Six Bad Things_ A Novel - Charlie Huston [109]
—Morning, Henry.
The tube is on, but Sandy isn’t watching MTV.
THEY FOUND Sid and Rolf’s hot car at the Super 8. The clerk identified Sid and was able to give a good description of Rolf. So they have a sketch of him now. There’s a decent chance someone who knew him in San Diego or Mexico will see it and identify him.
There’s also some footage of Danny standing with one of the lawyers from O.J.’s defense team, but I make Sandy change the channel before I have to hear them say anything. Sandy is taking it all pretty well.
—It’s just a relief more than anything else. Like when you know you’ve seen an actor in a movie before, but can’t figure who he is. Or the name of a song you can’t remember? How annoying is that? I mean, I knew you had to be wanted for something. But I was like, who is this guy? I saw something on the news about something happening in California a couple days ago, but I had no idea you were supposed to be here. Weird. And now I’m thinking I almost hope those assholes that killed T and Terry find us, ’cause I got you on my side.
At first I thought she was so wired because she got some good sleep, but then I realized she had found the last three bindles of crank in T’s jacket. I watch as she dips the tip of her cigarette into the yellowish powder and then lights up, giving herself a little freebase hit on her first drag.
—Wheeew, that’s good. Sure you don’t want some?
—No.
My body is still trying to wring out the last of the poisons I’ve been dumping in it, but at least I got some real sleep. I have that stupid feeling you get when you sleep too much. I look at the clock. 9:27. Shit, I slept almost twelve hours. I go to the curtains and pull them open. It’s dark out. Sandy laughs.
—Yeah, can you believe that? Nothing like Percs to knock you out.
I look at the clock again. 9:27 PM. It’s Friday night. I’ve slept for twenty-four hours. Again.
—Where’s my phone?
Sandy shrugs.
Where’s my phone? Where’s my fucking phone? The TV. I turn the volume back up, but it’s Larry King now. They’ll cut in, right? If something has happened to Mom and Dad, they’ll cut in. Phone! It’s not in my pockets. I didn’t leave it on the nightstand.
—Is this it?
Sandy’s standing in the bathroom door with the phone. I left it in there when I cleaned up. I grab it from her and turn it on. It powers up and chirps and the LED screen shows that I have eleven messages. Fuck. I don’t even know how to get messages off this thing. I flick to the phone book and find the only number in there, Dylan’s number. The phone rings and I jump and it falls to the floor.
—Fuck.
Sandy reaches for it and I knock her hand away.
—Don’t touch that!
She holds her hands in the air.
—Excuse fucking me.
I pick up the phone, take it in the bathroom, and close the door. It rings a third time and I push the green button.
—It’s me. I’m here. I’m sorry, I.
—Dude, that you? Don’t you ever check your messages? Hey, I got someone here wants to talk to you.
I listen while Rolf passes the phone off.
—Hank? They killed Hitler. They killed my dog.
I COULD let him die. I could tell Rolf and Sid to fuck off. They have no idea where I am. I could just let them kill T, and their part in all this would be over. I mean, who is T? Just a guy I barely knew in high school. Just a crazed speed freak with a death wish anyway. Just a guy who wanted to help me protect my parents for no reason other than he misses his own.
Shit.
And anyway.
Tim is gone.
My friend took the money and he’s gone. That’s clear now. And my choices are gone with him. The ship is sinking and it’s time to get as many people off as possible.
I lie again.
I tell Sid and Rolf I know where the money is. I tell them I got Sandy to tell me where Tim is and I found him and he told me where the money is. They want to know where he is now. I tell them something they’ll believe, I tell them I