Cold Fusion (11 page)

“Right, and now you’re wondering if the blotter somehow found a way to crawl inside the ice cube, allowing you to—”

“That’s crazy, man, you’re a mind reader. How did you know?”

He rolls his eyes. “Let’s try talking about something else.”

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?”

“Pussy. I love to talk about pussy. I have a question for you—how is it doing a black girl?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Simple curiosity,” he says. “I’ve never had the opportunity to taste anything other than white or Mongolian pussy.”

“Why do you think I know what black chicks taste like?”
 

“You’re not doing Starla?”
 

“Starla’s dead,” I say. The man has memory issues. He was at Josette’s funeral.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get technical on me. Starla number one’s gone, but I’m taking about Starla number two. I dig the second one better. She has more meat to her, and I don’t care for bony chicks.”

“I’m with you one hundred percent,” I admit.

“So you’re not doing that one? How come? It’s clear you want get in her pants.”

“I sure do, but Slider says we’re not allowed to mess with the talent.” And I don’t kiss and tell. But there may not be anything left to tell after I messed up tonight.
 

He snickers. “As if he’s not doing Sally.”

“Funny thing is, I don’t think he is,” I say. “And I think he’s a saint, because she’s ready to give it away anytime. I think if he said, ‘Let’s do it standing up behind the bar,’ she would go for it.”

“He’s an idiot for turning her away. Sally’s hot,” Dmitry says. “One should never turn down a good pussy.”

“Right again, my prince.” I slouch down and think. “You know, most scientists think that cold fusion is a myth.” 

Dmitry looks at me as if I’ve gone insane.

“I guess you don’t know what cold fusion is,” I say. “Well, it’s a nuclear reaction that occurs at room temperature.” Dmitry frowns, and I’m unable to count the number of folds on his forehead. I don’t let that stop me. “Well, those who don’t believe it exists are wrong, because I experienced it the first day I looked at Mimi. Yep, that day, I experienced a nuclear reaction at room temperature.”

Dmitry shakes his head and says, “Cold fusion, hey?”
 

I don’t think he gets it, but maybe I’m not as clear as I think I am.

“If I’m really high, we’re not going back tonight, and if we’re not going back, I think I’m gonna get me some shut-eye.”

“You do that,” he says and pulls a blanket out of nowhere.
 

He throws it at me, and I lay it on the floor. The tiles are really cold.
 

Dmitry wakes me up five minutes later. Well, it feels like five minutes later, but it’s not. Daylight streams though the planks boarding up the window.

“It’s way past noon,” he tells me. “Slider said I was to drop you off at the club so you could ride your bike home.”

I get vertical, feeling like an old man. Every time I move my head, wedges of wood slide in and out my temple, and shards of glass pop out of my eyes. The ride back to the Bush Fire is nothing less than torture. It’s so bad that when I finally get off the bike, I puke all over my shoes.

“You’re gonna be all right?” Dmitry asks, tossing my keys to me.

“Absolutely, my prince,” I say, wishing him away. I’d rather die alone than under his insolent gaze.
 

I take a few deep breaths after he leaves and decide to go see Mimi. She must be really mad at me. I need to explain why I left last night.

The ride to Mimi’s house isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, though I’ve never been so aware of the potholes. My head clears a little, and I stop on the way to get some water. I need to flush this crap out of my system.

All the benefits from the ride vanish when I reach Mimi’s front door. It’s been kicked open, and both rooms have been methodically destroyed. The mattress has been ripped apart and the furniture turned into chopped wood. The closet is empty except from some wire hangers and a few plastic bags. Only the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink show that the place was lived in yesterday.

And in a corner, right behind the open kitchen door, there is a chair with my leather jacket. It’s not entirely dry, but I put it on as I rush out the door. I force myself to breathe normally while I ride to All Saints School. Classes stop at two today, and that’s only half an hour away. By the school door, I pass the time drinking more water and walking around my bike like a caged lion. When the kids come rushing out, I scan the face as they run by me. Even though my mind refuses to consider the possibility, I have no choice but to admit that Toussaint’s not there. I step into the bushes to get closer to the gate and almost slip in a puddle. A few mothers look at me sideways. They must think I’m some sort of pervert hiding in the bushes and stalking kids. They can think what they want—I don’t care at all. The door closes after the last kid has left, and I don’t know what to do.

