John Locke - Wish List

“Which is how you found Robby in the first place.”

“That’s right. And a couple of days ago your friend, Richie, got the call.”

“What call?”

“To kill Sally and Tom.”

“What?”

“But he refused. So tonight we wanted to show him what happens when you refuse to pay back a wish.”

What bothers me about what I’m learning is that there’s a sort of logical pattern to the whole wish-granting and payback system. But some things aren’t as easy to follow. “You told Richie to kill Tom and Sally before telling them about Tracy.”

“Robbie Billups was dead, so we couldn’t grant Tom and Sally’s wish. So we decided to kill them, so Margot could get her wish. We gave the call to Richie. When he refused, we thought, why not grant both wishes? We’ll tell Tom and Sally that Richie killed Tracy. By cutting off his dick and hanging him, they’d get two of their wishes. When we kill Tom and Sally, Margot gets one of her wishes.”

My brain was fighting to keep up. I should have been horrified, but I was determined to comprehend the logic. I said, “And if Richie had died tonight?”

“You’d have gotten the call to kill Tom and Sally.”

From my vantage point I could only see Richie’s side and back. But I’d seen enough tonight to know he’d never be the same. “You’ll let Richie go now, right?”

“He’ll get the opportunity to kill Sally and Tom again, if that’s what you mean.”

“And after that, he still owes a fourth payment?”

“That’s right. If he lives to do it, he’ll be part of a group repayment.”

“What does that mean?”

“When a number of people wish for the same thing, we lump them together, if possible. If twenty people want front row seats to a concert tonight, we’d fulfill twenty wishes in one shot.”

“But that would be a group wish, not a repayment.”

“True. Group repayments aren’t as much fun as attending a concert.”

“Tonight I’ve completed my first repayment,” I say.

“Actually, you’ve made two. You just don’t know it yet.”

“What’s the other one?”

“We’ll let you know when the time is right.”

“You made a video of us burying Oglethorpe. Why?”

“My boss likes to watch.”

“Who’s your boss?”

“Not your concern. But the video will also help prevent you from going to the cops.”

“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.”