Cold in July

by Joe R. Lansdale

  “I can’t believe you,” she said. “I just can’t.” Then she got up and left the room.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the table and looked at the coffee, and after a while I got up and poured it in the sink and cleaned up the toast and broken dish. I went into the living room and stretched out on our new couch, and I was more exhausted than I thought. I fell asleep immediately, only to be awakened by a soft movement on my forehead.

  I opened my eyes and Ann was on her knees next to the couch leaning over me. Her blond hair was falling down her face and onto mine and I could see the fine crow’s feet that had just begun to form at the edge of her magnificent eyes and they looked just fine to me. She had her hand on my forehead, and she was pushing my hair back. “You’re right,” she said. “They wouldn’t have let him go that easy. There’s something going on. I think what you did was stupid and you should have talked to me first, but you’re right, them letting him go like that doesn’t add up. Tell me all of it. Top to bottom.”

  “After I kiss you,” I said.

  · · ·

  My appetite came back and we had coffee and toast and I told her all of it again only in greater detail. I told her exactly how Russel had acted and what he had said to me, and I told her about this Jim Bob Luke character who might be a detective Russel once knew.

  “Baby,” she said, “I don’t want to reopen the wound, but Russel could be crazy as a loon, and even if you didn’t kill his son, he may not believe you. He may be planning to get in your good graces so he can get to Jordan. I just think what you did was… stupid.”

  “Maybe. But he had his chance to kill Jordan and I couldn’t have stopped him. He chose not to. He had his chance to kill me today, and I think had he wanted to he would have done it and damned anyone seeing him. I don’t think he would have cared, because he knew the police would know he did it, since I was stupid enough to drive off with him. No, I think the man was literally out of his mind from grief, and when it came down to root hog or die, he couldn’t do it. It took all the wind out of his sails. All he wants now is to find his son. I’m not saying I like the guy, I’m just saying I’m not afraid of him now.”

  “Okay, he’s out. But what’s it to you, baby? He can search for his son on his own.”

  “He hasn’t got the money.”

  “That’s his problem,” I could see the spark coming back into her eyes and I wanted to fan it down before we went through a similar scene like the earlier one. Ann had a temper, and even when she cooled, she could flare up faster than a windblown coal.

  “The money isn’t just for him. He finds his son, I can find out who it was I killed.”

  “What’s it matter?”

  “I can find out why the police are doing this.”

  “Again, what’s it matter? Jordan is safe, we’re safe, and now Russel is free. Justice is served, and if there’s any more to it, that’s Russel’s problem. It doesn’t matter what the burglar’s name was. He isn’t anyone we’d want to know. He tried to kill you.”

  “It’s the principle of the thing.”

  “Principle. Who has principles?”

  “I do.”

  “Yeah, tough guy. The macho code.”

  “It’s more than that. I can’t look myself in the eye if I just drop it.”

  “So quit using mirrors.”

  “Shit, Ann, I can’t do it. You know me better than that.”

  “This honor stuff has been okay up until now and kind of cute, Richard. You’ve railed about it before, and it was always something trivial. You told the truth when you could have lied and bettered yourself. Admirable. You stood by a friend when he was down. Nice. You had scruples. Wonderful. But it’s Sunday school stuff. It’s not for real life. Not when it gets big and nasty, baby.”

  “Price gave me a similar speech from a different angle. He didn’t call me baby though.”

  She almost smiled at me. “This is something to do with the law. Maybe they know what they’re doing. Maybe it’s best we don’t know.”

  “They could have gotten one of us killed just by lying, by saying the man I shot was Freddy Russel. If they hadn’t lied in the first place, none of this would have happened. I want to know why.”

  “You want to make sure you don’t tarnish your damn honor,” she said, getting up a bit too quickly and pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee and sloshing it onto the counter.

  “It’s something to believe in. It makes me believe in myself, and with what faults I’ve got, I’ve got that to believe in, and it’s the only thing I can pass on to my son that’s worth a shit. It’s all I have of my Dad.”

