Summer Cool

12

This time, Terry looked almost back to normal. There was a firmness around her mouth, a hard set that had never been there before, but otherwise she looked like nothing had happened.

"Hello, Jack," she said, as if Paine had come for a barbecue, or to help stain the redwood furniture with Bobby out back. He might almost have thought that Bobby would come out of the kitchen any moment, if not for the fact that much of Bobby's possessions, the same things Paine had meticulously gone through the day before, were heaped in the front hallway, some of them in open boxes filled to the top.

"What's all this?" Paine asked.

"Trash day is tomorrow," Terry answered matter- of-factly. "There's more of it out by the garage."

Paine noticed just how tight the set of her mouth was when she spoke.

Paine wandered down the hallway to the back bedroom. The two bottom drawers on the chest were out on the bed, empty_; the third of the closet where Bobby's shirts and shoes had been stored was cleared.

"Terry, what are you doing?"

She stood in the doorway with her arms folded. "Getting rid of it."

"Why?"

"Because he's not coming back."

"Terry-"

"He called me again, this morning, after the girls left for school. He wasn't drunk this time. He was very cool, not abusive at all. And he told me the same things." She looked Jack straight in the eye, unblinking. "Now I believe him."

"Terry-"

"Maybe you can come over next week and help with the garage and cellar. Take any of it you want. Take all the fishing equipment." Her matter-of-factness had begun to blend into anger. "Just get it out of here."

Once again Paine tried to speak, but her anger carried her through his words.

"You know what that bastard told me? He told me to give it all to you. It was like he was talking at his own funeral. 'Give it all to Jack,' he said. 'He likes to fish.' Like he was sitting across the breakfast table from me, talking about divorce."

"What else did he say?"

The matter-of-factness was gone now. "He was calm, for Christ's sake! He knew what he was saying. No one was making him talk, there wasn't any alcohol in him. When I asked him what it was, what was making him do it, a woman or what, he laughed. You know what else he said?"

Paine looked at her face, the fury in her eyes.

"He said I should hook up with you. He said you always liked the way my butt looked in a bathing suit, so I might as well let you see it without the suit."

"Terry, why don't you calm down."

Paine was almost frightened by her anger, her hardness. "I'm fine, Jack. Because now I know what my world is again. Before he called this morning I didn't, but now I do. I don't want you to bother looking for him anymore. I'll pay what I owe you when I can."

"Terry, I'm not going to drop this."

"Yes, you will!" she shouted. Paine thought she was going to hit him. "You will because I tell you to! I don't give a damn about the reason, that's not why I wanted you to find him. I wanted you to find him because I thought he needed me, that he was in trouble. But he's not in trouble, Jack. The bastard is not in trouble. He's gone."

"Terry, I won't drop it."

"Get out!" This time she did hit him, a balled-fist strike on his chest. "I don't want you involved in this! I don't want anybody involved! I'll take care of my family, I'll do whatever I have to!" She propelled him down the hallway toward the door with blows of her fist. "Get out, get out!"

The door was open, and then she slammed it behind him, and he heard her throwing things behind it, things from the boxes near the door, Bobby Petty's things, his shoes and socks and shirts, the buildup of a life ready for the garbage man.

They came at Paine from the alley next to his building. He heard them shuffle out quickly behind him, but he was too late to turn and they both hit him at once. He felt the hard meaty hit of a fist wrapped around metal over his right eye, and the tentative jab of another fist in his side. He almost went down, but they were stupid and waited to see if he would, and he recovered and went at the one with the metal in his fist, driving forward with his head lowered. He pushed the man back into the corner of the building and the air went out of the man with a whoosh.

The other tried to come at him then, but he feinted left and rose to the right and hit the man with an uppercut on the jaw. It was Koval, and Paine watched his eyes go fluttery and roll up into his head as he went down.

There was no one on the street, and Paine dragged Koval into the alley and then returned to pull Kohl in after him. Kohl was starting to breathe again so Paine hit him hard and fast, twice in the groin, and Kohl doubled in on himself and the air went out of him again. Koval wasn't moving. Paine made sure he was breathing, and then went over to Kohl and bent over and pushed his head back so he was looking into Paine's face.

"Are you really that stupid?" Paine asked.

Kohl said nothing_; his breath came in little hurt gasps and his hands were clenching and unclenching, trying to breathe for his lungs. He wanted to roll into a fetal position but Paine held his head back, not letting him.

"Got any more of those little brass pipes?"

Kohl seemed to nod, so Paine went into the man's coat pocket and found two more lengths of fist-width tubing.

"A real Boy Scout, right?" Paine said. "Be prepared."

Kohl tried to roll into a ball again. "We were just trying to do what we were told."

"By Anapolos? Didn't I tell you I'd take care of Anapolos?" Kohl just looked at him.

"Christ, you guys are dumb. You just lost your six months free rent." Paine got up. He looked at Koval; some of the focus seemed to be coming back into his eyes. "Go back to Easton, and forget about me. If you bother me again, I'll have you arrested. If I don't break open your heads first and let your feeble brains drip out. Understand?"

Paine looked at each of them until they nodded assent. "Fine," Paine said, leaving the alley.

Up in his office, Paine turned on his answering machine. Billy Rader's voice said, "Call me."

Paine called, and Billy answered the phone.

"What is it, Billy?"

Rader laughed. "I just wanted to tell you the skies are supposed to be crystal clear down here tonight."

"Fuck you, Billy."

Rader laughed again. "I also wanted to tell you I got a name on the fellow we found in Bob Petty's hotel room. Parker Johnson. Local boy. No one saw him go into the hotel room. Hold on, let me get my piece of paper." Rader went away from the phone, came back. "I'm just guessing, but would you say Petty was about six foot or so, maybe one hundred seventy pounds, waist size maybe thirty-four?"

"About that."

"Well, Johnson was five foot eight, a hundred forty pounds, waist size thirty" Rader gave a short chuckle. "The clothes we found in the room were Petty's, so he must have still been around. And the desk clerk described him as the man who checked into the room. He never came back to check out."

"Anything else?"

"Well, it seems some of Johnson's friends say he got very nervous a couple of days ago, and suddenly moved out of his boardinghouse."

Paine paused. "This guy Johnson have any record?"

"Clean. His boarding house buddies say he liked to drink, liked the prostitutes now and then, but otherwise was just an okay type."

"Thanks, Billy."

"Jack, any chance your friend Petty killed this guy?"

"I'd like to think he didn't."

"Sure, Jack. Anything else you'd like?"

"Any chance you could get into the airline reservation computers, find out if Bob Petty left Dallas-Fort Worth?"

"I'm already working on that. Also the buses and trains."

"I can't thank you enough, Billy."

"Any chance you'd like to sneak on back here tonight, go out to the scope with me?"

"I'd love to, Billy, but-"

"Your loss, Jack."

"Can I ask how you got all this?" Paine asked.

Rader laughed again. "Your friend Landers has a few rivals in the Fort Worth Police Department. Let's just say I've got a lot of friends in high and low places. I'll get back to you."

"Thanks again, Billy."

"I'll think of you tonight while I look at Omega Centauri."

"Like I said, fuck you, Billy."