Secret Prey

SIX

A GRIM-FACED HELEN BELL STEERED HER TOYOTA Camry into the driveway at her sisters house and said, Audrey, youre crazy.

Its all right, Audrey McDonald said sharply. She had a small black circle under her left eye, now covered heavily with makeup, where one of Wilson McDonalds blows had landed. He must be sober by now. He had to work today.

He could have gone to work this morning and be drunk all over again, Bell said. She was four years younger than her sister, but in some ways had always been the protective one. Thats happened.

Ill be okay, Audrey said.

Youll never be okay until you leave him, Helen said. The man is an animal and doesnt deserve you. Even the police know it, nowyou said so yourself.

But I love him, Audrey said. On the drive over, Helen had gotten angrier and angrier with her sister, but now her face softened and she patted Audrey on the thigh.

Then youre going to have to see a doctor, together, she said. Theres a name for thiscodependency. You cant keep going like this, because sooner or later, it wont just be a slap, or a beating. Hes going to kill you.

You know what hes said about that, about a doctor, Audrey said. They dont go to psychiatrists in the Mc-Donald family.

But itd all be confidential, Helen protested. Times have changed. ..

After this bank thing is done with, Audrey said, as she pushed open the car door. Maybe then.

Bell watched her go. She hated McDonald. Shed never liked him, but over the years distaste had grown into this curdling, bitter-tasting hatred. Audrey would never remove herself from McDonald. Somebody else would have to do it for her, like a surgeon removing a cancer.

She liked the metaphor: Dan Kresge had been a cancer on the bank, and hed been removed. Good for the bank and everybody employed there. McDonald was a cancer on her sister: the sooner he was cut out, the better.

AUDREY EASED INTO THE HOUSE, MOVING QUIETLY, wary of an ambush. Was he in the tub again? In the study? She stepped into the kitchen, and the board that always squeaked, the one shed sworn two hundred times to fix, squeaked.

Audrey? Is that you? He was in the study; he sounded sober.

Its me, she said tentatively.

Jesus Christ, where have you been? Ive been calling Helen, but nobody ever answers. Hed been lurching down the hall as he spoke, a yellow legal pad in his hand, and when he turned into the kitchen, he spotted the black eye and pulled up. Holy cow. Did I do that?

She recognized the mood and moved to take advantage of it: No, of course not, she said sarcastically. Ive been hitting myself in the face with a broomstick.

Aw, Jesus… That was all shed get. He went on, But Jesus, we gotta talk. I got a cop following me around. And the boards gonna meet on Wednesday, but probably wont make a decision. Theyre talking about a search, for Christs sake.

A search? Thats just a way of slowing everything down.

I know that. Its me or ODell or Bone.

Have you talked to your father?

Just for a minute, to ask him to stay out of it for the time being. I thought it might be a little too obvious if he got out there. At this point.

Good thought… What about the cop?

Its this fuckin Davenport, McDonald said impatiently. He was talking to Bone today, and the word is, hes asking about me.

Whats he asking? Audrey asked. He doesnt think you…

I dont know; Im finding out. He could be a problem.

How can he be a problem? You didnt shoot anybody. His eyes slid away from hers: I know… but he could be a problem. He looked back: I mean, Jesus, if theres a search, you think theyre gonna pick a guy who the cops are investigating?

Okay.

And the thing is, the sheriff up there, Krause, hes just about signed off on the thing, from what I hear. Hes dead in the water. If it wasnt for Davenport, itd be pretty much over with.

Maybe thats something your father could help with right now.

Come on in here, Wilson said, and turned back toward the study. The study was a large room with a window looking out on the front lawn, and two walls of shelves loaded with knickknacks, travel souvenirs, and small golf and tennis trophies going back to Wilsons days in prep school and college. Framed photos of Wilson and Audrey with George Bush, Ronald Reagan, and in much younger days a tired-looking Richard Nixon, looked down from the third wall. Wilson dropped into the brown-leather executives chair behind the cherry desk, while Audrey perched on a love seat below Nixons worn face.

So call your father on Davenport. On the board, we cancall Jimmy and Elaine, Audrey said. Elaine is very close to Dafne Bose, and Jimmys been trying to get into the trust departments legal workforever… Dafne Bose was on the board. If we can get to Dafne, were halfway there.

