She stopped, seemed to think for a minute, pushed her glasses up her nose, and said, Not yet.
THEYRE GONNA SCREW YOU, AUDREY MCDONALD shouted. Wilson was in the den, staring at a yellow pad. Audrey had gone to the kitchen to get a bowl of nacho chips and a glass of water; she snuck the vodka bottle out of the lazy Susan, poured two ounces into the glass, gulped it down, took a pull at the bottle, screwed the top back on, put it back on the lazy Susan, turned it halfway around, and shut the cupboard door. Then she stuffed a half-dozen nachos in her mouth to cover any scent of alcohol, got a full glass of water and the bowl of chips, and carried them back to the den.
If they were gonna give you the job…
I heard you, I heard you, Wilson McDonald snarled. I heard you a dozen fuckin times. Youre so full of shit sometimes, Audrey, that you dont even know youre full of shit. Im running the boardI chaired the meeting todayI can handle them.
Yeah? How many board members have you talked to, who were willing to commit?
He was shoving a fistful of chips into his mouth, chewed once, and said, Eirich and Goff and Brandt…
You told me that Brandt
I know what I said, he shouted. Ill get the fucker. That sonofabitch. Brandt had equivocated.
You cant count on
The phone rang, and they both turned to look at it. Did you talk to your father? Audrey asked.
Yes.
Huh. She stood up, took two steps, picked up the phone. Hello?.. . Yes, this is Audrey. She turned to look at Wilson. Why yes, hes here, somewhere. Let me call him.
She pressed the receiver to her chest and said, Its Susan ODell. She said she needs to talk to you right away.
Okay. Jesus, I wonder what she wants, right away?
It wont be good news, Audrey said. She was seized by a sudden dread, looking at her husbands querulousness. This wasnt going right.
Wilson took the phone. Hello? He listened for a moment, then said, Sure, thatll be okay. Give us an hour… Okay, see you then.
What?
Shes coming over. She wants to cut a deal.
Audrey brightened: If we can cut a deal, we knock Bone right out of contention. For that, we could offer her quite a bit.
Thats right. And we basically agree on The phone rang again, and he turned and picked it up, expecting to hear ODells voice again. Hello?
Again he listened, and finally: Really cant until about, say, ten oclock. Weve got guests… Okay, we stay up late anyway. See you then.
He hung up and Audrey raised her eyebrows.
Bone, he said. Andhewants to cut a deal.
Audrey smiled, almost chortled: My my. Arent we popular tonight. Arent we popular… The half a glass of vodka was brightening the world, right along with the phone calls. Weve got some planning to do.
ODELL CAME AND WENT.
Bone came and went.
McDonald went up to the bedroom, found a bottle of scotch hed hidden in the closet, ripped off the top and took a long pull. Jesus fuckin Christ, he bellowed. Whats wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong?
Audrey cowered in the doorway. Are they right? Are they right, Wilson? Shed been back to the lazy Susan, this time for a full glass of the vodka.
That motherfucking Brandt, that traitor, McDonald screamed. He took another long pull at the bottle, two swallows, three, four. When he took the bottle down, he seemed stunned. How could the fuckers do that?
And suddenly he was blubbering, his face red as a stop sign, the bottle hanging by his side.
Call your father, Audrey offered. Maybe he
Fuck that old asshole, McDonald screamed. Im dying. Im fucking dying. He began pulling at his shirt and when it came off, threw it in a wad on the floor. Audrey retreated to the hall, saw him trot into the bathroom, heard the water start in the oversized tub. A moment later, his trousers flew out the door, followed by his shorts.
Wilson, we really dont have time for this. Weve got to get ourselves together. Just because they said
They were right, you stupid fuckin cow, McDonald screamed. And he ran out of the bathroom, nude now, his penis bobbing up and down like a crab apple on a windy day. Im gone. Im out of it. Im dead in the fuckin water…
He spun around, looking for booze, found it in his hand. He was already drunk: hed finished half a fifth downstairs before he ran up to get the new bottle. Audrey, desperate, tried to rein him in. ODell and Bone couldnt be right. The job couldnt be gone. He couldnt be out of it.
Maybe ODells offer, the chairmanship…
Id be out of there in a month, he shouted. Id be nothing…
Wilson, I think if we
And you, you bitch. McDonald turned, his small eyes going flat as he moved toward her. You sure as shit didnt do anything to help. Weve got some planning to do, he mimicked, quoting her from early in the evening. Weve got yellow pads to fill up… And then they waltz in and tell me Im done.
Theyre wrong.
Shut up, he bellowed, and he hit her, open-handed. The blow picked her up, smashed her head against the doorjamb, and she went down, dazed, tried to crawl away. You fuckin come back here, youre gonna answer for this. He kicked her in the buttock, and she went down on her stomach. He stopped, nearly fell, caught himself, grabbed one of her feet and dragged her toward the bedroom.
Wilson, she screamed. She rolled and tried to hold on to the carpet, then the doorjamb. Dont, please dont. Tried to distract him Wilson, weve got to work.
Shut up, he screamed again, and he dropped her foot and grabbed the front of her blouse. Made powerful by the booze, he picked her bodily off the floor and hurled her at a wall. She hit with a flat smack and went down again. Crazy fuckin bitch… he mumbled, and he took another pull at the bottle. When I get fuckin finished with you, you wont be able to fuckincrawl…
TWELVE
VERY EARLY IN THE MORNING. COLD, DAMP, WITH THE sense that frost was sparkling off exposed skin.
Loring wore a suit that was almost exactly lime green, with a yellow silk shirt and tan alligator shoes, and a beige ankle-length plains duster, worn open. On someone else, the outfit might have looked strange. On Loring, who was slightly larger than a Buick, it was frightening.
Now just take it easy in there, Loring rasped. Everything is cool with everybody.
They were in an alley on the south side, walking toward a clapboard garage with silvered windows. Whose garage? Lucas asked.
A friend of Cotinas. The guys straight, they rode together before Cotina got wild. Hes the only guy in Minneapolis that Cotina knew whod loan them a spot to meet with the cops.
Couldve fuckin done it downtown, Lucas grumbled. Loring shook his head: Hes got those warrants out and hes paranoid. He says hes gonna turn himself in.
Right, Lucas said.
But hes got some shit to do first.
Like peddling a ton of Ice to make bail and pay legal fees.
Probably; but it aint like the warrants are any big deal. Assault and shit like that.
All right, Lucas said. They walked up to the garage and Loring banged on an access door. A man opened it, peered out.
Just the two of you?
Yeah, just the two, Loring said.
The man let them in: he was thin, wore a T-shirt with bare arms, despite the chilly weather. A leather jacket hung on a single chair that sat in the middle of the garage, while a jet-black Harley softtail squatted against the overhead door, ready to run.
Lucas looked around: So where is he?
Be here in a minute, the man said.
Whore you?
Bob, the man said. Hed taken a cell phone out of the jacket pocket, punched in a number, waited a minute, and spoke: Yeah, theyre here. Yeah. Okay. He punched off and said, Theyre just gonna cruise the neighborhood for a minute, then theyll be here.
Lucas turned and looked out the windowsthe silver film was one-way, so anyone inside could see out, but people outside would see only their own reflectionand after a few seconds of silence, Bob asked Loring, You still ride?
Yeah, when I can. My old ladys kind of gone off it, though.