Fool Me Twice

30

How’s it going,” Jesse said.

“As you might expect,” Crow said.

They were drinking coffee alongside the craft service truck, a sort of fast-food place on wheels that provided snacks and between-meals goodies for the movie personnel.

Marisol was in the nearby makeup-and-hair trailer. Crow’s attention was totally focused on the people entering and exiting it.

“What’s she like?”

“She’s very demanding. She wants things her way. She becomes agitated when they’re not. On the other hand, she’s extremely self-centered.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“I suppose she’s not a bad person. It’s just that she’s preoccupied with herself. But she’s probably no different from high-profile politicians and corporate bigwigs.”

The two men drank their coffee.

“Have I mentioned that she’s also an amazing pain in the ass?” Crow said.

“How disillusioning.”

“She’s never satisfied. Nothing suits her. She complains constantly.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“She’s frightened.”

“Still?”

“She admitted that she did something she knew would piss him off.”

“Dare I ask?”

“She bounced a check on him. Now she’s afraid he’s in a financial bind and that’s why he’ll come after her.”

“Do you believe it?”

“That he’ll come after her?”

“Yes.”

“Never take any threat lightly.”

The door to the trailer opened, and a middle-aged woman wearing a ball cap and a smock stuck her head out. She looked around until she spotted Crow.

“She wants you,” the woman said.

Crow waved to her.

“My turn in the barrel,” he said as he headed for the trailer.

“Try not to hurt yourself,” Jesse said.

—

Ryan had rented the cabin through Craigslist and had arranged to pick up the keys at a post office box in Salem. They had been left in the name Buddy Fairbanks.

He drove ten miles to the cabin, located on the outskirts of South Hamilton, a short distance from Paradise, hidden in dense tree cover. It was equipped with a kitchen, satellite dish, and worn but comfortable furniture.

He carried his groceries inside. He dumped his duffel bag in the bedroom. He ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, showered, and climbed into bed.

So far, so good, he thought. In more than three days of travel across the width of the United States, no one had seen him. No one knew his whereabouts. He was a ghost.

He rolled over, closed his eyes, and slept.