1

Alice must have been waiting just inside the door of her room, because when Billy knocks she opens up at once. And hugs him. He’s startled for a moment and starts to pull away, but when he sees the hurt look on her face he hugs her back. Other than meaningless bro-hugs from people like Nick and Giorgio, he hasn’t had a real hug in a long time. Then he realizes that’s not true, he got hugs from Shanice Ackerman. They were good and this one is, too.

They go inside. He told her he was okay when he called from the car after leaving Landview Estates, but she asks again now and he tells her again that he is.

‘And you … dealt with them?’

‘Yes.’

‘All three of them?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do I want to know how?’

‘None of them is going to need a hospital visit but all of them paid a price. Let’s leave it at that.’

‘Fine, but can I ask a question I asked before?’

Billy says she can.

‘Did you do it for me or your sister?’

He thinks it over and says, ‘I think both.’

She gives a case-closed nod. ‘That wig looks like a hurricane blew through it. Do you have a comb?’

He does, in his shaving bag. Alice tents the wig over her spread fingers and starts combing it out in brisk strokes. ‘Are we staying here tonight?’

Billy has thought about this on the short drive back. ‘I think we should. I don’t believe we have to worry about the Three Stooges calling the cops.’ He’s thinking of the pictures on his phone. ‘And it’s getting late.’

She stops combing and looks at him dead-on. ‘Take me with you when you go. Please.’ She mistakes his silence for reluctance. ‘There’s nothing for me here. I can’t go back to business school and serving cappuccinos. I can’t go home, either. I won’t. Not after all this. I need to get out of this town. I need to start over. Please, Dalton. Please.’

‘All right. But there’s going to be a point where we go our separate ways. You understand that, right?’

‘Yes.’ She holds out the wig. ‘Better?’

‘It is. And my friends call me Billy. Okay?’

She smiles. ‘Okay.’

2

There’s a Slim Chickens a quarter mile down the service road. Billy drives through and brings back food and shakes. The way she keeps her eyes on her chicken-and-bacon sandwich, planning the next bite even while she’s chewing the one in her mouth, pleases him. He has no idea why, but it does. They watch the local news. There’s just one item about the courthouse assassination. It’s nothing new, just a two-minute filler piece before the weather. The world is moving on.

‘Are you going to be okay tonight?’

‘Yes.’ She steals one of his fries, as if that proves it.

‘If you start getting short of breath—’

‘“Teddy Bears’ Picnic,” I know.’

‘And if that doesn’t work, knock on the wall. I’ll come.’

‘Okay.’

He gets up and tosses his trash. ‘Then I’ll say goodnight. There’s some stuff I have to do.’

‘Are you going to work on your story?’

Billy shakes his head. ‘Other stuff.’

Alice looks troubled. ‘Billy … you wouldn’t run out on me in the middle of the night, would you?’

This is such a perfect turnaround that he has to laugh. ‘No, I’m not going to do that.’

‘Promise.’

He crooks his little finger as he sometimes did with Shan and often did with Cathy. ‘Pinky-swear.’

She crooks her own, smiling, and they link up.

‘Go to bed early because we’re going to leave early. Long drive.’

All he has to do now is find out where they’re going.

3

In his room on the other side of the wall, he texts Bucky Hanson.

Can I come to where you are? Actually it’s we, I have someone with me. She’s safe but going to need new ID. Not staying long. When I get the balance of what’s owed to me, you’ll get what I promised.

He sends and waits. He and Bucky go back almost to the beginning. Billy trusts him completely and thinks Bucky trusts him. Also, a million dollars is a lot of cheese.

Five minutes later his phone bings.

SCOTS live show Skipper’s Smokehouse 2007 69 El Camino YT. Delete and DTA.

They haven’t communicated like this in several years, but Billy remembers what DTA means: Don’t text again. For Bucky to go to such lengths means he’s being very, very cautious. He may have heard something. If so, it was nothing good.

Billy also knows SCOTS. It stands for Southern Culture on the Skids, Bucky’s favorite band. ‘’69 El Camino’ is one of their songs. Billy goes to YouTube and types out SCOTS live at Skipper’s Smokehouse. Southern Culture on the Skids must have played that particular venue a lot over the years because there are over forty vids of various songs. Five of them are of ‘’69 El Camino,’ but there’s only one from 2007. Billy selects it but doesn’t hit play. It’s smeary cell phone video, the sound will suck, and it’s not music he came for.

It’s had a little over four thousand views and hundreds of people have left comments. Billy scrolls down to the last one, which is tagged Hanson 199. It was posted two minutes ago.

Great tune, the comment reads. Saw them play a kick-ass 10-minute version at Edgewood Saloon in Sidewinder.

Billy adds his own post, tagging himself Taco04. It’s brief. Hope to see them soon!

He deletes his text to Bucky and Bucky’s reply about the SCOTS video, then goes to Google. There’s only one town named Sidewinder in the continental United States. It’s in Colorado. There’s no Edgewood Saloon, but there is a thoroughfare called Edgewood Mountain Drive.

