“So what’s the problem?” I asked, trying to seem unimpressed with her heroism.
“Holland got Idabell to do it.”
“How does that work?”
“Roman kept calling but I wouldn’t talk to him. I was afraid to go to the police, I didn’t even know what I would say. So I just waited it out. When nothing happened I thought that everything was okay.
“And then a month or so later Idabell calls and asks if we can spend a few days in Paris. She said that Holland was going out of town. I got her a ticket. It was only when we were landing in L.A. that I saw the croquet set. It had been delivered to our hotel and she got it without me knowing.”
“But why would she do that? She didn’t owe anything to Roman, did she?”
“It was because of Pharaoh.”
“The dog.”
“Roman promised to share the money with Holland if he would get Ida to do it. So Holland hid the dog and told Ida that he’d kill it if she didn’t do what he said. You know Ida’s crazy over that dog.”
“But who killed them?”
“I guess it was the people who they were doing business with. The man who came to my house today.”
It made sense. It was a simple case of a falling out among thieves.
“But maybe Idabell killed Holland,” I guessed out loud.
“No,” said Miss Shay. “I don’t believe that.”
“Maybe to save her dog?” I speculated. “That damn dog seems to be the reason for every problem we have.”
“Idabell wouldn’t even know how to kill a man. Where would she get a gun?”
“Out of her husband’s top drawer. That’s where most men keep their guns, you know. In the top drawer, next to the bed.” I was just talking. “So now what do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?” She looked around, coming aware that she was in a strange man’s house. After all, what did she know about me? Killers had kids too.
“You wanna go to the cops?” I offered.
“Maybe I should.”
“Maybe so. I mean, if your life is in danger then maybe the cops will help; maybe they’ll believe that you didn’t know what was going on. But if they don’t believe you you’ll be alive, but you’ll also be in jail.”
She stood up quickly and took a step toward the door.
I stayed in my chair.
“Why are you trying to scare me, Mr. Rawlins?”
“I’m not tryin’ to scare you, honey,” I sighed. “I’m just tryin’ to point out that we both want the same thing.”
“What’s that?”
“To be let alone. That’s all. We both got lives and jobs and we both want a future. Police don’t care about none’a that.”
Bonnie stared at the floor in front of my feet the same way that Jesus had.
“You want to sleep for a while?” I asked.
“I, I don’t know. I’m tired, but…”
“You can have my bed. I’m’onna be here for a while. You could get some sleep and then we’ll figure out what you should do.”
I took her into my room and she stretched out on top of the blankets. I spent the next half an hour in the kitchen going over the crimes in my mind again. Sanchez and Fogherty smelled the drugs somehow. I don’t think they knew what or how, because if they did they would have either left me alone or thrown me in jail.
No, they had suspicions, that’s all. They wanted to know more about the whiff of dope that stuck in their nostrils.
He didn’t know it, but Sanchez wanted Bonnie. I’d never give her to him. She wasn’t the kind of woman that a fool like me could give up.
When the phone started ringing I decided not to answer it. On the sixth ring I wondered who it was. On the tenth bell I picked up the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Mr. Rawlins,” Hiram T. Newgate bellowed. “I see that you’re still at home.”
“What do you want, Hiram?”
“What do you think? You’ve decided not to come in to work anymore. The police are investigating you for theft — maybe worse. I’m calling to ask for your resignation.”
“My what? Are you crazy?”
“I have a school to run,” he said. “A school. I can’t have the people working for me disappearing without a word.”
“Didn’t Stowe call you?”
“This isn’t his school. He can’t just take my people. And anyway, you aren’t even working. You’re at home.”
I moved the receiver from my ear, intent on slamming it down, but I checked myself.
“Mr. Newgate, listen to me.” I breathed through the sentence so that he could hear the hiss in my throat. “I’m doin’ a job for the area office. Mr. Stowe is my boss — not you. I work for him. He provides my services to you. If you have a complaint then call the grievance office — and lodge it.”
“I won’t have you working for me, Rawlins.”
“Good-bye,” I said. And we both hung up.
“Mr. Rawlins?” She was standing at the door to the kitchen.
“Yeah?” I let my eye settle on that small stain.
“I don’t want you to think I’m flirting with you,” she said.
“If this was you flirtin’, then love would strike me dead.”
She smiled and said, “Will you come lie next to me?”
“What?”
“You’re right, I’m very tired, but I’m scared in the bed alone. When I get up the room starts spinning. Just lie next to me — until I fall asleep.”
I sat up against the head of the bed while Bonnie lay curled toward me. We weren’t touching.
“Is she really dead?” Bonnie asked.
I didn’t answer her.
“I couldn’t go to sleep for thinking about it. I was afraid for her. I was afraid something would happen while I was gone.”
“You thought Holland or Roman would do something?” I asked.
Bonnie sat up and looked me in the eye. “Tell me what happened,” she said.
I told almost all of it. Not the lovemaking, I was shy about that, but I told her about meeting Idabell and taking her to Bonnie’s street. I told her what we talked about and about the man running through the rain. I told her about the park and Pharaoh’s cries.
“She deserved better,” Bonnie said.
“I know.”
She looked at me as closely as Sanchez had. And when I said my last words she nodded and allowed her eyes to fill with tears. Her intuition told her that I was telling the truth.
I’d never felt closer to another soul.
Bonnie lay on her side, facing me, a peaceful look on her sleeping face. I wanted to touch her, to run my hand down the curve of her breast. But instead I stayed on my back with my hands behind my head.
Most people say that a man loses his rational abilities when he gets sexually aroused. I’ve often found the opposite to be true. My mind is sometimes clearest when there’s no doubt about how I’m feeling.
The tiles began to fall together in my mind. The characters of my little play, living and dead, picked up their parts and rehearsed their lines. I started with a happy ending and then worked backwards from there.
“Mr. Rawlins?” I was down in Louisiana again working my hoe on a row of snap beans. “Mr. Rawlins?”
Bonnie was standing over me but she wasn’t looking at my face.
My hand was down over my crotch.
“It’s noon, Mr. Rawlins.”
“Easy.”
“What?”
“That’s my name. Call me Easy.”
She had a nice smile. “You should get up.”
30
There were butter-grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and lemonade, made from the lemons in my yard, waiting on the kitchen table. A raven was stalking around outside the back window, searching the lawn for seed.
“You got someplace to go?” I asked her. “To lay low.”