The Cold Kiss

by John Rector

  “Don’t be upset,” I said. “Everything’s going to work out. Caroline doesn’t know anything.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You’re worried.”

  “Doesn’t mean I want to discuss it.”

  I watched her for a while then got up and grabbed my coat off the chair.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Outside.”

  “What for?”

  I took my cigarettes from my pocket and showed her.

  She stared at them then turned back to her crackers.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “There’s nothing to say,” she said. “Things are the way they are. It’s too late to say anything.”

  “You said we could ride this out.”

  “I know what I said.”

  “We can still do it.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “You don’t?”

  “I think this isn’t going to end well,” Sara said. “Not as long as we have that money.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “That money is cursed.”

  My first instinct was to yell at her.

  The flash of anger was so strong and came so fast that it shocked me into silence, and that was a good thing.

  I turned and unlocked the door.

  “Hold on,” Sara said. “Don’t go yet.”

  “I’m not getting rid of the money.”

  “Nate, I—”

  I told her again, louder this time.

  “I’m not getting rid of the money.”

  Sara looked at me. “We could lose everything.”

  “We don’t have anything.”

  “We have each other,” she said. “And we have the baby. That’s all that matters.”

  I didn’t speak.

  “Jesus, Nate, you could go back to prison.”

  “I’m not going back to prison.”

  “You could if Zack goes through with—”

  “I’m not going back to prison, no matter what.”

  Sara looked like she had more to say, but instead she got up and came to me and buried her head against my chest and stayed like that for a long time.

  Eventually, she pulled back and looked up at me.

  “All I want is you. Do you know that?”

  I told her I did.

  “The money isn’t important unless I have you.”

  “Not right now,” I said. “But in a few years, when you’ve had me around for a while, you’ll think it’s important and you’ll wonder about what could’ve been.”

  She looked up at me and smiled, but it never touched her eyes. “You don’t know me at all, do you?”

  I leaned against the side of the building and smoked my cigarette. The snow was falling hard, and heavy gray clouds settled low over everything.

  Somewhere in the distance, I heard a door shut.

  I went to the end of the walkway and looked out at the office. Caroline and Butch were walking up the path toward our building. I wasn’t surprised to see them.

  I watched until they got close then I dropped my cigarette in the snow and waited.

  “Nate,” Caroline said. “You got a minute?”

  I told her I did, then added, “How’s the detective work coming?”

  She didn’t understand.

  I explained my conversation with Marcus.

  Caroline frowned. “I’m glad he sees the humor in all of this, and you, too.”

  I told her it was a joke and tried to laugh it off, but she didn’t care. I invited them inside, out of the cold.

  “This won’t take long,” she said. “We can talk out here.”

  I took another cigarette from my pocket then lit it and said, “It’s up to you.”

  Butch was staring at my lighter, frowning.

  I remembered the matches and said, “Found it in my bag. I didn’t need those matches after all.”

  Caroline looked at Butch then back at me. “You were the last to arrive last night, right?”

  “I don’t know about that, but we got in late, sure.”

  “Do you remember seeing any other cars on the road?”

  I told her I didn’t.

  “How about anyone walking?”

  “Megan already asked me all this,” I said. “You want to know if I saw him out in the storm.”

  Caroline waited for me to answer.

  “If I’d seen him, I would’ve picked him up.”

  “So, you didn’t.”

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t see anyone.”

  Caroline looked at Butch and something unsaid passed between them.

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “We’re asking everyone,” Butch said. “Not just you.”

  “But you’re suspicious of me.”

  “We’ve had some problems around here today,” Caroline said. “And I’m afraid your name keeps coming up.”

  “I’m not the one going through people’s rooms,” I said. “I’ve been inside with Sara all day.”

  “Marcus told you about that, too?”

  I told her he had, then looked at Butch and said, “He thinks it’s your nephew. Did you start with him?”

  Butch shook his head. “It’s not Zack.”

  “And it’s not just the rooms, Nate,” Caroline said. “Butch told me he caught you behind the front desk this morning. Now he’s missing all your personal information from last night when you checked in.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  The both stared at me, then Caroline said, “And then there’s the man dying back there in the office.”

  I waited.

  “He knows your name. Can you explain why?”

  I shook my head. “I helped carry him inside. Maybe he heard my name and remembered it.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s been saying a lot more,” Caroline said. “He mentioned money and a woman named Lilith. Do you know anything about that?”

  “I don’t know anything about any of this,” I said. “What exactly are you accusing me of doing?”

  “We’re not accusing you of anything,” Butch said.

  “Then maybe it’s a good idea if we stop talking before you do.” I took one last drag off my cigarette then tossed it into the snow. “I’m heading over to the office in a little while to take my turn, unless you don’t want my help anymore.”

