Go With Me (6 page)

“Kevin was a god damned mess, is what he was,” said Coop. “Had a juvenile record about a hundred pages long. Turned eighteen, never looked back. Graduated, like.”

“Funny how often you see that,” said Conrad.

“See what?” Coop asked him.

“Blackway stopped him one night,” said D.B.

“Stopped him?” asked Conrad.

“Blackway was one of Wingate’s deputies,” said Whizzer. “He stopped Kevin on Route Ten for operation of a vehicle with defective equipment.”

“Headlight was out,” said D.B.

“Stopped both of them,” said Coop. “She was driving.”

“That’s right, too,” said Whizzer. “She was. I forgot.”

“Kevin had a bunch of dope in the car,” said Coop. “Bunch of pot.”

“Had it hidden away under the backseat,” said D.B. “Where nobody would ever think to look for it.”

“Clever kid,” said Coop.

“I told you he was sharp,” said Whizzer.

“Master criminal,” said D.B.

“The girl didn’t know Kevin had anything in the car,” said Whizzer.

“She said she didn’t know,” said D.B.

“She didn’t,” said Whizzer.

“Blackway did, though,” said Coop.

“Sure, he did,” said Whizzer. “Blackway knew looking for dope under Kevin Bay’s backseat was like looking for ants at a picnic.”

“Like looking for hot dogs at Fenway,” said Coop.

“He also knew,” Whizzer went on,“with Kevin’s record and him being eighteen and not a juvenile anymore, he was in real trouble this time. He was going away.”

“So he decided to work on him a little,” said D.B. “Put a little weight on him. What do you call it?”

“You call it a shakedown,” said Conrad.

“Decided to shake him down a little,” said D.B.

“That’s a thing Blackway has going for him,” Whizzer said.

“Had going,” said Coop.

“Had,” said Whizzer. “Kind of a sideline he had. Deputy don’t get paid much, you know.”

“You got to hustle,” said Coop

“You got to be an entrepreneur,” said D.B.

“Blackway took the dope,” said Whizzer.

“Confiscated it,” said Coop.

“Impounded it,” said D.B.

“Told Kevin he’d let him go this time,” said Whizzer. “Told him it’d be a good idea for him to get clear out of town, because Blackway was going to be all over him from now on.”

“Kevin did the smart thing,” said D.B.

“First time in his life,” said Coop.

“He took off. Where is Kevin? South, somewhere, ain’t he?” asked Coop.

“Orlando,” said Whizzer. “His dad’s brother’s down there. Kevin’s working for him.”

“Doing what?” asked Conrad.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Whizzer said.

“Keeping out of jail, it looks like,” said D.B.

“Or not,” said Coop.

“Or not,” said D.B.

“What happened with the dope?” Conrad asked.

“Anybody’s guess,” said Coop.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it found its way to some of Blackway’s friends,” said D.B.

“Friends from out of state,” said Coop.

“Associates,” said D.B.

“Business connections Blackway’s got here and there,” said Coop.

“He left his girl behind, though, I guess?” Conrad said. “Kevin did.”

“Well, that was the thing,” said Whizzer.“Kevin takes off, but his girlfriend don’t. She stays. Not only that, she files a complaint.”

“Against Blackway,” said Coop.

“Pistol, she is,” said D.B.

“She goes to the troopers,” said Coop.

“State police,” said D.B.

“Tells them Deputy Blackway’s got this thing going on the side where he smokes the evidence,” said Coop.

“Sells the evidence,” said D.B.

“Girl tells them she’s a witness to Blackway doing that,” said Coop.

“State police don’t seem to get too excited by the news,” said D.B.

“They remain calm,” said Coop.

“Fact is, they knew all about it,” said Whizzer.

“No, they didn’t,” said D.B. “They just didn’t want to touch it. Because of Wingate. Wingate’s the sheriff. Blackway’s his deputy. Wingate’s responsible. They didn’t want to make trouble for Wingate.”

Whizzer laughed gently and shook his head at D.B.

“You don’t think so?” asked D.B.

“Keep dreaming, son,” said Whizzer.

“Point is,” said Coop,“the troopers tell her it’s a sheriff’s department matter. Blackway ain’t a state cop. He’s a sheriff’s deputy. Wingate’s the sheriff.”

“Wingate’s Blackway’s boss,” said Whizzer.

“Plus, Wingate’s about the only person in this part of the state who ain’t scared shitless of Blackway,” said Coop.

“Whizzer ain’t scared of him,” said D.B. “Are you, Whiz?”

