I found the street, turned down it, and about halfway up, in a driveway on the left, I spotted Betsy’s Infiniti. I wondered how much longer she’d have that. I could see a ten-year-old Neon in her future.
I parked in front of her mother’s house, a brick two-story. A Siamese cat was watching the street through the front window. I went up the drive and was about to knock when the door opened.
“You made good time,” Doug said, a cigarette dangling between his lips. “Usually you run into some rush- hour traffic this time of the day.”
“The roads were pretty clear.”
“Which way did you come? When I come, I usually take-”
“Doug, cut it.”
“Yeah, sure, okay. But you want that beer?”
“No.”
He took a long drag on the cigarette, then threw it to the ground. Smoke continued to waft up from it.
“Listen, I really appreciate your help this afternoon, and for kind of, you know, defusing a tense situation. If you hadn’t been there, I swear, I don’t know what I might have done to Betsy.”
“Emotions were kind of running high,” I said.
“Now, here at her mom’s, I got two of them going at me. Elsie takes Betsy’s side in everything. She doesn’t know how to see the big picture. And the place smells like cat piss.”
“Walk with me,” I said, leading him down the driveway to the truck.
“What’s on your mind, Glenny?”
“Just wait a minute. There’s something I need to show you.”
“Sure. I don’t suppose it’s a bag full of cash?” Doug forced a laugh. I didn’t respond.
I unlocked the tailgate and opened the window.
“I unloaded your truck for you,” I said.
“Oh, that’s good of you, man. ’Preciate it. Hope it doesn’t take up too much room in the shed.”
“I found these two boxes up by the cab.” I paused, waiting for a reaction. Getting none, I said, “You recognize these?”
He shrugged. “They’re boxes.”
“You know what’s inside them?”
“Beats me.”
“No idea?”
“Can we open ’em up?”
I pulled back the cardboard flaps on the first one, tossed aside some Chinese newspaper clumps, and lifted out a circuit breaker switch. Doug, uncrumpling a balled-up piece of newsprint, said, “How does anyone read this shit? Have you ever wondered how the Chinese do typewriters when there’s, like, a million letters? Their computers must have keypads the size of driveways. How do they do that?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“This stuff was in my truck?” Doug said, tossing the paper aside.
“Yeah. The other box is full of the same. Switches, outlets, all that kind of thing.”
“Huh,” he said.
“You saying you don’t recognize this?”
“They’re switches and shit. Sure, I recognize that kind of thing. But I don’t know what it’s doing in my truck. Just supplies, I guess. You know everything that’s in the back of your truck?”
“This stuff, none of it’s up to code,” I said. “It’s made overseas, made to look like legitimate parts made here.”
“You think?”
“I know. This is what caused the fire at the Wilson house, Doug.”
“This stuff here? It doesn’t looked burnt or nothing.”
“Stuff just like it. I got the news from Alfie today, over at the fire department.”
He took the part from my hand. “Looks okay.”
“It’s got no certification stamp. Although some, I gather, do, but the stamps are fake.”
He turned it around in his hand. “Damned if it don’t look like the real McCoy.”
I took the part from him and tossed it into the box. “I just accused Theo Stamos of installing this in the Wilson place. It got a bit ugly. He swore up and down it wasn’t his fault. I didn’t believe him. Thing is, I still don’t. I think he installed it. But what I’m wondering now is, did he knowingly do it?”
“Knowingly?”
“I wonder if the parts got switched on him.”
“Why would someone do that?” Was Doug really this thick, or was it an act?
“You substitute knockoff parts for the real thing, you can return the real stuff to the store and make a tidy little profit.”
“Yeah, I suppose- You? You mean me?”
“That’s what I want to know, Doug. I want to know if that’s what you did.”
“Jesus, are you kidding me? You think I’d do something like that?”
“I never would have, but now, I don’t know anymore. You went behind my back with Sally, tried to get an advance on your salary. That was wrong. You threatened to call the IRS on me. You’re in the middle of a financial meltdown, and your wife spends money like she’s printing it off the computer.”
“Come on, man. That’s a serious accusation.”
“I know. And I want you to explain to me why this stuff is in your truck.”
Doug swallowed, glanced up and down the street. “I swear to you, I don’t know anything about this, Glen.”
“No idea,” I said.
“Nope.” A lightbulb seemed to go off. “You know what I think?”
“Tell me.”
“I think I’m being set up or something.”
“You’re being framed?”
“Yup.”
“Who’s framing you, Doug?”
“If I knew that, don’t you think I’d tell you? Maybe it’s KF.”
“Ken Wang,” I said.
“He’s Chinese,” he said. “Maybe those are his newspapers in the box there.”
“He’s grown up in America,” I said. “I don’t even know if he knows Chinese.”
“I’ve heard him speak it. Remember that time we went into that Chinese place for lunch, Ken was talking to the owner?”
“I don’t remember that,” I said.
“Well, I do. He was all ‘egg foo this and moo shu that.’ You should talk to him, that’s what you should be doing.”
“The stuff is in your truck, Doug.”
Betsy popped her head out the front door and shouted, “What’s going on?”
“Go inside!” Doug shouted at her, and she did.
“You know what I think?” I asked him.
“What?”
“I think you’ve let me down. Big-time.”
“No way, man. We go way back.”
“That’s why this hurts so much. I know you’re in deep shit, Doug. I know the wolves are at your door. But you ask for help. You don’t betray a friend. You don’t put everything he has at risk.”
“Seriously, I don’t know nothin’ about those boxes.”
“Don’t come in tomorrow, Doug. Except to pick up your truck.”
“What about the day after that? What are you saying?” Something occurred to him. “Can I still leave our stuff in the shed?”
I slammed the tailgate shut and walked around to the driver’s door, Doug trailing me.
