“Julian, right?”
I might not have recognized her dressed down, out of her slick dress and into jeans and a green fleece. I might not have recognized her with her long, tangly hair hidden underneath a brown beanie, an odd choice for this weather. I might not have, if it was anyone else, but it was her, so I did. I recognized her immediately, before I saw her face. I felt her presence, just as I had the first night, and her gravelly voice was unmistakable. Her eyes were unmistakable.
“I’m Adeline,” she said, when I didn’t respond right away. She reached out and shook my hand as if I needed a refresher on who she was. Her smile was effortless.
“Of course,” I said. “I remember you.” She stood eye-to-eye with me, or just a little shorter. She smelled of faint perfume. She owned the room, again. I got the self-conscious feeling of being watched, as if the other scattered patrons had all turned to stare at us, to see how I handled the interaction. I looked to my right. They hadn’t.
“You’re Suzanne’s guy,” she said.
“Something like that,” I said. “You’re Vince’s girl.”
“Something like that,” she said, and laughed.
Later, I would replay that line in my head a thousand times, analyzing the tone, dissecting the laugh, deciding the words meant nothing then reopening the case again five minutes later. Something like that. It would haunt me, because it suggested a glimmer of hope. And the human spirit will strive heedlessly towards the smallest glimmer when it is looking for hope. I found myself spending hours and days exploring the vast possibilities that lived inside that one innocuous statement.
And I wanted her. I didn’t know why, exactly, and it didn’t seem to matter. I just knew I wanted her; hard, fast, and terribly. We’d exchanged only a handful of sentences, but I knew it from the beginning. I had never believed in love at first sight, and I still didn’t. It wasn’t love. I didn’t know what it was. It was just a firm, hard, iron-gripped wanting, the way a child wants a popular new toy. I desired her. The hair, the flawless skin, the legs, the eyes. My god, the eyes. Outwardly, she was as close to perfection as I had seen.
She asked me to sit down and I almost said no, because I didn’t want to disappoint her. My mind thought of excuses—had to be somewhere, was late for some thing—immediately, without my consent. I was afraid of her, and of what she represented. But I did sit down.
We made small talk and drank coffee, normal conversation between normal people. She kept asking about Suzanne, and I kept remembering she existed.
27
The weather began to cool. It was only August, but already I could feel the season change; summer was holding on, but its days were numbered. I needed long sleeves in the evenings. One by one, slowly, leaves began to change colors.
The runs continued. I once considered quitting. Just telling Vince thanks, but I was done. Wasn’t for me. I could bartend again or get another hourly job as I figured things out. I mapped out the whole conversation mentally. He would understand. But the money was good and I struggled to find a tangible reason to quit. I only had the feeling of unrest in the pit of my stomach, and that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t justify throwing away a good paying job on a premonition.
On the way to Grand Junction, Damon asked me about my meeting.
“Didn’t know you knew about that,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said, steering us along I-70, “small community we got.”
I sighed. “So what do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “You don’t gotta tell me anything. I’m just curious, I guess. How it went down, and all.”
“Let me ask you something,” I said. “Is that a normal thing? Him calling us guys up to his place, back to his office, just for chats?”
He thought about it. “Certainly happens from time to time. Wouldn’t say it’s standard operating procedure.”
I sat silent for a few moments and digested the information. Vince had said it was normal. Just a chat with an employee, to check in. Something he did all the time.
“It was weird,” I finally said. “It was like he was on edge or something. I sure as hell was. But there wasn’t even a point to the meeting, really. It was like he just called me up there to ask me if there was anything I wanted to ask him.”
“He asked you if there was anything you wanted to ask him?”
“Yeah.”
“And that was it?”
“Sort of, but not really,” I said. “Not sure I know the guy well enough to read him or anything, but there was something else going on. It was like there was something he was waiting for me to ask. Like he expected a certain question.”
The car was silent, except for the steady drone of a radio turned down low.
“Did you ask him anything?” Damon asked.
“Yeah. Well, not right away. It seemed like he was tricking me or something, so I didn’t want to. But he kept pushing. So I just asked about the cargo. What it is we’re actually hauling.”
“And?”
“At first he didn’t answer. He just gave me this lecture about staying focused on the things you need to know. But then, right before I left, he told me.”
“And?”
“Electronics,” I said. “That’s what he told me. All different kinds. But I’m sure you knew that.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Woulda guessed something else, to be honest.”
“No way,” I said. “You didn’t know? And you’ve been doing this for how long?”
“No man. That thing you said about minding your business—that’s how it works.”
I looked at him and lowered my voice. “You’ve never…looked?”
“Looked?”
“Yeah. Taken a peek in the trunk.”
“God no,” he said. “No, sure wouldn’t think ‘a doin’ that. That’s askin’ for trouble right there.”
I shook my head. “I think you’re a little dramatic. It’s not like we’re involved in some cult.”
“Course not. That just isn’t our business though. This is a good job I’d like to keep. Followin’ directions has worked for me so far.”
“And you don’t care why he’s so secretive.”
“Not really,” he said. “But man, he just told you. You asked and he told you what you were haulin’. So it’s not even a secret.”
“Right,” I said.
“So there. Case closed. We can get on with it.”
We could see the lights of Grand Junction now. The highway pitched down and turned right.
“Just doesn’t feel right,” I said. “Something about it.”
“Well, if it helps, I can tell ya’ I’ve been doin this for a long time, and never had one problem. Not one. You keep your head down and do the work, you’ll be fine. It’s a good gig, ain’t it?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
We sat in silence while he drove down the long hill and approached the edge of town. The night sky was cloudy. There were no stars or moon.
“How’s the girl of yours?” I asked.
“Ah,” he said, “’fraid that didn’t work out.”
“Already? Bummer.”
He shrugged. “Way it goes.”
He drove us through town and to the drop spot. I had the route memorized at that point, and could have driven us there with my eyes closed. Always the same exit, always the same turns, always the same industrial lot. We parked and before getting out, he turned to face me.
“Listen, man,” he said. “All these questions and stuff. Just be careful with all that.”
“This is what I’m talking about. What’s with the paranoia?”
“Not paranoia. Nothin’ like that. It’s just, I like you. I like drivin’ to the runs with you, talkin’ in the car, all that. You’re a good dude. I wouldn’t want to see ya get booted just because you got a wild imagination, ya know?”