Top Suspense Page 13

  I had to walk down to Butch's because I didn't want Merle to catch me in a lie right off about the car, so I put a cap on Chance and smeared the sunscreen thick on us both. It was sweltering outside and I knew the bar must be half a mile from The Clapp. Jimmy had drove to Lake Wales to pick up some trailer parts, or so he said. I figured he was making a drug run. He was always gone most of the day, taking Spike with him, and came back high, so it was good timing for the setup.

  Merle walked into the bar right at noon. I saw him first. His mouth was hard and his eyes mean, but when he looked at me with Chance in a highchair, he couldn't hold back a grin. I felt a big one slide over my face too. He sure was pretty, with his square jaw clean-shaved and hard muscles bulging. It looked like the beer belly had tightened up some too. I had to get over all that.

  He stared at Chance and me like we were the Madonna and Child.

  "Hey, Merle."

  His face hardened, but I knew I still had power over him. He moved close and stuck out his finger so Chance would grab it.

  "What the fuck's the matter with you?"

  "Nothing. I'm better now. That last punch you threw me loosened up my brain. I thought I could really leave you, you know."

  He hung his head, and I figured that was as big a sorry as I was going to get, the motherfucker.

  He sat down in the booth next to me, and I gave him a kiss. He squeezed my thigh under the table hard enough to remind me that it was time to get down to business. I told him the story about Jimmy nursing off my tit and pointed out the eye, which was a rainbow of colors by then. I watched his neck get red. He considered himself a protector of women and children, even though he was just as likely to break my nose as look at me. He couldn't wait to go over there and rip Jimmy a new asshole.

  I waited to spring the drug money idea on him, since it involved murder. We ate some cheeseburgers and he drank some beers. Didn't take long to loosen him up.

  "You know, Merle, that asswipe deals drugs on the side—to high school kids. He's got a safe in his shed just full of money. I sure worry about Chance when he's a teen, with those kinds of guys around. He's got no morals whatsoever."

  Merle looked over at Chance and I could see he was thinking. His brain was hard and soft at the same time.

  "It would serve him right if somebody got a hold of that stash," I told him. "Jimmy's no asset to the world."

  "You got any brilliant ideas?"

  I shook my head. "Not sure. He keeps the key to the safe on a chain around his neck. I think he even wears it in the shower."

  "He don't trust nobody."

  We had another beer and then the weather report came on the TV at the bar. Beryl was strengthening and still moving in our direction. It was only a Category One so far, but all mobile homes were on mandatory evacuation by Sunday night.

  "Better start packing up, all you guys in the double-wides," the bartender hollered. "Beer cans are gonna roll!"

  There was excitement in the air, even though hurricane prep was a major pain in the ass. "Hmm," I said. "I wonder what asshole Jimmy does for a hurricane."

  Chance started to fuss. He had a big mess of wet crackers crumbled on his tray, but I knew what he wanted. "Let's go out in the truck and crank up the AC. I can tell you my idea while I feed Chance."

  It was a simple plan. We'd knock out Jimmy in his trailer and leave him for the hurricane. He was a dumb enough fuck that nobody would question his decision to stay. We'd whack him with a piece of wood so when the trailer got tossed around it would be a natural injury, like a shelf or a table got him. If that seemed unlikely to happen, we'd pull his body out on the ground after dark so it looked like he got hit by flying debris.

  "I heard that some guy died last year when he stepped outside for a smoke and a tree limb hit him. Probably happens all the time."

  "I bet his wife wouldn't let him smoke in the house," Merle said. "Sounds like something you'd make me do." He laughed. Then he stopped. "You're talking murder, Candy. You know that."

  "So, what? He's a scumbag. Without him, the world will be a better place. I bet you already killed somebody in your life for less reason."

  He didn't answer, so I figured it for a yes.

  I knew I was a pretty picture feeding Chance with my shirt unbuttoned and my tits loose and sweaty. I gave Merle a slow smile and put his hand part on Chance's cheek and part into my cleavage. "We need a fresh start and there's nothing like a pile of money to help us get along." I stretched my neck to give him a long kiss and tongued and nipped his throat until I figured the bargain was sealed. There were people in the world only a cunt-hair away from murder. You just had to know how to spot em. It was my job to get Merle and Jimmy together.