  “He shot himself, Richard. His sense of honor didn’t keep him from doing that. He found out your mother was cheating on him and he couldn’t take it. It offended his macho pride and he blew his brains out… Oh, Richard, I didn’t mean to say that… Not that way.”

  I sat silent for a moment. “I think he shot himself because he failed himself. He didn’t live up to the man he thought he ought to be. I think he felt like he was taking seconds when he took his wife to bed at night and that he was learning to be satisfied with it. He knew he should have confronted her or left, or both, but he couldn’t, and that was the thing he couldn’t live with, being weak that way. He found it easier to go all the way out than to just walk out.”

  “You’re guessing, Richard.”

  “Yeah, but I think I’m right. I can sympathize with him not feeling he was living up to who he wanted to be. I’m not saying if I don’t do this thing I’ll kill myself, because I won’t, but I am saying, I’d like to see what I’m made of. I don’t think I can come home and watch TV and read the newspapers and let this go like nothing ever happened. It would eat at my guts for the rest of my life. Aren’t you in the least bit curious, Ann? Don’t you want to know what’s going on and why?”

  She started to say no, then paused. “All right,” she said. “Let’s see if we can find out what it’s all about.”

  20

  I called the Lazy Lodge. Russel sounded tired and old when he answered.

  “Use some of that money I gave you to call Jim Bob Luke,” I said. “I’ll give you some more. Ann and I are coming there for lunch soon as we get Jordan squared away.”

  “Your wife?”

  “I believe you know her name. You know all our names and a lot about us. Remember, you researched us?”

  There was a long silence. “All right, bring her.”

  “I intended to. You call Jim Bob and see if it’s the man you knew and if he’s still doing what he used to do and if he’ll work for us. We’ll bring you a hamburger or something when we come. We can make plans from there.”

  “What’s Jim Bob’s number?”

  I gave it to him.

  “How does your wife feel about this?” Russel asked.

  “She hates your guts. I’m surprised she’ll even be in the same room with you.”

  “This is going to be cozy. Wish I could make it up to her.”

  “Well, you can’t. Just sit tight and make the call. We’ll be there before too long.”

  · · ·

  We went by Jordan’s day school and checked him in late. Then we stopped off at Burger King and ate so we wouldn’t have to eat with Russel. That was too damn friendly. When we finished I bought him a hamburger and french fries and a soft drink and we drove to the Lazy Lodge.

  Ann looked the place over. “Looks just right for him.”

  We got out and walked to Russel’s room. The door was still open and Russel was sitting on the bed looking at us. I went on in, but Ann stood in the doorway looking at him. Russel couldn’t hold her gaze. He checked out some tatters in the rug, which looked older than original sin.

  “Come in, Ann,” I said.

  I waved her to the chair I had sat in, and when she was seated it groaned at her the way it had at me. I gave Russel the sack with the food in it and he sat it on the bed beside him and didn’t open it. “Thanks,” he said.
r />   I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms and felt the heat of the room nestle about me like chain mail. The air conditioner still wasn’t on.

  “You talk to Jim Bob Luke?” I asked.

  Russel stole a glance at Ann, still didn’t like what he saw, so he looked at me. “Yeah.”

  “Well?”

  “It’s the same Jim Bob Luke, all right.”

  “For Christ sake, Russel, tell me what he said.”

  “He’s coming. He’ll be here in about three hours. I told him everything. He sounds just the same. It was like it was yesterday I saw him last.”

  “I’m glad you talked about old times,” Ann said, “but is he going to help us when he gets here?”

  “He is.”

  “Jesus,” Ann said, and she got up and walked out the door.

  I walked out after her. She had gone about halfway down the walk and was leaning against the wall, looking across the highway like it was a raging river she had to swim.

  “You okay?” I said.

  “How did I let you talk me into this?”

  “Ann, I’m worn down and I know you are. I’m going to do this thing and I’d like for you to see it through with me. I’m not going to argue anymore. I’m doing this because I’ve got to. I’d like for you to understand and accept it. At least tolerate it. We’ve been together for a long time for you not to trust me.”

