“Then I’m not fooling anybody.” He lay on the bed and closed his eyes.
“When should I wake you up?” she said.
“I’ll wake up in a few hours. Why don’t you sleep, too?”
“How can you sleep at a time like this?”
“It’s hard with you talking.”
“What about Darlene?”
“The cowboy’ll be out of there by noon, probably. We’ll call on her then.”
“What if she gets up before then? What if she leaves?”
“Where would she go? Church?”
“She could go somewhere in the afternoon. Shopping in Burlington.”
“She’ll be back, then. Are the bars open here on Sunday?”
“Yeah.”
“She’ll be back.”
“Yeah. I suppose you’re right. Nolan.”
“What?”
“Can I lay down on the bed?”
“There’s only one bed.”
“Does that mean yes?”
“It’s a double bed, isn’t it?”
“That means yes.” She lay down.
A few minutes went by.
“You’re not asleep yet, are you?” she asked him.
“Apparently not.”
“Am I bothering you?”
“No.” His eyes were closed.
“You’re tense.”
“I’m fine.” He rolled over on his stomach.
He felt her hands on his shoulders, on the muscles between his neck and shoulders. She began rubbing. “You are too tense,” she said. It felt good.
“Well, maybe I am,” he said.
“Does that feel good?”
“Keep doing it,” he said.
She rubbed. Then she untucked his shirt and reached her hands up under it and scratched.
“How’s that feel?”
“Good.”
“Just good?”
“Very good.”
“I thought you were human.”
“Why, is that news?”
“I just never knew a man who didn’t like his back scratched.”
She stopped and he turned over and leaned against his elbow and smiled at her. She was a cute kid; nice tits with the nipples poking at the Nodes T-shirt.
“Turn over,” he said.
She grinned and got on her stomach. He rubbed her back a while; then he reached his hand under the T-shirt and scratched her back. She made contented sounds, like a purring kitten.
He slapped her butt and she yelped.
“Looks like you’re human, too,” he said.
She turned over and smiled up at him; took his hands and put them up under her shirt, in front this time.
“Hey,” he said.
“What?” she said.
He didn’t pull his hands away; he liked them where they were.
“You’re Jon’s girlfriend,” he said.
“I’m not his girlfriend. I’m his friend.”
“Just a fellow band member, huh?”
“That’s right.”
She kissed him. Slow, sweet kiss.
He looked at her, pushed her away from him, hands still under her shirt; she had a scared look.
“I need to be close to somebody right now,” she said. “And I don’t think it would hurt you, either.”
She pulled her T-shirt off; her breasts looked just as nice as they felt.
He turned off the light. He took off his clothes, and she took hers off, too. They got under the covers and made love; it was slow and rather sweet. Like the kiss. She was right: it was exactly what he needed right now.
Afterwards, he sat up in bed and said, “Are you sure you’re not Jon’s girlfriend?”
“I care about him a great deal.”
“You’ve never slept with him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He shook his head, smiled disgustedly. “I been had.”
“Me too,” she said. “Listen, I’m thirsty.”
“There’s a pop machine a few doors down.”
“I’d rather have Cutty Sark.”
“I bet you would. Will you settle for a Coke?”
“Sure,” she said. “You don’t really mean you’re going to go get it for me?”
He shrugged. “You scratch my back...”
He put his clothes on. As an afterthought, he stuck the silenced 9 mm in his waistband.
“Do you need that?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“No,” Nolan said, meaning it. “I’m just being paranoid.”
The night air — actually early morning air — was still cold, and he still liked the feel of it, the alertness it gave him. He hadn’t managed to get any sleep yet, after all. But the girl had done him good. She had released some of his tension, though he found himself feeling guilty, as if he’d somehow betrayed Sherry. Which was crazy. He wasn’t married. But he didn’t suppose this Toni could understand how he felt, not with the strange sense of morality she and that generation of hers seemed to have.
As he was nearing the Coke machine, he noticed a car parked in the stall in front of one of the other rooms: a shiny black Mazda. Sporty little car, but it wasn’t the car that caught his eye — it was the license plate. Even though this was Illinois, most of the plates on the cars in the motel stalls were Iowa ones; this one was Illinois, specifically Rock Island County.
Infante.
Nolan had left his LTD home, with its Rock Island plates, for just this reason; he’d suffered the discomfort of Sherry’s little Datsun because its Ohio plates wouldn’t lead anybody to him.
But Infante was dumb. Which became even more obvious when Nolan found the car unlocked. He checked the registration; the car belonged to Carl R. Hines, Infante’s boss.
Nolan took the 9 mm out of his waistband.
He went to the door of the room the Mazda was parked in front of. He knocked.
Infante answered the door wearing a towel, which he held around him with one hand; in the other was the twin to Nolan’s 9 mm, but he was too startled and slow for it to do him any good.
Before Infante knew what was happening, Nolan slapped him across the face with the automatic, knocking him back into the room, the 9 mm’s twin tumbling out of Infante’s hands, leaving him sitting on the floor with the towel a puddle across his lap, rubbing his face and saying, “Shit! Shit!”
Nolan shut the door.
Infante said, “You fucker!”
“Shut up.”
Infante started to get up.
Nolan pointed the 9 mm at Infante’s head. “Keep your seat,” he said.
Infante’s eyes darted around, looking for his 9 mm.
“It’s under the bed,” Nolan said. “I don’t think you can get to it in time.”
“I’m going to kill you, you fucker.”
“I don’t think so.”
“How did you get here so fast?”
“Weren’t you expecting me?”
“Not for a couple days. I figured first you’d go to Chicago and check on why we tried to hit you.”
“That’s pretty smart — for you, Infante. But, no, I already know who sent you: a bitch named Julie, with a heart as big as all indoors.”
“She’ll kill you if I don’t, Nolan. She’s smart. Too smart for you.”
“We’ll see. Where’s Jon?”
Infante grinned. “Your lover boy?”
“My what?”
“Julie told me about you two. I’m gonna kill him, too. I’m gonna feed him your dead dick, first. He’ll like that.”
Nolan laughed. “Julie is smart. She’s been pushing the right buttons where you’re concerned, obviously.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. What was the plan, Infante? Was she going to wait for me to show up, then try to trade Jon to me, in return for leaving her the hell alone?”
Infante looked disappointed. “Maybe,” he said.
“And then she was going to have you hit us both.”
Infante grinned again. “Maybe.”
“Where’s Jon?”