He texts Alice: Leaving at 5 AM, OK?

The reply – roger – comes back immediately.

Billy downloads an app to one of the AllTech laptops. It takes awhile because the Penny Pines WiFi is weak as shit. When the download is complete he reads for an hour, then takes a long hot shower. He sets the alarm on his phone before going to bed even though he knows he won’t need it. He dreams of Lalafallujah. No surprise there.

4

It’s still dark when they stow their few belongings in the back seat of the Fusion. Billy sets one of the cheap AllTechs on the console between the front seats and plugs it into the power outlet. ‘I knew one of these cheapies would come in handy sooner or later.’

‘Did you really?’ Alice looks still half-asleep.

‘Nope, but sometimes you get lucky.’

While she fastens the seatbelt, Billy opens the app he downloaded last night. There’s a shrill sound, like an old-fashioned modem connecting. He squelches the volume.

‘What’s that for?’

Billy bends over and points to an unobtrusive panel down low and to the left of the glove compartment. ‘That’s the OBD. On-board diagnostic. It does all sorts of things, and because this is a lease car, one of the things it does is pinpoint our location if anyone at the dealership wants to check. Which they would as soon as we cross the state line, because it’s programmed to send a notification. The app is a jammer. If anyone checks, they’ll think the OBD is on the fritz.’

‘You hope they’ll think that.’

‘Confidence is high,’ Billy says. ‘You ready? Don’t want to dummy-check the room?’

‘I’m ready.’ She’s wide awake now. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Colorado.’

‘Colorado, my God.’ She sounds very young. ‘How far?’

‘Over a thousand miles. Two-day drive.’

She smiles. ‘Then we better get going.’

Billy says ‘Roger that,’ and drops the Fusion’s transmission in drive. Five minutes later they’re on the turnpike and headed west.

5

They stop for gas and food in Muskogee, the town made famous by Merle Haggard. Alice has been busy on the AllTech, and directs Billy to the Arrowhead Mall. When they get there, she points out a building with bright orange awnings.

‘What’s Ulta?’ Billy asks.

‘Makeup store. You go in. I don’t want to with my face looking like this.’

Billy can’t blame her. She’s young, she’s healthy, and the bruises have started to fade, but it’s still pretty clear that someone tuned up on her in the recent past. She tells him what to get and he gets it. The basic product is called Dermablend Cover Creme. It’s less expensive than the morning-after pill, but once he adds in the brush and the setting powder, he’s closing in on eighty bucks.

‘You’re an expensive date,’ he says when he gives her the bag.

‘Wait ’til you see the results.’

She sounds pert. Billy likes that. She has come a long way back from the girl who couldn’t bear to look at herself in the mirror … but not all the way back. She falls asleep that afternoon as they continue to drive northwest, and after an hour or so he hears her moaning. She puts out her hands in a warding-off gesture. One of them strikes the dashboard and she wakes up with a gasp. Then another. And a third, this time with her hand on her throat.

‘“Teddy Bears’ Picnic,” stat!’ Billy says. He’s already slowing, moving over into the breakdown lane.

‘I’m okay, keep going. I’m all right now. Bad dream is all.’

‘What was it?’ Billy asks, turning off his blinker and swerving the Fusion back into the travel lane.

‘I don’t remember.’

She’s lying, but that’s okay.

6

They stop for the night in the little town of Protection, Kansas, because it’s almost halfway to where they’re going but also because they both like the idea of staying at a place called the Protection Motel. This time Alice goes in with him when he registers, and the guy at the desk barely gives her a glance. A woman might have, Billy thinks. The makeup is good and she applied it skillfully, but it’s not quite perfect. He asks if she wants him to get takeout and Alice shakes her head. She’s ready to go public, and that’s also good. They eat at Don’s Place, which is just about the only place in Protection when it comes to food. The menu consists mostly of burgers and corn dogs.

‘This guy we’re going to see,’ Alice says. ‘What’s he like?’

‘Bucky’s sixty-five or seventy now. Skinny as hell. Ex-Marine. Pretty much lives on beer, cigarettes, Slim Jims, and rock and roll. He’s good with computers, he has a lot of contacts, and he helps put strings together.’

‘Strings?’

‘Pro stickup guys. Not kids, not junkies, not trigger-happy hot-heads. He’s part agent, part talent scout.’

‘For the underworld.’

Billy smiles. ‘I don’t know if there’s really an underworld anymore. I think the Computer Age pretty much killed it.’

‘And he finds jobs for people like you.’ She lowers her voice. ‘Hired killers.’

So far as Billy knows, he’s the only hired killer Bucky does business with, but he doesn’t disagree. How could he when it’s true? He could tell her again that he only kills people who deserve to be killed, but why bother? Either she believes it or she doesn’t. In any case it’s a moot point. He can’t change his past but he means to change his future. He also intends to have his payday. He earned it.

‘Bucky will have ID for you, I think. It’s one of the things he does. You can be a new person. If you want to.’