  I held out my hand.

  She didn’t smile; but she took my hand and we walked back to Russel’s room.

  · · ·

  About two-thirty an ancient blood-red Cadillac about the size of a submarine pulled up directly in front of the door to Russel’s room. There were baby shoes hanging off the mirror along with a big, yellow, foam-rubber dice, and on the windshield was a homemade sticker that had six stick-figure humans and three dogs drawn on it and there was an X through each of them. The car had curb feelers and they were still wobbling violently when the driver got out and slammed the door and stretched.

  “Shit,” Russel said. “That’s Jim Bob’s Caddy. That sucker’s twenty years old. It was new when I went in the joint.”

  I could see the man stretching beside the door, and he looked like a washed-up country and Western singer. He was tall and lean and wore a worn straw hat with a couple of anemic feathers in it. He had on a white cowboy shirt with thin green stripes in it and faded blue jeans and boots that looked like they had often waded through water and shit.

  Russel got off the bed and went out there and I heard the cowboy yell, “Goddamn, ole horse, you look like smoking dog shit.”

  “I been sick,” Russel said pleasantly.

  “Sick! You look like you been dead and some ignorant fuck dug you up. Good to see you again, you sorry asshole. How’s it hanging?”

  “It’s hanging fine. Jim Bob, there’s a lady in the room here.”

  “One that costs money?”

  “No, a real lady.”

  “Shit, me and my goddamn mouth.”

  And then Jim Bob came into the room behind Russel and I got a real look at him. His age was hard to determine, but from what Russel had said, I knew he was at least fifty. He had a pleasant, tanned (except where his hat protected his forehead), thin face and a mouth that was full of nice, white teeth made for smiling.

  “You must be Mr. Dane?” he said.

  I shook hands with him and introduced Ann.

  “You didn’t mention a woman,” Jim Bob said to Russel.

  “My surprise,” Russel said.

  “Howdy, ma’am. I’m sorry for the way I was talking out there in the parking lot, but I didn’t know a lady was in here.”

  “Just treat me like one of the guys,” Ann said.

  “No, ma’am, I couldn’t do that. Only a deaf, dumb and blind fella could treat you like one of the guys. You darn sure don’t look like no one of the guys.”

  “Thank you,” Ann said after a pause.

  “Man, Ben,” Jim Bob said, “this place looks like a Juarez whorehouse, couldn’t you have done no better than this?”

  “Well,” Russel said, “actually, Mr. Dane paid for these accommodations.”

  “That right?” Jim Bob said. “I don’t call this here accommodations. I’ve seen nigger rent shacks better than this.”

  “I wasn’t trying to find Russel a permanent place to live,” I said, “just a place to nest for a time.”

  “Nest?” Jim Bob said. “If you was a bird would you nest here? Hell, a bird wouldn’t shit here, let alone nest… Pardon my French, ma’am.”

  I looked at Ann and she looked at me. The expression on her face was noncommittal. Too noncommittal.

  “Tell you what, lady and men, we’re gonna shag on out of this place and get on out to the Holiday Inn. Get some good grub and maybe even one of them magic fingers beds for ole Ben here, then we’ll get to shoveling our piles, all right?”

  “Jim Bob,” I said, “I don’t even know you. Did Russel explain what’s going on here?”

  “Yeah, he wants to find his son and you want to find out whose brains you blew out and why the cops lied to you and what they’re up to. But that don’t mean we got to stand around here in this sweatbox with this good-looking lady perched on that rotten chair like a parrot. Let’s go on over and get some air-conditioning. I do a lot better thinking when I have a big ole steak under my belt and a couple of cold Lone Stars to ride on top of it. I don’t do my best thinking when I’m hot as a Cuban whore and the place smells like a pig’s favorite corner, and I ain’t knocking pigs cause I own a dozen of them—Yorkshires. But folks, this ain’t headquarters.”

