Fresh Kills

by Bill Loehfelm

  WE WERE HALFWAY TO the car when Julia started in again.

  “I always liked her,” she said.

  “Of course you did. She was gorgeous, and she was a switch-hitter.”

  Julia punched my shoulder. Hard. I shoulda let her carry her own goddamn bags.

  “That had nothing to do with it,” Julia said, “and you know it.”

  “I know. I liked her, too.”

  I threw Julia’s bags in the backseat and started the car.

  “You were together for what? Three years?” she asked.

  Two years, eight months, and three weeks. “Something like that. Give or take.” I backed the car out of the space.

  Julia turned in her seat to face me, bending a long leg up on the seat. “I thought she was gonna be the one.”

  I glared at her. “Can we drop this?”

  Julia dropped her leg with a thump. “I really thought you two would make it.” She sat quiet for a long time, picking at her fingernails. “How did you two do it?” she finally asked. “How do you write someone out of your life like that? Just go on like nothing ever happened.”

  I changed lanes. I didn’t have an answer and I wasn’t much interested in coming up with one then and there. It was just the way it turned out. Some women I’ve dated, I’m still on good terms with them. It’s no big deal if we bump into each other. A couple still buy me drinks. I’ve got one coming home with me on a semi-regular basis. Virginia was just different. In the six months since we’d split, I’d tried not to think too much about why.

  Anything I found of hers in the first week after we broke up— old T-shirts she slept in, CDs, pictures of us—I boxed up and dropped off at the tattoo parlor. Whatever else of hers I found after that went in the trash. She never called looking for anything. Nothing of mine came back to me. I’m sure she threw it all out. I knew there were things I’d lost, but I couldn’t recall anything I missed.

  “Seems to me it would shrink you,” Julia said. “Letting someone disappear with big parts of you in their heart.”

  “She didn’t disappear, she left,” I said. It came out harder than I’d wanted.

  Julia stared straight ahead through the windshield, thinking her own thoughts. I got a little peeved. Suddenly, I wanted her to be listening to me.

  “Look, it’s better this way,” I said. “All we were doing at the end was brawling or screwing. Most of the whole last year was like that. She got sick of it first and I don’t blame her. And I don’t hate her, either. Anything but. But we’re best out of each other’s way.” I stole a glance at Julia. “What about you and Cindy? You two gonna be old pals?”

  “Not anytime soon,” Julia said from a distance. “But the facts are I loved her and she loved me. I can’t see us being out of each other’s lives forever. We shared too much, taught each other too much. Someday we’ll be friends.”

  “Yeah, she taught you how to get hurt and come back for more,” I said. “Why even give her the slightest chance at hurting you again, letting you down again?”

  Julia frowned at me, knowing I was at that very moment wishing I could take that back. I rolled my shoulders, squinting with the sun in my eyes.

  “See, to me,” I said, “what you’re talking about? That’s settling.” I paused, stuck for the next thing to say. Against my better judgment, my sister had me thinking. My head started to hurt. I struggled on.

  “Like, for example, Virginia and I should have lunch once a month because we used to be a couple? So we could stare at each other like idiots and talk bullshit? What’s the point?

  “You know, I see exes together at work all the time. It’s painful. Both of them look like they’re gonna fucking die. I wanna walk over and shoot the both of them, just to end the misery. The woman never eats and the guy always drinks too much. It’s play-acting, some junior-high slow dance based on denial of what’s really there.”

  “I don’t think of it that way at all,” Julia said. “Yeah, things are never what they once were, but that doesn’t mean they can’t still be good, and valuable. There are limitations. It’s tough to readjust, it hurts, but love changes colors; it’s flexible. You keep what works and live on that.”

  I shook my head, but didn’t have an argument. Honestly, I was sick of the subject. What point was there in not letting go? People came and went and there was nothing for it. Even I knew life had some rules you just didn’t argue with. Someone at that table would always be left longing for something—another chance, another night in the dark, an admission of guilt or fault or love or regret that would never come, to remember something, or to forget something else. Virginia and I had been smart enough to see all that, to avoid it. We’d already said everything we’d ever have to say to each other. Yelled it. Screamed it. At least, in the end, we’d been able to agree on that. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

  SIX

  A COP CAR WAS PARKED IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE WHEN WE GOT home. Purvis waited for us on the front porch. It was strange, and disturbing, having him around the house again. I didn’t like it. It reminded me of our dying days as friends, when he would loiter on the porch, trying to talk to my sister while waiting for me to get home from swimming practice. He’d see me walking up the street and just stand there, watching me, until I got to the house. Then he’d make some stupid joke, and I’d give him some lame excuse about why I couldn’t hang out. I could never figure out why he never took the hint, why he hung on so long. I didn’t know what he had to prove.

