The Cold Kiss

by John Rector

  She didn’t say anything, just cried for a long time.

  I tried to tell her it was the only option and that we had to see the plan through to the end.

  “This was never the plan.”

  “I know,” I said. “But it’s too late to go back.”

  She looked at me but didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. It really was too late to go back. Our only chance was to pay Zack and hope for the best.

  We got up and I pulled the mattress off the bed. I opened Syl’s suitcase and counted out the cash, then looked around for something to put it in. While I was looking, I noticed the Bible sitting out on the nightstand. I figured Sara must’ve taken it out of the drawer. I started to ask her about it, then changed my mind. It was her business.

  I took one of the pillows off the bed and stripped the case, then I dropped the money inside.

  “What if he finds out?”

  “Finds out about what?”

  “About the money,” Sara said. “What if he finds out how much is really here?”

  “He’s not going to find out,” I said. “We’re the only ones who know, and we’re not going to tell him.”

  “I don’t like this, Nate.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Neither do I.”

  26

  I knocked on Zack’s door and heard him shuffling inside. I waited, then knocked again.

  “Who is it?”

  I told him.

  The door opened less than an inch. He looked out at me, then disappeared. A moment later the door swung open.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I held up the pillowcase.

  He looked at it then at me. “Is that it?”

  “That’s it.”

  He moved out of the doorway and I went inside.

  The smell, chemical clean and poison sweet, made my eyes water. I was about to say something, then I saw the carbon-stained glass pipe on the nightstand by the bed, and I knew for sure what was going on.

  “I thought you said—”

  I stopped myself.

  Zack had lied to me, but it didn’t matter. As long as he did his part tonight, I didn’t care what else he did. There was no point in creating more tension.

  Zack was staring at the pillowcase. His eyes were dilated solid black and there were thin beaded lines of sweat on his skin.

  “You okay?” I asked. “Are you still up for this?”

  “Let me see the money,” Zack said. “Show me.”

  I handed him the pillowcase. He sat on the bed and didn’t say anything for a while, then he reached in and took out one of the wrapped bundles of cash and fanned his thumb over the edge of the bills.

  “Damn, you weren’t lying.”

  “Did you think I was?”

  Zack shook his head. “No, I had faith in you, Nate.”

  He turned the bag over and dumped the money out on the bed then laughed, quiet.

  “I wouldn’t mind another drink,” I said. “Help yourself.”

  I got up and walked over to the utility kitchen and found the glass I’d used earlier. I rinsed it out at the sink then looked around for the bottle.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “Cabinet.”

  I opened the cabinet then grabbed the bottle and filled my glass halfway. It was more than I needed, but it’d been a tiring twenty-four hours.

  I came back and sat on the chair by the table and watched Zack pick up each bundle and run his fingers over the bills. He was smiling. His teeth looked like charcoal candy corn.

  “Tonight, right?”

  Zack looked up. “What about it.”

  “Syl,” I said. “Tonight.”

  At first, it didn’t seem to register, then his eyes cleared and he said, “Our snowman, right.” He turned back to the bills. “I didn’t know that was his name.”

  I was pretty sure I’d told him Syl’s name when I’d gone over what’d happened, but maybe I was wrong.

  I lifted the glass and took a drink, then said, “Tell me something?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Were you the one who pulled him out of the ravine?” Zack looked up at me. A second later he smiled then said, “Yes and no.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I didn’t pull him out of the ravine, but I did drag him out of the field.” Zack looked back at the money and started stacking the bills. “I waited until the storm broke then wandered out to see what you were up to. I found him about a hundred yards in. It looked like he’d gone most of the way himself before he dropped.”

  “Why leave him? Why not take him inside?”

  “Then what?” Zack shook his head. “I probably should’ve left him where I found him, but I didn’t, and it wasn’t until I got almost all the way back that I started having second thoughts.” He looked at me. “But, what’s done is done. Now we move on.”

  He was right.

  I didn’t like it, but he was right.

  I took another drink then said, “How are you going to do it?”

  Zack opened the pillowcase and started putting the money back inside.

  “Zack?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m thinking.”

  I let him think, then when he had the money put away I said, “We should figure this out.”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  “I think you should.”

  He ignored me. “Something not obvious by looking at him. At least not right away.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, Nate, but God will show me what path to take.”

  “What about the pillow? Isn’t that what you said?”

  He looked at me and smiled. “You don’t need to worry. When you wake up in the morning, it’ll be over.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am right,” Zack said. “It’s as good as done.”

  Sara and I spent the rest of the afternoon in our room. We packed all the bags and I set them next to the door. Then we waited.

