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water sounded worse than it really was. My arm was around Jessica, my other
hand gripped a wide umbrella, balancing it overhead. Each step brought a
little flood out from under the edge of my shoes into the grass. They d need a
shine.
The casket gleamed beneath a blanket of pink roses, and the priest swung an
incense lantern back and forth, chanting in Latin. Across the grave was the
family. James s wife, Eva, standing with the other kids. All grown. All living
out their lives in different corners of the country, places like Dallas, Palm
Beach, San Diego. There was an empty, gaping space on Eva s right. Where Scott
would have been.
Bucky stood just behind the family. His face gray and his mouth a straight
line, like it was drawn onto his face with a charcoal pencil. The bags under
his red-rimmed eyes hung low, but those dark irises stayed pointed at me the
whole time. Finally I looked right at him and nodded. His face stayed set in
stone.
When the priest was finished, the family began tossing little scoops of dirt
from a silver pail onto the casket. My knees were locked up, but Jessica
tugged at me until I was turned around and walking away from the grave,
dodging headstones and the deeper puddles in the grass.
On the hilltop overlooking where we d parked was a stone crypt that read
Barrows. As we rounded the corner, we could see a dark blue Crown Vic. A
thin ribbon of smoke curled up from the exhaust pipe. Paper cups of coffee sat
on the dash, steaming up the windshield. Through the rain-speckled window, I
saw the gray-haired witch pop something into her mouth and start licking her
fingers. The redhead took a sip from her coffee cup.
Jessica grabbed my arm and pulled me up the steps and behind one of the
Grecian columns supporting the pediment of the crypt. She took the umbrella
from me and retracted it, then clung tight and pushed me up against the
column.
What the hell? I said, under my breath.
Shh, she told me.
After a minute, Ben came out from under a cluster of pine trees standing over
some old graves. His blond hair was dark and matted from the rain and his head
darted around before he jogged the last ten steps to the witches car and
slipped into the back. The taillights glowed for a moment and then the car
crawled off down the gravel drive.
Shit, I said.
Uh-huh, Jessica said, nodding her head as if this was exactly what she
suspected. A sneak.
I just looked at her.
She looked at me, frowning, and said, I never told you what he did after his
wife left.
What are you talking about? I said, my chest feeling suddenly tight.
He s not such a friend, she said. I tried to forget it. I knew he was
depressed about her leaving, and the kids.
What s that got to do with you?
Come on, she said, opening the umbrella and starting off down the steps.
What? I asked, catching up, taking the umbrella from her, but keeping it
over her head as we walked.
You were in New York, she said, her hands deep in her coat pockets,
shoulders hunched. He showed up at the house and said he needed to talk. He
was crying. I felt bad for him and he asked me to have a drink at the
Sherwood. On the way, he pulled down into Sandy Beach and turned the car off.
You didn t tell me? I said, the pressure now pushing up through my throat
and out my ears.
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He tried to touch me, she said, stopping and looking up at me. He said he
used to think about me. I got out to walk home and he grabbed me and put his
hand . . . up under my dress.
Where the hell was I?
You had a dinner with Latham & Watkins. Scott Gordon. I knew you were working
on the Toronto deal and I didn t want to upset you.
I ll fucking kill him, I said.
See? That s why I didn t tell you, she said, hugging me to her, resting her
head against my chest.
Fuck him, I said, squeezing her and thrusting my nose into the soft bed of
her hair. He tried to rape you?
This is worse, she said. This is all of us he s doing it to.
James s little puppet, I said. I could do the same goddamn thing to the
puppet. You know that?
I know, she said, rubbing her forehead against my tie. And you might have
to. But if we do, I ll tell you when. We have to do it right.
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That s when I knew she really meant it, I say.
You didn t realize before?
Look, we were like brothers going through school, I say. Yeah, we drifted a
little. Our wives never got along. You get busy with kids and things.
But he was a threat, the shrink says.
I shrug and say, You don t go after a guy s wife. But as much as anything I
think that after you do something like what I did to James, you realize you
don t really have anything to lose. What s it matter, right? If you get one
life sentence or a thousand?
Every time you committed a crime you were taking another chance, he says,
making it more likely you d be caught. You had to know that.
Did I?
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