  "There shouldn't be any suspicions," I said. "I don't have any friends here, and it would make sense if I never came back after the hurricane."

  "What about the time of death?"

  "I don't think they'd know that close, if you knock him off late Sunday."

  "This is my job?"

  "You're the man, darlin. We'll turn the AC down low so he stays cold until the electricity cuts off—if it does."

  "We can't stay in there when the hurricane comes."

  "So, we put the money in a suitcase and head to the shelter. It's easy."

  We set the time for the deed at 9 pm, so it would be dark, and most everybody else would be gone, but we'd have plenty of time to get the money and get out before Mother Nature dealt us her blow. In my mind, it would be enough time for me to shoot Merle besides.

  Merle went off to a motel since he couldn't be seen at The Clapp. I walked home to sweat it out with Jimmy and set him up for Merle's arrival.

  "He's a maniac, I'm telling you. If you got a gun, you better get it ready so you can scare him off. I don't know how he found me, but my best friend called this morning. He might already be headed this way."

  "With a hurricane coming?"

  I shrugged. "He's a madman."

  "Maybe you oughta just leave. I'm not in any of this."

  "He's out for you too."

  "Christsakes, why? How could he know anything about me?"

  "I bet he got a P.I. That's all I can think."

  "Cock-sucking motherfucker."

  Sunday morning people were cranking down their awnings and clearing out. By mid-afternoon there was a solid river of traffic going north and about half that flow headed south. I guess it depended on where the friends and relatives lived. Since Beryl could change course, especially when she made landfall, neither direction was safe because you might be driving straight into her path. You run out of gas and the stations are shut down, you're pretty well fucked.

  I would have liked to got moving, though. I was nervous for Chance, knowing we had to stay late, but the shelter was only a few miles away in the high school and we were still only looking at a Cat One. I went ahead and put Chance's porta-crib and swing in the trunk and packed the clothes and some bedding for me.

  Jimmy said he had lots of hurricane prep to do at the park, checking the augers for the tie-downs, moving porch furniture and other junk. He was working on a cooler of beer at the same time, so I didn't have to worry that he'd be headed out early. Everything was going just right. I used dishwashing gloves when I got the bullets out of his .38, so only his prints would be on there. I waited to make supper late, cooked Jimmy a few hotdogs. I figured I'd put a couch pillow over the gun barrel the way they do on The Sopranos when I killed Merle, just in case there were still cops around. Under the sound of the wind whipping and rain drumming, the crack of the shot could be anything.

  It would be easy to make it look like Jimmy shot Merle and then let the hurricane take care of the rest of the evidence. I'd leave a small amount of money in the safe, and nobody would know anything was missing. Later, when the cops tracked down where Merle came from, they'd figure Jimmy plugged him in a fight over me. It wouldn't be no surprise to anybody, and I'd squeeze out a few tears when they told me.

  I had Chance asleep in
his stroller in the back bedroom, and it was eight-thirty when Jimmy stuffed the last half of his third hotdog into his mouth and pointed his beer bottle toward the road. "I think your friend decided to hunker down at home, just like I thought."

  "No friend of mine. Might be all the hurricane traffic slowed him down. You got that gun handy in case, don't you?"

  "Always got it handy, babe." He cocked his head toward an end table, and I knew the gun was still in the drawer where I'd found it and put it back that afternoon. He took his beer, rousted Spike off the couch, and punched on the remote. "I don't want to leave Spike and go to that disgusting shelter until I have to. Maybe you should leave with the kid now."

  "I'd rather wait for you," I said, but I was sure starting to worry about the storm. The flow of traffic outside had dwindled to almost nothing, so every time I saw headlights my heart started to pound. I wanted to get it done, but I didn't. I knew Jimmy was no match for Merle, especially if he was pointing an empty gun, but chance was always unpredictable. I smiled.