You know who else? He looked down at the legal pad. Were carrying two million bucks in land-andattachments paper on Shankland Chev, which they couldnt get a half-million anywhere else. And Dave Shankland…

… is married to Peg Bose. Peg Bose was Dafnes daughter. We couldnt use that right away, itd look too much like blackmail. But if we got in a squeak…

Heres the list Ive got so far, Wilson said. He passed the legal pad to Audrey. Seventeen board members, so we need nine. Four I can count onEirich, Goff, Brandt, and Sanderson. If we can get Dafne, we can probably get Rondeau and Bunde, cause they pretty much do what she suggests. Then wed need two…

How about Young? You know he wants to get into Woodland.

Oh, man, I dont know if I could swing that, Wilson said doubtfully.

We need a black member anyway, because of that government thing, and whod be better than Billy Young? His father was a minister and hes really pretty white. And he must be worth…

They began working down strings of possible supporters, analyzing relationships, working out who knew who, who owed who, who could be bought, and with what.

Later, getting coffee, Audrey without thinking brushed her cheek, and flinched at the sudden lancing pain. The black eye: shed forgotten about it, and Wilson had never really paid any attention to it anyway. The excitement of conspiracy, she decided: some of their tenderest moments had occurred in the study, working over legal pads…

MARCUS KENT WAS AN ASSISTANT VICE PRESIDENT IN corporate operations, working for Bone; he sat on one end of Susan ODells couch. Carla Wyte, who technically worked for Robles in the currency room, lounged on the other end. Louise Compton, wearing blue jeans and a Nike sweatshirt, sat cross-legged on the floor.

… either Bone or me, ODell was saying. She was on her feet, as though she were a junior exec making a presentation to the board of directors. McDonald cant get more than six. Hes the obvious first thought, because of his family, but twelve members would be dead set against him. When that becomes obvious, things will start to move. I can see myself with eight votes; and I can see eight for Bone, but only a couple are solid for each of us. Everything is very fluid… So I think were gonna have to start maneuvering here.

How about Robles? Wyte asked.

No chance, ODell said. Its gonna be Bone or me.

Bone is good, Wyte said. His division makes the big bucks.

Most of it by me, Kent said.

ODell looked at Kent: But its his division, not yours. He gets the credit.

Kent said, Before we get any further in this, let me ask… What do we get out of it? Carla and Louise and me? We know what you get.

ODell said, You get Bones job. He wont stay around long if Im picked for the top spot. And Carlas eventually going to move into Robless slot. But right awayand I mean right awayshe gets money.

How much? Wytes eyebrows went up.

Fifty more. Fifty is the number I had in mind.

Fifty is a nice number, Wyte said.

And itll be twice that when Robles leaves.

Compton said, How about me?

Youre gonna be my executive assistant. Youre gonna be my ears. My intelligence department. Youll do realwellin terms of clout, if not in title, youll be number two in the bank.

So how do we do this? Wyte asked. What do we do… assuming were all in.

ODell looked around the room. After a second, Kent said, Im in, and Compton said, Yeah. Wyte nodded.

So… ODell said. Im going to start putting together a pitch for the board. Its got to be good, and itll take time. And Ill start working the board: thats something I have to do personally.

To some extent, its gonna be like a political campaign, but with fewer voters, Compton said. Shed come to the bank from the state capitol. One thing we can do is, we can make the point with the newspapers that youd be the first woman ever to run a major bank in Minnesota. Or anywhere, as far as I know. Any other major bank CEOs are women? She looked around, then answered herself. No. Okay. Ill check that out, but I can also start working the papers.

Thats good, ODell said. But weve got to get it going. How long before we could see it on the news?

Compton looked at her watch: Ive got time today. Ill have to talk to a couple of people, but we should see some action by tomorrow morning. When they call, youve got to be modest and all that… you know, the board has to make a decision.

I know, ODell said. I can do that.

Kent leaned forward, took a cinnamon candy out of a bowl on the coffee table, peeled off the crinkly cellophane wrapper, and popped the candy into his mouth: Speaking of negative campaigning…

Were we speaking of that? Compton asked, with a quick, cynical smile. They would have come to it sooner or later.

We are now, he said. We all know Bones weakness.

Women.

ODell shook her head. That wont help. We just donthave the timeeven if we could find somebody willing to dig into it, itd take weeks.

Kent was shaking his head. Not really. Not if the cops look into it and if somebody tips the papers that the cops are looking into it.

Why would they? Wyte asked.

Cause of the woman, Kent said, sitting back, savoring his little nugget.

Marcus… ODell said.

James T. Bone is fucking Marcia Kresge. And has been for a while.

ODells mouth had literally fallen open. Youre kidding me.