Think, just think.
Okay, let’s suppose she has taken Toussaint. That’s good, it means they’re together. Where would she go? Where would she take him? I don’t think she has any family other than Toussaint. If she had, they would have come to Josette’s funeral.
 

Do I know any of her friends? No. During all the time I spent with her and Toussaint, she never talked about any friends. The only one I know of is Marie, but I don’t even know Marie’s last name. I just know that she works at the hospital.
 

Maybe Sally will know something. They’re not good friends, but they took classes together, and they seem to like each other. And if Sally doesn’t know anything, then I’ll go through Mimi’s locker at work. If there’s nothing in the locker, I’ll go to her college and get her file and see who her emergency contact is. That person will know where Mimi is.

Now that I have some sort of a plan, I feel a little better. I ride home, toss my vomit-and-mud-caked jeans into the hamper, and set my jacket on the back of the chair. This thing will never be dry again.
 

Under the shower, I turn on the cold water and progressively get the temperature up until the water is scalding. I only stop when the tank runs out of hot water. I hope that, by now, my head is clear. That drug is weird. I really felt as though I were fine. I grab an old windbreaker and run down the stairs.

My mother calls from the kitchen, “David, I’ve got a sandwich for you.”
 

The idea of food makes my stomach flip, but I’m bound to be hungry at some point, so I run in the kitchen and take the bag she’s prepared for me.
 

“Are you gonna be on the night shift much longer?” she asks, lovingly brushing my hair out of my eyes.

“I’m not sure, Mom.” I give her a peck on the cheek and rush out of the kitchen.

She follows me out to the garage. “Well, I sure hope not, because I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I tell her before I ride away.
 

I need to spend more time with my mom. I wonder how she and Mimi will get along. I know she’ll fall madly in love with Toussaint. She adores kids, but Mimi is kind of standoffish when she doesn’t know people. It’s so weird. For the first time ever, I’m thinking of bringing a gal home, and for all I know, she hates me and may have vanished from my life.
 

I reach the club early, but I’m not the first. Sally’s car is already in the parking lot. So is Slider’s bike. Maybe Prince was right, and Slider is doing her, and I’m just an idiot who believes he abides by rules. I knock on the side door, and Sally opens it.
 

“What’s the matter, big guy? You’re so stoned you can’t remember where the door is?” she asks.

I growl, “That’s not funny.”

“Well, according to Prince, you were pretty funny all night.”
 

The twinkle in her eyes makes me forget my anger. She’s such a sweet girl, and she has no clue what’s happening.

“When did Mimi leave last night?” I ask.

She loses the smile. “Not long after you, and I’m going to give her a piece of my mind when she gets here tonight. Kim was sick last night, so it was just me, Suzy, and the lazy Kitten.”

“She didn’t tell you where or why she was going?”
 

“Of course not. Otherwise I would have made her stay,” she claims and then softens. “Unless the kid was sick or something…”
 

I push past Sally and tear Mimi’s locker door off its hinges. Sally’s eyes widen as we look in—it’s empty. Totally empty except for a twisted paper clip.

“Where’s her stuff?” Sally asks. “Yesterday, the locker was filled to the brim with Josette’s wigs, crazy shoes, and shit that Mimi didn’t have the heart to trash.”

I nod and stare at the paper clip. That’s just the way I would have unfolded it to get the disk out of the computer.

“Sally, what’s Mimi majoring in?” I wonder if Mimi tried to go retrieve the disk by herself during Suzy’s number. I should have known she was crazy enough to do this.

“Not English Lit, that’s for sure. The woman can’t spell to save her life. But she aced chemistry and math, and I hear she’s a real computer whiz.”

So she knew how to get the disk out without booting up the computer.
Oh crazy, crazy Mimi, what have you done!
I’m filled with dread. Did someone catch her coming down the stairs with the disk and Zach’s keys? Did she run because she realized she would get caught?

