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My head began to throb. “Did you?”

“Said I’d sign a release if he wanted so let’s get on with it.” She looked hard at me. “He says if we go down there he’s responsible for my safety. Like he’s my father? Then he says… ‘he’s unpredictable’. So I ask who he means. And Krom says — get this — the volcano. And so I say whoa, it talks? I’m trying to be funny, you know, lighten things up cuz the situation is getting a little creepy.”

“Did he laugh?”

She widened her eyes, the whites stark against her tan. “Yeah. So we went.”

At the Guardsmen’s table, Bill was trying to place the correct plate in front of the right guy, and the Guardsmen were laughing and shooting plates across the table to one another as fast as Bill could put them down.

“We took his car. He drove and you couldn’t even tell he’d been drinking. When we park and get out he asks me again if I’m sure about this. Like he’s in charge? So I just went along with him since I had other plans.”

“You and my brother.”

“And Bobby Panetta.”

I stole a glance at the back booth, where Bobby was pouring a beer for Matt DeMartini. Bobby caught me looking. His face showed nothing, beyond its mask of freckles. I had a deep affection for these guys — we’d grown up together — but I had to say they’d not grown much beyond high school. Neither, evidently, had my brother.

Jeanine said, “So we get out to the creek. It’s about midnight. I lead him to a spot and we strip off. He’s not bad, you know?” She gave me a half-lidded look.

I nodded. I’d seen.

“Except for the scar.”

“Scar?”

“Yeah, big one on his arm. All white and raised, but he’s got a cool tattoo over it. A spiral like one of those Indian swirly things? And then you see it’s all made out of words.”

So that’s what I’d seen, my night at the creek. “What did it say?”

“Too dark to read. And I’m, like, a little busy? It’s cold, I’m freezing my butt off. So’s he, I guess, but he’s too macho to show it. I’m trying to get him into the water — cuz the guys are waiting — and then he gets weird again. Gets all…courtly. I mean he holds out his hand like I’m too — what? — scared to go in first and he’s gonna lead me. And he’s looking at me the way he did in the Pen, that cold look, I mean it was dark but not so dark I couldn’t feel it. And then he says — the way you say something you got memorized—” she lowered her voice, “abandon all hope, you who enter here. Well I heard that back in school.” She gave a short laugh, a bark. “Sure as hell what I did when I went into class.” She threw a glance at Jack Altschul at the counter. “His class, for sure. You remember it? The saying I mean.”

“Dante,” I said. Ye, who enter.

“Oh yeah.” She held up her hand, took a bite of chili and a swallow of Coke.

I said, “And that didn’t spook you, Adrian quoting that?”

“It weirded me out but then he smiled like he’s joking, and anyway if he did anything I didn’t like all I had to do was yell and the guys would be on him.”

“Jimbo and Bobby.”

“Yeah. Anyway, we only go in ass deep. The whole idea is to keep near shore, I mean the location was important. So I stop and give him the chance and for a minute there I’m thinkin the guy’s wasted after all cuz he’s just not takin the bait. But that’s not it.” She stopped.

“What is it then?”

“He wants us to swim.”

The knot formed, behind my breastbone. “What’d you say?”

“I’m like, no way. It’s steaming, where he wants to go.”

“Where did he want to go?”

“The bench — that big slab of rock where everybody used to hang on, drink beer and grab ass. You know?”

I nodded.

“I say the fuckin volcano’s made the water squirrely out there. I say let’s just stay right here, it’s nice and warm, let’s do it here. Know what the dude says? Says what do you think’s making the water warm right here? Like I needed to hear that. Then he smiles. Says, how far will you go? Will you go out there?” She took on an almost thoughtful look. “It was like he was giving me the choice? Where you put someone on the spot and see what they’re gonna do? And there’s a good choice and a bad choice?”

I said, mouth dry, “What did you choose?”

She gave me a flat look. “He wasn’t giving me the choice after all.”

“Jesus.”

“He says yes, real soft, and he takes my hand and starts pulling me. We’re going in. And he knows I’m freaked cuz he leans real close and says you think I’ll let him win?”

We stared at each other. Him, again. The volcano.

Someone in the room began to sing My Old Kentucky Home and the Guardsmen picked it up. Jeanine suddenly grinned. She tapped her index finger on her chili spoon, keeping time, the grin fixed. Her eyes stayed on mine.

“And?” I said.

“I got him.”

“You got him how?”

“The plan.” Her finger stilled. “I mean, I’m not gonna go where he wants to go, so I just jumped him right where we were. Just wrapped myself around him and he’s still trying to pull me out there — and he’s got his hands all over me so the guys think this is it…and kapowie!” She sat forward, face alight. “Now we got him. The lights go on. Big spots, Jimbo’d snagged a couple of those emergency lanterns from the road crew and he’s on one bank and Bobby’s on the other. I mean the creek is lit, like we’re on stage. God did the guys get pictures.”

I said, “What did Adrian do?”

“Nothing. Just stands there watching me, and I’ll tell you I got out of there fast.”

“And then?”

“Then nothing. He does nothing. We got him. You saw the paper.”

Oh, I saw it. In the photo, Jeanine has her back to the camera. We see her long ponytail wetted halfway, snaking down her spine, and the spreading of her hips, slick with creek water. We see Krom’s big hand hovering, like it’s heading for her behind but her behind is submerged and there’s nothing patently obscene at the moment the shutter closed. We can see just a hint of Jeanine’s left breast. Over her shoulder is Krom’s naked torso, his groin obscured by Jeanine’s round hip. This is what makes the shot so perfectly composed — it’s printable, and we think we know what’s going on. Krom’s face is quite identifiable. The camera catches him at the moment of understanding. He’s looking coldly toward the camera but he has yet to let her go. And then, lifting the photo beyond the realm of a grab-ass party in the creek, is the sign. We can see it at shoreline, a slab on a post just beyond the nudes in the foreground. It has replaced the old sign Lindsay had installed, warning that swimming is inadvisable. This new sign is blunter. Extreme Danger! it says. Hot Creek Geological Site OFF-LIMITS.

It’s the sign Krom had installed, as the accompanying text points out.

I said, “Didn’t it occur to you he might try to finish what you started?”

“You mean, like, rape? Nah.”

“What about the guys?” I asked, tight.

She reached into her shirt front and pulled a lipstick from her bra. “What’s he gonna do, beat ‘em up? Land his ass in jail? He doesn’t want any more bad press than he’s got.” She glossed her lips.