outside O’Brian’s? How?”
Ruby’s expression became contemplative. She turned her head and gazed out Ziggy’s fogged-up window.
“What is it?” I asked her.
“When we got back to the apartment . . . after . . . after what happened to Rhonda, you told me that David arrested somebody right before Uretsky called.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” I said, nodding.
I glanced at the time. Five minutes had ticked past; time kept moving like it was high on speed.
“The guy he arrested was inside Clegg’s car when Uretsky called.”
I nodded again. “So?” I asked, back to watching the time.
“Could you see inside the car, John?” Ruby asked.
I swallowed hard.
“No,” I said.
“I’m just saying—”
I understood right away. “You think that the guy Clegg arrested was Uretsky?” I recalled the man’s face: boyish features, sharp nose, thin frame, buzz-cut hair. Could he be Elliot Uretsky? “But he’d be in jail if that were so,” I said.
“He could have posted bail.”
I nodded. “But that doesn’t explain how he knows so much about us,” I said. “Or how he made a phone call with handcuffs on.”
“Not if . . . not if Clegg . . .”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, what if Clegg is in on it?”
“You think Uretsky is working with Clegg?”
My incredulousness was evident.
Ruby nodded, and vigorously. “What if David snapped? Survivor’s guilt, or something like that, and he blames you for picking him over Brooks. You said he’s getting divorced, right?”
I nodded.
“Maybe that pushed him over the edge,” Ruby continued. “Some kind of stress-induced insanity. I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud here.”
I brushed the idea off like it was something crawling up my neck.
“No,” I said. “That’s crazy.”
I wouldn’t admit it—not then, anyway—but Ruby had dug a foothold into my rock of denial, and I’d begun to imagine the impossible. I recalled what Clegg had said to me inside the bar. Here’s your living proof that crime doesn’t pay. Why did he say that?
I glanced again at the time. Ten forty.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I said. “After.” I moved to open the door.
Ruby reached across her seat and grabbed my arm. “John, what if there are other people in the store?”
I gripped her hand. “I’m going for the cash, and then I’m gone.”
“Yeah, well, what if somebody tries to stop you? You know, plays the hero.”
“I’ll wait until the store is empty.”
“What if you can’t?”
“I don’t know, Ruby!” I didn’t mean to shout at her, but my nerves were already frayed and on edge.
“Maybe you can hand him a note?”
“A note?”
“Explaining what’s going on,” Ruby said.
“And then take his hundred fifty dollars?”
“Tell him you just need to pretend to steal the money.”
“He won’t go for it. He’ll think I’m crazy.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’d think I was crazy.”
“I want to kill him,” Ruby said.
“Me too,” I answered.
I tried to move, but Ruby wouldn’t let go of my arm.
“What if he sees you running toward Kent Street?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Giovanni. What if Giovanni sees you running toward Kent Street?” This made me pause.
“Shit,” I said.
“The police might start searching the cars.”
“Make it an hour,” I said.
“An hour?”
“Leave me in the trunk for an hour. They can’t just pop the trunk without having probable cause. A parked car isn’t probable cause.”
Ruby looked pleased by something. “I don’t know if you’ll even have enough air for an hour. I’m not going to wait that long. There’s a railroad track running perpendicular to Kent Street,” she said, remembering. “I saw it on the Google map. Maybe they’ll think you ran down the tracks.”
“Maybe,” I said.
She clutched my hands and looked intently into my eyes. “Don’t do this, John,” she said.
“I don’t have a choice.”
I took off my shirt and put on the clothes Uretsky had provided for me. Just the feel of the fabric made my skin itch, and the thought that Uretsky might have once worn these clothes made me want to burn them. I decided I’d do just that—each article of clothing I’d incinerate into ash. I got the shirt and jacket on. Next, I pulled the ski mask over my head, just to test it out.
“How do I look?” I asked Ruby.
I watched Ruby gulp down her concern.
“Scary, John,” she said. “You look really, really scary.”
CHAPTER 22
I tucked the gun into the waistband of my jeans, stuffed the ski mask inside the pocket of Uretsky’s green army jacket, and kissed Ruby good-bye. It was a long kiss, more desperate than passionate, the kind that spoke of final farewells. Forget the maxim “Live each day like it’s