Chapter 38

38

“No one followed you?” Marc said by way of greeting, too tired and stressed for meaningless pleasantries. It was just Dozer. Social niceties weren’t necessary.

“I wouldn’t be here if they had,” Dozer said irritably. “I’m not that dumb.”

That was debatable, Marc thought, but he let it pass. He couldn’t afford to have Dozer get a mood on. They had work to do.

“We need to get rid of that car,” he said. “Fucking town cop chased me halfway out here night before last. Tried to run me off the goddamn road. I guess that’s what they do to junkie thieves these days. Anyway, there’s people looking for it now. It’s gotta go.”

“You got a junkyard,” Dozer said stupidly.

“Are you fucking serious, man?” Marc barked. “I can’t take that onto my family property! Jesus, Dozer! If somebody saw it there…”

Moron , he wanted to say, but he didn’t.

Dozer shrugged. “Can’t we just burn it?”

“No, we can’t burn it! Someone will see the smoke. I think we should run it into the water and let it sink.”

“Well, don’t do it here,” Dozer said. “Me, I don’t want my cousin tied up with this. That comes right back on me.”

“We’ll take it somewhere else, then,” Marc said. “Stick to the back roads. As long as it gets gone. The sooner the better.”

“And then what?” Dozer asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t stay here forever.”

“I know that,” Marc snapped. “I’m working on a plan. I need to go home. People are gonna be pissed. I gotta figure out the best way to go back and not have everybody be upset and asking a thousand questions.”

Dozer rolled his eyes. “You been gone for days. It’s been all over the TV. You think people aren’t gonna ask questions? Or you think they’re gonna just throw you a parade, as usual?”

“What is your problem, man?”

“You’re my problem,” Dozer grumbled. “I got that detective, Fourcade, all over me like shit on a hog, asking all kinds of questions about you, about Halloween, about Robbie—”

“What’s he know about Robbie?” Marc asked, a little shock of alarm going through him.

“Nothing. That’s why he keeps asking.”

“What’d you tell him about Robbie?”

“Nothing! He says someone saw us with Robbie at Monster Bash.”

“Shit!”

“Yeah,” Dozer said. “You’re sitting out here doing nothing but drinking my cousin’s booze while I gotta deal with that guy dogging my ass.”

“Just keep your mouth shut!” Marc said, panicking a little at the idea that Dozer might have said something he shouldn’t have. He was easily led, easily confused, and dumber than a stump. If he let himself get tricked into saying something…

“I told you, I ain’t said nothing!” Dozer said. He was getting wound up now. His big ears were turning red. “You think I’m stupid? You think I’m just gonna up and say, ‘Oh, you mean that guy we killed?’?”

“Jesus! Don’t even say that out loud!” Marc snapped, looking around as if there might be people out there in the wilderness eavesdropping.

“Why not?” Dozer challenged him. “It’s true. We killed a man!”

“It was an accident!”

“Was it?”

Marc felt suddenly cold. Dozer, for once, seemed sober as a judge, despite the smell of whiskey on his breath.

“You were there,” Marc said. “You saw what happened. He came at me! And that was on you !”

Dozer nodded. “Oh, right. That was my fault. Everything is always my fault. It’s never your fault, Saint Marc, is it? Nothing is ever your fault. You always got Dozer to pass it off onto, don’t you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Marc could feel himself hyperventilating. He was losing control of the situation, losing control of Dozer. That couldn’t happen.

“You’re the one just had to talk to him that night,” Marc said. “You’re the one had to say how sorry you were.”

“Because I am,” Dozer said. “I’ve spent ten years sick over what I did to him.”

“It was an accident!”

Dozer wagged his head. “You probably even believe that now. You just went on like nothing ever happened, ’cause it didn’t happen to you.”

Of course he’d gone on with his life, Marc thought. That had been the whole point, hadn’t it? Knock Robbie out of the way so he could get his chance. Of course he hadn’t squandered it. He hadn’t had any control over the extent of Robbie’s injury. It wasn’t his fault Robbie had gotten hooked on painkillers. None of that had been in his hands.

There was no point in talking about it now. They couldn’t change what had happened even if they had wanted to.

He took a deep breath and gathered his wits.

“Look,” he said, holding his hands up as if in surrender. “Let’s just get this car gone. We’ll sort the rest out later.”

He turned away and went to pull the tarp off Robbie Fontenot’s piece-of-shit Toyota.

“No,” Dozer said.

Marc spun around. “What? What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. You’re the one went to college, and you don’t know what no means? Oh.” He caught himself. “I suppose you don’t, since no one’s ever said no to you, golden boy.”

“What is your problem today?” Marc asked.

“You. You’re my problem,” Dozer said. “And I’m here to end it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m done,” he said. “I’m done being your henchman. I’m done being your stooge, Marc. I’m done trying to drown it all out with booze. You never even cared what that did to me, did you? You got what you wanted, and you got the hell out of here. What did I get? Stuck in a bottle, going nowhere.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Marc asked. “I couldn’t take you to Tulane with me! Was I supposed to take your SATs for you? Was I supposed to stop you drinking? What did you expect from me?”

Dozer stared at him with sadness and disgust. “Nothing. I served your purpose. That’s all that mattered to you.”

The thing was, Dozer wasn’t wrong, Marc knew. He had used Dozer over and over because it was easy, because Dozer let him, because it did indeed serve his purpose to do it. He was such a piece of shit.

“I’m done, Marc,” Dozer said, taking a step back. “That’s what I come to tell you. I’m going to Fourcade and telling him everything, and what happens happens, but it’s off my conscience.”

Marc thought he might be having a coronary. His heart was suddenly banging in his chest like a fist trying to break through. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Are you out of your damn mind?!” he said, pursuing Dozer as he took another step back toward his truck. “We’ll go to prison! And for what? Robbie’s dead! He ain’t coming back!”

“This is what I’m doing, Marc,” Dozer said. “You do what you will. I’m sure you’ll come out smelling like a rose. You always do. But this time you gotta do it without me. I’m done.”

He turned and started to walk away.

Marc’s brain was a scramble of animal panic and wild thoughts, grasping for ideas of how to get out of this. Maybe no one would believe Dozer. He was a drunk, and everyone knew he wasn’t quite right in the head. Who would believe him over me? But this Detective Fourcade said he had a witness who put him with Dozer and Robbie that night…And there he was with Robbie Fontenot’s car…

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, shit.

What could he do? There were three people living who knew what happened that night, and only two of them would never talk. The third had turned his back…

From the corner of his eye Marc caught sight of the red-handled axe lying on the firewood piled against the rusty metal shed. Without a second’s hesitation, he grabbed it and swung it as hard as he could.