The Cold Kiss (12 page)

25

“Were you the one who shot him?”

“No,” I said. “All we did was give him a ride.”

“Then who did it?”

“No idea.”

Zack leaned back on the couch and stretched his arms out over the cushions. He asked me to go over everything again, so I did. I told him about the diner and the bathroom and the ride through the storm. I told him about seeing the motel then finding Syl dead in the car.

“But he wasn’t dead,” Zack said.

“Obviously not.”

Zack stared at me. “Go on.”

I told him everything I could remember, and I tried to stick to the truth. Except when it came to the money.

That, I lied about.

“Two hundred thousand dollars?” Zack opened his eyes wide and exhaled sharp. “That’s a lot of cash.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

“Where’s it now?”

“We’ve got it.”

Zack got up and grabbed the bottle off the kitchen counter. He refilled my glass then his. “You really thought he was dead?”

“I checked his pulse and couldn’t find one.”

Zack took a drink then sat back on the couch. “So, you figured you could ditch the body out in the field, then when the roads were clear you’d disappear with the money and no one would know any different?”

“Pretty much.”

“But then the guy pops back up like a bad penny.”

I wanted to ask if he was the one who dragged him out of the ravine, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Instead, I said, “It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“I bet it wasn’t.” He swirled his drink in the glass. “Two hundred thousand is a good start for a new family.”

“It sure is.”

“So, now what?”

I thought about it for a second then said, “I don’t know. I guess it depends on him.”

“If he lives or not.”

“That’s right.”

“What if he dies?”

“Then we stick to the plan,” I said. “If he doesn’t die, then I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“You two are in a bad spot.”

I agreed, then said, “What would you do?”

“For two hundred grand I’d do a hell of a lot.” Zack leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “You know he’s probably not going to die. He should, but he’s a tough son of a bitch.”

“You’re right about that.”

“We can speed things along.”

I looked at him, didn’t speak.

“I’m watching him overnight. I can make sure he doesn’t make it until morning.”

“Kill him?”

Zack shrugged. “I’ll use a pillow. No one will know. It’ll look like he died in his sleep. No one will think anything of it. Simple.”

“Why would you do that?”

Zack smiled. “Money.”

I hesitated. “How much?”

Zack sat up and finished his drink in two large swallows. “What if I wanted it all?”

“Then you and I would have a problem.”

Zack smiled. “Yeah, I suppose we would.”

“Try again.”

He sat back and looked past me at nothing, then said, “A hundred thousand seems fair. Even split. Half for me, half for you two.”

“That’s still a lot.”

“It’ll solve your problem.”

“And fund the war?”

Zack nodded. “And fund the war.”

I thought about it for a second. “I’d have to talk to Sara.”

“Whatever you have to do,” Zack said. “You can come back with the money when you decide.” He motioned to the bottle. “You want another drink for the road?”

I told him I didn’t.

Zack shrugged then poured himself one.

I got up and grabbed my coat. “I’ll come back and give you an answer.”

Zack followed me to the door.

I opened it and stepped out into the snow.

“It’s all in how you sell it,” Zack said. “If your girl doesn’t like the idea, tell her you don’t have a choice. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“We always have a choice,” I said.

Zack smiled and closed the door.

I took a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it then stepped down into the parking lot. The sky was turning dark, and a wall of bruise-colored clouds hung just above the horizon. Any hope I’d had about the storm missing us disappeared.

It was coming.

I put the cigarette to my lips and inhaled, deep. I could still taste the whiskey in the back of my throat, and I turned and spit into the snow.

It wouldn’t go away.

When I got to our room, I stayed outside and leaned against the building and finished my cigarette.

I thought about Vincent.

It’d been a long time since I’d talked about him to anyone, and I didn’t like it. Whenever I did, the memories came flooding back and they wouldn’t go away.

I didn’t need that now.

I looked down at my feet and felt a sharp flash of pain in the middle of my head. I closed my eyes and tried to push it away. I didn’t want to think of anything but what I needed to do for Sara and the baby.

I told myself that when all this was over I’d sit and think about Vincent. I’d make sure I remembered everything I could about him. The sound of his voice, the way he laughed, the look on his face when he was happy.

