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"I don't believe that," he said.
She turned into Main Street. At eight o'clock in the morning, most of the shops were closed and only a few people were on the sidewalks. None of them looked like tourists. Barbara Deane pulled up to the sidewalk at the first intersection. A black and white sign said OAK STREET OAK STREET. "My house is right up the street. Is it all right if I drop you off here?"
She suddenly looked shy and uncertain. "I know you're busy, but would you think about coming to my house for dinner some night? It would be nice to cook for someone else, and I enjoy your company, Tom."
"I'd like that very much," he said.
"I might be able to tell you some things about the summer Jeanine died without being disloyal to your grandfather. After all, the important thing to remember is that whatever he did, he did it to protect your mother."
"Just name the day," Tom said.
She touched his arm to say one more thing.
"Your mother told you that she saw a man running through the woods on that night?"
"It must have been Anton Goetz. It couldn't have been anyone else."
"Well, it couldn't have been Anton Goetz, either. Goetz walked with a cane, and he limped. It was a very romantic romantic limp. Anton Goetz couldn't move faster than a slow walk. Gloria might not have seen anything at all-she had a very active imagination, and she couldn't always tell the difference between it and reality." limp. Anton Goetz couldn't move faster than a slow walk. Gloria might not have seen anything at all-she had a very active imagination, and she couldn't always tell the difference between it and reality."
"I know that," he said, and got out of the car.
As he walked back along the highway an hour later, the black Lincoln coasted past him, drew ahead, and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. The Lincoln's back doors opened, and two men in grey suits and sungla.s.ses got out of the car. One of them was too fat to b.u.t.ton his suit, and the other was as skinny as a hound. Both of them had long sideburns and swept-back Elvis hair. They looked at him with bored indifferent faces. The lean one put his hands in his pockets. Jerry Hasek, also in a grey suit but without the sungla.s.ses, opened the driver's door and got out and looked unhappily at Tom across the top of the car. "We're going to give you a ride," he said. "Come on, get in the car."
"I'd rather walk." Tom looked sideways into the woods.
"Oh, don't do that," Jerry said. "What good is that? Just get in the car."
The other two began coming toward him.
"Nappy and Robbie," Tom said. "The Cornerboys."
Robbie took his hands out of his pockets and glanced at his fat companion, who scowled at Tom. Nappy's sideburns almost reached his jaw.
"I remember you," Nappy said.
"Just get him in the car," Jerry said. "We already took too long doing this. Tom, get sensible. We don't want to hurt you, we're just supposed to bring you back."
"Why?"
"Somebody wants to talk to you."
"So get in the car," Nappy said in a thick, constricted voice that sounded as if someone had once stepped on his throat.
Tom walked past Nappy and Robbie and opened the front pa.s.senger door. All three bodyguards watched him get in, and then got in themselves.
"Okay," Nappy sighed. He looked like a bullfrog, seated in the back of the car. Nappy sighed. He looked like a bullfrog, seated in the back of the car.
"Okay," said Robbie. "Okay, okay, okay."
Jerry started the car and drove down the highway back toward the lake.
Nappy leaned forward from the back seat. "What's this Cornerboy stuff, huh? Where do you come off, with this Cornerboy stuff?"
"Just keep quiet, will you?" asked Jerry. "And you too, Pasmore. I want to talk about some stuff before we get back."
"Good," Tom said.
Jerry rubbed his face and glanced at him. "A long time ago, you came to my house. My sister and me came out to talk to you. When my friends turned up, you ran away and you got hurt. n.o.body meant for that to happen."
"I don't think you were deliberately trying to kill me," Tom said. "I got scared when I saw these two guys waving knives."
"Everybody should have handled things in another way," Jerry said. "The main thing was, my father sent me out to see what you wanted."
"I realize that now," Tom said.
"I mean, there's already enough excitement," Jerry said.
"Right," Tom said.
"So what was that about the dog?" Jerry asked.
Robbie snickered.
"I heard something scream."
Nappy said, "I guess we all make mistakes, huh?"
"n.o.body says another word about that," Jerry said. "You hear me?"
"Dog," Robbie said, and Nappy made a little uh oh uh oh sound that ended almost as soon as it had begun. sound that ended almost as soon as it had begun.
Jerry took his hands off the wheel and whirled around so fast that he seemed nearly not to have moved at all-Tom saw only a blur-and then Jerry was leaning over the back of the front seat, whacking Robbie with both hands.
"a.s.sHOLE! s.h.i.+THEAD! f.u.c.kING r.e.t.a.r.d!"