‘I do.’ She doesn’t pause to think about it. ‘Although at some point I suppose I’ll want to call my mother again.’ She gives a little laugh and a small shake of the head. ‘You know, I can’t remember the last time she called me. I really can’t.’

‘But you did talk to her?’

‘Yes. While you were … um, visiting Tripp and his roommates.’

‘You didn’t really tell her you were going to Cancun, did you?’

She smiles. ‘I was tempted, but no. I said I had a boyfriend, and we broke up when I quit school, and I needed some time to think about what comes next.’

‘She was okay with that?’

‘It’s been a long time since she was okay with anything I do. Can we talk about something else, please?’

7

The next day is nothing but driving, most of it on I-70. Alice, still recovering from physical and mental trauma, sleeps a lot. Billy thinks about the Fallujah part of his story, which is now stored on a thumb drive in his computer bag. That leads him to Albie Stark, who used to talk about getting his Harley out of storage when he got home and taking a road trip from New York to San Francisco. None of that blue highways shit, either, he said. I be turnpikin’ the whole way. Crank it up to eighty and pull the knobs off. Albie never had a chance to do that. Albie died behind a rusty old Fallujah taxi and his last words were It’s nothing, just clipped me. Only then he started gasping, the way Alice did when she had her panic attacks, and he never got a chance to sing even the first line of ‘Teddy Bears’ Picnic.’

They stop for gas and food in the little town of Quinter, Kansas. It’s a Waffle Delite and when they get out of the Fusion and approach, they see a couple of state cops sitting at the counter. Alice hesitates, but Billy keeps going and it turns out fine. The cops hardly give them a glance.

‘If you act right, most times they don’t even notice you,’ Billy says as they walk back to the car.

‘Most times?’

Billy shrugs. ‘Anything can happen to anybody. You play the odds and hope for the best.’

‘You’re a fatalist.’

Billy laughs. ‘I’m a realist.’

‘Is there a difference?’

He stops with his hand on the Fusion’s doorhandle and looks at her. She has a way of surprising him.

‘You’re maybe too smart for business school,’ he says. ‘I think you could do better.’

8

Alice sleeps again, full of waffles and bacon. Billy glances at her from time to time. He likes her looks more and more. He likes who she is. To just slam the door on one life and open the door on a new one? How many people would do that even if they got the chance?

Around four o’clock she wakes up, stretches, then gasps. She’s looking through the windshield with wide eyes. ‘My sainted hat!’

Billy laughs. ‘Never heard that one before.’

‘It’s the Rockies! Oh my God, look at them!’

‘They’re something, all right.’

‘I’ve seen pictures, but it’s not the same. I mean, they just start.’

It’s true. They have driven through hundreds of miles of flatlands and then all at once there they are.

‘I thought we might get to Bucky’s today, and I guess we still could, but I don’t want to drive Route 19 into the mountains after dark. It’s probably twisty.’ What he doesn’t tell her is that he wouldn’t want Bucky seeing headlights pulling into his driveway between ten and midnight. Not after Bucky was so careful about giving out his location. ‘See if you can find us an off-brand motel east of Denver.’

She uses his Dalton phone with the dexterity of the very young. ‘There’s a place called the Pronghorn Motor Rest. That sound off-brand enough for you?’

‘It does. How far?’

‘Looks like about thirty miles.’ She does some more typing and swiping. ‘It’s in a town called Byers. They have a turkey shoot with a big dance after, but it’s not until November. Guess we’ll miss it.’

‘Too bad.’

‘Well,’ she says, ‘shit happens. Life is a party, and parties weren’t meant to last.’

He looks sideways at her, a little startled. ‘Is that F. Scott Fitzgerald?’

‘Prince,’ she says. ‘I can’t get over how gorgeous those mountains are. When the sun goes down I don’t think I’ll look. My heart might break. And the only reason I’m here is because those men raped me and threw me out in the rain. I guess everything happens for a reason.’

Billy has heard the saying many times before and it always makes him mad. ‘I don’t believe that. I won’t believe that.’

‘Okay. I’m sorry.’ She sounds a little scared. ‘I didn’t mean to—’

‘Believing that would mean believing that someone or something up the line was more important than my sister. Same with Albie Stark. Taco. Johnny Capps, who’ll never walk again. There’s nothing reasonable about any of that.’

She doesn’t answer. When he looks at her she’s looking down at her tightly clasped hands and there are tears on her cheeks.

‘Jesus, Alice, I didn’t mean to make you cry.’

‘You didn’t,’ she says, brushing away the evidence on her cheeks.

‘It’s just that if there’s a God, he’s doing a piss poor job.’

Alice points ahead, at the blue teeth of the Rockies. ‘If there’s a God, He made those.’

Well, Billy thinks, girl’s got a point.

9

There’s no problem getting adjoining rooms at the Pronghorn Motor Rest; based on the number of cars in the parking lot, Billy thinks they could’ve had every room on the hallway to themselves. They eat at a nearby Burger Barn. Back at the motel, Billy plugs in the thumb drive with his story on it. He opens the document and goes to where he left off: Taco handing Fareed their GOOD MORNING VIETNAM bullhorn. Then he closes it again. He’s not afraid to write about what happened in the Funhouse, exactly, but he doesn’t want to do it in installments, either. He wants to be in a quiet place where he can pour it out like poison from a bottle. He doesn’t think it will take long, but those hours will be intense.

