Spin Out

by James Buchanan

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  Chapter 20

  Kabe jumped out of his truck as I pulled up in front of an orange monstrosity of a building. Every feature of Spanish architecture—patios, arches and a big ol’ bell tower—somehow made it onto the structure. A big sign painted in day-glow colors announced La Casita. The early lunch crowd didn’t dominate the parking lot yet. I gave it time, since it weren’t quite even half past eleven.

  I realized, at the moment I saw Kabe, I missed the sight of him something awful. He looked so fine. Right then Kabe wore a white hoodie sweatshirt under a red parka vest and a pair of ripped-up faded jeans. I didn’t know how the heck he kept himself warm like that. Well, I could guess, since I caught glimpses of his long-johns with their cookie pattern through the holes in his jeans. Folks didn’t want to look too close at the words scrawled on ‘em: bite me. I think I’d laughed myself to tears the first time he’d worn ‘em…and then I’d obliged by following instructions.

  Still, I weren’t none too happy about being here. There were about three hundred things that could get my butt handed to me on a platter with this stunt. Not the least of which was fudging how desperately low the copy paper supply was at the station, requiring someone to volunteer to run to the big office supply chain at the end of their shift.

  I growled out, “Alright, I came,” as I hauled myself out of my Explorer. “What’s so all important?” It had better be damn important—like the church on fire, important—for him to drag me down the mountain into somebody else’s jurisdiction…in uniform…in my patrol vehicle. We usually tried to play nice and give the other department fair warning and a chance to help out before stepping onto their patch of sand.

  Kabe stuck his hands in his back pockets and smirked from under his hoodie. “Two words.” He managed a smug shoulder roll before he drawled out. “Chris. Harris.”

  “What?” I couldn’t have heard him right.

  Yeah, the boy’s grin was nine kinds of pleased with himself. “I found Chris Harris for you.” I’d have bet, if’n I could have seen his eyes direct, they’d have been sparking with mischief.

  Alright, that was worth the half dozen 911 texts littering my phone’s memory. “Where?” ‘Course a little corner of myself went a little blue…I’d been hoping, maybe, there were other reasons he had to see me right then.

  “Here.” Kabe pointed at the pavement. “In Cedar. Steven’s party. He showed up with a couple other guys. He got pretty plowed, probably the first time in his life he’s been drinking, you know, like really drinking.” He laughed with a sound that was all satisfied with himself. “So I took him home.”

  My gut froze. “You took him home.” After our little talk yesterday, I kinda figured what he might mean by that. Cain’t say I liked the idea one bit.

  Kabe must’ve read the look on my face. “Fuck, Joe, not like that.” I don’t know whether he was more disgusted by the thought of it or by me thinking of that thought. “I am soooo not going to be the one to bring the new gay up to speed.” He added a shudder and a sour look to the over the top emphasis. “But the guys he came with were pretty skeevy. I was getting bored anyways.” He shrugged and started walking towards the door. “So I hauled his ass back to his skanky little apartment. Spent most of the night making sure he didn’t drown in the toilet while he puked. Wonderful way to spend Christmas morning, just saying.” He even pulled aside the hood so I wouldn’t miss the heavy dose of stink-eye he shot me on the heels of that comment.

  “Oh.” Took me a couple steps to catch up.

  Kabe stopped in the middle of the lot. “Look,” he huffed, “I recognized him, you know, from the photo I saw at the station. And when someone introduced him as Chris, I figured he had to be the guy from your file. Otherwise, I probably would have just let him learn on his own.” A roll of his eyes told me how much he’d put up with on my behalf. “But,” another huff layered on his frustration, “you know, the next morning while he nursed his hangover, we talked a little, he started telling me about where he came from…and at that point I knew it was him.” He flopped his wrist back and forth a couple of times as he started walking again. “Anyway, did manage to ferret out that he works here as a busboy. I don’t have to be to work until tomorrow so I thought I’d get you down here before I head back up.”

  The back half of that statement made me stop in my tracks. “You stayed in Cedar yesterday, last night.” Kicked my knees right out from under me with that. “I mean, you know, after everything?” I could barely swallow the fact that he’d rather drive down here than stick it out with me.

