Joe Lansdale - Lost Echoes

Harry said, “The shelter has got to be nearby.”

They walked a little more, then they could see lights and the great house of the McGuires. They stood at the edge of the woods and looked at it.

Tad said, “Nice digs.”

“The shelter is over there,” Harry said.

They eased along until they came to it, gently pulled the door back, went down inside. It was cold in there, but warmer than outside. Kayla flashed her light around. There wasn’t really anything to see.

“Question is,” Kayla said, “what happened to the redhead’s body?”

“I’m thinking it’s near here,” Tad said. “Hatted guy had already taken a chance chasing the guy, and he didn’t want to be seen dragging out a dead body. He was strong enough to do it, that’s for sure, but that wouldn’t be wise, exposing himself even more.”

“You think it’s here, in the shelter?” Harry asked.

Tad shook his head. “Don’t think so. This guy knew this place, so he probably knows McGuire. Hell. It could be McGuire. Whoever he was, he obviously didn’t leave Vincent here. There’s really no place to stash him. Under the bed, someone would have noticed when it started to stink.”

“So he got rid of the body outside,” Kayla said.

They went outside and walked along.

“May I see the light?” Tad asked. Kayla gave it to him, and Tad kept talking. “Way I see it, he killed the guy, dragged the body back out, and if I’m thinking the way he was, he disposed of it pretty quick.”

“I don’t see why he didn’t just leave it in the shelter,” Kayla said.

“Because he knew the guy who owns the place,” Tad said. “Or he was the guy owned the place, and didn’t want to take the chance of tying himself to it. If it was McGuire, wouldn’t be cool his daughter brought some date out here and they found Vincent propped in a corner, drawing ants.

“There’s some other thinking going on. Your dad’s dead, Vincent doesn’t show up, it points the business to him. Him being there was actually a lucky break. Kayla, you know anything about Vincent’s family?”

“Checked,” Kayla said. “Didn’t have one. They died when he was young. He was pretty much on his own. Worked in Sheetrock, was learning the mechanic business from my dad.”

Tad shined the light into the woods. There was a tire-track trail there.

“Where does this go?” Tad said.

Neither Harry or Kayla knew.

They walked down the trail a ways. Finally it broke out of a patch of woods and onto a little road that wound its way around a curve of trees.

“Hatted guy probably dragged him out here, other fella drove their car down here, loaded up the corpse, took him somewhere else to dump,” Tad said.

“Sounds likely,” Kayla said.

“Guesswork,” Tad said. “What’s left of the body could be over there behind that tree, for all I know.”

“We’ve done all we can do tonight,” Kayla said. “Let’s call in the dogs.”

48

Harry and Kayla sat with Tad at his house, drank diet colas and decaffeinated coffee until one in the morning, rehashing the night’s events.

Harry felt as if he had been pulled through the small end of a funnel, but all this talk, even if it was about the night’s events, was good. It kept him from remembering alone, kept him from thinking maybe the shadows weren’t gone, that they were hanging in the belfry of his head like cobwebs.

Yeah. That was a help, having Tad and Kayla. But a drink…God, a drink. And then another drink. Cold beer or hot whiskey. That would be the ticket for the pleasant ride to Numb Land.

Tad showed how he could throw coins and knock knickknacks off a shelf and break them. A pile of shattered elephants and assorted ceramic animals lay Humpty-Dumptied all over the place. Scattered amongst them were winks of shiny minted silver.

“My mother-in-law gave us that shit,” Tad said. “Me and the wife hated them. Been meaning to get rid of them. When I was drunk I thought about it all the time, but then I was too drunk to do anything.”

“Are those quarters you’re throwing?”

“Nickels. It’s all in the wrist.”

Finally Kayla took Harry back to her place, so he could pick up his car.

They lingered at the door, Kayla’s perfume driving him crazy, but there was no kissing. Harry liked to think it was in the air, a kiss, but if it was, he didn’t try to make it materialize. He wasn’t exactly feeling like Don Juan, not after tonight. An event like that, it could put the shrinkage on a man’s equipment.

“See you later,” Kayla said.

“Sure.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“Not a problem.”

“I like your friend.”

“Tad. Yeah, he’s great.”

“Really, Harry. I know it must have been terrible for you.”

“You’re right. It was. But I hope I helped.”

“You did. I’m not sure where to go with it now, but you helped. Lots.”

“Yeah, well…” They were very near now to that kiss hanging in the air, but, alas, he hadn’t the will to try it. What if she said no? He wasn’t up to the disappointment right now.

“Good night, Kayla.”

“Good night, Harry.”

When Harry got home there was a light on the answering machine. The first message was from Tad.

“Kid. I know what you’re thinking. Don’t drink. I know, ’cause I’m thinking the same thing. You need me, call. I’ll come get you.”

Harry grinned, let the other messages come. There was one from his mother, one from Joey.

It was too late to call his mother, but he decided, what the hell, might as well get it over with, call Joey. Shit, I’m going forgive him, way I always do, and he’s going piss me off again. How it works.

When Joey answered, he sounded as if he were climbing out of a hole in the ground.

“Yeah.”

“It’s me, Harry.”

“Good. I was wondering…I mean, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Yes, you did. And you’ll be happy to know it didn’t work out, the thing with me and Talia. Oh, I was in the saddle for a while, but it’s all over now.”

“Well, you done pretty good then, considering who she is.”

“So you’re gonna sideways insult me, Joey?”

“Nope. I was wondering. Can we still be friends?”

“Sure. We’re always gonna be friends, it’s just I got to wonder why.”

“How about I drop by tomorrow night? We can have a beer.”

“I don’t drink anymore. Remember?”

“Not at all?”

“We did this last time, Joey. You’re already starting it again.”

“Sorry, man. That not-drinking business. How’s that working out for you?”

“Damn good.” Then, trying to change the subject: “Know who I saw tonight?”

“Who?”

“Kayla.”

“Our Kayla?”

“One and the same.”

“How’s she look?”

“Like a million bucks. She’s a cop in town. We visited.”

“She beat me up once.”

“I remember. It’s one of my fondest memories.”

“She could hit really hard.”

“I know. She beat me up too.”

“She used to really smell nice.”

“Still does.”

“Kayla. I’ll be damned.”

“Well, good night, Joey.”

“Good night, Harry…And hey…”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for calling. I’ve missed you.”

“Can’t say the same.”

Harry showered and went to bed, tried not to think about what he’d seen there in the garage, but every time he closed his eyes, the images came back.

He was glad when the phone rang. He didn’t check the caller ID. He thought it was Joey.

“Harry?”

“Kayla?”

“You know that wooden bear in my place?”

“Sure.”

“It’s named Harry.”