Corrupted Memory

by Ray Daniel

  Bobby turned. “Who? Me?”

  “It sure isn’t Jael.”

  “Why am I an asshole?”

  “I figured out why you wanted to get me to the house to look at JT.”

  Bobby twisted in his bucket seat. “What are you talking about?”

  “You thought that JT and I were working together!”

  “I did not.”

  “You absolutely did, you asshole.”

  “If you call me an asshole one more time, I swear I’m going to give you more stitches.”

  Jael said, “You two must discuss this later. I am driving.”

  I said, “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me that you didn’t send me that picture of JT to see how I’d react.”

  “Hey, it worked. That picture got you down there pretty quick.”

  “I knew it! You are an asshole. The only reason that picture got me down there was that JT looked just like my father.”

  “I know that now.”

  “So what did you think then, huh? Did you think that JT and I were stealing Paladin secrets?”

  Bobby glanced at Jael, back at me. “You shut up about that. That’s classified.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I’m serious. You shut up.”

  “You shut up, you fucking asshole.”

  Bobby reached for me, but I stayed back in my seat.

  Jael said, “I will stop this car.”

  Bobby said, “Well, he started it.”

  I muttered, “Asshole.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Jael said, “I am going to turn this car around. Do you want me to do that?”

  Bobby and I were silent.

  Jael continued, “We cannot go into a dangerous situation with you two fighting.”

  I said, “Well, it pisses me off that he thought I was a spy.”

  Jael said, “Agent Miller was doing his job. He cannot let friendship get in the way of that.”

  Bobby said, “Thank you, Jael.”

  I said, “Sure, take his side.”

  Jael said, “There are no sides. We are all on the same side.”

  Bobby asked, “Tucker, what’s wrong with you?”

  I crossed my arms. “Nothing.” Images of my mother and her knife flashed before me. I pushed them out of the way. “There’s nothing wrong.”

  “Because, I mean, fuck Patterson, you know? We don’t have to do this. Let him wander around his fucking field and call you back. We shouldn’t have agreed to meet there.”

  “You mean I shouldn’t have agreed to meet there. Sorry. I screwed that up too.” There was a lump in my throat. I’m losing my mind. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I folded my crossed arms more deeply, the corners of my mouth turned down.

  Bobby said, “You didn’t screw anything up. Look, Tucker, I’m sorry. You’re right, I was investigating JT. When he got killed in front of your house, I was afraid you were involved.”

  “Thanks for the trust.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with trust. It’s just my job. I get lied to all the time. I check everything. It’s what I have to do. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you more that night in front of your house. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you to just take off and drive Lucy home.”

  “Fine.”

  “I mean it, dude. You’re a good guy. You don’t deserve any of this.”

  The lump was back in my throat, my lower lip jutted out of its own accord.

  Bobby asked, “You okay?”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I was not okay.

  “You want to head home? We don’t have to do this.”

  “No,” I said. “I want to hear what Patterson has to say. I want to know what’s going on.”

  Jael drove on. I sat in the back, closed my eyes, and replayed my dinner with my mother. There was no other conclusion: I had fucked that up. If Lee wanted to empty her house, I should just let that be between them. I owed her an apology. I decided to apologize the next time I saw her.

  The apology never happened.

  Forty-Three

  Jael’s GPS took us off the Mass Pike at Route 84, as if we were going to New York. We exited almost immediately onto Route 20, the same highway that held GDS and Lotus Blossom. It seemed as if my whole world could be reduced to Route 20 and the Mass Pike. Jael wound her way through dark two-lane country roads with no streetlights.

  I looked out the window at the dark woods. “Can we talk about what we’re going to do out here?”

  “Yeah,” said Bobby. “How do we want to handle this?”

  Jael said, “The meeting is at ten o’clock. I want to be in place by eight thirty. I would have preferred to arrive in the daylight, but we will have to make do.”

  I asked, “Why are we getting there so early?”

  “To make sure that someone has not set up an ambush before us. It is difficult to approach a hiding place in the woods without making noise. The person who arrives first has an advantage.”

  Bobby said, “There’s three of us. That could be an advantage.”

  “I do not think so. Three people make three times as much noise. If I were in those woods with my rifle and scope, I could easily kill five men before they found me.”

  Bobby said, “Well then, let’s be glad that you’re on our side.”

  I asked, “What will we do for an hour and a half?”

  “We will wait and we will watch. We will not talk.”

  Jael’s GPS led us to smaller and smaller roads. Two-lane roads with yellow lines and guardrails became one-lane roads with only guardrails, and these became one-lane roads where the woods edged right up to the asphalt. Jael parked on one of these small roads. She made no move to get out of the car. We sat as the car clicked and cooled.

  “What are we doing?” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” said Bobby. “What are we doing?”

  “We are letting our eyes adjust to the dark. We are going to be walking through the woods. Our flashlights will make us obvious. It is another reason I wish we had gotten here during daylight.”

