What time is it anyway?
What the fuck does it matter? I’m not taking medicine.
I was on that Atkins diet plan, some kind of goddamn diet plan, I might not be so uncomfortable in this goddamn trunk, because there might not be so much of me. I ought to try that. Eat all the bacon and eggs and steak and fat I want. Sounds pretty good.
Except for the heart part. Bound to bad for your heart, all that grease. How can that be good for you?
Shit, I was on the Atkins plan or not, it still wouldn’t be comfortable in this goddamn trunk. What the fuck am I thinking? Stay here long enough, I’ll get thin, all right. From dying and rotting.
What the hell is that?
Something was prodding him in the side, and it wasn’t the tire tool. It was something sharp. He shifted, put his hand in his coat pocket, got poked.
Damn. Those darts. Forgot about those dudes. They had been there since Kayla gave them him.
Tad put his hand to his mouth, sucked on the puncture.
All right, he thought. That’s enough. Time to call…
Nah. I’ll give it another minute. He might come out and check on me.
But why would he?
He’s not going to do that. That wasn’t the plan. Shit, I set the plan up. I ought to know that. I’m getting dingy. Wonder if that fucking Atkins diet helps with the memory?
I’ll call. Now.
“He’s got a phone in his pocket,” Sergeant Pale said.
Harry had been pulled up from the floor and pushed against the wall, and the sergeant was giving him a search.
“Get rid of it,” the chief said.
Sergeant Pale dropped it on the floor, lifted his foot up with deliberation and placed it on the phone, and put all his weight on it. It snapped.
Tad, lying in the trunk, holding his phone, got a photo sent to him—photo of a guy’s big foot coming down. And he could see a face too, leaning over, looking down. Just a glimpse of it. Scarred. Photo deal must have been activated when the phone was dropped or thrown.
Who the fuck was this guy? Looked like he’d caught his fucking face in a lawn mower.
Damn. He had been right. There was some shit going down, and here he was, locked in the trunk of a car. By a dog, no less.
But he did have his phone. He could call someone.
But, shit, the police? Chief would have that all sewn up.
Let’s see. Who did he know?
Not much of anybody anymore.
Harry’s mother.
What the fuck was her phone number? He could call information. Her name was Wilkes, he knew that. He could figure it out, maybe she could help him. Then he’d have to explain everything going on, scare the shit out of her.
Then again, there was that limited-air thing….
Sounds.
Someone was opening a door of the car.
The sergeant, after stomping Harry’s phone and giving him another love tap with his gun, took Harry’s keys and went out.
Harry, when he was able, moved to the couch near Kayla. He sat there rubbing the back of his head. The chief pulled a chair up close to Harry and sat down, draping his gun hand over one knee, letting the automatic dangle.
Kayla, lips trembling, looked at Harry. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t as tough as I thought.”
Harry could see the spots on her breast clearly now. They were dark and raw. He reached out and touched her knee. “It’s okay. Really. You couldn’t have done anything else.”
“You are one understanding son of a bitch,” the chief said. “Me, I’d want to beat her with a goddamn chair leg. Just break it off and go to work. Want to know something? None of this had to happen, you know. What we did long ago, it was a drunk thing. Your father was with us, Kayla. He wanted to get him some too, but then he got cold feet. Chickenshitted out. Sobered up and then felt like he was better than me and Pale. Got him a conscience. Which, considering he was fucking around with every stray piece of tail he could find, wives, daughters of people he knew, was kind of a hoot. And we’d backed him up on that rape thing. Shit, he didn’t rape that woman. She was willing. Your dad, he was a cocksman. I’ll give him that. He could talk one of God’s own female angels out of a piece of ass, get her to suck and swallow. He was that kind of guy. Smooth as a Slurpee.”
“He didn’t murder anyone,” Kayla said. “He didn’t rape that woman. He wasn’t like you. And I don’t believe that was the only time with you.”
“You want to know something?” the chief said. “You might be right. I’ve done some bad things.”
“You’re doing a bad thing now,” Harry said.
“This is about survival.” The chief leaned back in the chair and studied Harry for a long moment, said, “What I want to know is this: How’d you know what happened in that shelter? Out there on Humper’s Hill…. Yeah, Kayla told me all about it. Between cigarette burns. She tells me it’s visions. But that’s bullshit, isn’t it? You know some other kind of way, don’t you? Some witness told you, didn’t they?”
“It’s just like she said,” Harry said.
“No, it isn’t. I don’t buy that for a minute.”
“That’s all I can tell you, because it’s the truth.”
“There’s someone else saw us, isn’t there? Some witness.”
Harry shook his head.
The chief leaned forward and struck Harry a sharp blow across the jaw with the back of his hand. Then he put the automatic against Harry’s forehead. “You ought to just go on and tell us. No use being brave now. What’s gonna happen is gonna happen, but it could happen quicker. You know, you pull a fish out of the water, you can let it die gasping for air on the bank, or you can get it over quick with a sharp blow, a cut. You want to be that gasping fish?”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“I could make it tough on the girl instead of you. Would that help you talk?”
“If I knew anything, believe me, I’m not that brave, I would have talked already. You think someone was hiding inside that little shelter watching? You really think that?”
The chief pulled the gun back and let it rest across his knee again. Harry thought about jumping him. It might be the thing to do, take his chances here.
The chief got up and walked across the room, leaned against the wall, the automatic hanging by his side. Harry realized his chance was over.
“Sounds, huh?”
Harry nodded.
“That’s some wacky crap. Makes my goddamn skin crawl thinking about that kind of woo-woo shit… Whatever. We’re gonna have to get it over with. There’s a late movie I want to record. Got it all set up, but forgot to turn it on. You know something? It’s a musical. Wouldn’t think I’m a musical kind of guy, but I am.
He looked at his watch. “I got enough time to do what we got to do and get back, push the button, so let’s get this show on the road. Sounds? The past hidden in sounds. That’s your story and you’re sticking to it?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Well, even if it isn’t, I’ll deal with any witnesses when they show. There’s a time when you got to cut your losses and just take it as it comes. Something I’ve learned about life. You should have had that lesson, just let all this shit go. Done that, you’d be banging tail tonight, having eggs and coffee tomorrow.”
The chief raised his pistol, waved it at Harry. “Untie her, help her button up there, then let’s go out the back way. Come on. Make it pronto. You got to twist the wire apart on her wrists; it’s kind of wound together there.
