The Devil's Wire (19 page)

47

Jennifer paces. She needs to keep moving or she might fall apart. She picks up the cordless phone and takes it into the garage, keeping the lights turned off. She presses the glowing digits.

"We've got a problem," she whispers. "We have to move him."

"What do you mean move him?" demands Lenise.

"They're doing a search on Monday. Oh God, they're going to find him."

Silence.

"Lenise – are you there?"

"This isn't really my problem anymore is it, Jenny?" Lenise replies coolly.

"What do you mean this isn't your problem?"

"I'm getting on with life and trying to put the incident behind me."

"What are you talking about? I'm in this mess because of you."

"If that bastard was still alive you would probably be dead by now, Jenny. You could show a little more gratitude."

"Gratitude? Are you crazy?"

"Now you're insulting me."

Jennifer pauses, tries to collect herself. "You can't be serious," she says. "You have to help me."

"And you haven't exactly been neighborly as of late."

Rain tap-dances across the roof.

"I was trying to get on with things, like you. Put it behind me," says Jennifer.

"It's not right to use people."

"I didn't use you."

"Then throw them away like they are nothing."

"God, Lenise, I'm sorry," Jennifer starts to cry. "I can't go to prison. What will happen to McKenzie?"

"Calm down. You're not doing yourself any favors by losing your rag."

"Please, Lenise. I've got no one else to turn to."

The pause stretches on endlessly. The rain, wild and uncontained now, launches itself against the tin like gravel.

Then, finally, "Piss off and leave me alone."

48

Jennifer glances at McKenzie who's shifting barley and basil risotto around on her plate, eyes fixed in a thousand yard stare, and Jennifer knows she's thinking about Hank and whether he's out there, dead, and if he is, believing it's somehow her fault. Jennifer nearly tells McKenzie everything but doesn't have the guts.

When McKenzie pushes her plate away and says she going to bed early it's almost a relief.

Jennifer rinses the plates and loads the dishwasher and wipes the bench and tells herself these could be the very last domestic duties she'll ever perform. She lifts her head and looks out the kitchen window and sees Lenise standing on her own front steps. There's a sudden fierce pinpoint of red as Lenise brings the cigarette to her lips then an arc of tiny sparks when she flicks it away. Jennifer expects Lenise to go back inside, but she doesn't, she just stands there and stares at the house.

In the morning she is waiting by Jennifer's car.

"You don't deserve it, but I'll help."

*

They decide to wait until the next night, hoping the rain would clear, and it does, although dark clouds linger, threatening to deliver more at a moment's notice. Waiting also gives Jennifer time to collect necessary supplies. Earlier in the day she'd driven to Franklin and found a Lowes and purchased a tarpaulin, gloves, masks, rope, bolt cutters, a large container with a lid and wheels, and two flashlights.

At Lenise's suggestion, Jennifer wore a cap to hide her face from the cameras. She also donned a bulky grey hoodie to make herself look bigger, and was sure to keep her head lowered at the checkout. After paying in cash, Jennifer went to McDonalds and flushed the receipt down the toilet. Tonight, with McKenzie asleep, Jennifer waits in the garage. She has the awful feeling Lenise isn't going to show. But a little after 11pm, there's a tap on the roller door.

"You're late," says Jennifer.

"Well, I'm here now, so let's get on with it."

They drive in silence. Lenise's stony face stares out the window, and Jennifer thinks of the night they first met when Lenise cradled Baby in her arms in the back seat. Jennifer has the urge to thank her, because even though this situation was in large part Lenise's fault, she could have forced Jennifer to deal with this mess on her own.

It's not long before they reach the Pine Ridge entrance and Jennifer takes the road to the left. Bitumen gives way to shingle, and shadows close in around them. They follow the same route as before, keeping a lookout for landmarks. But with the onset of winter everything's changed. Trees are bare of leaves and even the land looks different in places.

"It's around here somewhere," says Jennifer, hunched over the steering wheel.