He goes to the window and looks out. There are a couple of cheap lawn chairs in front of each unit. Alice is sitting in one of them, staring up at the stars. He looks at her looking for a long time. He doesn’t need a psychiatrist to tell him what she means to him; she’s a version of Cathy only grown up. A psychiatrist might try to argue that she is also Robin Maguire, aka Ronnie Givens, from the House of Everlasting Paint, but that wouldn’t be true because he wanted to fuck Robin, many was the night he jacked off to that fond fantasy, and he doesn’t want to fuck Alice. He cares for her, and that means more than fucking.

Is caring for her dangerous? Of course it is. Is the way Alice has come to care for him – to trust him, to depend on him – equally as dangerous? Of course it is. But to see her sitting there and looking up at the stars, that means something. It might not if things go wrong, but right now it does. He gave her the mountains and the stars, not to own but at least to look at, and that means a lot.

10

They get an early start and are skirting Denver at eight in the morning. It’s flat. They drive through Boulder at quarter of nine. Also flat. Then boom, they’re in the mountains. The road is every bit as twisty as Billy thought it would be. Alice sits up straight, her head on a swivel, her eyes wide as she looks from deep gorges on her right to the steep wooded upslopes on her left. Billy gets it. She’s a New England girl who’s made one short and ultimately unpleasant side trip to the mid-South and this is all new to her, all amazing. He will never believe she had to get raped in order to be here in the Rocky Mountain foothills, but he’s glad she can be. He likes her amazement. No, loves it.

‘I could live here,’ she says.

They drive through Nederland, a little town that seems to be a mere adjunct to the sprawling shopping center on the outskirts. The parking lot is jammed. Billy, who can believe almost anything, would be hard-pressed to believe that in the early spring of the following year that parking lot will be almost deserted on a business day, with most of the stores closed.

‘I need to go in there,’ Alice says, and points. There are spots of color in her cheeks. ‘To the drugstore.’

He pulls in and finds a parking space. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘No, but I’m going to have a visit from my friend. It’s two weeks early, but I can feel it coming. Cramps.’

He remembers the flier that came with the morning-after pill. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to—’

‘No, I’ll do it. I won’t be long. God, I hope I don’t make a mess in these pants.’

‘If you do, we’ll buy—’ Some new ones is how he means to finish, but she’s already out of the car and hurrying toward the Walgreens, almost running. She comes back a few minutes later with a bag.

He asks if she’s okay. She tells him, almost curtly, that she’s fine. Outside of town they come to a scenic turnout and she asks him to stop and park away from the few other cars. Then she asks him to look the other way. He does so and sees a hang-gliding fool soaring over a ravine as deep as a stab wound. From this distance the guy hardly appears to be moving. He hears her shifting around, her zipper going down, the rattle of the bag, more rattling as she strips the paper from what she needs – a pad he assumes, she wouldn’t want to try a tampon, not yet – and then her zipper again.

‘You can look now.’

‘No, you look,’ Billy says, and points out the hang-glider. The guy is wearing a bright red singlet and a yellow helmet which will do exactly jack shit if he crashes into the side of the mountain.

‘Oh … my … God!’ Alice is shading her eyes.

‘Not to mention your sainted hat.’

Alice grins. A real grin. Very good to see. She repeats, ‘I could live here.’

‘And do that?’ Billy points.

‘Maybe not that.’ She pauses, thinking it over. ‘But maybe.’

‘Ready to roll? You all high and tight?’

‘Roger that,’ Alice replies, smart as you please.

11

Billy is glad he decided not to drive on through yesterday, because it takes them another two hours to reach Sidewinder. There’s no shopping center here, just a one-street downtown crammed with souvenir shops, restaurants, clothing stores featuring western apparel, and bars. Plenty of those, with names like Rough Rider Saloon, Boots ’N Spurs, Homestead, and 187. There’s no Edgewood Saloon, but Billy didn’t expect one.

‘Funny name for a bar,’ Alice says, pointing to 187.

‘It is,’ Billy agrees, but based on the rank of motorcycles parked out front, he doesn’t think the name is funny at all. 187 is the California Penal Code designation for murder.

Alice is using his phone to navigate because the Fusion’s GPS is jammed along with the locator. ‘Another mile, maybe a little more. On the left.’

A mile takes them out of town. Billy slows and sees the sign for Edgewood Mountain Drive. He makes the turn. They pass nice-looking homes and Swiss-style chalets set back from the street, many with their driveways chained off because ski season is still six weeks away. Beyond 108 Edgewood, the paving ends. The previously smooth road becomes first bouncy and then downright jouncy. Billy negotiates a tight S-curve and bulls the Fusion over a washed-out culvert. This time the car bounces so hard their seatbelts lock.

‘Are you sure this is right?’ Alice asks.