“’Course not,” said Whizzer. “I like Blackway.”

“The girl turned him in,” said Conrad.“She wasn’t scared of him.”

“She is now,” said Coop.

“Nate the Great didn’t seem to be scared of Blackway,” Conrad said.

“He don’t know no better,” said Coop.

“Lester?” asked Conrad.

“Sure, Les is scared of Blackway,” said Whizzer. “But Les is a clever old boy. He’ll be ready.”

“Les knows what he’s doing,” said Coop.

“Les knows a trick or two,” said D.B.

“Point is,” said Coop, “state police go to Wingate, explain to Wingate about Blackway’s sideline, there, with the dope.”

“Wingate fires Blackway,” said Whizzer. “Turns Blackway into a civilian.”

“No more car,” said Coop.

“No more uniform,” said D.B.

“No more gun,” said Coop.

“No more evidence to impound for personal use or later sale to your friends from out of state,” said Whizzer.

“All on account of that girl,” said D.B.

“She pissed in his well,” said Coop.

“Blackway’s hot, now,” said Whizzer.

“Kevin’s long gone,” said Coop.

“Followed the sun,” said D.B.

“Girl’s still here,” said Whizzer.

“Why?” Conrad asked. “Why didn’t she go with Kevin?”

“Didn’t want to, it looks like,” said Coop.

“Didn’t get asked, maybe,” said D.B.

“You heard her,” said Whizzer. “She won’t be run off. Not even by Blackway.”

“Balls on her,” said Coop.

“’Course, she don’t know Blackway,” said D.B.

“She does now,” said Coop.

“Point is,” said Whizzer, “Blackway ain’t going to just let this one go. He wants to teach her a lesson.”

“He watches her,” said D.B.

“Follows her around,” said Coop.

“Stalks her,” said D.B.

“Like she said,” said Coop.

“She ought to have left town when Kevin did, it looks like,” said D.B.

“She ain’t as smart as she thinks she is,” said Coop.

“She’s dumb, is what she is,” said D.B.

“Edie didn’t think she was dumb,” said Whizzer. “When she worked there. Edie thought real well of her. She got the place organized. Customers liked her. Edie thought she was a real bright girl.”

“How bright could she be,” D.B. asked, “getting together with Kevin?”

“But you see that over and over, here, don’t you?” said Conrad. “I was saying before.”

“See what?” Coop asked him.

“Where?” D.B. asked him.

“Here,” said Conrad. “Around here. Women, young women, who are more or less bright, cleaned up, straight shooters, capable, strong. Want to work. Anyplace else, they’d end up with good solid young guys, guys just like them. But around here they go for guys who are the opposite, who are going nowhere except jail, who are nothing but trouble. They end up with guys who are trouble on skates. You see that a lot. Why?”

“Something in the water,” said Coop.

“Winters are too long,” said D.B.

“The young guys have this special aftershave they wear,” said Coop.

“They don’t want to be alone, the girls,” said Whizzer.

“If that’s what it was,” said Coop, “it worked for What’s-her-name.”

“It worked too well,” said D.B.

“Lillian,” said Whizzer.

“Well,” said D.B.,“whatever it is she wanted, I don’t see why she thought she’d find it here. Thinks she’s so smart.
You people.
Cat named Annabelle. What kind of name’s that for a cat? What’s she doing around here in the first place?”

“She likes it here,” said Whizzer.

“Just like Con,” said Coop.

“But not so much,” said Whizzer.

“No,” said Coop.“Nobody likes it around here as much as Con. Ain’t that right?”

“Nobody,” said Conrad.

“Well,” said Whizzer. “I don’t know whether she’s dumb or whether she’s smart or whether she likes it here or she don’t, but either way, here she is. And I’ll tell you something else: It looks to me as though Blackway might have picked on the wrong girl this time.”

7

THE DIAMOND JOB

Fitzgerald’s job was on Diamond Mountain. His crew had been up there for three months. They had cleared out half an acre for the landing and built a lane into it for the trucks. Every day another truck, another two or three trucks, came out of the woods loaded as high as a house with fresh-cut logs. You would think there couldn’t be a tree left standing on the mountain — not a tree in the town, in the state. And yet the woods were everywhere, untouched, unchanged, as though the abstracted logs, and the workings that produced them, were a magician’s illusion.

Lillian, Lester, and Nate found the truck access to the landing, and Nate started to turn off the road.

“Back it in,” said Lester.

Nate put the truck in reverse and backed into the log lane until they could see the landing.

