The Same End

by Gregory Ashe

  “Son of a bitch,” Nick muttered.

  Kalista gave Nick a long look and then turned to Jem. “And you’re telling us because you and your . . . interested party, you just wanted to help us out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “No,” Jem said with an embarrassed smile and a shrug. “I want to kill Tanner Kimball. And I’d like to do it without stepping on your toes.”

  “Why?” Nick said, smoothing the hair over his ears. “What did he do to you?”

  Jem’s smile just got bigger. “Not only is Tanner a hot potato, the kind you don’t want to handle right now, he’s also a backstabbing son of a bitch. If you keep him involved, he’s going to put a bullet in the back of your heads and walk off with . . . whatever business you’re conducting.”

  “So you say,” Kalista said. “Unless I put a bullet in his head first.”

  “This was just a friendly warning,” Jem said. “Tanner isn’t someone you should—”

  She made a chopping noise, the gesture so vicious that some of her hair came loose from the clip. “You two need to leave now.”

  “If you could help us track down Tanner, I could make sure he doesn’t complicate your business—”

  “I said go!” The words were a shout.

  Jem threw a helpless glance at Tean.

  “I want to show you something,” Tean said, standing. “Can you give me two minutes and then make your decision? After you see this, I think you’ll want to cooperate.”

  Again, Kalista’s face went blank. Some sort of internal calculation, Tean decided. Something that belied the spoiled princess routine. Then she nodded.

  “Go into your bathroom, please,” Tean said to Nick. To Kalista, “Go into your bedroom.”

  “I don’t like the idea of—” Nick began.

  “We’ll stay right here,” Jem said.

  Nick and Kalista exchanged a glance. They must have reached a decision because they headed down the hallway.

  “Ok,” Nick called back.

  “Grab the medicine cabinet and pull,” Tean shouted.

  From the back of the villa came a thump. “Holy shit!”

  “Nick, are you ok?”

  “I’m flat on my ass because I pulled too hard. Yes, I’m fine. What the actual, ever-living fuck?”

  “Kalista,” Jem called, “check between the mattress and the box spring.”

  A moment later: “What the fuck is this?”

  “Kalista, you’re not going to believe this?”

  “What the fuck is this? Is this some kind of joke, Nick?”

  “Kalista, shut the fuck up and look at the wall.”

  Tean knew when she understood; she screamed.

  When Nick and Kalista came back, Kalista kept saying, “Call the police, call the police.”

  This time, Nick was the cool one. He perched on the arm of the empty chair, Kalista pacing in front of him, and studied Jem and Tean. “Ok,” he said, “tell us all of it.”

  “You’ve heard pretty much all of it,” Jem said. “Tanner and his friends are nasty pieces of work.”

  “Did any of the three attempt to initiate sexual encounters?” Tean asked.

  “That motherfucking son of a bitch,” Kalista screamed. She grabbed her tumbler and hurled it. It struck the wall and shattered.

  “I wish, honey. I caught Tanner checking out my ass a couple of times, and I gave him a few winks, but he didn’t bite.” Nick waved a floppy hand. “Blake’s a major homo, but he’s so closeted I’d need a bulldozer to get him out of there. And Antonio was always talking about his girl.”

  “What the fuck is that in there?” Kalista pointed to the bedroom at the end of the hall. “What the fuck is that?”

  “I think you know what,” Jem said. “If things went the way Tanner wanted, he would have had a little fun before running off with your money. Taking some pictures of you through that peephole would have been the least of it, I think.”

  “But it’s Nick’s bathroom.”

  “If things had gone differently, I think Blake would have suddenly become very interested in Nick. They would have hit it off quickly. Or, if that didn’t work, Blake and Antonio would have taken Nick out of the equation.”

  “That son of a bitch.” Her nails bit into the arm of the chair. “I’m going to kill him!”

  “When was the last time you saw Tanner?” Jem asked. “Do you know where he might be hiding?”