  We adjusted for another minute, and then Jael popped the trunk, went around to the back, and hoisted out a rifle and three flashlights. The flashlights had red filters over their lenses. Jael had a smaller GPS in her pocket. She consulted it, and we headed off down the road, Jael carrying her rifle and Bobby his shotgun. I considered picking up a rock.

  There were houses at the end of the road. Farmhouses? They sat on the right, with a broad driveway that led to a home and a garage. The nearest home had blue television light playing behind closed curtains. The garage was dark. We sidled past the houses, through the road’s dead end, and straight into the woods.

  The woods were not as black as I had expected. Partially, it was due to my eyes adjusting to the dark. In addition, somebody had lit the clearing near the highway with a ghostly white light.

  Bobby whispered, “What is that light?”

  Jael whispered, “I wonder if we are too late.”

  I said nothing. The light unnerved me. It didn’t seem normal to have this white light shining in the middle of the woods. Don’t walk toward the light! The woods smelled damp, and our feet crunched over thin loam and fallen leaves. It was September. The leaves on the ground would soon be joined by their brethren overhead. The cars on the Mass Pike whooshed past. The sound reminded me of my mother’s house. Don’t you ever come back! Depression drained my energy. I pushed it aside. I didn’t have the luxury of feeling sorry for myself.

  As we reached the edge of the clearing, Jael touched my arm and put her finger to her lips. We stopped and waited, listening for any sounds other than cars. There was no wind. The woods were silent. After about fifteen minutes, we moved forward into the clearing. I felt like Bambi being led into
The Meadow. Was Man in the woods? My shoulders hunched in anticipation of a rifle shot as we approached the white statue in the middle of a manicured lawn.

  She stood about three feet tall, her pedestal adding another two feet. A small spotlight lit her from below. This was the ghostly light I had seen through the trees. Flowers grew at her feet and bushes framed her. The combination created an eerie shrine.

  Bobby said, “It’s the Madonna.”

  Jael said, “Who?”

  I said, “Jesus Christ’s mother.”

  Jael said, “I thought Jesus was Israeli. She does not look Israeli.”

  “What?”

  Jael said, “She looks European.”

  Bobby said, “Have you seen the paintings? So does Jesus. Let’s get out of this fucking field.”

  I said, “Nice language in front of the Madonna.”

  Bobby asked, “What is she doing here?”

  “She seems to be monitoring the traffic.”

  The Madonna stood between us, her arms extended in prayer, blessing, or supplication. I felt like an intruder, as if this spot was too holy for a meeting with some guy from Pittsfield with a guilty conscience.

  Jael said, “This statue could ruin my shot.” She looked out at the highway, then at the statue, and finally at the woods. She set off toward the woods halfway between the statue and the highway. We followed. Jael found a level spot on the ground behind a pair of trees about a hundred feet from the Madonna. She lay on her stomach and tested her gun sight. Bobby and I stood behind her.

  I asked, “What do you think?”

  Jael said, “This is a little closer than I like. The scope limits my field of view. There is almost enough light to use the iron sights, but only near the statue.”

  “What about just using a handgun?”

  “A handgun is only reliable at ten feet.”

  Bobby said, “Same problem with my shotgun. If I shot from here, I’d be as likely to hit you as Patterson.”

  I said, “That statue creeps me out.”

  “Is the Madonna a bad omen? I thought she was considered to be good.”

  “No, she is good. I just—I don’t know. Something about her bothers me.”

  “You are as safe as possible in this place. We are the first ones here. We’ll see anyone who approaches. I suspect Patterson will park on the highway and climb over the traffic barrier. I will be watching him in the rifle scope. If he shows a gun, I will shoot him.”

  Bobby said, “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Yeah. I’m just being silly. Let’s do this.”

  Jael said, “Then please sit down and wait.”

  I sat with my back against a tree, alone with my thoughts. They weren’t good thoughts. My energy drained as depression settled into my gut. My mother had threatened me with a knife to defend a pile of garbage. What did that say about our relationship? Probably more than I wanted to admit.

  My parents had been married ten years before I was born. Dad had told me that the delay, and my only-child status, both spoke to infertility rather than choice. They had started trying for a child immediately. It was ten years and two miscarriages before their efforts paid off. After that, my mother wasn’t interested in getting pregnant anymore.

  I looked out at the Madonna and thought about Mary’s immaculate conception. She’d had a baby with no sex. My Italian cousins liked to think that their mothers had pulled off the same trick. The Catholic Church, with its ban on birth control, had enforced the idea of having sex only for procreation. Uncle Walt was probably telling the truth about my mother cutting Dad off in the bedroom.

  “Someone is coming,” said Jael.

  A car had slowed to a stop along the Mass Pike and parked in the breakdown lane. The strategy spoke of a quick meeting, because eventually a state trooper would investigate the car. We waited and heard someone tromping through the brush between the road and the shrine.

  The thin figure of Dave Patterson padded into the clearing. He walked into the Madonna’s light.

  “Tucker!” he called. “Are you here?”

  Jael settled down and put her eye to her gun sight. Bobby nodded. I stood and strode out onto the short grass. A faint whiff of car exhaust wafted across the clearing as Patterson saw me and approached. He engaged in the ancient practice of demonstrating that he didn’t have a weapon, raising his hands, palm outward. I did the same, though I had backup he didn’t know about.

