Lost Echoes (31 page)

“Poor Joey,” Harry said. “Thing is, Kayla, when I found him, I felt his fear. It wasn’t just fear of that moment in time, when he was murdered. It was all his fear. It all came out. And he was full of it. His whole life was fear. It was horrible. I felt so sorry for him.”

“Shit, Harry. Joey would have loved the joke. He would have. Think about it. After all he’s been through, what happened to him. What we did with his body, he would have appreciated it.”

“I reckon you’re right. But it’s starting to get to me now. I’m starting to feel sick about it.”

“I saw the chief today, and he didn’t say much of anything. Usually he’s pretty jovial, see. But today he was quiet, and everyone was asking, ‘What’s wrong with the chief?’ and I’m saying, ‘I couldn’t begin to guess,’ but, shit, I’m not guessing. I know. He’s got his own murder victim visiting on his couch, thawing out like a TV dinner. Good guys one, bad guys zero.”

“It was a good idea. Funny, anyway. Now he’s got the body.”

“Your friend Tad, he’s got a wicked mind.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “He does. He’s a guy you don’t want for an enemy. He’s got this, what do you call it…sense of irony.”

“I’ll say.”

“Thing is,” Harry said, pulling Kayla closer, “what’s next?”

“We can try another position.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do we have to think about that right now?”

“I guess not,” Harry said, and kissed her. “But do you ever think maybe this isn’t going to work out so well? Now that they have the body, they can maybe find some DNA on it, a smudge where I had hold of it. Seems like that shit’s all over the place.”

“You wore gloves. We all wore gloves. We were careful. DNA is real enough, but it isn’t magic. It’s not like those TV shows. Those things are science fiction.”

“Consider this, however. My life, my gift, so to speak. It’s pretty science fiction unto itself.”

“Point taken. But it was great getting something on that bastard, Harry. You got to understand, he killed my daddy. And that little sign, that was the kicker. ‘We know.’”

“You made a very good sign, no doubt. Very artsy-craftsy. But it still doesn’t look good for me. I can’t even go back to my apartment. I’m afraid it’ll be me next time, hanging from that light fixture. They haven’t stopped looking for me, to nail me semilegal or in some dark alley somewhere. In the end it’s all the same. I don’t get to do Christmas shopping this year.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. Guess I’m gloating over my little piece of revenge. But it isn’t over, baby. We got to keep thinking. Thing to do, is we got to turn it on them. Play it so smart and tight they won’t know me and Tad are connected to you. They don’t know you have allies. They don’t even know to look here, and I’m careful when I come over. I use my car, I park in the back. I can even fuck quieter I have to.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“Tad might.”

“He’s way down the hall. Thing is, Kayla, I’ve just got a feeling, you know, this sort of built-in shit detector telling me I’m fucked. And maybe you and Tad too. Like maybe we’re a whole lot too damn clever for our own good.”

Kayla rubbed her hand across his chest, and then lower. Her perfume filled Harry’s nostrils, made them flare. God, that sweet and musky smell. Wonderful.

“Well,” she said, “if it turns bad, what say let’s go out happy as we can make ourselves?”

56

Two days later, midnight, Harry and Tad sat at the living room table playing chess. So far Tad had whipped Harry’s ass twice and had eaten most of the taco chips, turning the bag toward himself, making Harry work for any he might want.

“You really need more practice,” Tad said.

“Chess, or capturing taco chips?”

“Both.”

“My mind is drifting.”

“You still need more practice. The knight—the horse, as you call it—doesn’t move in a fucking X pattern. I’ve told you that. And point his head in the direction of my men, not back toward you. It’s disconcerting. It’s like he’s riding backward.”

“Tad, there’s no knight on the horse. It’s just a horse’s head.”

“Have you no imagination?”

“Not that much.”

Tad turned the knight around so that it faced the proper direction.

Harry said, “Happy?”

“Fucking ecstatic. Listen here. No moment beyond the moment you’re in is known to you. You plan ahead, of course. You take precautions, but all you can do in between is live as best you can.”

“Is this like a lesson?”

“It is, grasshopper.”

“You’re saying life is preordained?”

“No. That’s stupid. I hear people say that, then I say, ‘Hey, you look both ways before you cross the street?’ And they say: ‘Sure, of course. I don’t want to get killed.’ And then I say, ‘If it’s all truly preordained? What’s it gonna matter, it’s all in the cards already?’ So much for predestination. We all have a built-in survival card and we play it whenever we need it. You can fuck with the deck, Harry. Sometimes really good, sometimes not so good. In the end, the game folds for everyone, but you can sure draw in some big pots before that moment.”

Before Harry could respond, his cell phone rang.

It was Kayla. Her voice was husky-sounding. “Come see me.”

“Aren’t you at work?”

“I’m at home.”

Harry walked outside, into the backyard. It was chilly and moonless.

“I don’t know I can go out,” Harry said. “Not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’ve got something I really need to show you. I can’t bring it there…. Something’s happened. It’ll be easier if you come here. Walk to your place, get your car, drive it over.”

“My car?”

“Yes.”

“That seems risky.”

“It is, a little, but I can’t come there. I’ve found something you’ve got to see, and I can only show it to you here.”

“Kayla, I don’t know. Why there?”

“I know what I’m asking. But if you’re careful, you’ll be okay. Don’t bring Tad. He would be in the way on this one. You have got to see this. I think it’s going to fix things for you. Make it quick.”

“Can’t you just bring it here?”

“It’s too heavy. Well, I could. But I’d be more likely to get caught than you, lugging it around.”

“It? Heavy?”

“Harry. Trust me.”

“Yeah…well…it’s a little mysterious.”

“Damned if I don’t know it. I wouldn’t ask it if it wasn’t important, Harry. Trust me.”