  The wind was loud through the trees, and I was almost gonna take Jimmy's suggestion. Let Merle take care of him and just get away. Finally, lights swung past the window. The sound of tires pulling off the road set me on the edge of my chair. I didn't need to fake being nervous. "That's him. That's Merle. I knew it."

  Jimmy sat up and motioned me to stay in my seat. The engine was shut off, and footsteps crunched on the drive. He'd parked behind my trailer, like I'd told him. I grabbed Spike and held him.

  The knock was soft, just like I'd said to do.

  Jimmy slid open the drawer and took out the gun. He walked to the door and opened it a crack.

  "You got something of mine in there. You know what I mean?"

  Jimmy pulled up the gun, ready to show it to Merle through the crack. "You get off my property while you still can."

  Merle ripped the door out of Jimmy's hand and threw himself into the room, the door banging closed behind him with the wind. Jimmy pulled the trigger, once, twice. His face drained and he flung the gun toward Merle's head. There was a flash of a two-by-four and Merle had him on the floor, out cold, his forehead bloody. I was sitting on Spike, who was barking his head off.

  "Whack him again," I yelled. "Make sure."

  Merle bent over and gave him a couple more hard ones in the same spot. The gun was on the floor next to me and I slid it under the sofa with my foot.

  Chance started to whimper in the bedroom. I shoved Spike into the bathroom and slammed the door. "Key's in his jeans' pocket. You get it, and I'll get Chance. Meet you in the shed."

  He picked up the bloody two-by-four. "I better put this in the truck so we can toss it."

  "Good idea," I said. I was thinking that I had to remember to bring the board back.

  He went outside, and I took the gun into the bedroom. I had to change Chance's diaper, put on the plastic gloves, and reload the bullets. When I brought Chance out to the living room, the body was laying there just the same, but Merle must've got the key off him and went to the shed. It wasn't a pretty sight in front of me, the dead body and ugly green shag carpet soaking up blood. I put Chance on the couch and hid the gun behind the pillow. Chance reached for the shiny gun, but I pulled him away in time. I didn't want to mix up any baby fingerprints with Jimmy's.

  The trailer wobbled and squeaked in its tie downs. Once Merle got back into the trailer there'd be no reason to poke around, just shoot and run. I was spooked by the sound of the wind and the bad reputation of the metal coffins.

  Merle was taking too long. I wasn't sure whether it was safer to carry Chance with me or leave him inside, but I stuck him on my hip and tore out of there. It was wild outside, garbage cans already rolling around, branches whipping by. I shielded Chance with my arm and ran to the shed. The door was closed and for a second I thought Merle had snatched the money and left me, but when I yanked it open, he was zipping the overnight bag.

  "You didn't take it all, did you?"

  "No, I left a pack of twenties and two ziplocks full of crack, so everything looks normal. No sense trucking that shit around anyway." He hefted the case, weighing it in his hand. "I don't know how much this is, but several of these packs are hundreds."

  "Give me a look."

  He unzipped the top and picked out a pack of hundreds, flipping the bills close to my face. There was only one dim light bulb in the shed, but I could see more packs of money in the bag.

  "You were right," Merle said. His eyes were big with excitement. "We're rich." He grabbed my hand as I reached toward the bag. "Why the gloves?"

  "I been doing some cleaning up."

  "Wiped my prints off the door?"

  I nodded. "Okay, let's put the key back around Jimmy's neck. It's getting crazy outside." I was too freaked to be happy. I still had to commit murder and escape the storm with my baby.

  I followed Merle back into the trailer and put Chance in the corner of the couch. Merle knelt down by Jimmy with the key, wiping it on his shirt, putting it back in Jimmy's pocket. I picked up the pillow and the gun behind it.

  Merle was shaking his head. "What if the hurricane doesn't break this sucker up? The cops'll know it's murder. Moving this asshole outside won't work either because the blood's in here."

  "I never thought of that," I said. I had the gun pointed at him from behind the pillow. "Jeez, what should we do?"