"Watch it."

Up ahead a group of college kids mill round a bonfire, bottles in hand. Music thumps and some are dancing. There's a peal of laughter when a guy lobs a can of Axe into the fire making it explode.

"Little shits," says Lenise.

"They're blocking the path in."

"Well, I can see that, can't I?" snaps Lenise. "We'll have to try again tomorrow."

"The search is tomorrow."

"I thought you said it was Tuesday," says Lenise.

"I told you Monday."

"You said Tuesday."

"Okay, Lenise, you're right, like you're always right," says Jennifer. "But that doesn't change the fact we still need to do this tonight."

Jennifer returns to the entrance and heads back to Pine Ridge Road and takes the road skirting the forest. Spots of rain spatter the windscreen.

"Marvelous," says Lenise.

"It's just rain."

Jennifer drives slow, hugging the curb, scanning for a possible way in.

"See I told you – nothing," says Lenise.

"There!"

Sure enough in front of them is another track, albeit narrow and overgrown.

"You'll never be able to do it."

"We'll see."

Jennifer leaves the road and drives overland toward the opening. It's tight but she does it. The path is rough going and they are tossed about in their seats and Lenise tells her to slow down, placing a hand on the dashboard. Jennifer eases off the accelerator but drives on, into deeper, thicker forest.

"Watch out!"

Jennifer slams on the brakes and they catapult against their seatbelts.

"What the hell is that?"

Something is blocking their path. A septic tank. Broken toilets. Other construction debris.

"Someone doesn't want to pay dumping fees."

Jennifer cuts the engine.

"We can't go any further," she says.

"What now?" says Lenise.

"We walk."

"We'll get lost. Do you even know where we are?"

Jennifer gets out of the car and faces the forest wall. "I think so."

"Don't be a fool. We could be anywhere."

"You'll just have to trust me," says Jennifer.

She retrieves the container from the trunk, hands Lenise the spades and clicks on a flashlight. "Let's go."

They find a gap between a stand of Spanish firs and move forward. Torchlight nods against the vegetation and Jennifer pulls the container behind her, its tiny rubber wheels lurching over roots and rocks. Wind roars like an ocean through the treetops, but down here, close to the forest floor, even the rain can't get through.

They walk for a good twenty minutes before emerging to face a clearing, with more woods on the other side. The wind is instant and vicious and so is the driving rain. It pricks Jennifer's bare arms and she thinks how stupid it was not to bring a coat. She stands on a fallen log and looks out over the land.

"If we can just find the river."

Lenise shouts over the wind. "We're getting lost!"

"I know we're close."

"You don't know that at all!"

Jennifer ignores her and begins the trek to the other side.

"You're going in the wrong direction!" Lenise calls out.

But Jennifer heads across the exposed clearing and Lenise follows. A bitter wind blasts from every direction, robbing them of breath. They avert their faces but there's nowhere to hide and all they can do is keep going and carry up the incline to the other side.

Finally, they reach the embankment and Jennifer puts the container on the ground and stops to catch her breath. Lenise stops too, tries to unwrap the wet, tangled hair from around her neck.

Jennifer picks up the container. "Let's keep moving."

"I need to rest."

"Rest all you want later."

Twenty more minutes and they reach a wire fence.

"It's the border to the orchard," says Jennifer.

Lenise lifts her arm. "Over there."

They cut across the paddock. The sound of rushing water.

"We must be close."

Jennifer does a 360 then sees it. The Arizona cypress. They cross the grass and look down at the grave.

"Something's been at it," says Lenise.

The ground has most definitely been disturbed. A deep gash cuts across the grave.

"What if he's not all there?" says Jennifer.

"There's only one way to find out."

Lenise props the torch in a nook of the pear tree, angling the light directly onto the spot. They slice into the boggy soil and stony mud drips from their spades like excrement, but it's better than the frozen ground Jennifer had been expecting. They dig deeper and deeper into the slop, rain battering the leaves above their heads, the taste of lime and death on their lips. Twenty minutes in, Lenise holds up her hand.