“All right.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I know what I’m asking. Be careful. Be very careful.”

Tad looked up as Harry came back in. “Kayla, of course,” Tad said. The phone was in Tad’s name, and only three people had the cell phone number. Kayla, Harry’s mother, and himself. So it wasn’t much of a guess.

“Yeah. She was just telling me things could be working out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Nothing specific. I think she was trying to be encouraging.”

“Wasn’t I laying some philosophy on you when you left?”

“You were.”

“Well, whatever it was, I’m all out of it. Probably full of shit anyway. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough. I’m off to bed.”

Harry went to his room, left the door slightly ajar so he could hear Tad down the hall, hear him doing his throat-clearing shit, the bathroom toilet being flushed, gargling, the sink water running.

Harry felt like hell not telling Tad about Kayla’s call. Didn’t seem right, even if Kayla was correct that Tad didn’t need to know everything. He and Kayla, they had a piece of this business, but Tad, he had no reason to get in any deeper. He was already up to his neck. No use dropping him in over his head. He waited some more, then slipped out, hands in coat pockets, walking fast.

It was a longer walk than he remembered, and the cold air bit at his lungs. There was no moon, just streetlights, and he kept thinking he’d see a cop car coming around a corner, a light flashing on him, nailing him. But it didn’t happen.

He got to thinking about what Kayla was asking, and he started to get mad. Started to get mad at himself for listening. There wasn’t anything worth his getting out here in the dark. He should have had her come get him, let him lie down in the backseat. Should have told Tad after all. He thought about all this, but he kept walking.

He got to his place and watched from across the street, stood in the shadow of an elm.

Cops could easily post a watch at his place. He would if he were them. They could hide and wait for him to show up for his car, get something from his house. The whole damn thing made him nervous. Course, Kayla was a cop. She’d probably know if it was done through the department, any kind of watchdog business like that. But it could be the chief, the sergeant. They could be doing it on their own.

Course, that would be harder, just the two of them. How many shifts could they manage?

Maybe the thing was to turn himself in, or go to Tyler, tell the cops there the situation, get some help.

Yeah. That would be good: “I hear sounds. I found a dead body in my house. Me and some friends, one of them a cop, put the corpse in a freezer; then we decided to put it on the chief’s couch with a sign around its neck, ’cause we know he and the sergeant murdered Joey because I saw it in a fucking vision.”

Harry took a deep breath and let out a puff of cold white air. He was just about to step across the street when he was nabbed and spun around.

Tad said, “You don’t sneak for shit, kid. What the fuck are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to tell you.”

“No shit. Figured that much. You got to learn to watch behind you.”

“I did.”

“I was in the shadows. You had your shit together better, you’d have seen me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Tad, I didn’t mean to sneak.”

“You call that sneaking? You came in from that call, you had a look on your face like you were gonna steal the silverware. Since I use mostly plastic throwaways, I knew that was out. Just waited till you got ready to do what you were gonna do. And by the way, don’t try to play poker. You can’t hide shit with that face. Come on, kid. Give me the rundown.”

Harry told Tad what Kayla had told him.

“Look, whatever she’s got, she can tell me,” Tad said. “Fact is, this hurts my goddamn sensitive feelings. I’m in on this, kid. I said that and meant it. Can’t really get any fucking deeper, you understand?”

“I’m sorry. Just she’s got something she wants me to see and she said not to bring you.”

“Something heavy? That’s what she said?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s heavy, how’d she get it to her house, and now how come she can’t move it?”

“I don’t know…. You’re not saying—”

“That I don’t trust Kayla? Course not. She wanted to nail your ass, help the cops out, get that big promotion, she could have had you nailed long ago. Your balls would be bronzed and mounted on a piece of board. She’s got a stake in this herself, so I trust her. It’s a screwy setup, no shit, but I’ve got no reason to doubt her.”

“You said that twice.”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

“I’m just suspicious by nature. Kind of guy that’s skeptical of being skeptical. So, though I trust her just fine, what say we do some insurance?”

“I feel guilty doing a thing like that.”

“Me too. For about fifteen minutes.”

Harry and Tad pulled over a block up from Kayla’s place, next to a big sweet gum that grew out from the curb, alongside a clutch of tall, sharp-bladed bushes. The moon made the bushes throw swordlike shadows. They got out of the car, stood in those shadows. Harry unlocked the trunk.

“I don’t know, man,” Harry said, “the fucking trunk? It’s nasty in there. You could die of carbon monoxide or something.”

“Not just going a block down. Don’t lock it. Just let me hold it nearly shut. After a bit, I’ll get out and check around, see if things are okay.”

“You could just ride in the driver’s seat.”

“You’re expected. I don’t want to embarrass you by showing up like that. Just do it my way.”

“This is bullshit, Tad. Kayla wouldn’t play me.”

“Talia played you.”

“Different.”

“Do it for me. I get there, look around, take a peek inside from the outside, things seem all right, I’ll walk home.”

“Too far.”

“I’ll walk up a few blocks, go to the shopping center there, maybe catch a picture show, get a taxi home. Come on, do it. We’re out here in the big middle of everyone, someone puts an eye to their window, they might see us, wonder what the fuck I’m doing getting in the trunk. They could call the cops, and, as we both know, they aren’t the folks we want to see right now.”

“All right.”

Harry lifted the trunk and Tad climbed inside and pulled the lid down most of the way, left a crack he could see out of. “Drive slow,” he said.

Harry parked out back in the alley. As he got out, he saw Winston sniffing about. The dog raised its head and looked at him, then went back to sniffing, eating something out of a bush at the corner of the house.

A gritty-kitty turd, most likely.

Harry went through an alley between houses to the front of Kayla’s place and, feeling nervous, he knocked.