the college.
Any way you look at it, Doug changed my life.
I start toward the door, then stop and say, “Do you want to get a beer?”
“Of course I do.” Doug gets up and looks at his watch. “It is almost noon.”
“Then let’s go.”
“What about Diane? Is she going to object to you drinking in the middle of the day?”
“She’s in Phoenix.”
“You don’t say.” Doug puts a hand on my shoulder. “In that case, my friend, I know the perfect place.”
– 7 –
I let Doug drive, and I don’t pay attention to where we’re going until it’s too late. When I see the sign, I have to laugh.
“You’re kidding.”
“Give it a shot,” Doug says. “They’ve got a great buffet.”
“The Body Shoppe? You’re serious?”
Doug pulls into the parking lot and turns off the engine. “Trust me, the food is good. You’ll like it.”
The building is a one-level box, no windows, and the paint is weatherworn, peeling away in long strips. The sign out front shows the silhouette of a woman bending forward with a man kneeling behind her and lifting her skirt with a car jack.
“Do you come here a lot, Doug?”
“No,” he says, drawing the word out. “Almost never.”
“I was thinking of someplace quieter.”
Doug looks at me. “What do you want to do? Sit in a booth at Applebee’s and drink piss beer and eat fake ribs? Why don’t you live a little?”
Live a little.
I look up at the sign and shake my head, then I follow Doug through the front door and into The Body Shoppe.
I decide right away that I’m not going to eat.
The air inside is heavy and thick and has that sour smell that only comes to a place after years without sunlight. The music is loud, and there are several dancers on stage, each one swaying back and forth in the swell of smoke like naked corpses dangling from the rafters.
Doug taps my arm then points to the far wall and a line of booths facing out toward the main stage.
“The buffet is back there,” he says. “It might be quieter.”
I follow him through the maze of tables toward a booth at the back of the room. A waitress comes by and asks us what we want.
“Beer,” I say. “In a bottle.”
“Me, too,” Doug says. “A glass is fine.”
Once she’s gone, Doug leans into the seat and says, “It’s a clean place, Jake. You can get a glass.”
“I don’t think I’ll take the chance.”
Doug shakes his head.
I glance up toward the line of dancers on stage.
It’s a hell of a sight.
None of the girls look younger than thirty, not even close. What I see is a showcase of caesarian scars and stretch marks, bruises so deep even the red and purple stage lights can’t hide them.
I stare at them for a while, then turn away.
“So, what’s going on?” Doug asks. “What’s the story with this detective?”
I’m not sure where to begin, so I start by telling him about the jar and my finger. Doug listens and doesn’t interrupt.
When I finish, he says, “Jesus, Jake.”
“This detective is worthless. He thinks I’m involved because of the trouble I got in as a kid.”
“The fights?”
“He doesn’t have anything else to go on. Meanwhile, I’m watching Diane slip away, and I can’t do anything about it.”
“That’s bullshit. She loves you.”
“That might not be enough.”
“Is that why she’s in Phoenix?”
“She said she had to go for business, but there’s more to it.” I lean forward and tap one finger on the table. “The thing is, I could end this today. One phone call to Gabby and it’s over, all of it.”
Doug watches me. “You’re not considering calling him, are you?”
“Why not?”
“You really need me to tell you?”
“Someone out there is after me, and I have no idea why. The cops aren’t doing a thing about it.”
“Give them time.”
“How much time?” I ask. “I can’t walk out my front door without looking over my shoulder. My wife is scared. My marriage is falling apart. I can’t sit around and wait for the police.”
“It’s playing with fire. Gabby will want something in return, and you know it.”
“Not with me. He’ll help if I ask.”
Doug pauses. “Yeah, I guess he might.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. I told Diane I wouldn’t call him. She wants to leave it to the police.”
“Good,” he says. “I understand your frustration, but wait and see what happens. The cops might surprise you.”
I laugh. “No, they won’t.”
The waitress comes over with our drinks. She sets them on the table, says, “Help yourselves