  I didn't wait for an answer, just squeezed the trigger. I hadn't done much shooting before, but being close, I hit him in the chest, and he fell backward, dropping the bag, oozing red down the front of his shirt. Chance was screaming bloody murder and Spike was barking like a maniac, but I stood over Merle and gave him one more to the head to make sure. Clumps of gray jellyfish stuff spattered onto the wall. It hit me then, what I'd done. Chance was still bawling hard, but I had to race into the bathroom past the dog to puke.

  I splashed my face and ran back to Chance just in time before he could fall off the couch into the mess of Merle and Jimmy. I grabbed him and hugged him tight. "Don't cry, sweetie," I told him. He was scared by all the noise, and maybe the scenery. I wished I could explain how it was all the best for him in the long run.

  Spike was sniffing around Jimmy, and I felt real bad about that. He was really a good dog, but there was nothing to do but shoo him out the door. He'd have to find a safe place to hide while Beryl passed over.

  I put the gun in Jimmy's hand and closed his fingers. If the trailer went, everything would be tossed around messing up the evidence. Even if it didn't, it would seem like Jimmy revived long enough to shoot Merle—the way it happens in the movies. There was only a few minutes between their times of death. I doubted I'd be a suspect, since I didn't have a motive to kill either of them—except that they were men. The cops wouldn't think of that one. Merle, on the other hand, was well known for his temper, and Jimmy was a drug dealer with a gun.

  Chance wailed, rain pounded the aluminum roof, and the trailer creaked and shuddered. There was a snap and crackle in the roar, like Rice Krispies, that I recognized as all the tiny dead branches popping off trees from the force of a gust. I'd seen and heard that before, in my last hurricane experience. Those heaps of rubble from last year must've been scattering too, all projectiles looking for a head to smash. The lights went out. I set Chance back on the couch and felt my way outside to the pickup for the bloody two-by-four.

  When I ran back inside to toss it on the floor, Chance was so quiet, I thought he'd fallen off the couch and knocked himself out. I started to panic, but I felt for him and there he was. I prayed he wasn't traumatized. I held him to my chest, grabbed the bag of cash, and dashed to the car.

  I held my breath as I drove, dodging branches and trash cans, all kinds of unidentified debris. Now, according to the radio, Beryl was up to a Cat Two, and the outer bands were already hitting the Big O. The berm was expected to hold, but there could be small breaks and minor flooding.

  I laughed when I saw the high school with lights still on. "We made it, ba
by love. You're my lucky Chance!" I parked in an area blocked from the wind by buildings and took a deep breath. God finally sent good fortune flowing my way. He helped those that helped themselves.

  There was nobody outside, and I couldn't resist a peek at the money. I hoisted the bag onto the seat. It was heavy. With all those hundreds, there should be enough to cover years of cheap living until Chance started school. One thing I knew was how to live cheap. I wouldn't skimp on Chance though. I'd buy him all the fancy educational toys. He would love the one where you touch an animal, like a bear, and he growls and says "bear."

  I laughed, just thinking about the fun we'd have, and unzipped the bag and pulled out a pack of bills. I flipped through them. A hundred on top—but the rest was ones! I reached back into the bag for more, only found two, and they were all singles. I dug down. Old newspaper and cans of beer from the floor of Merle's truck. My head boiled with rage and I thought the top might fly off. "Damn you, you cocksucker!" I screamed out loud to Merle.

  Chance started to cry and I had to shut up and swallow it down, but I never wanted to kill somebody so much in my life. It was frustrating, since fucking Merle was already dead.

  I dropped the packs of ones and turned the key. I had to go back. I pulled out from between the buildings and into the wind. Big chunks of wood and metal, were flying around now, and that was just the stuff I could see in the headlights. I tromped the gas and turned onto the road. Something slammed into the side window and flew off. The glass broke into tiny beads that splattered inside the car. Rain poured in. Chance screamed like I'd never heard him before. I looked close, but couldn't see any blood. It was pure terror. I let out an angry roar at the wind and pulled back between the buildings. I couldn't risk the drive. If something happened to Chance, all the money in the world would be worthless to me. I pulled back into the sheltered spot. I doubted I could return for the money after the storm. I'd be seen and become a suspect for sure.