Robbie held his hands up before his face. "You hit my-you got my-"
"YOU THINK I CARE? G.o.dd.a.m.n YOU, I TOLD YOU-"
The Lincoln drifted slowly into the oncoming lane. Tom grabbed the wheel and steered it back. The return of Vic Pasmore The return of Vic Pasmore, he thought. Jerry smacked Robbie once more and turned around and grabbed the wheel away from Tom. His face was a deep red.
"Okay? Okay? We got that straight?"
"We got it straight," Nappy said.
"We d.a.m.n well better have that straight," Jerry said.
"You busted my shades," Robbie said.
Tom looked back over the seat. Nappy was staring straight ahead. He looked like a man on a bus. A smear of blood slid down Robbie's cheek. A cut on the bridge of his nose bled toward its tip. A bow had been snapped off his sungla.s.ses. Robbie stared at the two broken pieces. He glowered at Tom, then rolled down his window and tossed the sungla.s.ses into the road.
"All right," Jerry said. "Now we're all straight."
He swung the car into the b.u.mpy track that led to the lake.
Tom expected them to pull up before the compound, but Jerry rolled past it without even a sideways glance. They continued past the Spence lodge and stopped in front of Glendenning Upshaw's. "Okay," he said. "Let's go in and finish this bulls.h.i.+t."
All four of them got out of the car.
"You first, sport," Jerry said. "This where you live, right?"
Tom rounded the car. Nappy and Robbie put their hands in their pockets and looked up at the big lodge as if they were thinking about buying it for a vacation home. Robbie had wiped the trickle of blood from the bridge of his nose, but two red stripes lay on the side of his face like warpaint. Tom went up the stone steps. Jerry crowded him from behind, and the other two sauntered toward the steps after them, looking up and down the path.
"Wipe the side of your face, for Chrissake," Jerry said.
Tom swung open the screen door, and Jerry held it while he opened the front door. They walked inside. Jerry still crowded him from behind.
Buddy Redwing stood up like a jack-in-the-box from the sofa that faced the door. He was wearing a stretched-out pale green polo s.h.i.+rt and wide khaki shorts. "You took enough time."
"We had to look all over the place for him." Jerry placed the tips of his fingers on Tom's shoulders and gently urged him forward.
Nappy and Robbie wandered to opposite sides of the big sitting room. Nappy sauntered to the door of the study, opened it, and peered in. Kip Carson, in only a faded pair of cut-off jeans and flip-flop sandals, walked through from the kitchen, holding a red can of Coca-Cola. He raised the can in a salute.
"What are you doing here?" Tom said.
"That's pretty good, coming from you," Buddy said. "As far as I know, you're a total charity case. You have no business being up here at all. You're nothing but a serious pain in the a.s.s."
"Buddy, I wish you and your friends would get out of this lodge."
Buddy threw out his arms and turned from side to side, appealing to both sides of the room. "Oh my G.o.d, he wishes we would get out of this lodge. That's so...so f.u.c.king decisive decisive, I hardly know what to say."
Nappy chuckled on cue, and Kip Carson took a slug of c.o.ke and sat on the sofa behind Buddy to enjoy the show. Jerry and Robbie wandered around the room. When Buddy turned to them, they tried to look attentive. "I mean, this is really rare." He turned back to face Tom. "Let's get this straight. As far as I'm concerned, you're just this guy who all of a sudden appeared. You're a jerk. You don't understand anything-you don't know how things work."
"Are you finished?" Tom said. "Or is there more?"
Buddy pointed a thick index finger at Tom's chest. "You get a ride up here in our private plane with my my guests. You sit at guests. You sit at my my table. You ride in table. You ride in my my car." He took an angry, jittery step sideways, then moved in front of Tom again. "And the second you show up, my girlfriend suddenly decides she doesn't want to spend so much time with me. All of a sudden, everything's a little car." He took an angry, jittery step sideways, then moved in front of Tom again. "And the second you show up, my girlfriend suddenly decides she doesn't want to spend so much time with me. All of a sudden, everything's a little different different I get the feeling that you've been messing around where you don't belong, Pasmore." I get the feeling that you've been messing around where you don't belong, Pasmore."
"Where don't I belong?" Tom asked.
"You don't belong anywhere!" Buddy exploded. "G.o.dd.a.m.n it! You know how long I've been going out with Sarah? Three years! We have a whole G.o.dd.a.m.ned relations.h.i.+p!"
Tom smiled, and Buddy's eyes seemed to shrink within their sockets. "Don't you get it? Sarah belongs to me. Sarah is mine mine. You don't have anything to do with her."
"You can't own other people," Tom said. "People make up their minds by themselves."
Buddy reared back. "Is that what you think? You ought to know better, considering your family."
"Lay off my family, you spoiled, lazy, indifferent s.h.i.+thead," Tom said, stung.