  “Get out. I want you to get out.”

  “When did you see him?”

  “Nick, make them get out!”

  “When?”

  “Wednesday! Wednesday! The three of them were in an argument and pretending like they weren’t. They left; Tanner called Thursday to tell us he was taking care of something, and he said he’d be back in time for the deal. Now get the fuck out!”

  Jem rose, and Tean led the way to the door.

  Nick followed them outside; from within the villa came the sound of glass breaking mixed with Kalista’s shrieks.

  “At least she didn’t get hurt,” Jem said. “She ought to be grateful.”

  “Please,” Nick said, sniffing. “She’s pissy because she doesn’t like having her toys taken away. She thought she was going to have fun with Tanner.”

  A thunderous crash made Tean think of a heavy piece of furniture being overturned.

  “That’s going to be hell when they charge your credit card for the damage,” Jem said.

  “Tanner paid,” Nick said with a grin. “He insisted after Kalista told him she was scared her ex might track her down. He and his friends insisted on staying somewhere else, just so we didn’t draw attention.”

  “Gee, what a guy.”

  “Could I talk to you?” Nick said to Jem.

  “We’re talking right now.”

  Nick’s eyes cut toward Tean. “In private?”

  “No,” Tean said.

  “It’s fine,” Jem said.

  Tean tried to catch Jem’s eyes, but Jem was examining Nick openly, his expression frank and interested as his gaze swept up and down the smaller man.

  “Go on,” Jem said. “Shoo.”

  “Shoo?”

  “That’s right. Shoo.”

  Tean didn’t stomp on his way to the truck, but his steps were very loud.

  He watched the shadows of insects moving against artificial lights. He watched nightjars swooping for their evening meal. He thought about all the things he was going to tell Jem: scorpions and coral snakes and harvester ants and camel spiders. Somehow he ended up looking straight at the villa, at the cement walk where Jem and Nick were silhouettes. Nick stretched up, and for a moment it looked like he was going to kiss Jem, and then he dropped back onto his heels, laughing. He held Jem’s hand for a moment, and then he headed into the villa.

  When Jem reached the truck, he had a bemused grin that looked annoyingly self-satisfied. He glanced at Tean, stopped, and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Your face isn’t saying nothing.”

  “I’m saying nothing. My mouth is saying nothing.”

  “You’re allowed to go on dates, but I can’t talk to a cute guy?”

  “You are a real jerk sometimes, Jem,” Tean said, and he climbed into the truck and slammed the door.

  19

  They drove north on US-191 toward Moab. The city was an oasis of artificial light, a haze just visible above the striated cliffs ahead of them that were dissolving into the gloom.

  Jem tried to keep his voice even. “Ok, explain how I’m a jerk.”

  Tean tightened his grip on the steering wheel; any tighter, Jem thought, and he was going to rip it off the column. And then probably beat Jem to death with it.

  “So you’re giving me the silent treatment?”

  “No. I just don’t want to talk about this.”

  “You don’t want to explain why you’re mad at me? What about all that stuff about feelin
g your feelings and—”

  “I am feeling them!”

  When the shout died out, the only sound was the hum of the tires.

  “You and I agreed we were better as friends,” Jem said.

  “I told you I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Too bad. I am your friend. I’ve tried to be a good one, or as good as I can be. I don’t understand why I’m a jerk just for talking to a cute—”

  “Quit saying that. That’s not what it is.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really. I don’t care about that.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Tean shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter, still throttling the steering wheel. “You can date whoever you want. Talk to whoever you want. Kiss whoever you want.”

  “Fuck whoever I want?”

  In the pale radiance of the dash, Tean’s blush was visible. “But I don’t like being told to ‘shoo’ just so you can hit on someone during an interview as part of—of whatever we’re doing here.”

  “You almost called it a case.”

  “It’s not a case. It’s just us doing something that we shouldn’t be doing. And don’t change the subject.”