I’d bring it all back.

But not now.

Not yet.

Right now, I had to stay focused.

When I opened my eyes again, everything was fine.

When I got back to the room, Sara was sitting up in bed folding clothes into one of her suitcases. When she saw me, she almost smiled.

“You’re out of the bathroom,” I said.

“Since we’re not leaving, I figured I could pack these a little better.”

I sat next to her. “Can we talk?”

She didn’t look up.

“I can’t keep saying I’m sorry.”

She ignored me, said, “How’d it go?”

I didn’t know what to say.

It would’ve been easy to tell her that Zack agreed to keep quiet for a price. Then, when Syl died overnight, she wouldn’t know the difference. It would’ve been easier, but I wasn’t going to do it. I didn’t want to lie anymore.

So I told her the truth.

She didn’t say anything, just cried for a long time.

I tried to tell her it was the only option and that we had to see the plan through to the end.

“This was never the plan.”

“I know,” I said. “But it’s too late to go back.”

She looked at me but didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. It really was too late to go back. Our only chance was to pay Zack and hope for the best.

We got up and I pulled the mattress off the bed. I opened Syl’s suitcase and counted out the cash, then looked around for something to put it in. While I was looking, I noticed the Bible sitting out on the nightstand. I figured Sara must’ve taken it out of the drawer. I started to ask her about it, then changed my mind. It was her business.

I took one of the pillows off the bed and stripped the case, then I dropped the money inside.

“What if he finds out?”

“Finds out about what?”

“About the money,” Sara said. “What if he finds out how much is really here?”

“He’s not going to find out,” I said. “We’re the only ones who know, and we’re not going to tell him.”

“I don’t like this, Nate.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Neither do I.”

26

I knocked on Zack’s door and heard him shuffling inside. I waited, then knocked again.

“Who is it?”

I told him.

The door opened less than an inch. He looked out at me, then disappeared. A moment later the door swung open.

“What are you doing here?”

I held up the pillowcase.

He looked at it then at me. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

He moved out of the doorway and I went inside.

The smell, chemical clean and poison sweet, made my eyes water. I was about to say something, then I saw the carbon-stained glass pipe on the nightstand by the bed, and I knew for sure what was going on.

“I thought you said—”

I stopped myself.

Zack had lied to me, but it didn’t matter. As long as he did his part tonight, I didn’t care what else he did. There was no point in creating more tension.

Zack was staring at the pillowcase. His eyes were dilated solid black and there were thin beaded lines of sweat on his skin.

“You okay?” I asked. “Are you still up for this?”

“Let me see the money,” Zack said. “Show me.”

I handed him the pillowcase. He sat on the bed and didn’t say anything for a while, then he reached in and took out one of the wrapped bundles of cash and fanned his thumb over the edge of the bills.

“Damn, you weren’t lying.”

“Did you think I was?”

Zack shook his head. “No, I had faith in you, Nate.”

He turned the bag over and dumped the money out on the bed then laughed, quiet.

“I wouldn’t mind another drink,” I said. “Help yourself.”

I got up and walked over to the utility kitchen and found the glass I’d used earlier. I rinsed it out at the sink then looked around for the bottle.

“I don’t see it.”

“Cabinet.”

I opened the cabinet then grabbed the bottle and filled my glass halfway. It was more than I needed, but it’d been a tiring twenty-four hours.

I came back and sat on the chair by the table and watched Zack pick up each bundle and run his fingers over the bills. He was smiling. His teeth looked like charcoal candy corn.

“Tonight, right?”

Zack looked up. “What about it.”

“Syl,” I said. “Tonight.”

At first, it didn’t seem to register, then his eyes cleared and he said, “Our snowman, right.” He turned back to the bills. “I didn’t know that was his name.”

I was pretty sure I’d told him Syl’s name when I’d gone over what’d happened, but maybe I was wrong.

I lifted the glass and took a drink, then said, “Tell me something?”

“What’s that?”

“Were you the one who pulled him out of the ravine?” Zack looked up at me. A second later he smiled then said, “Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t pull him out of the ravine, but I did drag him out of the field.” Zack looked back at the money and started stacking the bills. “I waited until the storm broke then wandered out to see what you were up to. I found him about a hundred yards in. It looked like he’d gone most of the way himself before he dropped.”

