We Begin at the End(53)

“10-91?”

Walk sighed. “Stray horse.”

He drove to Sunset, didn’t even think of running the lights.

A sedan outside the King house, so nondescript Walk figured them for cops.

He pulled the cruiser up right behind, flashed his lights once then got out and walked up to the window.

Two men, neither moved to roll down a window. Walk watched the empty street, the empty lots, the moonlit waters of the Cape. A strange car stood out. He tapped the glass gently. Slowly the driver turned, maybe fifty, head of dark hair and handsome.

“Can I help you with something?” Walk smiled.

The man looked at his friend, older, maybe sixty-five, beard and glasses. “Did we do something?”

“Not that I know of.”

“So fuck off then.”

Walk swallowed and felt the adrenaline kick a little. “And if I don’t?”

A smile came back, just small, like Walk should have known something he did not, and could still be punished for it.

“We’re looking for Richard Darke.”

“Darke doesn’t live here.” Walk didn’t draw but kept a hand there to show his intent.

“Any ideas where we can find him?”

Walk thought of Darke, the payments, the kind of men he was most likely in business with. “I don’t know where he lives.”

“You see him, tell him we’re not going away,” the older guy said, not looking at Walk.

The driver started the engine.

“I need you to step out of the vehicle.”

The driver looked up at Walk, then at the King house behind. “Darke’s good at spinning plates, till one drops.”

“I said I need you—”

The driver closed the window and pulled into the street.

Walk considered chasing, radioing, instead he watched them coast Sunset, hand still on his gun.

*

She took Robin’s hand as they opened the gate and walked over toward the two horses, grazing side by side.

“Can you eat with us one time?”

Duchess muzzled the black gently, patting his nose with the flat of her hand. “No.”

Then she muzzled the smaller gray, tried to pet her but she moved her face away. Duchess liked her.

She roped the muzzles and led them gently, Robin keeping far to the side. He ran the last steps then closed the gate behind, like she’d shown him.

When she was done she told them goodnight, then found Robin on a patch of grass by the water. He knew not to go too close, though he could swim well, she rode three buses to the lido in Oakmont each Saturday for close to a year because they taught kids for free.

When she got close he scooted away.

“You’re pissed at me.”

“Yes.” He balled a fist and kept it in his lap. He wore shorts, thin legs, knees grazed. “You shouldn’t have said that to Tyler.”

“He shouldn’t have pushed you down.”

Hollow night fell as quick as dusk began, the warmth lifting till nothing but cool remained.

“Alright.”

“It’s not alright.” He hit the grass with his fist. “I like it here. I like Grandpa and I like the animals. I like Miss Child and the new school. I don’t need …”

“What?” she said it quiet but the challenge was there. A month back he would have stayed silent.

“You. I’ve got Grandpa and he’s an adult. He can care for us. I don’t want you to fix my food.”

He cried quietly. She watched him huddled, chin to chest, knees up and arms around them. She knew about the things that shaped people, memories and events that print your soul. She needed Robin to be alright, more than anything she needed that. He saw the shrink each week, though no longer told her what was discussed. I don’t have to tell. It’s private.

“I know you’re an outlaw, but I’m not. I just want to be a kid.”

She scooted nearer, her jeans in the dirt. “You’re a prince, remember. Mom said that and she was right.”

“Just leave me alone.”

She made to ruffle his hair but he moved from her hand, stood and then ran for the house. For a moment she thought she might cry too, just let the past months and years rot her into the dirt, wash her skin from her bones and her blood to the water.

She heard the rumble of a truck, tensed for a moment, then saw it was Dolly. Dolly left the high-beams cutting a sweep of light over the water.

“Mind if I sit a while?” Dolly stopped by now and then. She wore a cream dress, heels with red soles, the kind of woman that did not own work clothes.

“I didn’t see you at church last week,” Duchess said.

“Bill’s been sick.” Her cigarette glowed as she held it away.

“Oh.”

“He’s been sick a long time. Some days are better than others.”

“Right.”

“I missed seeing that dress.”

Duchess had cut a new swath to show off her belly button.

“You can come by you know. If you ever want some female company. I don’t have siblings, no mother, grew up fending for myself.”

“And you’re alright.”

“I’m good at fronting, Duchess. I’m a fucking master. Anyway, Hal knows where to find me if you want to stop by.”