"Careful," she says, staring into the hole.

Jennifer looks over Lenise's shoulder.

"Oh Jesus."

A creamy eye stares back at them.

Throwing the spade to one side, Lenise ties a rag around her face, gives one to Jennifer, and they bend down to finish the job with their hands. They don't get very far because the smell is unbearable. Jennifer can't stand it and stops.

Lenise grips her shoulder. "Think about something else," her voice muffled by the rag. "Think about McKenzie."

Jennifer nods and they kneel side by side and scoop out the mud, gingerly excavating what they had buried all those weeks before. When they are done, Lenise directs the torchlight into the hole.

The lime has done its job well. The process of defleshing had already begun. Chunks of skin had dissolved. Bone too. The fingers on his left hand were gone entirely. The ribcage was empty.

"God," says Jennifer.

"The son of a bitch deserved it. Let's not forget that," says Lenise.

Lenise drags the container close to the rim, gets in the hole and straddles the corpse.

"We need to be careful," she says. "He might break apart."

Together they lift him into the container, folding his limbs in on themselves like a Cirque du Soleil contortionist. Then they fill the hole and leave.

*

Jennifer pulls to a stop outside the tall wire gates surrounding the abandoned building.

"What is this place?" says Lenise.

"An old fertilizer plant. It was decommissioned back in the 70s after an explosion."

To their left is a rundown three storey office block connected to a large factory in a severe state of disrepair. Windows have been smashed to hollow stars. Loosened roof iron flaps in the wind. Someone has spray painted over the Pergeson Corp sign to say Poisonous Crap instead.

Jennifer retrieves the bolt-cutters from the backseat and opens the chain-linked gates then drives down a dirt road until they reach the back of the plant. They leave the container in the car, shoulder open a door and go inside. The cavernous space is empty apart from pipe remnants scattered over the concrete floor and a large stainless steel silo lying on its side. Nesting pigeons flutter in the rafters.

Jennifer opens a side door and finds a covered walkway overrun with vegetation. Enormous concrete pipes snake alongside and they follow them into the darkness.

"Where are we going exactly?" says Lenise.

"It's not far," says Jennifer

"I don't like this."

Jennifer glances at Lenise. The whites of her eyes glow brighter than snow.

"Relax, Lenise, we're the only ones here."

"We shouldn't have left him in the car. What if someone pulls up and finds him?" says Lenise.

But Jennifer continues on and Lenise does too.

"I read an old article once when the whole scandal blew up," says Jennifer. "They kept making the stuff and shipping it off to third world countries even though they knew it was toxic. There's an entire village in Laos which has birth defects worse than Chernobyl."

She falls silent and looks in the distance. The runoff pond. Stagnant and thick and deadly.

"What is that?' says Lenise.

"Our ticket out of this mess."

They walk closer. Jennifer looks for a way in and finds one. An entire section of the fence lies on its side as if it's been driven over. God only knew what else had been dumped here over the years.

They return for the car and, ten minutes later, lay the body out on the lid of the container and push it to the water's edge. They tip it sideways and the corpse rolls into the sludge, the thick oily substance seeping into the remains, pulling the body down into its plummy depths.

Jennifer and Lenise stand on the bank and watch the final shoulder blade slip under.

"That's that, then," says Lenise.

Jennifer casts a look at Lenise, who's gazing at the rippling water. It would be so easy. She would never see it coming and no one would ever know and it would solve another big problem.

"Jenny?"

"What?"

"We should go."

"Yeah."

"Even just standing here is probably bad for our health."

"Probably," says Jennifer.

Lenise stares at the pond. "You're going to leave now, aren't you, move to Florida."

Jennifer pauses and thinks about denying it. "Yes."

"Please don't."

"Lenise, I want you to know I appreciate your help. With everything. You've been a better friend than I ever deserved."

Lenise nods glumly.

If you say so," she says, turning away to head back to the car.