmy on my cell. It seemed like an hour before he answered, but he picked up on the third ring.
“Cason,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“Not much. You’re out of town, right?”
“Oh yeah. Didn’t you get my message?”
“Double-checking.”
“We’re out at the lake. Outside watching the sun start to dip. Trixie is lying in a lawn chair, looking good in a two-piece, reading a book, and I’m sitting here drinking a big old Pepsi-Cola and can’t wait till bedtime so I can show Trixie all my manly tricks. Mom and Dad are in the house. Mom brought today’s newspaper. Dad is reading a book.”
“Don’t say any more, and don’t answer any calls that don’t come from my number, and then be sure it’s me before you start talking too much.”
Jimmy was silent for a while. I got the idea he was moving to another location, away from Trixie. “Something coming down?”
“I don’t think it’s anything, really.”
“You’re lying to me, Cason. I’m the good liar, not you.”
“It’s anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I don’t believe that either. You may not be safe. You ought to join us here.”
“I got a friend with me.”
“A woman?”
“An old war buddy. Nobody you know. I’m safe.”
“I don’t know what to say, Cason, except I don’t want to come back there. I may never want to come back there.”
“I don’t want you to. At least not now. I’ll keep you informed. Just wanted to check in.”
“I feel like such a chickenshit.”
“You’re fine. Just stay there.”
Jimmy had a few more things to say, but I was hardly listening. I hung up the phone and went to the closet and got the holster that went with the .38 and strapped it on my belt and put the .38 in it and pulled my shirt out and over it.
“Hey, man,” Booger said, “hold your goddamn water till I get my pants on. Me and Mr. Lucky are going with you.”
Mr. Lucky was Booger’s .45. It was one of his small circle of friends.
36
The first address was a vacant lot in an area I knew, and behind the lot were some woods, and about two acres on either side of the lot were also woods, and beyond that, on both sides were houses. There was nothing to see that meant anything to me. I parked at the curb and Booger and I sat there and looked around. Night had fallen and the wind had picked up and there was a hint of more rain in the air.
Booger said, “You think you’re being fucked with?”
“One way or another,” I said. “Thing is, I wasn’t supposed to bring you.”
“It said no police. I’m not the police. Someone sends you a picture of dead women and says meet them in the dark, you ought to have someone friendly with you. This way, you got me and Mr. Lucky.”
I got out of the car and Booger got out on the other side. I said, “I figure they want me to work for it. They said to look for the path.”
“There it is,” Booger said.
He was pointing at a little trail that rolled across the lot and down amongst the clutch of trees at the back. The moonlight made the path look like a twisty, silver ribbon.
“Could be an ambush,” Booger said. “Like I was saying, you don’t want to come here with nothing besides that .38 and a hopeful feeling. Tell you what, bro. I’m going to kind of fade off to the side here, and come along on the right, and you go down the path. You got business you don’t like, you get to cracking that peashooter, or yelling out, and me and Mr. Lucky will come running and barking and calling your name.”
“Good enough,” I said.
“I hope it is somebody,” Booger said.
“Don’t hope too hard. You might shoot someone hasn’t got anything to do with anything.”
“Everybody has something to do with something in my book,” Booger said.
“I mean it, Booger.”
Booger looked at me and smiled. That smile told me a lot. It told me he didn’t really give a damn about what I had to say, but he would humor me. Up to a point.
The wind was blowing hard when I got on the path and started down it toward the wood line. I looked up to find Booger, but he was already gone. He was in his element. Stalk and destroy.
As I went along, the trail dipped down a hill and into the trees, and I could hear water running. The trees on either side of the trail were wind-whipped, and as they blew they tossed shadows along the trail. As I walked, the trail grew more narrow and the shadows grew longer and thicker. Pretty soon there was nothing but the dark. I had a flashlight in the car, but like an idiot I hadn’t thought to bring it. Booger, he could see in the dark like a cat, so he wouldn’t be bothered. Me, I wasn’t that good.
I went on down and felt my way along with my feet, going slow, and then I heard something, movement in the bushes. I crouched and wondered if it was Booger. I almost called out his name, but held my breath instead. I felt as if at any moment the winged Oz monkeys would appear and grab me and flap me off into the night.
I made sure I had control of my breathing, waited and listened. I didn’t hear anything. I stood up and started moving again, and as I went the trail opened and dropped down through the woods. I jumped over a narrow creek and kept walking until the woods split open and there was another clearing. I could see something in the clearing ahead. It was dead center of the clearing and it wasn’t moving.
Then something did move. Something came out of the shadows up ahead and went across quick.
A shape. A man most likely, and not Booger. I’d know Booger’s tank-broad shape anywhere. This was a leaner, lankier shape that moved like his bones were rubber. The moon had flashed on his shaved skull and I got a glimpse of what looked like a giant spider on the back of his neck—the hand tattoo the kids had told me about.
Stitch, the Geek.
I got the .38 out and eased onward, keeping an eye peeled on where I had seen the shape disappear into the