Kent shook his head: Nope. I saw her one night at Bones placeI was in the ramp, Id been over at Casper Allens, about his idiot trusts.. .

Casper lives right downstairs from Bone, ODell said to the others.

… and shed been fuckinsomebody, believe me. And as shes getting into her car, who should come out after her, carrying something? James T. Bone.

The cops need to know that, Wyte said, with an effort at sincerity. I mean, even if we werent trying to… to

… help Susan, theyd need to know that. Dans death is worth millions to her, and opens the top job for her lover.

Thats what I thought, Kent said, leaning back on the couch, sucking on the cinnamon.

Two hours later, ODell ushered Compton into the elevator, the last of them to go, and stepped pensively back into her apartment. Kent was a rat: shed have to remember that. Starting now. The other two should be okay…

She spotted her rifle case, dumped in the corner Saturday morning. The case was empty: the Garfield sheriff still had the rifle. She picked it up, carried it back to a storage closet, and slipped it inside. Stuck on the wall of the same closet was an instant-open gun safe. Acting on impulse, she jabbed at the number pads, rolling her hand like a piano player, and the door popped open. Inside lay an OfficersModel Colt. She took it out, pulled the magazine, pulled the slide back to make sure the chamber was empty, let it slam forward.

She moved slowly through the apartment, dry-firing the pistol from various hiding spots and corners; corny but fun. After ten minutes, she carried the pistol back to the safe, reseated the magazine, and shut the safe door.

Shed have to get out to the range one of these days; she was losing her edge.

MARCIA KRESGE WAS GETTING COMFORTABLE ON James T. Bones couch: Are you going to get the job?

I dont know. ODells pretty strong.

How about McDonald?

We can handle McDonald.

Good. Hes an asshole. ODell, you know, smokes dope.

So what? Bone said. So do you.

Im not trying to get to be a bank president, Kresge said.

I dont think thats enough to disqualify her, Bone said.

It would if she was arrested for possession, Kresge said. The board wouldnt touch her with a ten-foot pole.

Youd really wish that on her? Bone asked with real curiosity.

Id like to see you get the job, Kresge said. And I could fix the bust.

How?

Weve got the same dealer, Kresge said.

Bone laughed despite himself. Howd that happen?

She shrugged, not seeing anything funny in the coincidence. You know, we all hang out at the same places, and word gets around. This guy, Mark, used to be a waiter at The Falls. Hes working his way through college.

Selling grass?

Grass, speed, acid, coke, heroin, ecstasy. PCP probably. Anyway, he deals to Susan. If somebody tipped off thepolice, maybe they could catch him making a delivery. You know, socialite dope ring. The cops would like that.

What if they got your name? Bone asked.

She shrugged. Id get rid of everything before I tipped them, and I wouldnt buy any more. Whatre they going to do? If they even got my name, Id sue their butts off if they let it out.

Listen, Bone said, now serious, leaning toward her: Forget it. I swear to God, Marcia, if anybody tips off the cops about Susan, Ill whip your ass.

Oooh… that could be fun, she said lightly.

No. It wouldnt be fun, he snapped.

Sometimes he frightened her, just a bit, she thought. But a bit more than she found pleasant. Youre not gonna get this job by looking pretty, you know, she snapped back.

I know that. Im working on it, he said.

I could talk to a couple of people.

Anything you could do Id appreciate… but let me know first.

Hey: If I go into bankers-wife mode, I could probably deliver two or three votes off that board. That damn Jack OGrady has been trying to get my pants off for fifteen years: I bet he could pull a couple votes for you.

I think Jacks already with me, Bone said. But encouragement would be good.

Even if I have to take my pants off?

How big a change would that be? he asked.

A pause. Then Kresge, smiling prettily, said, Really great fuckin thing to say, Bone.

Tell you the truth, Im surprised the police havent spent more time with you. Youre not the most discreet person in the world, and you werent divorced when Dan was killed.

I can be discreet when I wanna be, she said. Look at us.

Okay.

Besides, a woman copdidcome around and talk to meSherrill, her name was. Last name. She had that big-titlook you go for. And hell, I told her everything.

But not about us.

She didnt ask.

Bone stood up, turned. Anyway: I think McDonalds in trouble. We know ODells gonna get a certain number of votes, and Ill get mine, but its McDonalds that are up for grabs.

Hows McDonald in trouble?

This copLucas Davenport, assistant chief…

I know him, actually.