  Caroline looked at me and I saw her eyes soften. “I don’t know, Nate. Maybe I am taking all of this too seriously. If so, then I apologize.”

  Butch started to say something but didn’t.

  “I’ll come by the office later and we’ll play some cards,” Caroline said. “We’ll see if you’re as bad as you say you are.”

  I lied and told her I’d like that, then I turned back toward my room.

  Butch stopped me.

  “I need to get all your information again.” He reached into his pocket and took out the notebook. “Before you leave.

  “I’ll give it to you when I get over to the office,” I said. “I want to get back inside before Sara starts wondering what happened to me.”

  I could tell Butch didn’t like the idea, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, they told me to say hello to Sara then they turned and started back toward the office.

  I didn’t stick around to watch them go.

  29

  I didn’t say anything to Sara when I went inside, and she didn’t say anything to me until she saw me take the gun out of the nightstand drawer and check the clip.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Being safe,” I said.

  “Nate, I don’t think—”

  “I’m not asking for your opinion.”

  She didn’t say anything else.

  I slid the gun under the back of my belt then went into the bathroom and ran the water hot in the sink. My face felt numb from the cold, and the water stung when it touched my skin. B
ut it cleared my head.

  Things were falling apart, and I could feel myself slipping. Even if Syl died tonight, there would still be questions, and all eyes would be on me.

  The pain behind my eyes was strong.

  I turned off the water and went out into the room. My pills were on the nightstand next to the Bible. I opened the bottle and tapped three into my palm and swallowed them dry, then I motioned to the Bible and said, “What’s with this?”

  Sara looked then shook her head and said, “Nothing.”

  “Why do you have it out?”

  “I don’t know. It helps, I guess.”

  “You’re going to wind up just like your mother.”

  Sara was quiet for a moment, then she said, “Do you believe in God, Nate?”

  “I don’t know what I believe.”

  “We’ve never talked about it.”

  “We’ve got bigger things to worry about now.”

  Sara looked at me and frowned. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “About the money,” she said. “You are, I can tell.”

  “Not now, Sara.”

  “Are you still going to let Zack do this?”

  “It’s not my choice,” I said. “He’s involved now, and he’s going to do it whether I want him to or not.”

  Sara looked down. “I can’t believe this.”

  Part of me wanted to laugh and part of me wanted to scream at her. There was a voice in the back of my mind asking me what I’d expected from her, that she was just a kid and all of this was my fault for listening to her.

  If we’d never given him a ride, none of this would’ve happened. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine for not being man enough to say no.

  I pushed the voice away then slipped my coat on and opened the door.

  “Nate, wait, please.”

  I stopped and looked back.

  She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

  “I’ll be careful,” I said.

  Sara nodded, and I walked out.

  “She came to see you, didn’t she?” Marcus asked.

  I told him she did.

  “And she got to you, too. I can tell.” He laughed then placed his bookmark between the open pages of his book and closed it on the table. “Don’t let her ruffle you. It’s just the way she is.”

  “What way is that?”

  “She’s a bully, or didn’t you notice?”

  “Hard not to notice.”

  Marcus smiled. “She’s like that with everyone. Ask our mailman or the guy who comes over and fixes our pipes. Hell, ask anyone she comes in contact with. The woman is a bully, plain and simple.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I motioned toward Syl. “How’s he doing? Still talking?”

  “Not a peep,” Marcus said. “Between you and me, I don’t think he’s going to last the night.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Is it?” Marcus shook his head. “Look at the guy. I wouldn’t want to live like that, would you?”

  I stepped closer to Syl and saw the puffed skin and black blisters covering his face. I turned away and said, “No, I guess not.”

  Marcus and I talked for bit longer, then he put his coat on and stuck his book under his arm and said, “I’m going to get some sleep. Sorry again about Caroline.”

  I told him it was fine.

  “Be happy you get to drive away from her,” he said. “Think about my life.”

  We both laughed, then he waved back over his shoulder and walked out of the dining room and into the office. A second later, the bells over the front door chimed.

  I was alone with Syl.

  I sat for a long time and listened to the wind press against the side of the building. When the fire started to burn down, I got up and grabbed another log off the pile then used the poker to open the spark screen. I set the log on top of the coals, and a few minutes later the fire was burning strong.

  I looked down at Syl and heard a slow rattle of breath in his chest. He didn’t move.

  I thought about what Marcus had said about Syl not making it through the night. If he was right then Zack wouldn’t have to do anything. We could wait it out.

  The problem was getting Zack to agree.

  I could talk to him, but I didn’t think he’d listen.

  And what if Syl didn’t die? He’d already survived the storm and a gunshot. What if he survived this, too?

