"I could tell them you forced me."
"We've got the murder weapon, and your prints are all over it."
"That's not possible."
"We transferred them. Also, we've got a pair of your sneakers with Oglethorpe's blood on them. We've got…trust me, we've got plenty of evidence to put you away for life. But that's just a contingency. We've got something much better."
"What are you talking about?"
"We know your biggest weakness."
"I'm not following you."
"Let me put it this way: what's the most important thing in the world to you?"
Lissie!
He sees my expression.
"That's right, Buddy. We can do whatever we want to your precious Lissie. Anytime we want. And don't forget it."
Chapter 26
Rudy tells me to take I-265 west to 64, and says I'll be dropping him and Richie off in Simpsonville.
"What's in Simpsonville?"
"You have to ask?"
"No."
"Say it."
"It's where Sally and Tom live."
"See? I keep telling our people you're not as dumb as you look. By the way, we've got a tracking device on your car. If you try to stop somewhere on the way home, we'll know it."
I know these people are well-funded, but I'm pretty sure he's bluffing. They couldn't possibly have someone watching me full time on a monitor.
Rudy says, "I can tell you don't believe me, so I'm gonna give you an example. When you get to the next exit, get off and try to hide somewhere."
I take the next exit and drive two blocks and park my car behind a strip center. In less than a minute a car pulls in front of me and the driver flashes his hi-beam in my face. He gets out and walks to my window with his gun aimed at my face. He motions for me to roll down the window.
"You're not allowed to stop on the way home," he says. "You're not allowed to use a phone, or enter a business, or any other structure. Not even a porta potty."
He looks at Richie a long moment, then at Rudy. "Everything all right here?"
"I just wanted him to understand the rules."
The guy nods and walks back to his car and waits for me to pull out. I do, and get back on the interstate, headed for Simpsonville. I don't see him again, but I know he's back there in the distance.
I drop them off and watch Rudy lead Richie to a black sedan. Richie never said a word to me before getting out of the car, and even now there's not so much as a wave. I think back to the three guys who were hanging out in the basement of my split-level ranch less than a week ago, smoking a joint, dreaming about having sex with movie stars. As I watch Richie climb into the back seat I fear I will never see him again.
I check the clock on the dashboard and see I've been gone five hours.
All the way home, I'm trying to figure out how to make a phone call to the one person who might be able to help me, a contract killer named Donovan Creed. I just don't know how to make the call without getting caught.
I drive back to my place and put the car in the garage. I go inside and race up the stairs to our bedroom to check on Lissie, and find her sleeping on her side, just the way I left her. I look for her cell phone, find it, and try to place a call. But there's no dial tone. I pick up my home phone and hear a click. Rudy wasn't lying, they've tapped our phone.
I go back down the steps, out to the garage, and check the places where I hid random bricks of cash. They're all there. I go back inside the house, pour myself a shot of whiskey, down it in one gulp, head back up the stairs, and climb into bed with Lissie.
Chapter 27
"Jesus, Buddy, how much did we drink last night?"
I wake up, startled.
"What?"
"I'm so groggy. Are you?"
According to the clock on the end table, it's nearly eleven. "Yeah, I feel like I'm in a fog. We were pretty lit."
"My God, I feel like I've been hit by a truck."
"I should have made you stop."
She sat up, tried to focus. "Oh, shit."
"What's the matter?"
"I'm still wearing my nightie."
"So?"
"We didn't make love."
"Oh. You're right. We must have passed out."
She smiles and kisses me on the cheek. "Well, we're not used to so much excitement. But Buddy?"
"Yeah?"
"Congratulations, superstar. I'm really proud of you."
"Thanks, hon."
Lissie gets out of the bed and stumbles slightly on her way to the bathroom, reminding me of Jinny, and how she stumbled when heading to the closet to fetch my money. God, was that just yesterday?
"Oh, God," Lissie moans from inside the bathroom. "Sorry, but I'm going to be in here awhile."
"Okay, I understand."
"I feel like a beanbag that's been tossed one time too many."
I hear her retch, and then throw up. I run to the door. "You okay, baby?"
"Not feeling so good. I must have been plastered last night. I hope I didn't embarrass you."
"No, you were great. You remember dinner, right? And the concert?"
"Oh, my God, yes! And Perkins! I remember him walking me to the door."
"Right."
She vomits again. "God, I'm sorry, Buddy. I hate for you to see me like this."
I feel guilty as hell about the sedative and ask, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No. Please, just go downstairs or somewhere you can't hear me. I really don't want to gross you out."
"Okay, honey. I hope you feel better soon."
I feel like a complete shit heel. I'm happy about the million dollars in the garage, but I keep remembering Pete Rossman in the jet yesterday, telling me what was in the fine print of the Wish List Agreement:
"Your life."
I rush downstairs to the kitchen and fire up my computer, get online, and type in www.wishlist.bz. When the website loads, I look for the Agreement.
I find the little box that lets you read the fine print, and click it. I scroll up, down, reading the words, searching for loopholes. Specifically, I wonder if I can make new wishes to cancel out the old ones. But I'm no attorney. I can't make sense of all the legalese in the agreement. I start a new list and type the words Never Harm Lissie, and a message comes on the screen:
BUDDY, YOUR FOUR WISHES HAVE BEEN GRANTED.
Holy shit! I erase the wish and back myself off the website. I don't want Lissie involved with these bastards any more than she already is. Nor do I want more wishes that have to be repaid! I just want to be left alone with my wife and our life and our million dollars. I don't want to get arrested for killing my boss, and I don't want to be linked in the killing of Sally and Tom, and I don't want to know what made Jinny Kidwell agree to have sex with me. I wonder what the chances are that Rudy and the company will let me do my paybacks and leave us alone. It makes sense they would. If I participate, and do everything they ask, they should be willing to let me walk away.
Then I think about Richie and wonder what I'll do if they ask me to kill someone.
At that precise moment, there's a knock at the kitchen door. I jump up and look through the peephole.
And see Rudy.
Chapter 28
"What are you doing here? Lissie's home!"
Rudy and I are on the porch. I've got the door closed, hoping Lissie doesn't come downstairs before I can get rid of him.
"How's she feeling this morning?" he says.
"You know about the sedative?"
"I know about everything."
"Then you should know she's a bit under the weather."
"No need to bite my head off, Champ, I was just trying to make conversation."
"Look, I just want out."
"Out of what?"
"This whole thing. The Wish List. I want out."