“Why leave him? Why not take him inside?”

“Then what?” Zack shook his head. “I probably should’ve left him where I found him, but I didn’t, and it wasn’t until I got almost all the way back that I started having second thoughts.” He looked at me. “But, what’s done is done. Now we move on.”

He was right.

I didn’t like it, but he was right.

I took another drink then said, “How are you going to do it?”

Zack opened the pillowcase and started putting the money back inside.

“Zack?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m thinking.”

I let him think, then when he had the money put away I said, “We should figure this out.”

“I haven’t decided.”

“I think you should.”

He ignored me. “Something not obvious by looking at him. At least not right away.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, Nate, but God will show me what path to take.”

“What about the pillow? Isn’t that what you said?”

He looked at me and smiled. “You don’t need to worry. When you wake up in the morning, it’ll be over.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am right,” Zack said. “It’s as good as done.”

Sara and I spent the rest of the afternoon in our room. We packed all the bags and I set them next to the door. Then we waited.

I spent most of the time at the window, staring out at the parking lot and the fields in the distance. The snow was falling again, but not like the night before. This time it came slow, delicate, like an easy dream.

Any other time and it would’ve been beautiful.

“What are you looking for?” Sara asked.

There was a dead fly lying on its back in the windowsill. I stared at it for a moment then let the curtain close.

“Nate?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “The plows, I guess.”

“You’ll hear them when they come.”

“I want to be prepared.”

Sara didn’t say anything else.

I sat at the table and time passed.

“Do you think Zack’s really going to do it?”

I told her he was.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because of the way he looked when he saw that money,” I said. “He’s not going to turn it over to the police.”

“What if he doesn’t follow through? Then what?”

“He’ll follow through.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“You’re borrowing trouble.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re thinking of all the bad things that can happen and you’re focusing on them. It’s not helping.”

Sara was silent. She didn’t move.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, hoping for something, but she just stared at me. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I looked at her and said, “What?”

There were tears on her cheeks.

I moved to the bed and held her until she stopped shaking, then I said, “We’re going to be fine.”

“None of this is turning out how I thought it would.”

“It can still work,” I said.

Sara nodded.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

I told her I didn’t believe her.

“You’ll just get mad.”

“It depends on what you say.”

“The money,” she said. “I don’t want it anymore.”

“What?”

“Things are different now,” she said. “Before we thought he was sick and that he just died. Somehow that seemed okay. Now, with Zack involved, we’re going to be murderers.”

I started to deny it, but for some reason, hearing her say it like that made it real. Even though we weren’t going to be the ones who actually killed him, we were going to be just as guilty.

“You want to back out.”

“It’s not too late.”

“Yes, it is.”

“We can give the suitcase to Zack, or dump it somewhere for someone else to find.”

“Sara—”

“It doesn’t matter what we do with it,” she said. “Once it’s gone, we can pretend none of this ever happened. We can go back to our old life.”

“No, we can’t,” I said. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing there to go back to.”

Sara stared at me, silent.

“What do you think I’m going to be able to do for us, or for the baby?” I ran my hand over the scar on the side of my head. “I can’t get a decent job with my record. We’ll never have money.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” I paused. “What kind of father do you think I’m going to be?”

“You’ll be a great father.”

“I wasn’t to Vincent,” I said. “Look at the job I did with him.”

“You weren’t his father.”

“I was the closest thing he had to one.”

“Nate, don’t do this, please—”

“We can use this money to start off right. It might be my only chance to do something good for this kid.” I looked away. “Without it, there’s nothing.”

“There’s us.”

“Not enough.”

She watched me for a long time without saying anything, then she moved close and kissed me, soft and slow. “Do you love me?”

I told her I did.

“Then we’ll be fine.”

We stayed like that for a while, then she added, “And you’re going to be a great father.”

It was what she was supposed to say, and even though I didn’t agree, I didn’t argue. She loved me too much to see it any other way, and I knew enough not to try and convince her otherwise.

She’d figure it out eventually.

When it came to love, everyone always did.