  In the end, I decided it was better to be safe and let Zack handle it. I thought it would be better for everyone, including Syl. All I had to do was stay out of the way.

  I walked back to the table and reached for Caroline’s cards. I took them out and shuffled them then laid out a game of solitaire. For a while, it took my mind off everything, and that was good. Zack wasn’t coming for a few more hours, so I had time to think. If I got lucky, Syl would give up and go quietly in his sleep before Zack arrived.

  If I got lucky.

  I put a black queen on a red king then moved a red eight to a black nine. I felt good, but in the end I lost the game. I played again, but lost that one, too.

  Eventually, I got tired and I put the cards away then leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes.

  I don’t know how long I was like that, but when I opened them again, the room was completely dark except for a carpet of red coals smoldering in the fireplace.

  I got up and grabbed a couple logs off the pile then dropped them both on the coals. When I turned and reached for the poker, I noticed Syl was sitting up.

  I made a sharp sound in the back of my throat and jumped away. I stood for a moment, staring at him, then the wood popped in the fireplace and caught fire, spilling a dancing yellow light into the room.

  Syl’s blanket had fallen off his chest and settled around his waist. I could see the bandage on his side, as well as several scars along his shoulders and chest. Some were thicker and longer than others, but each one looked bad, painful-bad.

  I stepped closer.

  Syl had his hands out in front of him, and he was staring down at his black fingers. He didn’t seem to notice me.

  I reached for a bottle of water on the table and unscrewed the cap and held it out to him.

  He looked up, saw me, saw the water.

  I moved it toward his mouth and helped him drink.

  He took two swallows and coughed, heavy and deep. Blood flew from his mouth and covered my hand and ran down his chin. When he finished coughing, I held the bottle out to him again, but he shook his head.

  I set it on the table.

  He went back to staring at his hands, and he didn’t speak for a long time. When he finally did, he looked up at me and said, “Where is she?”

  His voice was thin, broken.

  I noticed I’d been holding my breath.

  I let it out, said, “Who?”

  “Lilith,” he said. “Where is she?”

  “She’s not here,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  Syl ignored me then looked past me toward the door. “She’s here, I saw her here. Standing in the dark.”

  He was shaking, and I reached out and touched his shoulder. At first I didn’t think he was going to calm down, but after a while I started to feel the tension ease away and his breathing slow.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Syl lowered his head and a long trail of saliva dropped into his lap.

  “Do you need anything?” I asked.

  Syl held up his hands. “What’s this?”

  I looked closer and saw Syl’s hands in the firelight.

  All the fingers on his right hand had been twisted and snapped at the middle knuckle, and each of them bent out at a different angle.

  For a second, I couldn’t find my voice.

  I tried to remember if his fingers had been broken when we’d brought him inside, but I didn’t know for sure.

  I remembered watching Megan take off his clothes and wrap him in the blankets, but not his fingers.
<
br />   I told myself Megan would’ve noticed, and she would’ve said something. But she hadn’t.

  Someone had gotten to him.

  Which meant someone knew.

  I sat back and tried to stay calm.

  I wasn’t ready to believe it, and I did my best to convince myself that he’d broken them coming out of the field, and I’d just overlooked it. It was the only explanation I’d accept, and after a while I started to believe it was true.

  Syl asked again what had happened.

  I leaned forward and told him about the frostbite, but I could tell it wasn’t registering.

  When I finished, he asked again.

  He was in shock.

  I told him again.

  There were several long gray strips of skin hanging from his cheeks and wavering in the air like cobwebs. I tried not to look at them.

  I told him about the storm and about the motel.

  As I talked, Syl kept looking at his hands, turning them over. Every time he took a breath, his chest buzzed like a chorus of flies.

  When I finished, we were both quiet for a long time. I watched Syl sway gently in front of the fire. I thought about asking him if he wanted more water.

  Instead, I said, “Can you hear me?”

  Syl let his hands drop to his lap, then he looked up at me. In the firelight, the whites of his eyes looked deep red, as if filled with blood.

  “Yeah, kid,” he said. “I can hear you.”

  30

  “I don’t blame you,” Syl said. “But this is a hell of a way to wind up.”

  “Syl, what happened to your fingers?”

  He looked at me like he didn’t understand then down at his hands and said, “She did.”

  “Who?”

  “Lilith,” he said. “She wanted the money.”

  I looked away. “And what did you tell her?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  I frowned. He was obviously delirious, and there was no point in trying to get an answer. With Syl, everything seemed to circle back around to Lilith.

  Syl coughed and a thick trail of blood came out of his nose and ran over his lips and dripped onto the blanket.

  He didn’t seem to notice.

  “You know you won’t be able to keep it.”