Page 67

Jerry pulled into Cary’s shop sucking on a blunt that would have given Snoop Dog a boner. He’d had a helluva fight with Shane, getting him to stay back at the yard. The kid was crawling out of his skin with worry, nobody having heard a peep from Nick or Cary. But in the end he’d agreed that showing up at Cary’s sporting broken knuckles and carrying a pretty damn obvious torch for his sister wouldn’t do anybody any good.

He figured if anyone would know anything, it would be John.

There were tow trucks and trailers littered around the entrance to the property. On the outside, it looked like any other tow yard and diesel mechanic shop. Of course, the back section was holding more blow and various other illegal substances than a cartel safe house, but that was beside the point.

Jerry let himself inside and nodded at some of the guys, two working in pits under a tractor-trailer, the rest sitting around a grimy chrome-edged table from the seventies playing cards.

“Jerry!” John exclaimed, tossing down his cards and getting up from the table. “This is a nice surprise!”

“Brought coffee,” he grunted, holding up the drink carton stacked with Tim Horton’s cups. The guys grumbled in appreciation and came over, picking out their orders, sipping happily.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” John asked.

His voice was cheerful, friendly, pleasant as always. But Jerry could feel it, the undertone. He knew something had gone down, and he knew Jerry knew, too.

John looked like a Bible salesman, always dressed in khakis and button-down plaid t-shirts, with scuffed loafers and a Sunday school haircut. But anyone who let that fool them was a fool, themselves. Jerry had seen John cut off someone’s finger with a table saw, once, for having sticky fingers the backroom.

“Heard Cary’s back in town,” Jerry said casually, puffing on his blunt. “Wanted to say hi. Haven’t seen the kid since June.”

John’s eyes flashed. “Who told you Cary’s back?” he asked, his voice lowered so the other guys wouldn’t hear.

Jerry shrugged noncommittally, and John’s lips thinned.

“He got back yesterday. He’ll be around later, he’s… sorting some stuff out, right now.”

Jerry sucked on his blunt again, buying himself a moment. He was on dangerous ground, here, butting into Cary’s affairs. Jerry had always had a free pass to come and go as he pleased because he religiously minded his business and him and Cary had history. The coffees were fine, but the questions weren’t Jerry’s style and John knew it.

“I need to talk to him about Linette,” Jerry improvised. John’s eyebrows raised, clearly surprised, and Jerry relaxed his shoulders. “She been… worse. Worse than normal, this summer. I think she been takin’ the kids’ money more than usual. Phone been cut off a few times…”

This is good, Jerry thought. It explained the missed phone calls, and everyone knew Jerry treated the Hawtons like family. It wasn’t suspicious, him coming around asking after Linette. Unusual, maybe, but not suspicious.

“I don’t know if today’s the day, Jerry,” John said, rubbing his chin. “He’s in a mood.”

“That boy is always in a damn mood,” Jerry grumbled.

John sighed. “We’re having some problems. A bad batch. Cary went to talk to Nick last night, he handles the mix, you know? I trust him, Nick doesn’t like cutting at all never mind cutting bad, and he uses his own talc powder, some special mixture from God-knows-where…” John scratched his chin again. “This batch was cut with boric acid. And a lot of it. Few of the guys got sick, God knows what’s happening amongst the customers…”

Jerry had always found it strange that John referred to their burnout, doped-up client base as ‘customers’, but John also sold kitchen appliances so maybe it was just habit.

“I don’ think I know Nick,” Jerry said. “How long he been around?”

“Few years, I guess. He started as a runner but the guy’s got a nose for a good cut.” John laughed at his own pun, slapping his knee.

“You ever had any problems with him before?”

“No. Like I said, I trust him. But he wasn’t there when Cary got to his place, and you know how Cary is. God forbid you not be somewhere he wants you to be, whether he asked you to be there or not.”

Jerry dropped his blunt in the coffee dregs at the bottom of his Timmies cup.

“I’m sure you’ll sort it, then,” Jerry said blandly.

John hesitated, studying Jerry for a few minutes.

“There is one thing…” John said slowly. Jerry waited, trying to look disinterested. “I asked him to look in on Laney, few months back…”

“Hmm…” Jerry said.

“Nick’s been checking in on them, since then. Quite a lot.” A shadow passed over John’s face. “I been a bit worried. That he might’ve… I don’t know. Taken a liking to Laney, or something…”

“Well, it’s hard not to,” Jerry said.

“I know, I know. And I warned him off. I can’t see him being that stupid. But that girl is just like Linette.”

“She’s nothing like Linette.”

John rubbed his chin harder. “I know, she’s a sweet kid... Seems like she disinherited the crazy gene, at least. But she’s got that thing, that Hawton thing that Linette has. That Cary has. As if being drop-dead-gorgeous wasn’t bad enough, they charm your socks right off. Suck you in like a black hole. And I dunno if Nick has the wherewithal to resist. Them Hawton women are like gravity. There’s no fightin’ ‘em.”

“Does Cary suspect anything?” Jerry asked.

“Oh hell no!” John scoffed. “Are you insane? I don’t need to be cleaning body parts off this floor again.”

“He done anything? Said anything?”

“No, nothing,” John said. “But… it’s just a feeling. Nick don’t seem too interested in the girls around here anymore. And it’s not for a lack of options. He’s a decent enough looking guy, young, in Cary’s good graces… The girls like him. And he always had his arm around somebody. Till now.”

“You haven’t said anything to him about it? Brought it up?”

“I thought about it, Jerry. I did. But then I remembered that boy of yours, the handsome fucker who always looks like he’s about to swallow a bullet?”

Jerry chortled. Shane sure had mastered the ‘dour’ look. “Shane? What about him?”

John laughed. “Don’t play dumb, Jerry. It doesn’t suit you. I’ve never seen a man look at a woman the way he looks at Laney. We all know you moved him in with you to keep peace with him and Cary.”

Jerry grunted, afraid words would give him away.

“Shane might not be sleeping there, but there ain’t no way he’s not keeping an eye on that girl. I figured if Nick made a move, he’d cheerfully grind his bones for his bread. Maybe bake us all a cake.”

Jerry forced a laugh, but his nerves were fraying. You got no idea, John.

“Alright, well I’ll come back a little later I guess, really do need to speak with Cary. Hope you sort out this here problem,” he said, waving in the general direction of the backroom.

John sniffed. “Me too. Hate to see good product go to waste.”

“Ain’t that the truth…” Jerry muttered. He didn’t dabble in white anymore, but John was a machine. They called him the Cookie Monster behind his back.

“Good of you to stop by, Jerry,” John said, clapping him on the back again. “Glad somebody’s watching out for those kids. I worry about them… But I mean, what can any of us do?”

I don’t know, Jerry thought, but more than this.