  Like it weren’t nothing he shrugged and scowled. “Yeah, hung out with Nadia the past few days. T’s house is overrun with all these cousins I don’t know. And most of them just aren’t comfortable with me being out.” That got me a wry smile. “So why make the holidays awkward for everyone.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway.” He grabbed the handle for the restaurant door. “Chris had his schedule on the fridge. Works here and is at work today.”

  “You could have told me the other day.” I grabbed the edge of the door as it swung open and followed him inside. “I could have just gone to his place.”

  Kabe crossed his arms tight over his chest and his mouth drew up into this tight little line. “Wasn’t in the mood to talk to you about that.”

  “You were just in the mood to come over and take a dig or two.” I hissed that out as quiet as I could. Probably would have gotten louder and madder if we hadn’t been in public and me in uniform. How much I needed to talk with Chris kept me from just walking away.

  He laughed…actually laughed. “Pretty much.”

  About that time a young lady dressed in black and wearing a name badge with the notation manager came ‘round the host station. “Two for lunch?” She fingered a cache of menus hung off the side.

  “No.” I gave her a big smile. “I’m actually looking for Chris Harris.”

  It took all of a second for her body language to go from welcoming to suspicious. “Why?”

  “He witnessed an accident.” I lied…a white one now and then didn’t hurt nobody. “I just need to do a follow up interview with him.” Figured that was better than him losing his job if it turned out he didn’t have nothing to do with the whole sorry mess of Lane’s death. “Sorry it has to be on your time.” Spread my hands out kinda helpless like.

  As she slid a suspicious glance over in Kabe’s direction, he smiled and jumped in. “I work for the insurance company. My day off.” He shrugged. “Told my boss, ‘okay,’ but I wasn’t about to put on the monkey suit just to witness a five minute interview.”

  The tightened up line of her mouth and the way she cocked her head to the side told me she weren’t quite buying the story. Lame didn’t equal the half of it. Still, she finally blew out a breath and shook her head. “I can send him on break.” She started walking and motioned for us to follow. “Back dining room isn’t open yet.” I think the uniform helped my cause. Most folks didn’t buck what an officer told them, even if their brain whispered something weren’t right. “You can use that.” She got us settled way in the back of the restaurant and then left us to get Chris, saying it’d be a few.

  I walked to the very back of the back and pointed at a seat in a booth. “Sit.”

  “What?” Kabe rolled his eyes.

  “Look, you ain’t supposed to be here for this.” I thought of a dozen things to say to him before settling on the truth. “I’m in enough hot water as it is. My boss likes me, but if he found out you listened in, he’d put my nuts in a vice.” When Kabe started to open his mouth, I actually reached up and covered it with my hand. “Seriously, boy. You got upset with me for not coming clean. Now I am on this. So you need to sit there and pretend to be part of the pattern in the wallpaper.” The glare he shot me over the top of my hand dripped with poison. “Look, my boss gets wind of this, it ain’t gonna be maybe Joe’s looking for a job selling cars, it’s gonna be you coming du
ring visiting hours and throwing a couple of bucks on my account so I can buy some candy bars at the jail store.”

  When I moved my hand away, Kabe asked, all quiet, “Really?”

  “Yes and no.” I stuck my thumb in my duty belt and tapped on the leather with my fingers. “With all I’ve got over my head, it might push him to have to make some choices about whether to stand with me or move on outta the way of the steam roller.” I heaved up a hard breath. “You understand?” Figured he must’ve because Kabe slid into the booth, slid to the back and slunk down low. He pulled out his phone, spared a glare for me over the edge of it and then started messing with it. Didn’t know if he texted or surfed or what and didn’t right care so long as he stayed out of my hair.

  I kinda wandered the room for a bit looking at the stuff on the walls, since there weren’t much else to look at. Big old metal suns, bright painted lizards and sombreros…looked like someone had raided every yard sale from here to creation to find all the stuff folks regretted hauling back to the states. Then they’d put it up on the walls. As I studied a velvet painting that could have been of either Jim Morrison or Jesus, wasn’t quite sure, I heard someone walk into the room.

