The bar was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with men in work shirts and fertilizer caps, drinking beer and shots and smoking cigarettes. Kate and Jack sat at a table and ordered bottles of Bass Ale. They had their backs to the door and could feel the draft move across the floor when somebody came in. The band, four long-haired Indians, kicked it out from a stage at the far end of the room.
Luke was out for the evening, on patrol with Bill Wink-“seeing a real cop in action” was how Bill put it. Kate grinning, thinking about it. She took Jack to the Happy Hour Tavern for sautéed perch and now they were at Boone’s Prime Time in Suttons Bay.
“I forgot why we came here,” Jack said.
Kate said, “How many chances you get to see Crazy Horse live?” She tapped a cigarette out of her pack and lit it. “They take requests, I understand. What’s your favorite speed-metal song?”
“I’m going to have to think about that,” Jack said, “there are so many.”
The band finished their set and said they were going to take a break. Jack got up, said he was going to the men’s.
Kate was thinking about Jack’s reaction when she gave him the fifty thousand. She’d agonized over it. She didn’t trust him and figured that was a way to find out if he was still working a con. He could’ve taken the check, cashed it and disappeared, if money was what he was after. He shocked her by giving it back, and now felt bad she doubted him. It looked like he’d changed; he was a different person after all.
Kate felt someone staring at her, looked over and met the gaze of a rugged-looking guy standing at the bar. He winked at her and she looked away. Now he came over to the table and sat in Jack’s seat. He had a longneck Rolling Rock in his hand.
“When they start letting injuns play instruments?” He drank his beer and said, “How you doing?”
Kate said, “I’m with someone.”
“Yeah, I know and you could do a lot better if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Kate said.
He had a square jaw and looked strong under the dark T-shirt and nylon jacket, like someone who worked construction his whole life. He had a mullet too.
He said, “How we going to get to know each other with that attitude?”
He was leering at her and it made her uncomfortable.
“What do you do,” Kate said, “that makes you so confident?”
“I’m good.”
“Yeah? What’re you good at?”
“Anything I set my mind to.”
He grinned, showing tobacco-stained teeth, and drained his beer bottle.
“Why don’t you set your mind to going back where you came from, try that,” Kate said.
He stood up but continued to stare at her.
“I’ve got a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Kate said.
He moved to the bar, looking back at her, grinning and put his empty on the bartop. He was sleazy, scary-looking. He creeped her out-made her nervous.
She saw Jack appear now, coming back into the room and she was relieved. The guy with the mullet stepped in front of Jack as he walked by the bar. She could see them exchanging words. Mullet pushed Jack and Jack pushed him back. Then a young good-looking girl walked in and separated them. The girl put her arm around Mullet’s waist and the three of them talked for a few minutes and Jack came back to the table.
Kate said, “What was that all about?”
“Some clown had too much to drink, was looking for trouble,” Jack said, sitting down.
It didn’t look that way to her, studying their body language, but Kate had no other explanation.
“Never seen him before in my life,” Jack said, looking her in the eye. “You okay?”
“He sat down where you are now,” Kate said, “tried to pick me up. Thinks highly of himself, very confident for a guy with a mullet.”
“That’s what shots and beers will do for a guy, give him a false sense of himself.”
He sounded like an expert on the subject.
The car ahead of them was having trouble staying in a straight line, kind of swerving in the lane.
Bill Wink said, “Looks like we’ve got somebody’s been over-served.”
They were cruising on a two-lane county road, flat, fallow fields on both sides. Luke was thinking about his dad when Bill flipped a switch on the dash and the light bar came on. Luke could see the multicolored reflection of the lights flashing through the windshield and off the white hood of the police car. More lights reflecting off the back of the car that was slowing down, pulling over, Luke listening to the dispatcher’s steady, measured voice, broken up by static from the police radio.
Bill said, “First thing we do is run the plate, see if there are any outstanding warrants.”
He punched the license number into the computer.
He said, “Know what kind of car that is?”
Luke said, “Z28 Camaro, ’69 or ’70.” It was green with a white racing stripe that went over the hood and trunk lid. He knew cars. He’d grown up at the racetrack and could probably name every American car from 1960 on.
Bill had picked him up earlier and brought a Point Blank Pro Plus vest for Luke to wear, Bill saying it belonged to a lady deputy-the men’s vests were too big-but that Luke had to wear one, departmental regulations. Luke wore it under his sweatshirt and was surprised how heavy and uncomfortable it was. Bill wore one too under his brown short-sleeve uniform shirt, showing off his arms.
“Ever been shot at?” Luke said.
“I was a rookie in Garden City. There’d been a shooting in the neighborhood. My job was to keep people out of the crime scene, make sure evidence wasn’t contaminated. I was talking to this woman who walked down the street and I’d swear I saw these two dudes come out of nowhere, pick her up and put her in the back of an Escalade-kidnapped her. I’m going, what in hell’s name is happening here?”
“What’d you do?”
“Followed them. They pulled into a shopping center; I pulled in behind them. I was doing a plate check just like this, see who I was dealing with. That’s when the shooting started. One of ’em had a machine gun, opened fire on my patrol car. I called for backup but I was pretty much on my own. Found out later, they were former Iraqi soldiers, Republican Guards worked for Saddam Hussein, hired by a local A-rab.”
“They hit you?”
