"Keep going!" she ordered. "He's running for his car. It's headed
the wrong way. They posted a man out in back. I didn't know it until
yesterday afternoon."
A light ahead turned red. There was cross traffic. I ran the light.
Tires yelped and horns blatted with indignation. I barely made the
next light. She kept watching back over her shoulder. It took fifteen
minutes to get to the southbound highway, the road to Hillston.
Once we were out on the highway and I was able to open it up a little,
she turned around. I glanced at her. Her left eye was badly puffed and
discolored. Her left cheek was bruised. I remembered the story of the
small girl who had stayed home from school because her brother had
blacked her eye.
"What happened to your face?"
"I got bounced around a little. People got annoyed at me."
"What the hell have you been mixed up in?"
"Don't worry about it."
"I'd like to know how much chance I was taking."
"You weren't taking it. I was taking it. They didn't want me to leave.
Anybody leaves they get the idea there's a subpoena in the background.
And a committee and an investigation. They were careless. I learned too
much. So they had a problem. Do they kill me or watch me. They watched
me. I'm stupid, I guess. I was having a big time. I thought I could
pull out any time. I didn't know they played so rough. If I'd guessed
it could be that rough, I wouldn't have gotten that far in."
"You can't go back, then."
"I can't ever go back. Don't make jokes. Just drive as fast as you can."
She had changed in the short time since I'd seen her. There had been a
lot of arrogance about her. Confidence and arrogance, and a flavor of
enjoyment. That was gone. She was bitter and half-frightened and sullen.
I drove. The rain finally stopped. The sky had a yellow look. Tires
made a wet sound on the road. The ditches were full. We went through a
village. Children romped in the schoolyard under the yellow sky.
I did not like what I was going to have to do to her. She had given me
a certain measure of trust. She had no way of knowing that the stakes
had changed. She could not know I was willing to betray her--that I had
to betray her. I knew I could not risk taking her to the motel. She
would want her luggage first of all. She would want to check on the
money. It was gone. She would want an explanation. And there was no
explanation I could give her.
I would betray her, but it was the money balanced against Ruth's life.
It seemed fantastic that I could have seriously considered going away
with this woman who sat so silently beside me, fists clenched nervously
against the dark fabric of her skirt. It seemed fantastic that I
could have gotten wound up in the whole thing. Charlotte was several
lifetimes in the past. When I had come home I had felt half alive. Now
I was entirely alive. I knew what I wanted, and why, and knew that I
would go to any lengths to get what I wanted.
"Are you serious in thinking they would kill you?" I asked.
She laughed. A single short, flat sound. "I know where the body is
buried. Ever hear that expression? It was a party I didn't want to go
on in the first place. I knew it would be a brawl. It was. A man got
himself killed. He got too excited. Not a bad guy. Young guy. Rich
family. Got a big whomp out of running around with the rougher element.
You know. Liked to know people by their first name, the ones who had
been in jail. Liked to be able to get his parking tickets fixed. He
got suddenly taken dead. Sort of an accident. A very important fellow
shot him in the head. I was the only outsider. I know where they put
him. The family has spent a fortune in the last five years, looking for
their kid. They're still looking. It could be very bad. It was very bad
at the time. I'd never seen anything like that before."
"They would kill you?"
"If they think I'll talk. If they were sure of it and had a chance.
There wouldn't be much heat over me. Not over this pair of round heels.
The kid they killed is real heat. The man with the gun was drunk. I was
with the man with the gun. The kid thought he was too drunk to know or
care. He had his arms around me when he was shot in the head. When the
bullet hit his head, he grabbed onto me so hard I couldn't breathe for
a week without it hurting. Then he let go and fell down and tried to
get up and went down for good. It was at a farm. They put him in an
old cistern and filled it with big rocks. They had his car repainted
and sold through channels. If nothing happens in six months or so,
they'll stop worrying about me, and maybe they'll stop looking. But
I know what I'm going to do. Blond dye job. Maybe glasses. I'll feel
better if I don't look like myself."
I was wondering how I could keep her away from the motel and still
stall long enough to get to the Rasi place at one.
She helped out by saying, suddenly, "What's been going on down in
Hillston, anyhow? Eloise and her boy friend under the cement. That
Stamm girl missing. George knocking himself off. Sounds like it has
been pretty wild down there."
"I want to talk to you about that."