  Night had leeched the colors from the stone. The bands of red and orange and grayish green were gone, everything stripped down to shades of gray except the yellow stripes illuminated by the headlights. The smell of sagebrush and pine resin, the smell of the steppes, was mixed with the dry, dusty air of the desert plateau. For someone who loved the city, Jem was uncomfortably aware, he had a surprisingly strong reaction to that combination of scents. He reached over and put his hand on the back of Tean’s neck.

  Tean jerked, trying to throw him off.

  “Stop it. Jesus, now I know where Scipio gets it from. Like father, like son.”

  Tean didn’t exactly gnash his teeth, but the clicking sound was suspiciously familiar.

  “I said stop it, God damn it.” Jem tightened his grip long enough to give a few gentle shakes, and then he relaxed his fingers, his thumb stroking the side of Tean’s neck. “I’m sorry, all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “I was just trying to be funny; I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  The doc hunched lower; the muscles and tendons in his neck were stiff.

  “Well, yell at me or something. Feel your feelings so we can go back to being best friends.”

  “Is he your type?”

  Jem burst out laughing. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Jem couldn’t have explained why he did what he did next. He slouched in the seat, his knees spreading, taking up as much room as he could. He scratched lightly at the back of Tean’s neck. “I wouldn’t exactly say I have a type, but, sure. He’s cute.”

  They must have gone a quarter mile, the tires whining beneath them, Tean coiling tighter and tighter before he said, “He’s probably got hemorrhoids.”

  This time, Jem caught the laugh before it could escape. “What?”

  “Did you see how he walked? He’s definitely got hemorrhoids.”

  “I think he just walks that way.”

  “Of course he does. He walks that way because he’s got bulging veins in his rectum.”

  “Sweet Jesus.” Jem cleared his throat. “The good news is that there’s a lot of anecdotal evidence that anal sex helps with hemorrhoids. Pushes them back into place. So, you know, I’m basically a physician. A trained medical professional. Administering a life-saving procedure.”

  “Perfect. So he’s not just your type, but you’re going to have sex with him, hemorrhoids and all, regardless of however many STIs he has floating around in his system. And crabs. He’s probably got crabs. And now you have them, but you should have thought of that before having sex with him.”

  “Well, I was going to ask your blessing first. And a lotion—I think they’ve got a lotion for that.”

  Jem’s breath exploded in a whoosh as Tean slammed a fist into his belly. Croaking for air, Jem managed: “Glasses.”

  With one finger, Tean shoved the glasses back into place. “And his hair.”

  “Can’t breathe.”

  “His hair is stupid.”

  Jem tugged on the doc’s wild, pushed-back hair. “His hair, huh?”

  “You can’t even see his ears. For all you know, he’s one of those people who have had their ears surgically altered to look like elves.”

  “I like elves. Elves are sexy. And you’ve got to admire someone who would commit to something like that.”

  Tean made a noise that was uncannily like a steam whistle.

  “I know,” Jem said. “He’s perfect.”

  “Fine. His swollen rectal veins and his crabs and his lopped-off ears don’t bother you. Whatever. I don’t care. But he’s still part of the case.”

  Squeezing Tean’s neck, Jem said, “A little credit, please? Do you really think I’m going to let some guy lead me around by my dick? I’m disappointed. And, actually, kind of hurt. If he wants to hit on me, great. That’s one more opportunity for me to talk to him. Think of it as pumping him for information instead of, you know, just pumping him.”

  Tean actually had the decency to blush even harder.

  “You know, like, pumping him.”

  “Yes, I get it.”

  “A hand job. My hand on his dick. Sliding up and down, squeezing. That’s what I’m comparing it to.”

  “Oh my gosh.”

  “That kind of pumping.”

  “Jem, I’m sorry for doubting you, but please, please, please stop talking right now.”

  Laughing, Jem scratched the doc’s neck and let him drive. Night had closed in. On their left, the desert and the red-rock cliffs and the cacti and the scrub had all vanished. On their right, scattered lights revealed homes, a pole shed with aluminum siding, a gas station. Ahead of them, Moab was coming into focus, the haze of light sharpening into discrete points.

