Joe Lansdale - Cold in July

“It would pain me too. Killing you or getting killed by you, so let’s just hope that don’t come up.”

“It won’t. If it’s Freddy, then I’ll accept he was burglarizing Dane’s house and Dane had to kill him.” Russel looked at me. “I know now you didn’t just shoot him unarmed and plant a gun. You aren’t like that.”

“My, haven’t we gotten to be chummy,” Ann said.

“And little lady,” Jim Bob said, “you keep that sarcastic edge, cause we’re gonna need it to keep us sharp. Now, let me finish up this feast, then I’d like to get Ben and me checked into a room. Mr. and Mrs. Dane, y’all go on home and I’ll call you. And if you’re starting to sweat a little bit in the pocketbook and wondering what I’m gonna cost you, it’sst s, I like this. Three hundred dollars a day, no expenses. I cut that cause I know Ben. As for the stay at the Holiday Inn for me and Ben, I got that covered. If that sounds steep to you, don’t know what to tell you. That’s the price. I don’t just do this for my health and I ain’t so friendly to Ben here I’ll do it for free.”

“That’s all right,” I said.

“It’s high,” Ann said.

“It’ll do,” I said.

Jim Bob laughed. “Don’t you just love women? They can squeeze a dollar till it farts-no offense ma’am. Listen, you two go home and I’ll call you when I want you. I won’t give details over the phone. I’ll just call and you come here and we’ll talk in person. Way this is shaping up, could be something big and nasty going on here, and if that’s the case, they’re out at your place tapping the phones right now.”

I thought about that and couldn’t really imagine it. It sounded too much like one of those bad made-for-television movies.

“If the fella over there follows you out and follows you home, don’t pay him no mind. It don’t mean a thing. Or he might have a buddy follow you. But you just go home and wait. Got me?”

“Got you,” I said.

“Lady,” Jim Bob said, “you don’t have to come back if you don’t want to. But if you come, I want you to be cooperative, and I don’t want you worrying about snagging your panty hose or such. We’ll be humping right along, I figure, and we don’t need no slackers.”

“I assure you, Mr. Jim Bob,” Ann almost whistled through her teeth, “I’m not a slacker.”

“I didn’t actually figure you for one,” Jim Bob said.

“Jim Bob likes to ingratiate himself with his clients,” Russel said. “Make ‘em feel trusted and warm.”

“My business ain’t public relations-unless I’m lying for a good reason,” Jim Bob said. “But I don’t lie to my employers. It’s not the way it’s done.”

Ann got up and started out of the hotel restaurant without saying a word. I stood and took out my wallet.

“Nah,” Jim Bob said. “You folks just had pie and coffee. I’ll get it and the tip. Go on and catch up with her. And, Dane, tell her she’s right, three hundred a day is high. But I’m the best there is, and by God, I don’t normally pay my own expenses.”

· · ·

On the way home Ann turned the radio on too loud and sat on the far side of the car with her arms crossed, and after a while she turned the radio off and drummed her fingers on the dash. Jordan was in the backseat looking puzzled. Ever since we had picked him up at the day school he had known something was going on, but he didn’t know exactly what.

“Mommy, you mad at Daddy?”

“Just a little,” she said.

“Don’t be mad at Daddy. ”

“It’ll pass,” she said.

God, I hoped so.

When we got home, we made arrangements for the Fergusons to keep Jordan. They had kids and we kept them sometimes, and we were actually owed a couple of overnight sleeps, which was the big thing with Jordan and their boys lately. Sometimes Jordan had to call us at bedtime and be reassured, but all in all he didn’t mind. And by the next day, we would practically have to pry the kids apart to get Jordan to go home.

Ann took Jordan to their house while I sat watching TV, but really listening for the phone. Wanting it to ring. Wanting to get on with things.

Nothing happened.

Ann came back and we finally went to bed about ten and made love, which wasn’t too good because she was still mad at me. Or mad at Jim Bob really, but I was handy. She said something about, “I’ll make that goddamn bastard think snag my panty hose” a couple of times before we gave it up for the night and she rolled into my arms and I held my hand between her legs and buried my nose in the fragrance of her hair. And just as I was drifting into sleep, the phone rang.

I got to it without turning over the nightstand and groped it off the hook and coughed something into it.

“Get on up here,” Jim Bob said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Coming.”

“You awake?”

“About half-ass.”

“Well be whole-ass by the time you get here, got me?”

I said something and lay back down. Ann rolled over and put her arm around my chest. “Jim Bob?”

“Yeah. We’ve got to go meet him.”

“Does that mean we don’t have time for a quickie?”

“He didn’t say anything about a time limit,” I said.

Our lovemaking was rushed, but Ann wasn’t mad anymore, and it was better than when we had spent more time. I knew why.

We were both scared.

Jim Bob and Russel met us out in the parking lot.

“We’ll take the Red Bitch,” Jim Bob said.

Ann and I got in the back and Russel got in front with Jim Bob. It occurred to me that if Russel and Jim Bob were pulling our legs, they might be taking us out to the river bottoms to dispose of us. It could be that way. Russel and Jim Bob had been friends for a long time, and I hadn’t any idea what Russel had really said to him on the phone. I wished I had thought of that before now. I looked at Ann, and as the lights from stores and buildings slanted across her face and made her fine profile show there in the car, I got the feeling the same thoughts had occurred to her. I figured that if that was the case, her last words to me would be, “I told you so.”

We drove on out of town and as we did I looked over the Red Bitch real good. The upholstery was red and on the dash in upraised blue-silver letters was JIM BOB. The steering wheel was covered with a tacky, false cheeta skin and an emerald-colored suicide knob the size of a doorknob was fastened to that. Jim Bob liked to drive with his left hand on the knob and his right hand across the back rest. I could see a little of his face in the rearview mirror. He looked happy as a drunk.

“How are we going to dig him up?” I asked. It had occurred to me that I hadn’t seen any shovels, and that was making me even more nervous.

“Got some shovels and stuff in the trunk there. All manner of tools. Damn near everything’s back there in the trunk but another car.”

“Maybe we could use another,” Russel said. “This ain’t exactly one to be sneaking around in.”

“Who’s sneaking, goddamnit. We’re driving. Ain’t no crime in driving. Hell, I have a pickup, but I didn’t bring it.”

“No joke,” Russel said.

Jim Bob looked over at Russel and grinned. “Want to see me lose this cop?”

Russel grinned back. “I thought you were losing your touch. I noticed him when we left the Holiday Inn. They switched cars on us.”

Neither Ann nor I had looked back to see the car that was supposed to be following us, but it was tempting.

“Are you sure it’s a cop behind us?” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Jim Bob said.

“Can’t he just pull us over?”

“What for, driving a red Caddy? That ain’t no crime.”

“Perhaps this one ought to be,” Ann said.