  “Whadda ya want?” I asked, climbing out of the car.

  “Hey, Julia,” he said, walking over to us. Standing beside me, he tapped the driver’s side of the windshield. “Expired.” He walked around the back of the car, locking his thumbs in his belt. His fingertips tapped at the badge next to his belt buckle. “And you’ve got a taillight out.”

  “Hello, Carlo,” Julia said, grabbing her bags from the backseat.

  Purvis rocked back on his heels, tilting his chin up as Julia walked away from him. “John, I need to talk to you a moment,” he said, watching her back as he spoke to me. “Just a few little things that need clearing up.”

  I put myself between them. “Write me a fucking ticket, you got problems with the car.”

  He finally looked at me. “I can let the car problems go,” he said. “I know grief can be disorienting. That it’s distracting. That maybe you’ve mixed up your priorities right now.”

  Julia stopped at the front door, turning toward us. “You want to come in?” she asked, glancing back and forth between Purvis and me. She didn’t want him in the house any more than I did. The invite was to prevent Purvis and me from being alone, and to hopefully find out what he had to say about my “priorities.”

  “We’re fine out here,” I said.

  Her eyes settled on me. She stared me down hard, her cheeks red with anger and confusion. I had a bad feeling there was guilt all over my face, but she ground her teeth on her questions, breathed deep through her nose.

  “I’m sure my brother knows what he needs to do these days,” Julia said. She turned to Purvis. “He’s been a huge help to me. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” She disappeared into the house. She left the door open as she walked away.

  “We won’t be long,” I said.

  Purvis leaned around me to look into the hall. “You’re not,” I said, stepping into his line of sight. “You’re not checking out my sister while I’m standing right here.”

  “What? No. Of course not. I could go for a cup of coffee, though.”

  “So you can talk more cryptic shit in front of Julia? Make me look like an asshole? You’re outta your mind. That badge has made you crazy.” I walked away from him, out onto the lawn. Purvis followed. “You got something to tell me,” I said, “get it over with.”

  “First of all, Waters wanted to update you on the investigation. I hate to show up always bearing bad news, but I have to tell you, we haven’t got much. We’re looking again at the store’s security tapes, reinter
viewing potential witnesses. We’ve got people canvassing the other shop owners on the block, but we’re not expecting anything new from them.”

  “The gun?” I asked.

  “Useless,” Purvis said. “So far, at least. No prints, no serial number.”

  I didn’t believe him. He’d lie to me just because he could. I knew I should be the one trying to trace that gun.

  “So you came all the way over here to tell me you’ve got nothing to tell me,” I said. “Bullshit.”

  “Waters and I want you guys to know we’re working hard. We can still get somebody for this.”

  “Waters forgot how to use a phone? He couldn’t call to tell us this?”

  He tossed his head. “Mr. Fontana, down on the corner, he was there, at the deli. I had to come over and talk to him so I figured I’d save Waters the trouble, handle it myself.”

  “What’d Fontana tell you?” I asked.

  “He asked when the funeral was.”

  “That’s nothing you need to know.”

  “Well, I thought I might—”

  “Forget it,” I said. “Fucking forget about that.” I walked away, to the sidewalk. He was smart enough to wait for me to come back to him. “Look, if you’re using my father’s murder to get near my sister, I’m gonna knock your fucking teeth out. Again.”

  Purvis looked at me like I’d slapped him, but he recovered quickly and didn’t back down. “It’s not like that. Jesus. You don’t like me, that’s fine, but you gotta treat me with respect now. I’m not your punching bag anymore.” He paused, straightening his tie. “This isn’t just another case to me. I know Waters knew your dad. Julia and I were friends. We were friends once, you and me.” He stopped again, licked sweat off his top lip. “Look, I always felt bad about how your father gave you . . . such a hard time.”

  “We don’t need any favors from you, thanks,” I said. “Forget all that ‘used to be’ shit. It doesn’t count for a fucking thing. After today, you don’t need to come to the house. Don’t come to Scalia’s. Julia doesn’t need the stress. Waters can call. It won’t hurt our feelings. I can meet him somewhere if he needs to talk in person.”

  “Waters and I will decide the best way to handle things,” Purvis said, hitching his thumbs in his belt again and straightening his shoulders, back to playing the badge-toting tough guy. “You don’t get a say.”

  “The hell I don’t. Tell me this, does Waters know about you and Julia? Is he weighing that in his decisions?”