  “Do you think he knows where Tanner’s hiding?” Jem asked.

  “Please do not make me talk to you about a boy.”

  “Dummy,” Jem said, shaking him again. “This is about finding Tanner. Do you think they know where he’s hiding?”

  Tean frowned. “I don’t know why they would. He wouldn’t have wanted them to be able to track him down, and they seemed genuinely upset.”

  “Maybe they were lying.”

  “Maybe. Do you think they were lying?”

  Jem shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s safer to assume everyone is lying until we know otherwise.”

  “I don’t think—” Tean cut off and cocked his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t like them. Either of them, actually. And not just because, you know.”

  “They’re drug dealers, and you’re jealous of your best friend getting some dong?”

  “He’s probably got one of those STIs that make your penis have a yellowish-white discharge.”

  Jem pretended to throw up into the footwell.

  “What about the argument?” Tean said.

  “Yeah.” Jem hooked his fingers behind Tean’s collar, playing with the cotton. “I was thinking about that too. Tanner, Blake, and Antonio are ready for this deal to go down. Blake and Antonio are having second thoughts. Then something happens on Wednesday, and according to Kalista and Nick, they get in a big fight. Thursday, Antonio and Tanner are back in Salt Lake, and Tanner kills Andi. Antonio gets arrested, Blake’s dead in a canyon, and Tanner vanishes.”

  They had reached the outskirts of Moab. Tean signaled to turn left, and he followed a side street, flipped around, and parked in front of a prefabricated building with a cracked foundation. The streetlights were spaced wide here, and Tean had chosen a dark spot.

  “Why are we skulking?” Jem asked.

  Tean let out a sigh. “We’ve run down everything we could on what Tanner was doing in Moab, but we still don’t know where he might be hiding. That’s why we need a new angle.”

&n
bsp; “What new angle?”

  “We’re going to break into a federal government building and, in all likelihood, be arrested, convicted, imprisoned, and probably murdered by our cellmates because we refuse to join their prison gangs on ethical grounds.”

  “I want you to focus on the very short interim,” Jem said, “between imprisonment and being murdered because I have this gut feeling you’re going to get a job in the prison laundry, and I know how much you love doing laundry.”

  Tean stared at him.

  “You’ve got to look on the bright side,” Jem informed him. “Now, where are we breaking into?”

  20

  Jem followed Tean toward the low building of brown stone. Security lights illuminated the parking lot and the entrance; a sign announced that this was the Bureau of Land Management – Moab Field Office. The only vehicle in the parking lot was a brand-new Silverado. It had a luxury trim package, with chrome bumpers and a chrome front grille, alloy wheels, and tinted windows. Jem was pretty sure if he got close enough, he’d see leather upholstery.

  “Tanner gave us another lead without meaning to,” Tean said. They stood in a patch of deeper shadow cast by a line of poplars. “The weapon. The injection rifle he used to shoot Andi. He could have gotten an injection rifle pretty easily, but the immunocontraceptive in the dart syringe, that’s made and sold by the Science and Conservation Center in Montana. You can’t just buy it in PetSmart.”

  “This is the stuff they use to keep horses from getting knocked up?”

  “Right. I’ve been thinking a lot about Tanner shooting Andi with that gun because it’s so strange. We know Tanner liked causing pain. The injection rifle probably appealed to his sadism because he could hurt people and animals with it, but the injuries wouldn’t be fatal. It’s entirely possible that Tanner saw someone using one of the injection rifles down here and that’s where he got the idea. He could have ordered one. For that matter, he could have walked into a veterinary supply store, a farm supply store, or even a sporting goods store and bought one over the counter. But what he couldn’t do is get his hands on ZonaStat-H. Not unless he stole it. And the only people using it in this part of the world are BLM staff who are trying to control the mustang population.”