  I turned as he mumbled, “Hi, Rebecca said you’re here about an accident.” The boy had his head down fussing with the strings on his busboy apron. “I don’t even have a car. I haven’t been in any acci…” The last word trailed off when he looked up and caught sight of me. Then he looked over towards where Kabe hunched in the booth. His eyes darn near bugged outta his head. Kabe didn’t do more than flick up his gaze, tilt his head and then delve back into messing with his phone. By the slack jawed state of Chris’ face, I think he recognized Kabe and thought my boy might have been hired to track him down.

  Like all the other boys, I’d memorized Chris Harris’ face. Brown eyes, brown hair weren’t nothing special, still he had a face so sharp I’d cut my tongue if I licked his jaw. No two ways about it, this was him. Kabe’d struck pay dirt even if I hadn’t hired him to. “No, Chris.” I smiled, but I knew it looked grim. “I’m here about what happened to Lane Walker. How he died.”

  He swallowed, hard, four or five times before stuttering out, “Oh. Oh wow. Shit.” Then he kinda caught himself. “When?”

  Decided to play things pretty middle of the road, since I wasn’t all sure whether he was antsy because of where I was from or because he had something to do with Lane’s death. “Right about the same time you skipped town.”

  Chris almost collapsed into one of the stray chairs. “Look, I really don’t know what happened to Lane.” The bright blue paint on his seat made how pale he’d gone seem even more like paste.

  “You sure about that?” I prodded.

  This scared, tired and hunted little animal took over his features. “Yeah.” His shoulders sagged. “I know what happened the last time I saw him, but I don’t know about anything that happened to him, you know,” even his voice sounded worn down to threads, “after that.”

  “No, I don’t know.” I kept standing and crossed my arms over my chest. Figured a little intimidation wouldn’t hurt none. “I’ve talked to Cooper and I’ve talked to Trey. Heck I even talked to Austin.” Spelling out who I’d interviewed might make him less likely to try and lie. “And I really don’t know what happened to Lane up there on that mountain.”

  He started running his fingernails along the inside seams of his jeans. “I mean I don’t really know,” Chris insisted. When I didn’t do nothing but stare back, he rushed out with, “Look the last time I saw Lane all of us were together racing dirt bikes in the mud.”

  “I know that.” That was the one consistent thing in all the stories. “Austin was there too, huh?” So far that was the stalking horse in all this…did Austin actually fit into the picture and, if so, how?

  Shaking his head, Chris corrected, “Not at first.” Those three words gave me a good inkling on who fed me a line and who I just might be able to trust. “We found Austin and started riding on him.” Again, it matched up with the one story of someone who sought me out rather than me having to hunt them down. “And then Lane gets all upset at Trey and everyone got to fighting.” His hands went limp between his knees. “There was this note.” He shrugged to punctuate the thought. “I guess maybe Austin was thinking about offing himself or something.” Even jumbled and confused, the story matched up to Austin’s version of events. “So when Austin got out of there…I realized I didn’t want to be there either, you know?”

  “Maybe.” My tone didn’t say whether I agreed with him or not. Mostly, I threw it in to keep him talking.

  Chris rubbed his face a few times with his hands, almost like he wanted to hide behind them. “Look, I took one of the bikes and took off after Austin. I think maybe to tell him I was sorry or something,” then his whole body slumped again, “but, you know, it could have been me there. I hated myself so much.” I hadn’t asked about that, but between what Kabe said and what I’d been through myself at Chris’ age, I had a fair idea of what he meant. “I kept thinking, maybe this will just go away if I pray hard enough. And I felt so bad making fun of Austin for being what I was.” Chris looked up at me like he searched my face for absolution. I couldn’t give him that. Not doing the job I had to do. Not finding any sympathy in my eyes, he shuddered. “I guess though, I sorta realized that if they found out…all of my friends, they’d turn on me, like they did on Austin. I mean, I don’t really think he is gay, but it was a way to be mean to him.”

  “Okay.” I said it more to just give the boy time to breathe. “So tell me what happened up on the mountain that day.”

  “Like I said, we got into this big old fight up there.” He laced his hands behind his head, his folded arms cradling the sides of his skull, and rocked in his seat. “It’d thawed some, so we were all muddy and crap from the bikes and fight. I don’t even remember exactly what happened, it was all going so fast. But Austin took off. Lane, Cooper, Trey and Alex are all shoving and punching.” Dropping his hands to his shoulders, Chris mumbled out, “So like I said, I grabbed the bike and took off after Austin. I didn’t catch him,” he added that in a whiny little child’s voice.