‘It’s right. We’re looking for 199.’

She consults the phone. ‘This says there’s no such number.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

Half a mile further on, the dirt runs out and they find themselves on a grassy track with wildflowers growing on the hump between the ruts. Billy thinks it might be the remains of an old logging road. The trees crowd in. Branches whip the Fusion’s sides. The track goes steeper. Billy steers his way around protruding rocks left over from the last ice age. Alice looks increasingly uneasy.

‘If this just ends, you’re going to have to back up for two miles, because there’s no place to—’

Billy hauls the Fusion around the tightest curve yet, and the road does end. Dead ahead is a log house jutting its long length over a steep slope, supported by posts that look like cut-off telephone poles. A Jeep Cherokee is parked underneath an open porch. Billy can hear a generator somewhere out back, the sound low but strong and steady.

Billy and Alice get out and look up at the porch, shading their eyes. Bucky Hanson rises from the rocking chair he’s been sitting in and comes to the shakepole railing. He’s wearing a New York Rangers gimme cap and smoking a cigarette.

‘Yo, Billy. I thought you got lost.’

‘She did, too. Bucky, this is Alice Maxwell.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alice. And Billy, look at you. How long has it been since we were face to face?’

‘Got to be four years at least,’ Billy says. ‘Maybe five.’

‘Well, come on up. Steps are on the side. Are you hungry?’

12

Billy was afraid his long-time fixer and agent might resent him bringing a stranger to this place, which is pretty clearly an emergency bolthole, but Bucky treats Alice kindly. He doesn’t come right out and say that any friend of Billy’s, etc., but he makes it clear, and after her initial shyness (or maybe it’s wariness), she relaxes. Still, she’s careful to stay near Billy.

The kitchen is neat, roomy, sunshiny. Bucky heats up macaroni and cheese in the microwave. ‘I’d love to make you huevos rancheros, I’m not half-bad at it, but I’m still not completely situated here. Need to finish getting supplied. Then I’ll just hunker down until this business comes to a conclusion. A happy one would be nice.’

‘I got you into a mess and I’m sorry,’ Billy says.

Bucky flaps a hand at him. ‘I brokered the deal and knew the risks.’ He sets a steaming bowl before each of them. ‘What about you, Alice? How’d you meet this vet of Georgie Bush’s war?’

Alice looks down at her mac and cheese as if she finds it especially fascinating. Her cheeks turn pink. ‘I guess you could say he picked me up off the street.’

‘Is that so? Huh. Has he shown you his stupid act yet? That is something to see. Give it to her, Billy.’

Billy doesn’t want to, Alice is different from mugs like Nick and Giorgio, but Bucky has given them a place to stay for awhile and he doesn’t want to refuse such a simple request. Only he doesn’t have to do it.

‘I’ve seen it already.’ Alice pauses, then adds, ‘In a manner of speaking.’

She gives Billy a look before addressing her food again, just a quick one, but it’s enough to make him feel sure she’s talking about the first part of his story. The part he wrote knowing Nick or Giorgio was probably reading over his shoulder.

‘Great, isn’t it?’ Bucky says, fetching his own bowl and sitting down. ‘Billy reads all the hard books, but he can also tell you every kid at Riverdale High and how Batman got his cape.’

Billy thinks what the hell, a little won’t hurt. He makes his eyes big and slows his speech. ‘I actually don’t know that part.’

Bucky laughs and points his fork, a macaroni noodle still caught on one of the tines, at Billy. ‘Man, you haven’t lost a step.’

He turns to Alice.

‘Just picked you up off the street, huh? What’s that mean exactly?’

‘That he saved my life.’

Bucky raises his eyebrows. ‘Did he now? I want to hear all about it. In fact I want to hear everything. Especially what went wrong.’

Billy considers this carefully. ‘Everything but Alice,’ he says, and starts laughing. He can’t help it.

13

He again starts with Frank Macintosh and Paulie Logan picking him up at the hotel and goes through it to the end, skimping only on the last part, just saying some guys roughed Alice up and he took care of them.

Bucky doesn’t ask how. He only collects their dishes, takes them over to the sink, and starts running hot water. The little house at the ass end of Edgewood Mountain Drive has a microwave and a satellite dish on the roof, but there’s no dishwasher.

‘I’ll do those,’ Alice says, getting up.

‘No you won’t,’ Bucky says. ‘There’s only a few and I’ll leave the casserole dish to soak. That baked-on cheese is a bitch. Billy, how long do you want to stay? I only ask because if you’re gonna be here long, I’ll have to make a run to King Soopers.’

‘I don’t know, but I’m happy to get the groceries.’

‘I’ll go, too,’ Alice says. ‘Just give me a list.’ She looks in the fridge. ‘You need some vegetables.’

Bucky ignores that. From the sink, back turned, he says, ‘They’re after you, Billy. Not just Nick’s organization, four other brands of competition plus God knows how many independents. One of those occasions, rare but not unheard-of, where everybody’s on the same page. You’re a big topic of conversation in certain chat rooms where you’re referred to as Mr Summerlock.’