I walk out of the locker room and climb the stairs to look for Slider. He’s on the phone at his desk, and when I walk in, he gestures for me to keep quiet.

“Yeah sure,” he says and listens attentively to what he’s being told. “If you think that’s what needs to be done, I’m on it.” He looks at me, points two fingers in my direction, and pulls an imaginary trigger. “No, Zach, I insist. It was my mistake to hire him, so I’ll take care of this. I always clean up my own mess. It’s a matter of principle—” He listens again. “Consider it done. Tomorrow, he’ll no longer be a problem. Now what do you want to do about the black chick?”

I step closer to the desk, trying to hear what Zach is saying to Slider. The man is screaming, but I can’t quite get the words.

“Well, I’m sure my crew will be happy to take care of her as soon as you find her.”

My heart skips a beat. Thank God, they don’t have her. She went into hiding. Good girl, she grabbed her stuff and the kid and made it.

He hangs up. “They know you’re a cop, and they want you dead.”
 

I nod. I had gathered that much. “Did you find out how they know?”

“Nope, I have no clue, but Zach says he knows for sure,” Zach explains.

“So he’s ordering a hit?”

“Yeah, man, and it’s gotta be tonight.”

My mission is over, but that’s not what’s worrying me. “Captain Black will find a way to make it look real.”
 

“You know you can’t take Mimi and the kid with you. They have to get into WITSEC.”
 

“Right, the only problem is that I have no fucking clue where they are.” I bend over his desk and bark at him, “I trusted you. You were supposed to make sure she was safe.”
 

“She didn’t give a chance to protect her. She ran three seconds after you left,” he says, staying remarkably calm. He leans back in his chair. “She left Zach’s keys and belt in the dressing room and ran.”

“What happened?”

“One of Zach’s guys was out in the alley with Kitten, and he saw her leave as if the devil was on her heels, so he came back in to see what was up.” Slider runs a hand through his hair. “I followed Zach and his guy upstairs. I never had a chance to clean up or lock up behind her. Mimi had left the door open and incriminating files spread out on the desk.”

Oh, crap.
Mimi couldn’t just get the disk—she had to make sure I wasn’t feeding her some bullshit about how bad these guys are. I drop into one of the chairs across Slider. “What did she see?”

“Pictures of some high-level politicians with kids… stuff that even makes me want to throw up,” he confesses. “I would shoot those bastards myself with no second thoughts, but that’s not what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna keep on building the case and make sure we bury them so deep in their own shit they’ll never come back up for air.” He gets up and walks around the desk to put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. If she knows what’s good for her, she’s gone back to Haiti and she’s never coming back.”

I hate that he’s right. The best thing that can happen to her is to get as far away from here as she can. But I’m not only going to miss her; I’m going to miss the kid too.
 

Squeezing my shoulder, Slider says, “Come on, pal, I’ve got to kill you and get back here in time to supervise the girls tonight since my bouncer is gonna be AWOL.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as we leave his office.

“I’ve got this cabin up north, next to Vero Beach. You’re gonna stay there until Captain Black figures out what to do with you. It’s my hideaway. There’re supplies for a week, and it’s isolated enough that you can actually go outside for a few hours a day. Any family members you wanna call so they can have a warm and fuzzy memory of you before you vanish?”

I think about it. I wouldn’t know what to say to my mother, and I have no clue whether Lisa’s at work, in her dorm, or in class. I toy with the idea of leaving a message for Brian at his club, but I nix it. There’s nothing I can say that will make them feel better, and sooner or later—I hope sooner—they’re gonna hate me when they find out it’s a hoax.

“No, I’m good,” I tell him. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I spend the longest weeks of my life in Vero Beach doing almost nothing but getting in great physical shape. I run for an hour on the beach at the crack of dawn and again at sunset. In between, I read police novels, watch television, and go crazy wondering what the hell has happened to Mimi and Toussaint.

The local news mentions my funeral, and I watch the short footage of the ceremony with utter fascination. It’s taken from afar, but I see my mother and my sister. I think I recognize Tony and Nancy, but I don’t see Brian. Maybe he didn’t feel like attending my forty-five seconds of fame. I can’t blame him—I hate funerals too.