Craig Smith - Cold Rain

Walt was roasted, but the enthusiasm was genuine.

‘Sure! Whatever you need, David! What the hell happened anyway?’

‘Our friend Buddy Elder happened. I’ll tell you all about it when I get there.’

Walt’s apartment appeared to be reasonably clean, but that was because Walt did not have anything in his front room other than a reading chair and a lamp.

The dining room had a folding card table setup with a single chair before it. Walt and Barbara were worth something over five or five-and-a-half million to the best of my calculations, so this was how Walt chose to furnish his apartment. It was hardly the bachelor pad he had always talked about. In the bedroom he had a sleeping bag and pillow stretched out next to a tiny lamp. Beside the lamp about fifty books lay scattered about. I swore sourly to myself and wandered into the kitchen. I found a pan, a pot, and some picnic dishware. In the bathroom I discovered some extra razors but no second towel, nothing faintly resembling a washcloth, and certainly no toothbrush for the unexpected overnight sweetheart. I asked if I could borrow his toothpaste and he shouted that I was welcome to anything in the place.

Finishing the tour, I said, ‘I suppose a blanket and extra pillow is too much to hope for?’

Walt smiled. ‘You can always go to the twenty-four hour Wal-Mart. I think it’s twenty-four hours anyway.’

I shook my head. I was in no mood to go shopping, even if I could pay for what I needed. ‘I think I’ll just arm wrestle you for the sleeping bag,’ I said as I took the only chair in the room and set my twelve pack at my feet. ‘You want a beer?’

Walt waved his glass of Scotch at me and leaned back against the wall. ‘I’m drinking the good stuff.

What happened with Buddy?’

‘You know where Buddy Elder and Denise Conway live?’ I asked.

‘They live on North Ninth somewhere, a couple blocks from The Slipper, I think.’

I took a sip of beer. ‘What’s the address?’

‘I don’t know. I was only there one time.’

‘He’s not in the phone book.’

‘He wouldn’t be.’

‘Have you got his telephone number?’

‘No. What’s this about, David?’

I took another sip of beer. ‘I’m going to kill Buddy Elder. But first I have to find him.’

‘When did you start drinking again?’

‘This evening. Right after I read Denise Conway’s diary. No. Actually, I forgot. I started this afternoon during the third day of my heart attack.’

‘Denise keeps a diary?’ Walt looked sick.

‘Apparently since she started to school this fall. Buddy delivered it to Molly this afternoon. Molly was crying, Walt. I came home and she was in tears.’

‘Molly? Our Molly?’

‘He made her cry, Walt. That’s why I’m going to kill him.’

‘You’re not going to kill anybody.’

I shook my head and reached for another beer. ‘This whole thing! I thought it might be a misunderstanding, but after I read this diary I can see it’s no misunderstanding. It’s a set-up, and Buddy Elder is the guy behind it!’

‘What did it say?’

‘It’s a detailed account of an affair between Denise and me.’

‘Was I in it?’

‘No.’

‘How much of it is true?’

‘If I got a blow job I sure as hell forgot about it. If Denise gave you a blow job in your office, Walt, would you forget about it?’

Walt smiled fondly at the notion. ‘Not in this lifetime.’

‘She wrote about it! Graphically!’

‘And you think Buddy is behind it?’

I shouted my answer. Of course he was! What did he think? Sweet vacuous little Denise was going to dream this up? ‘Buddy controls her, Walt. He tells her what to do, and she does it.‘

‘Buddy likes you, David. Hell, if anything, he’s pissed off at me!’

‘Tell me about that.’

‘You mean Denise and me?’ Walt shook his head sorrowfully. ‘That wasn’t exactly my finest hour.’

‘I want the details. I want to know what the son of a bitch is all about.’

‘That wasn’t Buddy’s doing. This was Walt royally screwing up.’

I took a sip of beer and waited. I figured Walt was tuned up enough that I would get a full confession this time.’

‘We were drinking at Caleb’s.’ Walt laughed and finished his drink. He went to the kitchen, presumably for a refill, and called back to me, ‘Not the first time! I can tell you that!’ I heard him loading his glass with ice. A moment later he was back, his glass filled with scotch. As he spoke, he paced before me. ‘Buddy wanted to go to The Slipper. It was Denise’s day off, and she didn’t want to go. I mean, she spends an eight-hour shift there. The last thing she wants is to go in on her day off.’ Walt took a healthy sip.

‘You’re right about Buddy controlling her,’ he said,

‘but that girl has a temper! We went, but she was in a mood, let me tell you. It didn’t help matters any when Buddy started getting lap dances from one of the dancers. I mean one time, okay. Second time he takes the same girl and Denise starts feeling me up!’

Walt laughed excitedly. ‘I couldn’t believe it! She just grabs me and starts stroking it right there!’

‘When was this?’

‘Finals week. Anyway, Buddy is off getting his third lap dance and she says, ‘Let’s go outside.’ Who am I to argue? We get outside, climb in my car, and I swear it, David, she unzips me and we’re going at it-’

‘What does that mean, going at it? What was she doing?’

‘A hand job! She’s giving me a hand job and Buddy walks outside. She pulls back, kind of scared, and she runs back inside. I’m trying to get my pants together and Buddy comes over to the driver’s window, and he wants to know what we’re doing out there. Like he can’t believe it.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told him nothing! I said we were just talking.’

‘Did he buy it?’

Walt shook his head, looking down at this drink.

‘Things haven’t been the same since. We don’t get together anymore. I messed up big time.’

‘How did Barbara find out?’

‘A couple months later. I guess it was a week or so before your party. Someone called her. She didn’t say who it was. A woman. That’s all I know, but not Denise. She’s okay about it. I went in there a couple of times this summer, whenever I didn’t see Buddy’s car parked outside. Maybe a few more times than that.’

He grimaced as he apparently tallied the number of visits, then shrugged it off. ‘Denise is like, hey, we got a little carried away. No big deal.’

‘What was Buddy’s grade, Walt?’

‘That’s confidential.’

I finished my beer and threw the can at him. ‘What was his grade, Walt?’

‘He got an A. I gave him… well, he earned it, mostly.’

‘Mostly?’

‘He missed the final, and his term paper was about Hank Williams.’ Walt’s face twitched with the memory.

‘Hank Williams: Troubadour and Knight Errant.’ It was pretty good, actually.’

‘Unbelievable.’

‘I told them to be creative!’

‘I want you to show me where he lives. I want to have a talk with that slimy son of a bitch, and I want to have it now.’

Walt laughed and held his drink up. ‘Can’t do it tonight, David. I’m drinking tonight!’

I went into the kitchen and got his bottle. Snatching what was left of my twelve pack, I headed for the door. ‘You want to drink, you’re going to have to come with me.’

Walt complained that it wasn’t fair taking hostages.

As we drove into town Walt defended Buddy.

Buddy had every right to be pissed off. ‘How would you feel,’ he asked me, ‘if you walked in on Molly and me?’

‘Surprised.’

‘Yeah, well, so was Buddy. Friends don’t do that,’ he muttered with just a touch of righteousness.