‘As in Billy Summers and David Lockridge,’ Billy says.

‘Right.’

‘Is anybody chatting about Dalton Smith?’ Please God no, he thinks.

‘So far as I know Dalton Smith is still good, but these guys have access to all the best investigative agencies, outfits that make the FBI look like rubes, and if you left any loose ends, any at all, Dalton Smith is a goner.’

Bucky turns from the sink, and as he wipes his reddened hands on a dish towel, he looks directly at Alice. He doesn’t have to say anything to make his point.

Billy says, ‘She’s not a loose end. When I leave here, she goes her own way as someone else. If you can put together the documentation, that is.’

‘Oh, I can do that. Did one thing already. There’s nothing like the Internet when it’s hooked up to state-of-the-art equipment.’ He comes back to the table and sits down. ‘How do you feel about being Elizabeth Anderson?’

Alice looks startled, then gives a tentative smile. ‘Fine, I guess. I don’t get to pick my own name?’

‘It’s better that you don’t. Too easy to pick one that links to your past. I didn’t pick it, either. Computer did. A site called Name Generator.’ He looks at Billy. ‘If you trust her, that’s good enough. What about these Jensens? Or the real estate guy? They have any idea you were someone other than Dalton Smith?’

Billy shakes his head.

‘So you’re clean and that’s good, because there’s a bounty on your head.’

‘How much?’

‘Chat rooms say six million dollars.’

Billy gapes. ‘Are you shitting me? Why? They were only paying me two to do the job in the first place!’

‘I don’t know.’

Alice is turning her head from one to the other as if watching a tennis match.

Bucky says, ‘Nick’s handling the contract, but I don’t think it’s his money any more than the money you were promised was his.’

Billy props his elbows on the table and his loosely closed fists on the sides of his face. ‘Who pays six million dollars to kill a shooter who shot another shooter?’

Bucky laughs. ‘Save that one. It’s right up there with she sells seashells down by the seashore.’

‘Who? And why? Joel Allen was nobody, as far as I can tell.’

Bucky shakes his head. ‘Don’t know. But I bet Nick Majarian does. Maybe you’ll get a chance to ask him.’

‘Who’s Nick Majarian?’ Alice asks.

Billy sighs. ‘Benjy Compson. The guy who got me into this mess.’

Which is sort of a lie. He got into it all by himself.

14

In the end, Billy decides he and Alice will stay with Bucky for three days, maybe four. He wants to finish writing about the Funhouse. That won’t take long, but he also needs time to think about his next move. Does he need another long gun, scope-equipped, to go with the Ruger? He doesn’t know. Does he need another handgun, maybe a Glock that holds seventeen rounds instead of a measly six? He doesn’t know. But a potato-buster for the Ruger might come in handy, little as he likes them. Would he have occasion to use such a thing? He doesn’t know that either, but Bucky tells him that a jam-and-lock silencer for the GP should be no problem. If, that is, he doesn’t mind something homemade that might break apart after a few shots were fired through it. Bucky says in the high country all sorts of accessories are available.

‘I could get you an M249, if you wanted. I’d have to ask around, but I know some people to ask. Safe people who can keep their mouths shut.’

A SAW, in other words. Billy has a brief but brilliant memory of Big Joe Kleczewski standing outside the Funhouse with that very same gun. He shakes his head. ‘Let’s stick with the silencer for now.’

‘Silencer for a Ruger GP, got it.’

Alice will have her paperwork in three days as well, but when she and Billy go for groceries in Sidewinder, Bucky wants her to pick up some hair dye. ‘I think you should go blonde for your driver’s license. But leave the eyebrows dark. That would be a good look for you.’

‘You think?’ She sounds doubtful but looks interested.

‘I do. You were in business school, so I’ll give you some background to go with that. Can you take shorthand?’

‘Yes. I took a summer course in Rhode Island and picked it up fairly fast.’

‘And you can answer a phone? “Dignam Chevrolet, how may I direct your call?”’

Alice rolls her eyes.

‘Okay, entry-level skills at least, and the way the economy is roaring, that should be enough. Add nice clothes, good shoes, and a cheery smile and there’s no reason why Beth Anderson can’t find her niche.’

But Bucky doesn’t like it. Alice doesn’t pick up on it, but Billy does. He just doesn’t know why.

15

They go for groceries, Billy wearing his wig and a pair of dark glasses Bucky finds for him in the clutter of stuff – what he calls Irish luggage – he hasn’t unpacked yet. At King Soopers Billy pays cash. They go back up Edgewood Mountain Drive, the Fusion thudding and bumping and forging grumpily ahead over the last two miles.

Alice helps Bucky put the things away. He looks at the plantains she purchased doubtfully but says nothing. When that chore is done, she says she’s tired of being cooped up and asks if it would be okay for her to take a walk. Bucky tells her that if she goes out the back door, she’ll find a path into the woods. ‘Steep slope, but you look young and strong. Might want to put on some bug dope. Check the bathroom.’

Alice comes back with her sleeves rolled up trucker style, slathering on Cutter. Her cheeks are shiny with it.