  Purvis blanched. “He knows.”

  “Did he ask why I told him to keep you away from Julia?” Purvis feigned a yawn, but he knew I had him. “So what if he did? I told him the truth, that she and I had a history. That we dated when we were younger.” He paused, took off his sunglasses. “That it didn’t end well and maybe you were still pissed about it.”

  “So you left out the fact you kicked her out of your car in the middle of the night? That I had to pick her up at a pay phone on the edge of the projects?”

  I waited. He didn’t say anything. He just looked sick.

  “She was fucking sixteen and you left her alone in a crack-infestedghetto because she wouldn’t put out,” I said. “And then you went and told everybody she did anyway. In graphic detail.”

  “For chrissakes,” Purvis said, “that was years ago.”

  “She was hysterical when I found her. Her lip was bleeding. Her blouse was torn.”

  Purvis looked away from me, rubbing his palms on his cheeks.

  “I was stupid,” he said. “That stuff was accidental; I was just clumsy.” He studied the streetlights along the block. “It was a bad night. I felt bad about it. I told her I was sorry. I left her alone after that.”

  “After I beat your ass all over your front yard,” I said.

  “You want me to apologize again? Let me in the house,” he said. “Or tell her for me that I’m still sorry. It was stupid. Mean. I guess I was still pissed about Molly.”

  “Julia had nothing to do with that.”

  “I know,” he snapped. “Molly was my first girlfriend. You took her from me. That can fuck a guy up for a while, you know?” He rubbed his hands on his shirt. “I don’t care about that now, you know, but then, it made me a little crazy.”

  “Please, we barely hung out by the time we got to high school,” I said. “I heard all this a long time ago.”

  “I know, but my point is, look, maybe now I’m trying to make something up to Julia,” Purvis said. “Get her some justice. You ever think about that?”

  “You’re a fuckin’ hero. You wanna do her some good? Stay away from her. She’s got enough to deal with this week.”

  “Fine. Whatever,” he said. “We’ll see how it plays out. God, there is no fucking talking to you. And you know what else? There never was.” He put his sunglasses back on; he was a cop again. I knew he regretted trying to talk to me like a human being. I might’ve even felt bad for him, but I had Julia to think about. Fuck him if he couldn’t understand that.

  “When I was down at the deli, doing my follow-up,” he said, “Vito told me about your visit.”

  “So?”

  “So you can’t do that shit,” Purvis said. “You scared him half to death.”

  “Good.”

  “He had nothing to do with your father’s murder,” Purvis said. “You’re lucky I’m not arresting you.”

  “Please. I’d like to see you try.”

  “Get a grip, John,” he said. “What would that do for Julia’s stress level? She really needs her brother in jail while her father’s in the morgue?”

  “You let me worry about my sister.”

  “I wish you would,” Purvis said. He rested one hand on his hip and leaned forward, actually pointing a finger at my chest with the other. “Stay away from the deli. And don’t let us hear you’ve been near Fontana.”

  I stared down at his finger. He stepped back and crossed his arms.

  “My father was shot in the middle of the sidewalk in the light of day,” I said. “On a crowded corner, outside a busy store, and you and Fat Nat can’t buy a clue. This is New York, there’s people everywhere all the time.” It was my turn to point the finger. “Either the two of you are bumbling idiots, or you’re full of shit about what’s really going on. Neither one sits well with me.”

  “Gimme a break,” Purvis said. “And get your finger out of my face. I’ve been a cop for ten years while you’ve been pulling your tap all over town. Waters has been a detective longer than you or I have been alive. What the fuck do you know about investigating anything other than the bottom of a bottle? I got news for you. Nobody gives a fuck what sits well with you and what doesn’t. The sooner you learn that, the better it’ll be for everybody.”

  “You’re about to learn,” I said, “how it feels to be in traction.”

  Purvis backed up a few steps. “I’d say you’re about to learn what the inside of a jail cell looks like, but you already know.” He folded his arms again. This time, though, one hand reached inside his suit jacket. It rested on his gun, I was sure.

  I probably should have been frightened, or at least chastened. Twice already that day, my mouth had made somebody reach for a gun. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice told me that was a bad thing. It wasn’t hard to ignore; I’d had plenty of practice. Anyway, I couldn’t imagine Purvis drawing down on me, never mind shooting me, any more than I could that kid outside the Mall. Instead, my head filled with images of me and Purvis back in the schoolyard at P.S. 42, each threatening the other with our respective powers: physical violence for me, a main line to authority for him. All that was left was for us to tough-talk our way to a face-saving truce.