“That’s good,” said Lester. Nate stopped the truck, stopped the engine. The three of them sat, with Lester turned around on the seat so he could see out the rear window.

“Is he there?” Lillian asked Lester.

“Don’t see him,” said Lester.

“Are you going in?” she asked.

“In a minute,” said Lester.

He was watching the landing. There was a man there. He had seen them. He pointed to their truck. A second man joined him, then a third.

“How many of them are there?” Lillian asked.

“More than that,” said Lester. To Nate he said, “Do you want to go ahead?”

“Yo,” said Nate. He opened his door and left the truck. He began walking in toward the landing.

The landing was like a muddy amphitheater with the woods standing close all around. Its scarred, ruined earth was cut with deep ruts and tracks. Fitzgerald ran a neat job, though. There was a big pile of new gravel to one side of the landing for use in filling the ruts and keeping up the lane for the trucks. Around the woods edge, tops, waste logs, butt ends, and other slash had been bulldozed into piles the height of a tall man. Some of the oak butts were as big as bathtubs. There was nothing to do with them but get them out of the way. A hundred years from now they would still be lying right there.

Lester and Lillian looked out the rear window of the truck as Nate walked toward the landing. Four men now waited for him.

“None of them is Blackway,” said Lillian.

“No,” said Lester.

“What happens now?”

“Like Fitz said, maybe they know where Blackway is,” said Lester.

“He just asks them?”

“It looks that way.”

Nate had about reached the landing. Just within the woods he came upon a dog lying beside the lane in the shadows. It was a big one, one of those heavy, broad-shouldered breeds with a head the size of a small barrel and a great, dripping maw like a sea cave. It was on a chain fixed to a tree. The dog didn’t get to its feet as Nate approached, but it watched him every second, and it let a low growl rise in its throat as Nate passed before it. Nate stared at the dog, but he didn’t try to avoid it, and he didn’t pause. He left it behind him and walked out into the landing.

The four loggers had strung themselves in a loose line in the middle of the landing to meet Nate. Two of them had axes on their shoulders, and a third carried one of the heavy poles, shod with an iron point and a hanging iron jaw or hook, that you use to move logs.

“Do you know them?” Lillian asked Lester.

“No,” said Lester.

“Does he? Does Nate?”

Lester didn’t take his eyes off the group at the landing.

“No,” he said.

“What’s going to happen?” Lillian asked him.

“Nothing.”

“There’s going to be a fight, isn’t there?”

Lester glanced at her.

“Do you want a fight?” he asked her.

“No,” said Lillian. “Not now. Four of them’s too many.”

“Kid reckons too many’s about right,” said Lester.

Nate walked into the landing. There were five loggers now. Blackway wasn’t one of them. They made a half circle before Nate. The loggers were short, heavy men in dirty coveralls full of grease, sweat, and sawdust. They smelled of pine pitch and gasoline. Every one of them was chewing tobacco. Their jaw muscles worked slowly, in unison. None of them spoke. One of them, who stood in the middle of the group, with two others to each side of him, spat tobacco juice into the mud at his feet.

“Help you?” he asked Nate.

“Looking for Blackway,” Nate said.

“Who’s looking for him?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“We need to see him.”

“We?”

“People with me,” Nate said. “We need to talk to Blackway.”

“I don’t give a shit what you need,” said the logger.

Nate looked from one of the five to the other, up and down their line. He grinned at them.

“Yo,” said Nate.

He moved a little to his left, toward the nearer of the five loggers, who was also the smallest. He could roll them up from that side, if he had to — or he could try. But the five now moved themselves, coming together in a tighter group in front of Nate.

“That’s right,” said Lester, watching them from the truck. “Close it up, bunch it up. That’s good.” He opened his door and got out of the truck. He took his long parcel from behind the seat, but he didn’t unwrap it. “Start it up,” he said to Lillian. Lillian slid over behind the wheel and started the engine.

She watched Lester walk down the lane toward the landing. He limped, she saw, hitching his right leg stiffly. How old was he, really? Was he seventy? Was he eighty? Men like Lester, they do hard work outdoors all their lives, and the years, the weather break them down as though they were an old barn or an old truck: By the time they’re middle-aged they’re cripples. Lillian knew those men. Her own father might have used a rig like the one Whizzer had back at the mill. Maybe he had one by now. Lillian didn’t know. She wasn’t in touch with her family. She wasn’t like them. They weren’t like her. She had left them behind her when she had gone with Kevin.