‘Don’t mind the wolves,’ Bucky says. Then, seeing her alarmed expression: ‘Kidding, kiddo. The oldtimers say there haven’t been wolves around here since the 1950s. All hunted out. Bears, too. But if you can make it a mile, you’re going to come to one hell of a view. You can look across I don’t know how many miles of gulch and ravine to a big old flat clearing on the other side. Used to be a resort hotel there, but it burned flat many a moon ago.’ He drops his voice. ‘It was reputed to be haunted.’

‘Watch your step,’ Billy says. ‘You don’t want to break an ankle.’

‘I’ll be careful.’

When she’s gone, Bucky turns to Billy with a smile. ‘“Watch your step, you don’t want to break an ankle.” What are you, her daddy? God knows you’re old enough to be.’

‘Don’t get Freudian. She’s just my friend. I couldn’t tell you exactly how that happened, but it did.’

‘You said they roughed her up. Does that mean what I think it does?’

‘Yes.’

‘All of them?’

‘Two out of three. One of them just jizzed on her belly. That’s what he said, anyway.’

‘Jesus Christ, she seems so … you know, okay.’

‘She’s not.’

‘No. Of course she’s not. Probably never will be, not completely.’

Billy thinks that, like too many depressing ideas, it’s probably true.

Bucky gets two beers and they go out on the front porch. Billy has parked the Fusion beneath, nose-to-nose with the Cherokee.

‘She seems to be coping, at least,’ Bucky says when he’s resumed his rocking chair. Billy has taken another one. ‘Got some guts.’

Billy nods. ‘She does.’

‘And she can read a room, as they say. Maybe she did want to go strolling, but she mostly left so we could talk.’

‘You think?’

‘I do. She can have the spare room while you stay here. A bunch of my stuff’s in it now, but I’ll clear it out. The bed’s stripped and I don’t know if there’s sheets, but I saw a couple of blankets on the shelf in the closet. That’ll do for three or four nights. Since you’re not sleeping with her, you get the attic. Most times of year you’d freeze or boil up there, but right now it should be just about perfect. I’ve got a sleeping bag somewhere. Maybe still in the back of the Cherokee.’

‘Sounds good. Thanks.’

‘Least I can do for a guy who’s promising me a million dollars. Unless you’ve changed your mind about that.’

‘I haven’t.’ Billy gives Bucky a sideways look. ‘You don’t think I’ll get it.’

‘You might.’ Bucky pulls a pack of Pall Mall straights out of his shirt pocket – Billy didn’t know they still made those – and offers it to Billy, who shakes his head. Bucky lights his smoke with an old Zippo, the Marine emblem and Semper Fi embossed on the side. ‘I learned a long time ago not to sell you short, William.’

They sit for awhile without talking, two men in porch rockers. Billy thought Pearson Street was quiet, but this place makes Pearson Street sound like downtown. Somewhere far off someone is using a chainsaw, or maybe it’s a wood-chipper. That and a light breeze sighing through the pines and aspens is the whole soundtrack. Billy watches a bird go stiff-wing gliding across the blue sky.

‘You should take her with you.’

Billy turns to him, startled. Bucky has an old tin ashtray loaded with filterless butts sitting on his lap. ‘What? Are you crazy? I thought she could stay here with you while I track Nick down in Vegas.’

‘She could, but you really should take her along.’ He stubs out his cigarette, sets the ashtray aside, and leans forward. ‘Hear me now, because I’m not sure you did before. Guys are looking for you. Hard guys like this Dana Edison you mentioned. They know the cops didn’t catch you, they know Nick stiffed you, and they know there’s a damn good chance that you’ll be on your way to get what’s owing. That you’ll take it out of his hide if you can’t get it any other way.’

‘Like Shylock,’ Billy murmurs.

‘I don’t know about that, never saw the movie, but if you think that will fool them—’ He flicks the blond wig, which really has become bedraggled and needs to be replaced. ‘—you’re taking dumb pills. They know you’ve changed your appearance, you never would have gotten out of Red Bluff otherwise. And if you’re driving, there are only so many ways into Vegas. They’ll be watching all of them.’

He’s making sense, but Billy doesn’t like the idea of bringing Alice into danger. The idea was to get her out of it.

‘The first thing you might want to think about is the license plates on that ride of yours.’ He points down at the deck and the vehicles beneath. ‘There are cars with Dixieland plates in this part of the country, but not that many.’

Billy doesn’t reply. He’s struck dumb by his own stupidity. He set up the jammer to block the Fusion’s onboard computer, but he’s been flashing those blue-diamond plates all the way across the Midwest. Like a sign saying HERE I AM.

Bucky doesn’t have to read his mind because everything Billy’s thinking is on his face. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. You did most stuff right, especially for someone moving fast.’

‘It only takes one thing wrong to put your head in the noose.’

Bucky doesn’t disagree, just lights another cigarette and says he doubts if they’re looking for Billy in places like Oklahoma and Kansas. ‘They’ll want to concentrate out west. Keep it tight. Idaho, Utah, maybe Arizona, but most of all in Nevada. Until you get to Vegas, things stand out there.’

