Heads You Lose - Lisa Lutz [40]
“Maybe that’s the problem—she doesn’t have any business to mind.”
“I’d just hate to see a nice girl like that lose her head,” said Tate.
“Take it easy,” said Sook. “I pointed her in a certain direction. You shoulda seen her eyes light up. It should keep her busy, but she won’t get anywhere with it. Good girl, but not quite as smart as she thinks.”
“What about the brother?”
“Grows great Indica,” said Sook. “Seems like the type to know when to walk away. But I’m keeping an eye on him.”
Sook’s ears perked up and he gestured silently to Tate. A doe nosed out into a small clearing in the distance. Tate raised his bow, then lowered it—deer season had just ended.
The doe turned its face to the two hunters as Sook’s arrow split its forehead.18
Paul woke from a deep sleep. Across the room, his cell phone was playing “American Woman” from inside his pants.
On his way to the phone, Paul caught a glimpse of his forehead in the mirror. The welt had gone a weird subfusc19 purple.
“Terry,” Paul said flatly.
“Hey, my man. You okay?” Terry said.
“I’m alive. Marv knocked me out.”
“I . . . yeah, I know.”
“You know? I thought you took off.”
“I found a vantage spot maybe fifty yards out. Jesus H., that sound was sickening. Like a baseball bat on a soft coconut. Look, brother, I hope you understand I couldn’t be seen up there. I’m sorry I had to leave you there.”
“Whatever. No more favors, Terry.”
“Not a problem, amigo. Hey, you’re not going to believe this,” Terry said. He couldn’t disguise his glee.
“Try me,” said Paul wearily.
“I got all the info I needed. I waited in the woods till all the lights were out and Marv drove you to wherever. In and out in five minutes. So we’re golden. Mission goddamn accomplished. All thanks to you.”
“So where the hell were you all night?”
“Took me most of the night to hoof it to the road and catch a ride. My feet are swoll up like brined hams. When I got your message, I knew you were okay, so I let you sleep it off.”
“How thoughtful,” said Paul. “I think you owe me this much: What’s going on with you and the Babalatos? Why are you fucking with them?”
“Like I said, we’re closing in on a business deal. I just needed a little more information from their office.”
“There’s more, obviously.”
“Okay, here’s what I can tell you. Couple weeks ago Marv wanted to discuss the possibility of establishing some plants out at their place—they got a couple acres behind We Care, north of where we were last night. I went up there with him to check it out. A couple days later I went back to check out an old spring to see if it was still usable, which would make things a whole lot easier for Darryl when it came time to get the place irrigated.”
“Cut to the chase,” Paul said.
“I found a bag of teeth,” said Terry.
“What?”
“I found a Ziploc sandwich bag full of human teeth.”
When Lacey woke, it was late morning and Paul was gone. She’d slept off most of her night at the Timberline, but what remained in her brain was asperous.20 When a long shower failed to smooth things out, she found herself rooting around in the closet for her old bong, an eighteen-inch purple monster from the Hart days. The Purple People Eater, he’d called it. She filled it and took a massive hit. Maybe she was feeling nostalgic. Or maybe she just wanted to get back outside of herself. For all of Lacey’s derision of pot smokers and unease about the family business, she didn’t hesitate to partake when she felt the need.
But as soon as she felt the hit, her thoughts turned back to her list. She knew what she’d be doing today. She called first to see if it was okay. Marybeth Monroe answered on the first ring, with a somnolent statement of fact: “This is Marybeth.” She was surprised to hear from Lacey but said it’d be lovely to see her.
The Monroes’ house was a half-hour out of town, up the side of the mountain. Lacey drove the winding road through big, beautiful lots that had sat empty for years. No one seemed to be sure why, or even who owned them. That was one mystery she could let slide.
Eventually she emerged