  I spent most of the time at the window, staring out at the parking lot and the fields in the distance. The snow was falling again, but not like the night before. This time it came slow, delicate, like an easy dream.

  Any other time and it would’ve been beautiful.

  “What are you looking for?” Sara asked.

  There was a dead fly lying on its back in the windowsill. I stared at it for a moment then let the curtain close.

  “Nate?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “The plows, I guess.”

  “You’ll hear them when they come.”

  “I want to be prepared.”

  Sara didn’t say anything else.

  I sat at the table and time passed.

  “Do you think Zack’s really going to do it?”

  I told her he was.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because of the way he looked when he saw that money,” I said. “He’s not going to turn it over to the police.”

  “What if he doesn’t follow through? Then what?”

  “He’ll follow through.”

  “But what if he doesn’t?”

  “You’re borrowing trouble.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re thinking of all the bad things that can happen and you’re focusing on them. It’s not helping.”

  Sara was silent. She didn’t move.

  I watched her out of the corner of my eye, hoping for something, but she just stared at me. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I looked at her and said, “What?”

  There were tears on her cheeks.

  I moved to the bed and held her until she stopped shaking, then I said, “We’re going to be fine.”

  “None of this is turning out how I thought it would.”

  “It can still work,” I said.

  Sara nodded.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  I told her I didn’t believe her.

  “You’ll just get mad.”

&nb
sp; “It depends on what you say.”

  “The money,” she said. “I don’t want it anymore.”

  “What?”

  “Things are different now,” she said. “Before we thought he was sick and that he just died. Somehow that seemed okay. Now, with Zack involved, we’re going to be murderers.”

  I started to deny it, but for some reason, hearing her say it like that made it real. Even though we weren’t going to be the ones who actually killed him, we were going to be just as guilty.

  “You want to back out.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “We can give the suitcase to Zack, or dump it somewhere for someone else to find.”

  “Sara—”

  “It doesn’t matter what we do with it,” she said. “Once it’s gone, we can pretend none of this ever happened. We can go back to our old life.”

  “No, we can’t,” I said. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there’s nothing there to go back to.”

  Sara stared at me, silent.

  “What do you think I’m going to be able to do for us, or for the baby?” I ran my hand over the scar on the side of my head. “I can’t get a decent job with my record. We’ll never have money.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me.” I paused. “What kind of father do you think I’m going to be?”

  “You’ll be a great father.”

  “I wasn’t to Vincent,” I said. “Look at the job I did with him.”

  “You weren’t his father.”

  “I was the closest thing he had to one.”

  “Nate, don’t do this, please—”

  “We can use this money to start off right. It might be my only chance to do something good for this kid.” I looked away. “Without it, there’s nothing.”

  “There’s us.”

  “Not enough.”

  She watched me for a long time without saying anything, then she moved close and kissed me, soft and slow. “Do you love me?”

  I told her I did.

  “Then we’ll be fine.”

  We stayed like that for a while, then she added, “And you’re going to be a great father.”

  It was what she was supposed to say, and even though I didn’t agree, I didn’t argue. She loved me too much to see it any other way, and I knew enough not to try and convince her otherwise.

  She’d figure it out eventually.

  When it came to love, everyone always did.

  27

  I was back at the window watching the snow gather in the parking lot and thinking about Zack. Sara was sitting on the bed. She’d found a deck of cards and was practicing dealing blackjack, preparing for the future.

  It was a good sign.

  “I can’t be in here anymore.” Sara stacked the cards then set them on the nightstand. “I’m losing my mind. I have to get out of here.”

  “The roads are still—”

  “This room, Nate. I have to get out of this room.” She walked to the table and grabbed her jacket. “I need to eat something. I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the office. They might have something there.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I know what I’m doing.”

  I got up and reached for my coat.

  “You don’t have to come,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

  But I went anyway.

  I thought the fresh air might do us good.

  Sara saw her first.

  The woman was standing alone at the edge of the playground and staring out at the field and the single cottonwood in the distance.

  “Who is that?”

  I stopped walking and looked back. When I saw her, I felt my stomach twist. For an instant, I couldn’t speak.

  “Nate, who is—”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  We stood and watched her, then she turned and walked toward the right side of the playground.

  “It’s Caroline,” I said.

  “What is she doing?”

  My heart was beating double time, and all I could do was shake my head.

  “Do you think she’s okay?” Sara asked. “Does she need help?”

  “She’s fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  I turned and kept walking toward the office.

  Sara followed.

  It was unsettling to see Caroline out there, standing in that spot. It was too familiar, too coincidental, and something about it burned in the back of my mind.

  I told myself she was tired of being inside, just like us, and she needed to get out and walk, even if it was through the snow. It sounded possible and I mentioned it to Sara, even though I didn’t believe it myself.