  Ann and I followed Jim Bob and Russel over to the Holiday Inn. The Cadillac was impossible to lose, even though the way Jim Bob drove you would have thought he was doing his best to get rid of us. But that damn Caddy stood out like a brushfire from six blocks ahead.

  “That bozo’s the private detective?” Ann asked.

  “You were expecting Mike Hammer or Jim Rockford?”

  “I was expecting someone who could read and write. That moron hasn’t got the sense to get out of the rain, let alone detect. He couldn’t find his ass with both hands and an ass map.”

  I laughed.

  “It isn’t funny,” Ann said, but she laughed a little. “He’s out to get our money and Russel is along for the ride. They’re both crazy, and we’re crazy as they are.”

  “Well, Jim Bob is peculiar.”

  “Peculiar. He’s a cracker. A redneck. A loony tune. Did you hear what he said, nigger shack. I hate that word, nigger. I despise it. This is not only crazy, the man we’re in with is a bigot.”

  “I didn’t choose their company because they’re such liberated, socially conscious individuals. I didn’t choose Russel at all, and Jim Bob sounded like a good idea at the time. If he’s a yo-yo, I won’t hire him.”

  “He considers himself hired, I think,” Ann said. “The Holiday Inn for headquarters? He must think we’ll put him up there. We don’t need a headquarters, and they can sleep in that red monstrosity he drives for a car. Did you see those baby shoes and the dice? Those silly curb feelers?”

  “You don’t criticize the blacks and the Mexicans for their dice and baby shoes,” I said, and wished I hadn’t said it. She didn’t speak to me all the rest of the way to the Holiday Inn.

  21

  We ate at the Holiday Inn restaurant, or rather Jim Bob did. The rest of us had tea and coffee and Ann had a slice of apple pie. Jim Bob ordered steak and baked potato and all the trimmings, and when he took his first bite of steak he waved the waitress over and told her, “Honey, take this cow on back and finish killing it. Set the little buddy on fire for about three more minutes then bring it back to me.”

  While Jim Bob waited on the steak, he and Russel talked about old times, and laughed. Ann and I felt a little limp, as if we had gone to the wrong party.

  When Jim Bob’s steak came back he thanked the waitress and ordered a Lone Star Light. “Got to watch my girlish figure,” and he w
ent at his food with gusto, saying, “Brain food.”

  “Then you better eat plenty of it,” Ann said.

  I looked at her. Russel looked at her. Jim Bob looked at her, and laughed. “Ain’t that the damned truth,” he said.

  “Pass that salad dressing. The one that looks like someone threw up in the bottle.”

  Ann looked at him blankly and passed the dressing. Well, Jim Bob wasn’t easy to insult, and I had a feeling that was because he’d had plenty of practice dodging catty remarks.

  “Now, what we have here,” Jim Bob said, “is a real strange situation. And whatever is going on, the cops are in on it. And I figure that new tan Ford that followed us from across the highway after we left that sleaze motel is a cop car, and the fella that parked it out in the lot and come in here when we did and is sitting over there drinking his twelfth cup of coffee and rereading the sports section for the third time is a cop. Cops and cop cars go together, as the little ole man said. Whatever you people have put your feet in, it’s deep stuff.”

  “You don’t know that’s a cop,” Ann said.

  “No, ma’am, I don’t. But I figure it is, and I figure pretty good. Wouldn’t have been in this line of work long as I have if I didn’t. And if you feel a little hostile to me, that’s all right, sister. I don’t blame you. I know Ben here, and after what he’s done you’re connecting me with him. We’re friends, but we’re separate, and what he did was a killing offense. I’d have killed him myself. But we’re past that. Ben was a little crazy, but now he’s right as rain, or as right as he gets. So we’re gonna work together, or let’s just get this over so I can take ole Ben back to Houston for a three-day drunk and see if I can get him a job somewhere. What say? We gonna work together or not?”

  “I didn’t say anything about any of that,” Ann said.

  “Well, you did and you didn’t. What’s it gonna be, Mr. and Mrs. Dane?”

  I looked at Ann.