Buddy pressed on into what he perceived as Tom's weakness. "We own old man Upshaw, Pasmore. You think he does anything we don't know about? Your grandfather belongs to us. There's no umbrella over you."
Tom blinked, but did not react in any other way.
"You want me to explain your problem to you?"
"Can you?"
Buddy waved his hand before his face as if scattering a cloud of gnats. "You problem is, you don't know the rules. Because you don't know the rules, you don't know the right way to act. I'm a Redwing. Let's start with that. Nothing happens up here unless it's okayed by us. The second thing is, you don't mess with another guy's girlfriend. That is an error error. If you expect me to be civilized about this, you don't know me, because I don't intend intend to be civilized about it." to be civilized about it."
"It's funny," Tom said, "but I guess I never did expect you to be civilized, Buddy."
"You f.u.c.king twerp!" Buddy roared. "You see these guys here? They work for me! If I ask them to do something to you, they'll do it! But I don't need them to get rid of you-I can do that myself."
Tom stepped backwards, shaking with fear, anger, and distaste-an intense and unpleasant odor, of yeast and secret dirt, seemed to float out of Buddy's pores. "The dumbest thing you could have done was to try to send me home in a cast. Did you think that would make you irresistible?"
"Jesus, what bulls.h.i.+t," Buddy said. "Could somebody tell me what this guy is talking about?" He looked over his shoulder at Jerry.
"He's crazy," Jerry said.
"He's all all f.u.c.ked up," said Kip Carson, sounding faintly admiring. f.u.c.ked up," said Kip Carson, sounding faintly admiring.
"What bulls.h.i.+t," Buddy repeated in a wondering voice. "This guy can't say anything that isn't one hundred percent pure bulls.h.i.+t." He swayed back and forth, swinging his thick short arms. "Didn't I just say that I don't need anybody else to take care of you? Why do you think I brought you here? I'm telling you right now to stay away from Sarah Spence. Whatever you think about her is wrong. Do you understand that? Maybe she played with you a little bit-she could do that. But I understand her a lot better than you do, believe me."
"I don't think you understand her at all," Tom said.
"She's trying to make me jealous," Buddy said. "She knows I see a couple girls at Arizona, and she wanted to get back at me. And it worked! I'm jealous, okay? I'm p.i.s.sed off-but you don't want me p.i.s.sed off at you, Pasmore."
"Why, what are you going to do?" Tom asked.
Buddy shoved a forefinger into Tom's chest. "I'll leave you in pieces. Is that clear enough for you? You're so insignificant, I shouldn't have to take the trouble, but if you push me, I'll take you apart."
"I know what you should do," Tom said, pushed past self-control. "Tell yourself she isn't good enough for you. You're going to be saying that sooner or later, so why not start now? Tell yourself you're lucky you found out in time."
Nappy snickered. Buddy balled his fists and grimaced and swung a roundhouse punch at Tom's head. Tom ducked out of the way. Buddy swung with his other arm and missed again. Tom stepped back and took a quick look at Jerry and the others, who were doing nothing but looking on impa.s.sively. Buddy came flat-footed toward Tom and shot out his right hand. Instinctively, Tom stepped inside the blow, and hit him hard in the stomach. It was like ramming his fist into a bowl of oatmeal. Buddy clapped both hands to his stomach and sank to his knees.
"Oh, h.e.l.l," Jerry said. He flapped his hand at Nappy, and the two of them got Buddy up on his feet and helped him toward the door. Kip Carson set down the can of c.o.ke and followed them outside. Tom wiped his face with his hands and tried to stop trembling. He went through the open wooden door and pushed aside the screen. Jerry Hasek stood on the top step with his hands on his hips, and Kip was floating uncertainly alongside the car. Buddy struggled to breathe as Robbie and Nappy opened the Lincoln's pa.s.senger door and got him inside. Kip Carson climbed in the back and waited. "You talk too much," Jerry said from the top step.
"So does he," Tom said.
Tom spent the rest of the morning alone. He called Sarah, but no one answered in their lodge. He knocked on her door. No one responded, and he went down past the compound. The Lincoln and the Cadillac were both gone. He walked all the way around the lake, hearing nothing but birds and insects and an occasional fish slapping the water. Tom felt like the last person left on earth-the whole Redwing caravan had moved on. When he came back around Roddy Deepdale's lodge to his own, he changed into his bathing suit and swam until his muscles felt tired and relaxed.
At the club, Marcello sat beneath a lamp on a pale couch, reading a comic book. He stood when Tom entered, yawned, and strolled through a bleached wooden door marked OFFICE OFFICE. Tom went upstairs to the empty dining room. The elderly waiter he had seen that morning got up from a bar stool and led him to a table near the bandsh.e.l.l.
"Where is everybody?" Tom asked.