Off Season - Jack Ketchum [22]
She swatted him and both girls laughed in relief.
Nick and Jim lugged the two cases of beer down the porch steps. “You guys planning a big party?” asked Marjie, leaning out the window.
“We thought that for a week in the country, this was pretty conservative,” said Jim, smiling. Jim, thought Marjie, was too damned gorgeous when he smiled.
“I didn’t know you were a drinker,” she said.
“Only around your sister,” he said.
“Throw us the keys, will you?” said Nick. “I want to get this stuff in the trunk.”
Dan reached over to the ignition and tossed the keys through the window to Nick. The two men opened the trunk and piled the beer between the spare tire and their bags. The nice thing about the old Dodge, Nick thought, was the trunk space. Jim put his hand on Nick’s shoulder and leaned in close to him. “Look here,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
He reached into a blue flight bag and took out a wooden box big enough to fill the bag almost entirely.
He opened the box. Inside was something covered by a cloth zippered bag. Even inside the bag Nick could make out the shape of a gun.
“Check this out,” said Jim.
“Jesus,” said Nick.
“I’m glad those guys didn’t give us any real trouble.
I’d hate to have had to use this.” He took it out of the box and pulled away the bag.
“Christ,” said Nick. “What are you doing with that thing?” It was bigger than any pistol he’d ever seen.
Jim handed it to him. Heavier, too.
“.44 Magnum,” said Jim. “I bought it here a few years ago, when I was doing stock in Portland. Actually, this is the only state it’s legal in. Just a little souvenir.”
“Some souvenir.”
“I took it to New York with me because, hell, you never know in New York. But I haven’t really had a chance to shoot the thing in years. I thought that if Carla’s house is as far away from everything as she says it is, we could do some target shooting. Maybe bag a quail or two.”
“With a pistol?”
“We could get lucky.”
Nick turned it in his hand. “Magnum, huh?”
“That’s right. Just like Dirty Harry. Makes a hell of an explosion. Look.” He dug around in the bottom of the flight bag and pulled out a box of cartridges and another, smaller plastic box.
“Earplugs,” he said. “You shoot this thing without earplugs and you’ll be deaf for a week. We can clean ‘er up at the house and I’ll show you how to shoot her.”
“Sounds good to me. Carla know you’ve got this with you?
“Hell, no. Just you. You think any of these women would go for the idea of me transporting illegal merchandise through five states? Even if it is legal here? I haven’t told anybody. I’ll break it to ‘em later, when it’s too late to care.”
“You could have told me, you know,” said Nick. “My car and all.”
“Would you have let me pack it?”
“Probably not.”
“Well then.” He smiled and shrugged and Nick smiled back. Jim wasn’t so bad, he thought. Nick never minded a good joke at his expense, so long as there was no trouble involved. He wondered if Jim felt the same. Because he intended to wait until just before they were ready to leave to break the news to him that the pistol stayed here. It was just as illegal one way as the other. There would probably be some yelling. Those earplugs might come in handy.
They heard Laura shouting for them to hurry it up. Nick closed the trunk and they moved around to the front of the car. “Just checking the spare,” said Jim. “Carla says the roads get pretty rough up here. Looks fine to me, though.” He glanced at Nick and smiled.
“What kind of beer d’you get?” asked Dan.
“Budweiser,” said Nick. “In the bottle.”
“Long neck?”
“Sure.”
“Good man!” said Dan. “Let’s go find Carla. I never tied one on in the country.”
5:45 P.M.
Carla had spent her day alone and, for the most part, indoors. She’d gone for a short walk down to the brook around noon, giving into an irresistible impulse to have a picnic by the water. She had carried her sandwich in a brown paper bag, just like a schoolgirl. She climbed over the rocks, moving upstream, looking for just the right spot. Along the muddy banks