  She didn’t believe it either, and by the time we got to the office, I could tell she was starting to worry.

  “What was she doing out there?”

  “Walking.”

  “But why that spot?”

  “You’re doing it again.” I did my best to sound calm. “Let it go.”

  Sara frowned, but she stopped talking.

  I opened the door and we stepped inside.

  The air in the office was hot, and I could hear Syl moaning in the other room. We followed the sound.

  “Where is everyone?”

  The room was empty except for Syl on the floor by the fireplace. He was twitching under the blanket like a giant yellow worm. As I got closer, I saw that the skin on his face had dried and begun to peel away in thin, dead gray strips.

  “Who’s supposed to be in here?” Sara asked. “What happens if he wakes up and needs something?

  I looked at her. She seemed to realize what she was saying and she turned away.

  “Are you sure you can handle this?”

  She nodded.

  “Why don’t you wait in the other room. I’ll look for something to eat.”

  “No.”

  “It might be easier.”

  “Let’s just grab something and go.”

  We looked around, but we didn’t find much.

  There were individual packets of oyster crackers on the counter and some instant oatmeal. We put the crackers in our pockets and left the oatmeal behind.

  “I wish there was fruit around here,” Sara said. “I’d kill for an apple.”

  Behind us, Syl coughed then said, “No, I don’t know.”

  We both turned around.

  Syl’s eyes were closed.

  A second later he coughed again, then he was silent.

  Sara didn’t look away from him until I reached out and touched her arm.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go back.”

  “We should stay until someone shows up.”

  “Sara.”

  “It’ll make me feel better.”

  So we did.

  A few minutes later we heard the bells above the office door, then Marcus came into the dining room.

  When he saw us, he stopped. “Hello, Nate.”

  I motioned to Sara and introduced her.

  “Caroline’s husband,” I said.

  Marcus had a hardcover book under his arm. He set it on a table then unzipped his coat. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “We didn’t think anyone was in here,” Sara said.

  “I ran back for my book.” Marcus pointed at Syl. “Our friend here isn’t much of a conversationalist. Megan was here for a while. Did you see her on your way over?”

  “We saw Caroline,” I said.

  Marcus frowned. “Yes, I know. Was Butch with her?”

  “I didn’t see him,” I said. “Is she okay?”

  “Bored. At least I hope that’s what it is. She’s taking all of this rather seriously.”

  “All of what?”

  “This,” Marcus said. “Our friend over there.” He paused. “She can’t seem to come to terms with the fact that we’re stuck ou
t here, and now she’s acting like Miss Marple, out trying to solve a quaint Midwestern murder.”

  “He’s not dead,” Sara said.

  “That’s right.” Marcus pointed a finger at her. “You and I can see that, but for some reason it’s lost on her. And now with someone going around breaking into people’s rooms, Butch is all worked up, too. They’re a regular Holmes and Watson.”

  “Someone’s room got broken into?”

  Marcus tapped his finger against his chest. “Just my room and Butch’s place. Nothing was taken, but things were thrown around.” He pointed toward the door. “If you ask me, it’s his own damn nephew doing it. That kid isn’t right.”

  “Why is Caroline outside?”

  “No idea,” Marcus said. “She insists she knows what’s going on. Didn’t say what she knows or how she found out, but she seems serious. It’s damn silly, if you ask me.”

  I felt Sara tense up next to me.

  I pretended not to notice.

  “It’s easy to let your imagination run wild out here,” I said. “Especially in this situation.”

  “Caroline doesn’t need much help in that regard.”

  “At least she’s keeping herself busy.”

  Marcus pointed toward Syl. “He’s been talking a lot more. It’s all nonsense to me, but maybe he said something to her that clicked.”

  “She didn’t tell you anything at all?” Sara asked.

  “Not a word,” Marcus said. “When I showed up, she just grabbed her coat and ran out. And to be honest, I’ve learned not to ask. I know there’s no talking to her when she’s like that.”

  Sara and I looked at each other.

  Marcus sighed then picked up his book and sat at the table by the fireplace. “Sometimes, I just don’t get that woman.” He shook his head. “Damn silly.”

  28

  We carried the food back to our room then locked the door behind us. The first thing I did was slide the mattress off the bed and check the suitcase.

  It was still there.

  “What are you doing?” Sara asked.

  “Making sure no one’s been in here.”

  Sara leaned against the wall then opened a package of crackers and ate them one at a time. She didn’t look at me, and neither of us said a word.

  I pushed the mattress back in place.

  Outside, the wind was picking up, and occasionally it would slam against the building and rattle the windows. Every time it did, Sara would jump. When I noticed her hands shaking, I figured I should say something.