He thinks McDonalds involved. Ive talked to him a couple of times and hes a smart guy. Hes talking to McDonalds pals and the word is getting out. If theres even a whiff of involvement, the boardll drop him like a hot rock.

So anything that would encourage Davenport to look at McDonald.. . that would help.

As long as it didnt turn back on us.

Ill see what The doorbell rang, and Kresge turned her head.

Bone stepped across the room and opened the heavy paneled door. Kerin Baki was there, struggling with an oversized briefcase. As she brought it in, her glasses slipped down her nose, and she jabbed them back as though theyd mutinied. She saw Kresge on the couch and said, Mrs. Kresge. Have you spoken to Mr. OGrady?

We were just talking about that, Kresge said pleasantly. Your boss was giving me a very hard time.

Baki turned, said, Mr. Bone, you should listen to Mrs. Kresge on this.

Christ, youre conspiring against me, he said.

Workingfor you, Baki said. I printed everything I could find on the mortgage company performance since McDonald took over. There are a few things we can use not necessarily his fault, but you know how mortgages have been performing…

Let me get a Coke, Bone said. What would you like, Kerin? Marcia already has a

Bloody Mary, Kresge said. And its all gone. Ill help you…

Just sparkling water, Baki said. She began spreading her papers on a coffee table as Bone and Kresge went to the kitchen to get drinks. When Baki finished with the papers, she heard Kresge laugh, a low, husky laugh with a little sex in it; she could see them moving around Bones small kitchen, inside each others personal space, casually bumping hips.

Their relationship had been clear to Baki for a while now; she wouldnt tolerate it much longer. She got so deep into that calculationthe end of Bones relationship with Marcia Kresgethat she almost didnt notice them walking toward her.

Kerin? Bone said curiously. Are you home?

He was standing next to her, holding out a glass and a bottle of lime-flavored Perrier. Oh. Sure. Preoccupied, I guess. She pushed the Perrier aside and went to the papers. This stack of papers is the annualized return on…

BONNIE BONET DYED HER HAIR BLACK, THE DENSE, sticky color of shoe polish. She dressed in black from head to toe, wore blue lipstick, and carried thirty-five extra pounds. But she was almost smart and could write poetry in Perl-5. She sat across the table from Robles and said, Because the motherfucker was going to kill a couple of thousand people, thats why.

I know youre lying, Robles said. Hed broken a sweat.

No you dont. Im not lying.

So tell me what kind of a gun you used, he said.

My fathers. 3030.

Bullshit. You never fired a gun in your life.

She sneered at him: You think I couldnt figure out a gun? Every redneck in Minnesota can shoot a gun, but I cant?

Im gonna tell the cops about this, Robles said.

Go ahead, she said. Youve got no proof.

Jesus Christ, Bonnie. I know youre lying, but youre pushing me into a corner. You get this fantasy going, youll tell somebody else, like one of your fuckin novels… Bonet laughed but looked away. Robles said, Oh, Jesus, whod you tell?

He doesnt believe me either.

You told goddamned Dick…

Well, you started it… the whole fantasy thing.

I was joking, Robles insisted. I didnt want him dead…

You got him.

But I was joking…

Too late now. You tell the cops about me, Ill tell them about you.

Robles left the bar, sweating, half drunk. Okay, she was lying. But shed never admit it. She was crazy. Almost for sure…

Terrance Robles had made just shy of a half-million dollars the previous year, and hed spent only a small part of it. With his access to information, he could grow his stake at twenty to thirty percent per year, on top of earnings. If he could hang on for another five years, he could quit. Get out. Buy an old used Cray computer somewhere, and do someseriousshit.

But he had to hold on.

He could turn Bonet in. Or, alternatively, he could kill hernothing else would shut her up. She was having too good a time.

Robles bit on a thumbnail, stumbled along the street.

LATE NIGHT: THE MIXED SMELLS OF VINEGAR AND gasoline, one pungent, one metallic; the combination smelling like blood. The vinegar went into the washtub and down the drain, followed by a steady stream of water that would carry it away.

A glass cutter: this had been in the book, which went on to say that it was probably unnecessary, but why take chances? Deep scored lines up and down the bottle, thenmore, horizontally, until the bottle was checkered with shaky, intersecting lines. Then the bottle sprayed with Windex, carefully and meticulously wiped with paper towels. No fingerprints here.

Now the gasoline, mixed in the bottle with two fourounce cans of chain saw oil. A strip of old T-shirt for a wick.

The bottle was heavy; a little better than seven pounds.

But it wouldnt have to be thrown far.

Just far enough.