'I'd better speak with Mr. Chenier. I'll speak with Mr. Myers, too.'
Starkey said, 'Maybe we can backtrace DeNice's
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moves from last night to see how he got here. We can talk to that other guy, too, Fontenot. Maybe he knows something.' Lucas nodded absently, then looked back at the van as if it held secrets we might never know. 'This isn't a simple missing person case anymore.' Starkey said, 'No. If it ever was.' Lucas looked back at Ben's shoe, then considered me. 'I have some Handiwipes and alcohol in my car. You need to take care of yourself.' Starkey stayed with Lucas and Alvarez to question Richard and Myers about what they knew. I took the Handiwipes and alcohol to my car. I took off my shirt and shoes, then poured the alcohol over my arms and hands. I got off as much of the blood as I could with the Handiwipes, poured on more alcohol, then used even more Handiwipes. I put on a T-shirt and an old pair of running shoes that I kept behind my front seat, then sat in my car watching the cops. Lucas, Alvarez, and the Parker Center detectives were bunched around Richard and Myers. Richard shouted that they didn't know what they were talking about. Richard was freaking out, but Myers was as calm as a spider waiting at the edge of its web. I stared at the van and saw what they had left in it even though I was a hundred feet away. I would always see it. I would never be able to stop seeing it. They had cut off his head, and the men who did it had Ben. My cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. It was Pike. I told him about DeNice. I told him about going inside the van. My voice sounded strange, as if it was muted by fog and wind. I kept talking until I heard him telling me to shut up. He said, 'I found someone who can help.' I started my car and left. BEN
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CHAPTER 19
Eric and Mazi treated Ben differently after Mike shot the man. They stopped to pick up In-N-Out burgers on the way back to the house (double meat, double cheese, and an order of onion rings and fries for everybody). When they reached the house, they didn't lock Ben in the room or tie him; they let him sit with them in the empty living room while they ate and played cards, and gave him an Orangina. They were a lot more relaxed. Even Mazi laughed. It was as if killing that man had freed them.
After they finished the burgers, Eric made a face. 'Man, I shoulda passed on the onions.' Mazi said, 'Yes?'
Eric broke wind loudly.
Mazi said, 'Ewe body is rotteen.'
They sat in a circle on the floor. Ben snuck glances at the gun that bulged under Eric's shirt, trying to think of a way to get it. All he thought about for most of the afternoon was getting the gun, shooting them, then running to the house across the street. When Mike came back, he would shoot him, too.
When Ben looked up from the gun, he saw Mazi staring at him again. It creeped Ben out, the way he did that.
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Mazi said, 'He theenkeeng about ewe gun.'
'Big fuckin' deal. He did all right out there. He's a natural-born killer.'
Ben said, 'I can shoot.'
Eric raised his eyebrows, glancing up from his cards.
'That's right, you're a coonass. You people hunt before you can walk. What kinda shooting you do?'
'I have a twenty-gauge shotgun and a .22. I've been duck hunting with my uncles and my grandpa. I've shot my mom's pistol.'
'Well, there you go.'
Mazi said, 'Waht meenz koonahz ?'
'A coonass is a Frenchman from Louisiana.'
Eric liked it that they were talking about guns. He reached under his shirt, and took out the gun. It was big and black, with a checked grip and worn engraving on its side.
'You wanna hold it?'
Mazi said, 'Stop eet. Put ewe gun ah-way.'
'Fuck off. What could it hurt?'
Eric turned the pistol from side to side so Ben could see.
'This is a Colt forty-five Model nineteen-eleven. It used to be the standard-issue combat sidearm until the Army went pussy with this nine millimeter shit. A nine holds more bullets, but a nine ain't shit; you don't need
more bullets if you hit your target with this.'
Eric waved the gun toward Mazi.
'Take a big nigger like Mazi here, he's strong as a cape buffalo and ten times as mean. You can shoot him all day with a nine and he'll keep comin', but you put one of these in him, you'll knock him flat on his ass. This gun's a stopper.'
Eric waved the pistol back to Ben.
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'You wanna hold it?'
Ben said, 'Yeah.'
Eric pressed something on the gun and the magazine fell out. He pulled the slide. The gun coughed up a bullet
