Page 19

We’ll Be Fine

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Larry slammed his trunk closed in the marina parking lot.

“Careful.”

Andre looked around at the other boaters unloading their supplies for a dinnertime cruise, or maybe even the weekend if they had a live-aboard. “We don’t want to attract attention.”

Larry scowled at him, but lowered his voice to hiss, “With all that’s going on, you think this is a good idea? When did you find out?”

He stood with his hands on his hips, his beer cooler and fishing gear at his feet.

Hank moved a few steps closer. “Pam asked me last night,”

he said, in a low voice. “Pick up your stuff.” He looked around, scanning the marina parking lot again, as had become his habit. “Seriously, let’s get to the boat. Andre’s right. We don’t want to attract attention. Pick up your stuff and let’s get to the boat.”

The men walked down the dock, Hank in the lead, careful not to hurry, looking straight ahead. He was afraid to glance over his shoulder lest he find Larry and Andre tiptoeing behind them like the Pink Panther cartoon character. Better not to see. Hank stepped over the gunwale and dropped his gear on the seat while he unlocked the cuddy cabin.

Larry caught up to him. “You could have said no.”

Hank lifted his head to face him. “Could I have? Larry? Really? If you could say no to Nancy, would you be wearing those shorts?”

Larry winced but didn’t look down at his pastel, quilted, patchwork-design Bermudas, embroidered with tiny whales, that Hank speculated Nancy had plucked out of a bargain bin, in probably some sadistic way to wreak revenge on her husband for whatever problems their marriage bore. Hank continued, “We have to look like everything’s normal. Marlene wants to scatter Dave’s ashes tonight, and nobody’s gonna say no to that. We’ll take the girls out, have a drink, dump Dave, and bring them back to the dock.”

Dave would have gotten a kick out of his remains being “dumped.”

Larry pointed his finger close to Hank’s chest. “I want to go on record that I think this is an egregious error in judgment.”

“Noted.”

There was no point in telling Larry he wasn’t about to say no to Pam about anything right now. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on with her anymore, but earlier in their kitchen she seemed to be giving him some kind of doomsday edict, when all he was wondering was why had she stopped keeping the limes in the fruit bowl. She had to know they weren’t as juicy when they were in the fridge. And then she’d gone on some philosophical rant about wishing with all her heart she had a choice. Fuck. Just put the limes in the fruit bowl, Pam. There’s your choice.

He turned back in time to hear Larry ask Andre, “Do you think we should all be together, right now? The three of us are fucking sitting ducks, and now our wives are fucking sitting ducks with us. When those hitmen get here, it’ll be like shooting fish in the fucking proverbial barrel. They’ll take us all out.”

He dropped into the cushioned captain’s chair like a deadweight, his neck craning this way and the other.

Hank grinned at him. “What are we, Larry? Ducks or fish? Make up your mind.”

Then he disappeared into the cabin.

Now Andre scanned the marina grounds. “Once we’re out on the water we’ll be fine.”

Hank stuck his head out the cabin door and held out a jar of roasted peanuts. “Snack?”

When Larry and Andre waved it off, Hank poured some into his palm and then popped them into his mouth. “I already told you,” he said, with his mouth full. “They’re not coming until tomorrow. We’ll be fine.”

“Like hitmen are reliable when it comes to scheduling. If they got an earlier flight they could come at us anytime.”

Larry picked up a pair of binoculars and turned them toward the parking lot. “And you told Hector, right? About these guys from India?”

Hank took another handful of peanuts and screwed the lid back on the jar. Now Larry was going to ride him. No, Hank hadn’t told Hector that, specifically. He didn’t want to get into it with Larry and Andre right now, but if he’d told Hector hitmen were coming from India, then Hector could make the connection to the casino. And then he could make the next connection—that there could be a lot of casino money floating around. Hank didn’t want Hector making those connections, so he’d been vague. Hector didn’t ask a lot of questions, and Hank liked that about him.

But Hank knew Larry and Andre wouldn’t like that answer.

So instead, Hank repeated what he’d told Larry the last time he asked. “I told Hector to kill anyone who’s after us. We don’t care who they are.”