The Passenger (The Passenger, #1)(49)

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It was one ten in the morning when he pulled off the highway and drove down the deserted main street of Wartburg. Everything was closed. He turned around at Bonifacius and came back and turned up Kingston Street and drove past the courthouse and on into the country. Just the sound of the cobbly tires on the two-lane blacktop road and the moon low over the dark hills to the west. He crossed the old bridge and turned up the farm road and drove on. When he pulled up opposite the house he switched off the headlamps and sat there in the dark with the motor idling. There was a mercury vapor lamp at the back of the house but the house itself was dark and quiet. He sat there for a while. Then he switched the lights on again and turned the car around in the road and drove back to town.

A sheriff’s patrol car picked him up and followed him out to the edge of town and then turned and went back. He drove down Highway 27 south towards Harriman and pulled into a motel just outside of town. It was two thirty in the morning. He stood at the office door and pushed the buzzer and waited. Pretty cold out. He could see his breath. He pushed the button again and after a while the man came and let him in.

He filled out the card and turned it around and pushed it back across the counter. The man picked it up and held it at arm’s length to study it. He was small and graylooking. He didnt look like he got out much.

I had a brother lived in Monroe Louisiana. Died there, in fact.

He bent and squinted out at the driveway where the Maserati sat in the soft red glare of the vacancy sign. Jap car, he said. My niece drives one. Well, it’s a free country I reckon.

It’s not a Jap car.

Well what is it if it aint?

It’s Italian.

Yeah? Well we fought them sumbitches too. That’ll be fifteen seventy-one with the tax.

He paid the man and got the key and drove down to the room and went to bed.

In the morning he drove back into Wartburg and ate a late breakfast at the little restaurant and read the Wartburg paper. Out in the parkinglot two teenage boys were looking at the car. The patrons in the cafe glanced at him from time to time as he ate and after a while the younger of the two waitresses came over to freshen up his coffee.

I’ll bet that car out yonder belongs to you.

Western looked up. She had fresh stitches in her head. She poured the coffee and set the pot on the table and pulled the pad of checks from the pocket of her apron. Did you want anything else?

I might. I’m pretty hungry.

He studied the menu. Do you get a lot of calls for the wartburger?

Yeah. It’s pretty popular.

He folded the menu shut. I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead. He looked up at her.

You’re not from around here, are you?

Shoot no. I hate this place.

I heard this was a party town.

Wartburg? Where’d you hear that at? You’re funnin, aint you?

You’ve got a boyfriend in Petros.

Husband. How’d you know that?

I dont know. You’re not wearing a ring.

I wear it. Just not when I’m workin.

How often do you get to see him?

Twice a week.

Has he seen those stitches yet?

Not yet.

What are you going to tell him?

How do you know he didnt put em there?

Is he a doctor?

You know what I mean.

Did he?

No. I told you. He aint even seen em yet.

So what are you going to tell him.

You’re awful nosey, aint you? I’m goin to tell him I slipped and fell if it’s any of your business.

I just wondered if you had a good story.

What makes you think I need a story? You dont know what happened.

Do you need a story?

Maybe. Why would I tell you?

Why not?

Where are you from?

Right here.

No you aint.

New Orleans?

I dont know. Are you?

If that’s all right.

She looked back toward the counter and then looked at him again. You’re kindly a smartass, aint you.

Yes.

If you are kind of cute.

You’re not so bad yourself. Do you want to go out?

She looked toward the counter again and back. I dont know, she whispered. You make me kindly nervous.

That’s part of my strategy. It’s good for the libido.

It’s good for the what?

What’s he in for? Manslaughter?

How did you know that? Were you talkin to Margie?

Who’s Margie?

That’s her standin over yonder. What did she say about me?

She said I should ask you out.

I’m goin to kick her butt.

I’m just teasing. She didnt say that.

She better not of. Did you want anything else?

No thanks.

She tore off the ticket from the pad and laid it face down on the table. Are you from New Orleans sure enough?

Yes.

I aint never been there. Are you a gambler?

No. I’m a deep sea diver.

You’re full of it. I got to wait on these customers.

All right.

Are you serious about what you said?

About what.

You know. About goin out.

Maybe. I dont know. You make me kind of nervous.

Well that might be good for whatever that thing was you said. If you have one.