Billy nods.

‘Besides, if they’d seen you and tracked you, they’d be here already.’ Bucky gestures with his hand, leaving a trail of smoke in the air. ‘Isolated spot. Fine place for a shooting party. I think you’re okay, the odds in your favor. Which is good in another way, because the paperwork on that leased car is in the Dalton Smith name, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you have ID in any other name?’

Billy still has his David Lockridge DL and Mastercard, for all the good it will do him. ‘None that’s not burned.’

‘I can make you some, enough to get by. I’ll use Name Generator. Just, if I make you a credit card, don’t try using it. It’ll only be for show. And never mind switching the plates, you need to switch vehicles. That lease car can stay here for the time being, it’s butt-ugly anyway.’

‘Comfy, though,’ Billy says, and drinks some beer.

‘You’ve got money? You wired me my ten per cent of your advance, so I’m thinking you do.’

‘Forty thousand or so, but not in cash. Money Manager accounts back in Red Bluff.’

‘But in Dalton Smith’s name, yeah?’

‘Yes.’

Bucky’s cigarette is down to a roach. He butts it. ‘There’s a place on the east side of Sidewinder called Ricky’s Good Used Cars. Kind of a fly-by-night operation. You can buy something there. No, better, I buy something there. I can pay cash and you can give me a Dalton Smith check for the amount. I’ll wait to cash it until you’ve finished this fucktub of an operation.’

‘And if I get killed, you’ll be stuck.’

Bucky flaps a hand at him. ‘I’m not talking about a BMW, just something that’ll roll for as long as you need it to roll. Fifteen hundred dollars, maybe two grand. Maybe not a car at all. Maybe an old pickup truck would be better, something rusted out with bad springs but a worthwhile motor.’ He looks up into the sun, calculating. ‘And maybe pulling one of those little open trailers like landscape guys use to tote their mowers and blowers and shit.’

Billy can see it in his mind’s eye. A truck with paint cracking on the doors, rust on the rocker panels, and Bondo around the headlights. Clap a beat-up old cowboy hat on his head and yes, it could be good camouflage. He’d look like any day-wage drifter.

‘They’ll still be looking for a man alone,’ Bucky says, ‘and that’s where Alice comes in. You two pull into some roadside café where a couple of bounty hunters are drinking coffee and keeping an eye out on Highway 50, they’re going to see nothing but some fella and his daughter or niece in a broke-down old Dodge or F-150.’

‘I’m not taking Alice into a situation that might get bloody.’ The worst thing about it is that she might go.

‘Did you take her with you when you dealt with those dinks who raped her?’

Of course he didn’t, he left her in a nearby motel, but before he can say so, the back door opens and Alice is back.

16

When she comes out on the porch her color is high, she’s smiling, her hair is blown into a haystack, and Billy sees, with only minimal surprise, that, today at least, she’s actually kind of gorgeous.

‘It’s beautiful up there!’ she says. ‘So windy it almost blew me off my feet but oh my God, Billy, you can see forever!’

‘On a clear day,’ Billy agrees, smiling.

Alice either doesn’t get the reference or is too full of what she’s seen to give it even a token smile. ‘There were clouds in the sky above me, but also some below me. I saw this huge bird … it couldn’t have been a condor, but—’

‘Yes it could,’ Bucky tells her. ‘We get them up here now, although I’ve never seen one myself.’

‘And way across, on the other side, this is crazy, but I thought I saw that hotel you talked about. Then I blinked my eyes – the wind was so strong they were tearing up – and when I looked again, it was gone.’

Bucky doesn’t smile. ‘You’re not the only person who’s seen that. I’m not a superstitious man, but I wouldn’t go anywhere near where the Overlook Hotel used to stand. Bad stuff happened there.’

Alice ignores that. ‘It was a beautiful view and a beautiful walk. And guess what, Billy? There’s a little log cabin about a quarter of a mile up the path.’

Bucky is nodding. ‘Kind of a summerhouse type of thing, I guess. Once upon a time.’

‘Well, it looks clean and dry and there’s a table and some chairs. With the door open, it gets some sun. You could work on your story there, Billy.’ She hesitates. ‘If you wanted to, I mean.’

‘Maybe I will.’ He turns to Bucky. ‘How long have you owned this place?’

Bucky thinks about it. ‘Twelve years? No, I guess it’s more like fourteen. How the time slides by, huh? I make sure to come up for a week or a weekend once or twice every year. Get seen around town. It’s good to be a familiar face.’

‘What name do you go by?’

‘Elmer Randolph. My real first name and my middle.’ Bucky gets up. ‘I see you got eggs, and I think the time is just about right for huevos rancheros.’

He goes in. Billy gets up to follow, but before he can, Alice takes his arm just above the wrist. He remembers how she looked when he carried her across Pearson Street through the pouring rain, her eyes dull marbles peeping out between slitted lids. This is not that girl. This is a better girl.

‘I could live here,’ she says again.