forearm and feel the bumps from the mosquito bites. There was a thin sliver of blood on the back of her left hand, probably from a sticker in the brush or perhaps a we’ed. If she ever made it back to Memphis, she vowed to join a health club and get in shape. Not that she planned any more ventures like this, but she was tired of aching and gasping for breath.
Mark lowered onto one knee, stuck another weed in his mouth to chew on, and watched the garage.
THEY WAITED, ALMOST IN SILENCE, FOR AN HOUR. WHEN
she’d reached the point of leaving him and running wildly through the woods, Reggie said, “Okay, Mark, I’m leaving. Do what you’ve got to do, because I’m leaving now.” But she didn’t move.
They crouched together, and he pointed at the garage as if she didn’t know where it was. “I’m crawling up there, okay, with the flashlight, and I’m looking at the body, or the grave, or whatever they were digging at, okay?”
“No.”
“It won’t take but a second, maybe. If I’m lucky, I’ll be right back.”
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“No. I want you to stay here. I’m worried that those guys are watching too, somewhere along the tree line. If they come after me, I want you to start yelling and run like crazy.”
“No, No way, sweetheart. If you’re looking at the body, then I’m looking at the body, and I’m not arguing about it. That’s final.”
He looked at her eyes, four or five inches away, and decided not to argue. Her head was shaking and her jaw was tight. She looked cute under the cap.
“Then follow me, Reggie. Stay low, and listen. Always listen, okay.”
“All right, all right. I’m not totally helpless. In fact, I’m getting pretty good at crawling.”
They attacked from the brush on all fours again, two figures sliding in the still darkness. The grass was wet and cool. The gate, still open from the hasty retreat of the grave robbers, squeaked slightly when Reggie hooked it with a foot. Mark glared at her. They stopped behind the first tree, then eased to the next. Not a sound from anywhere. It was 2 A.M., and the neighborhood was silent. Mark, however, was worried about the nut next door with the gun. He doubted the man would sleep well with a thin sheet of plastic over the window, and he could envision him sitting in the kitchen watching the patio and waiting for the snap of a twig before he began blasting away again. They stopped at the next tree, then crawled to the junk pile.
She nodded once, taking small, quick breaths. They crouched and darted to the rear door of the garage, which was slightly open. Mark stuck his head
inside. He turned on the flashlight and aimed it at the floor. Reggie eased in behind him.
The odor was thick and pungent, like a dead animal rotting in the sun. Reggie instinctively covered her nose and mouth. Mark breathed deeply, then held his breath.
The only open space in the cluttered room was in the center, where the boat had been parked. They crouched over the concrete slab. “I’m getting sick,” Reggie said, barely opening her mouth.
Another ten minutes, and the body would have been out. They had started in the center, somewhere around the torso, and chipped away at each side. The black garbage bags, partially decomposed by the cement, had been ripped away. A ragged little trench had been cut away toward the feet and knees.
Mark had seen enough. He picked up a chisel, one that had been left behind, and jabbed it into black plastic.
“Don’t!” Reggie whispered loudly, backing away but still seeing it all.
He ripped through the garbage bag with the chisel, and followed it closely with the light. He made a slow turn, then pulled the plastic with his hand. He bolted upright in horror, then slowly placed the light squarely into the decaying face of the late Senator Boyd Boyette.
Reggie took another step backward, and fell onto a pile of bags filled -with aluminum cans. The racket was deafening in the still air. She scrambled and fought to get up in the darkness, but the thrashing and kicking created more noise. Mark grabbed a hand, and pulled her toward the boat. “I’m sorry!” she whispered, standing two feet from the corpse without thinking about it.
“Shhhhh,” Mark said as he stepped onto a box and peeked through the window. A light came on next door. The shotgun