“It’s a miracle I’m sitting here,” Bill Wink said.
“Did the vest save your life?”
“My patrol car looked like Swiss cheese,” Bill said. “Guess how many rounds they fired.”
Luke said, “Twenty.”
“Twenty? Try a hundred and eleven. I was hit six times. Each round stopped by Point Blank Pro Plus body armor just like you’re wearing.”
Luke said, “Think somebody’s going to shoot at us tonight?”
“No, I do not, but you never know. It’s like wearing a seat belt, okay? It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Bill glanced at the computer.
“Car’s registered to Theodore Monroe Hicks, address in Clawson, downstate, and yes, it’s a 1970 Chevrolet Camaro Z28. You know your stuff.”
Bill picked up his hat, grabbed his flashlight off the console and opened the door. He looked back at Luke and said, “They give me any trouble, pick up that radio and call for backup. We’re on County Road number 20, four miles from Empire. Can I count on you, partner?”
Luke said, “I think so.” Wondering if Bill Wink was serious. He could see the shapes of two heads in the Camaro as Bill approached the car.
Teddy sat in the front passenger seat, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright lights. Jesus, they were fucking blinding him. He opened the glove box, took out a big chrome-plated Sphinx nine, watching the cop get out of the patrol car. He saw the dark silhouette shape coming toward them.
It was a good thing Celeste was driving ’cause he was fucked up, trying to remember how many beers and shots of Jäger he’d had. He released the safety and racked a round into the chamber.
Celeste said, “Jesus, Teddy, you dipstick, put that away. I can handle this country boy.”
He slid the gun under the seat.
She hit the button and the window went down. She had her hands on the steering wheel-ten and two, the way they taught you at driver’s training-as the cop walked up and shined his flashlight in Celeste’s face.
He said, “License and registration.”
Now he swung the flashlight across the interior, holding on Teddy and then looking in the backseat. He was a sheriff ’s deputy. Teddy could tell by his Smoky the Bear hat.
Celeste said, “I don’t think I was speeding, was I?”
She handed him her license and registration and insurance certificate.
He seemed to study the license.
Celeste said, “It’s me. I had blond hair then.”
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“No, sir,” she said.
He was bending over, his head almost eye level.
“You were weaving all over the road,” the cop said. “You been drinking?”
“No, sir. I’m not allowed to on account of my religious conviction. I must’ve taken my eyes off the road trying to find that national Christian radio broadcast Theodore and I listen to. It offers spiritual enlightenment-food for the soul. You should tune in sometime, officer. It’s very inspirational.”
“How’s your driving record?”
“Clean as a whistle,” Celeste said. “Never got a ticket in my life.”
“All right, you have a nice evening. Keep your eyes on the road, let Mr. Hicks work the radio.”
Teddy waited till the deputy was in his car before he said, “Never had a ticket, huh? Listen, he doesn’t believe you, runs your license, sees you got more points than a boxful of pins, we’re fucked. And what was that bullshit about Christian radio?”
“It’s called quick thinking,” Celeste said. She put the car in gear.
“Wait till he goes,” Teddy said.
They watched the cop car pull out and pass them.
“You were laying it on a little thick.”
“He believed me ’cause I was convincing.” She looked in the rearview mirror, didn’t see headlights, and hit the accelerator, picking up speed.
“He believed you ’cause he wanted a piece of ass. If I wasn’t here he’d have asked for the order.”
“It’s over and done with. Why’re you worrying about what might’ve happened?”
Teddy could really be annoying.
Bill and Luke were talking about their favorite movies, driving through the woods to the lodge, high beams illuminating the narrow road Owen McCall had cut through heavy timber so he could build his place by the lake. Jesus, he had a spread, bordering national parkland on one side. Probably the biggest privately owned piece of property in northern Michigan. Bill wondered if this kid sitting next to him had any clue how rich he was.
Luke said, “My top five are Aliens, Terminator, Fargo, Rocky, and My Fair Lady.”
“What’d you say?”
Luke said, “I was kidding about My Fair Lady.”
“Geez, I hope so. I was thinking you went gay on me.”
“Pulp Fiction was my fifth favorite,” Luke said.
“That’s better.”
“What about you?”
Bill was thinking Full Metal Jacket, Rambo, Above the Law with Seagal; he also liked Rocky and The Rock, the one set on Alcatraz. That had some good action scenes. They came through the woods and pulled into the yard. There was a car parked in the circular drive, a Lexus. He glanced at Luke. “You got company?”
“It’s Jack,” Luke said.
“Who’s Jack?”
“An old friend of my mom’s.”
“He staying with you?”
“I don’t know,” Luke said.
Bill didn’t like it. He thought he’d been getting somewhere with Kate. And now this old friend shows up.
Luke took off the vest and said, “Thanks, it was a blast.” Got out and closed the door.
Bill couldn’t remember if he said good-bye to Luke or not, his brain was so clouded at the moment. Jesus, she trusted him enough to call up and ask for him personally. And he saw the look on her face the other day when she showed up at the lodge. He’d had his share of relationships. Knew women and there was something there, he was sure of it. He was going to ask her out to dinner, take her to Windows on the Bay-have a gourmet meal and a good bottle of wine. Get to know each other.
Maybe the guy was just a friend, as Luke said, but Bill doubted it. Kate was too good-looking and rich. He’d have to give this one some serious thought.