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“Of course not.”
She’d overdosed. Pills on top of the alcohol. Crazy. But the more Morgan thought about it, the more he wondered. He did feel pretty goddamn awful. Had she slipped him something? Last night was hazy at best, especially toward the end when they closed down the pool hall across from campus. Stix, it was called.
Oh, hell, if somebody saw me with her…
“Come on,” Jones said. “I’ve got some plastic. Let’s get her out of here.”
Morgan followed him into the bedroom.
Giant Bob turned A
Gi
“What’s she doing in here?” Morgan’s voice had climbed two octaves. Almighty God, Morgan realized, was finally getting him. An old man with reams of tattered poetry. A fearless reporter ready to expose his scandals. Plagues upon Egypt.
“We’ll handle that later,” Jones murmured in his ear.
Bob wrapped A
Gi
“Routine,” Bob said.
“Would you shut up,” Jones said. “This ain’t routine. We’ve never done this before.”
“Right, boss.”
Jones nudged Morgan with a pointy elbow. “Get her feet.”
“What?”
“I can’t carry her with my back. Grab the feet.”
Morgan took A
Morgan turned green as he listened. Sweat on his forehead.
“There’s two shovels in the backseat,” Jones said. “There’s a peach orchard six miles south of town. Take the dirt road and bury her in the middle.”
Morgan choked. “Me?”
“For chrissakes, Doc, I can’t be involved,” Jones said. “I’m in a very delicate situation. Besides, she’s your dead girl, not mine.”
“But-”
“You’d think you’d be grateful I was fixing this up for you.”
“But-”
“Make sure you ditch the car someplace out of the way when you’re done.”
“But-”
“And don’t worry.” Jones jerked a thumb at Gi
“No!” Morgan’s eyes bulged. “Let me worry about her.”
“Want to do it yourself, huh? Sure, put her in the same hole as the other one.” Jones slipped something cold and hard into Morgan’s hand.
Morgan looked. A little blue-metal revolver with a stubby barrel. “What the fuck’s this?” He’d wanted to sound tough and outraged, but it came out like a squeak.
“It’s a.38. You said you’d handle her.”
“Right.” Now wasn’t the time to argue. He’d take Gi
Maybe himself, but not her.
Morgan waved Gi
They were a mile from the peach orchard when Gi
“They wouldn’t give me back my tape recorder, but I have my notepad.”
“This will not be a newspaper story,” Morgan said. “You must know you can’t say anything about this to anyone ever.” And how do you shut up a chatty undergrad newspaper reporter? The old man’s revolver nudged cold against his thigh in his front pocket.
“I know. It wasn’t your fault, right? I mean, you’d be fucking ruined if they found out. I mean, with a student and everything. Not that I find it offensive, but a lot of the establishment types like to maintain this artificial hierarchy.”
“Right.”
“Besides, I figure if I help you, you might be able to help me, right?”
“Maybe.”
“I asked for this assignment specifically because I wanted to speak to you,” Gi
Maybe Morgan would shoot her after all.
He turned the Plymouth into the peach orchard. The narrow road petered out, and he found himself zigzagging among the trees. He parked in an arbitrary spot. He and Gi
Morgan began sweating again, rings under his armpits, stomach queasy. His hands ached with the cold, fingers rubbing raw on the shovel’s handle. He hadn’t done anything this physical in a long time. He stopped digging, leaned on the shovel. His chest heaved, short breaths puffing out like fog. “Okay, good enough.”
“That’s way too shallow,” Gi
“It’s fine.”
“I’m telling you it needs to be deeper. One good rain and up she comes. All that topsoil will wash right downhill.”
Morgan sighed. He looked at the shovel, back at the hole. They kept digging.
When Gi
But there would be questions. What had happened? Who had she been with and where? Morgan leaned on his shovel, eyes unfocused with thought.
Gi
And it was as if his hands lifted the shovel on their own, scooped the dirt. It was the heaviest thing in the world. He tossed in the dirt, and it landed on A
Soon there was only the moist mound of fresh soil. Gi
Morgan thought about Gi
Gi
“Just thinking.” He let go of the gun, put his hands on his hips.
She searched his eyes, moved toward him. “I’m not going to say anything.”
“I know.”
She stood very close to Morgan, her erect nipples brushing his belly. “I want you to believe me.”
“I believe you.”
Gi
She unzipped his pants and reached in for him. He stiffened, and she stroked him, the cold air washing over his groin.
Morgan cleared his throat. “I think we can work something out.”
Her hands were very soft, her mouth warm.