  “Why couldn’t we do this over the phone?” I asked.

  “I’m worried about a wiretap,” Patterson said.

  “On a cell phone?”

  He laughed. “Are you crazy? If the FBI wants to hear your conversation, they hear your conversation. It doesn’t matter what kind of phone you use.”

  “Why would the FBI care about our conversation?”

  “Hey. You’re the one who rousted me with that fat bastard Bobby Miller. Remember? You tell me why he would care.”

  I decided to let him bring up Paladin. “JT and his mom had just been killed. We were talking to Paul Waters and he told us about you.”

  “So JT never asked you for help?”

  “Is that why he was in front of my house? To ask for help?”

  “He didn’t ask you?”

  “I never met him.”

  Patterson’s thin features crunched into a rodent glare. “So you and Agent Miller didn’t know about Talevi’s deal with JT?”

  “Why does everyone keep talking about Talevi?”

  As if in answer, the brush erupted in urgent crunching and two men ran from the highway and into the field. Patterson and I had been blinded by the light around the statue and hadn’t see them park behind his car. I heard a voice.

  “Hey, Tucker! How’s the face?”

  I knew the voice. It was Teardrop.

  I called, “Why don’t you come over here and check it out yourself?”

  Teardrop entered the Madonna’s circle of light. Talevi stood next to him. Teardrop was between Talevi and the woods.

  Talevi said, “Mr. Patterson, are you getting the Paladin documents I need?”

  Patterson said, “Look, Mr. Talevi, I can’t get those documents. I don’t work at GDS anymore. I don’t have access to the downlink design.”

  “JT said that Tucker would be able to help him. Perhaps he can help you.”

  What?

  Patterson said, “I can’t get back into GDS.”

  Talevi said, “And you, Mr. Tucker, can you get the downlink

  design?”

  I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s a downlink?”

  Talevi said to Teardrop, “They’re useless. Shoot them.” He turned to leave. “Shoot them both.”

  Teardrop produced a handgun and shot Dave Patterson in the chest. He aimed the gun at me, but I was already moving to put the Madonna between us. He squeezed off a shot. It missed.

  Jael’s rifle cracked and Teardrop’s bald head snapped sideways. He didn’t look surprised. He didn’t look scared. He just looked empty as he sank to his knees.

  Talevi bolted, covering the ground across the clearing in seconds. Another rifle shot rang out, and Bobby ran out of the woods. He chased Talevi into the brush. The shotgun boomed, but Talevi’s tires squealed away a few seconds later.

  I looked around. Patterson lay on his back, his long thin legs crumpled beneath him. Teardrop lay on his side, his tattoo obliterated by a bullet hole. The Madonna stood between them, her pure white stone miraculously untouched by the blood around her.

  Forty-Four

  Bobby stormed out of the brush and advanced on the bodies. He checked their necks for pulses. Finding none, he rose and looked down at them. Jael had emerged from the trees and stood by my side. Bobby nudged Teardrop with his toe.

  “I know this guy,” said Bobby. “He’s Stevie
Donato. Worked for your cousin.”

  “Sal sent him?”

  Bobby shrugged. “There isn’t much Stevie does that Sal doesn’t know about.”

  “It looked like he was working for Talevi,” I said.

  Bobby said, “Yeah. I know. Makes no sense. The Mafia doesn’t do espionage. Or at least they didn’t. What did Talevi say to you?”

  “He wanted Paladin’s downlink information.”

  “Did he.”

  “Patterson said he couldn’t get it. Talevi asked me if I could get it, but I didn’t know what they were talking about, so Talevi decided to shoot us.”

  “That’s it? He didn’t say anything else?”

  “He said that Talevi had been working with JT.”

  Bobby said, “I was afraid of that.” He looked at the Madonna and back out to the highway.

  I asked Bobby, “Did Talevi kill JT? It would have been nice to tell me that.”

  “I have no idea who killed JT.” Bobby looked at Jael. “What do you think?”

  Jael said, “I think that Talevi has decided that his operation is a failure. He is now cleaning up loose pieces. Tucker is no longer safe.”

  Bobby blew out a big sigh, walked in a small circle on the grass, and stood looking out at the highway for a moment. He turned back to us. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want you guys answering questions from the staties.”

  We collected our flashlights, made sure that Jael’s shell casings were picked up, and headed back into the woods.

  Bobby stopped walking once we were in the middle of the woods. He turned to us. “I’m about to share secret information from the US government.”

  I said, “Do I need to sign a nondisclosure agreement?”

  “No. You need to keep your mouth shut and not tell anybody, and I mean anybody, about this for any reason. You got that?”

  I said, “Yeah.”

  Jael said, “Understood.”

  Bobby looked at her and asked, “Are you even a US citizen?”

  Jael remained silent.

  “Goddamn. Motherfucker. Shit!”

  I said, “What’s the big secret?”

  Bobby said, “Do you know what I mean when I talk about intelligence chatter?”