  That squared with Austin’s story and the evidence I had so far. “Alright, then what happened?”

  “Once Austin ditched me, I just kept going.” Chris stopped rocking and shook his head. “I didn’t want to go back.” Ghosts of the terror he must have felt wormed their way into his words. “I ran out of gas, so I’m walking and pushing the bike and Trey comes up alongside me in the truck. He’s like, ‘Get in!’ and I’m like, ‘No.’” Chris barked out the words of that conversation. “And then he starts yelling at me to ‘Get the fuck in the truck.’ And that’s when I kinda noticed that Lane wasn’t there with them.”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “No.” There weren’t many times I’d caught that level of sorrow offa someone I interviewed. Wasn’t sure whether Chris held it for himself, for Lane, or for not doing the right thing by either. “He wasn’t in the truck.” I though Chris might just puke right then…his pallor had gone green enough. “Cooper jumps out of the front and grabs the bike and he and Alex and I got it into the bed of the truck with the other bike. Alex was, like, white and all shaky.” Chris used his own hands to illustrate the shudders the other boy had going. “I get in the back of the truck with Alex. We’re sitting there and Trey’s driving and I’m not really paying attention to much. Just freaked out and not wanting to ask anything. And Cooper threw something out of the truck.”

  “What’d he throw?” My idea of what it was likely matched up to the reality, but I wanted Chris to tell me.

  “I don’t know.” That dashed my hopes for a nice poker to stick in the other boy’s sides. “I caught it out of the corner of my eye ‘cause I’m on Trey’s side of the truck and wasn’t really looking towards Cooper’s side.”

  Still, if I could find that rifle, I’d be set. “Remember where he threw it?”

  “Somewhere
along that road.” Another helpless shrug cut that rope. “I don’t remember exactly where.”

  Tried not to let disappointment cloud my voice. “Alright.”

  “And then I kinda looked over at Alex and saw that there’s all this reddish stuff mixed in with the mud on his jacket and jeans.” He wiped his hands over his belly and thighs as if to show me where. “And I know it’s wrong, but I’m thinking, oh God, what are they going to do to me. I didn’t even want to ask what happened to Lane.” Got the sense from those few words that Chris would hate himself for the rest of his life for not asking. “So we get to Lane’s house and nobody’s around.”

  Chris took to his feet and started pacing. “Trey and Cooper made me help them get Lane’s bike and put it behind the garage, like he’d come home or something.” He kept wiping his hands on his thighs like he wanted to rid them of muck. “They’ve got the same crap all over them. Alex is puking in the bushes. And Trey’s like, ‘Get back in the truck.’ And I’m like, ‘No, I’ll walk home.’” He stopped, turned and stared at me for a bit then shook his head. “Cooper pushed me into Trey’s truck. So we’re in the cab, all squished together…” He brought his clawed fingers up in front of his face and mushed them together. “Me, Trey and Cooper. Alex is in the back. And Trey says, ‘We ain’t gonna say nothing. We were up horsing around, we came home dropped Lane off and we ain’t seen him since.’ Cooper’s just nodding and repeating, ‘Okay, okay.’ And I think I said, ‘I don’t think I can do that.’ And Cooper, he says, if I know what’s good for me I will and that they’re going to make sure Alex does too.”

  He seemed to drop out of the story then—standing there in jeans streaked with grime and looking like Job facing yet another of Satan’s attacks. I almost wanted to give him peace at that point and walk away…but I couldn’t. “Go on.”

  Took him awhile, even after my prompt, before he could marshal himself enough to continue. “We got to Trey’s and the three of them start stripping off their muddy clothes.” Chris rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and bit his lower lip. “And Alex is whining that his mom’s gonna kill him if he comes home without his clothes. Trey gives some of his little brother’s stuff and says, ‘Just tell her you fell riding and got ripped up.’ Cooper’s grabbing the stuff and says he’s gonna take it to the mill and burn it in the incinerator there, he’ll sneak it in and figure it out. That’s when I went home. And Trey’s like, ‘If you tell anyone, you’ll regret it.’”