Callisto (30 page)

There was cameras shooting all of this so it's a good thing nobody took a dive into the dirt or fell in the hole or anything, then last of all Lorraine got given a bunch of flowers by the preacher and she flung that down onto Bree too, kind of a farewell posy, after which the preacher said some more and then the show is over, with the crowd breaking up slow and starting to drift back towards where all the cars are parked. Lorraine started jawing with the preacher so I went over to the hole and looked down at Bree's coffin one last time. I guess you are supposed to be thinking thoughts about the dear departed and what it all means about dying after being alive so long, but all I could think about was how that nice shiny coffin that cost thousands of dollars was going to get covered in dirt and left to rot under the soil after only getting
admired and used for just one morning, which is kind of a waste if you think about it, which is the kind of thinking I'm doing there as I said. Then there's someone stood next to me and it's Cole, putting sunglasses on and he's saying, “Don't do it, Odell, you're too young.”

“Huh?”

“You look like you're about to throw yourself down there with her.”

“No.”

“Well, good, we're needing new men out at the correctional facility. Lorraine tell you it's Friday?”

“Uhuh.”

“Make it around ten-thirty.” He looks me up and down. “Might have to get a uniform made special for a big dude like you. Ever been in charge of recalcitrants before?”

Now I didn't know what he meant by that so I just stared at him, and he gets this grin on his face and says, “Okay, you're right, this is not the time and place for the interview, but hey, you do a mean stare real good, Odell, that'll come in handy more than you might think.” I kept looking at him, not knowing what to say, wanting to pick him up and throw him down in the hole with Bree, and he says, “Okay then, see you Friday.”

“Okay.”

He went away and Lorraine had a few words with him as she's coming over to me only I couldn't hear what it is they're saying. Then she's next to me and takes my arm, kind of leaning into me like she needs support. “Walk me back,” she says, “and go slow so we look sad.”

“They haven't filled in the hole yet.”

“That happens after everyone's gone.”

“Oh.”

“Start walking.”

So we walked slow and steady back to the limo and hearse with cameras aimed at us along the way but I didn't look at them because this makes you look like a fool when that happens. Lorraine leaned on me all the way like she's about to collapse in a heap from sadness which I know she isn't feeling, but it's for the TV news so it has to look good. Back at the cars I saw Chief Webb getting in his cruiser and driving away, then we got in our limo and soon we're going out through the fancy gates and on our way back to the funeral place, with Lorraine in a much better mood.

“I think that went fine,” she says.

“Uhuh.”

“Did you see Andy Webb there? That's intimidation. He's got himself a big shock coming, that guy.”

“He does?”

“When we sue his ass. We talked about this.”

“Right.”

“Sometimes I think you're off in a world of your own, Odell.”

“Could be.”

“Well, come back to this one and concentrate. I saw you talking with Cole, how'd that go?”

“Okay.”

“He's one of the good guys, Cole. You two'll get along okay so long as you don't go zoning out around him like you do around me.”

“You're better looking is why.”

It's not often I come up with something funny on the spur
of the moment like that, so Lorraine was not ready for it. She looks at me then says, “Oh, I get it.” Then she punched me on the shoulder and says, “You dog, you,” and laughed, but not very much. The punch felt good, though.

We didn't talk for awhile, then she says, “Poor Bree . . .” and started crying, then followed up with, “Poor Dean . . .” I scooted across and put my arm around her shoulder and she leaned against me, sniffling and so on, and let me keep my arm there all the way back to the funeral place, then she sat up straight again like she's back to her old self and no more comforting is required, thank you.

Out of the limo Lorraine said to wait while she went inside and had a few words with the fat guy, so I waited in the parking lot, but something was wrong there. I looked over at her car and there's something wrong that I couldn't put my finger on at first, but then I did – the truck was gone! It was right next to her car when we got in the limo to go to the funeral and now it isn't there anymore! Now, how could that happen when this isn't even a public street with No Parking signs and it isn't a Tow-away Zone either, so how come the truck isn't there? The lawnmowers were in back of it so how can I mow to schedule with the truck and mowers gone? I went over and stood there where the truck used to be with my head whirling. I just can't believe it. Someone has stole my truck and my customers are gonna be plenty mad when I don't come to mow their lawn like they're expecting. Of course I knew straight off who did this.

Lorraine come outside and walked over to me. “What's wrong?” she says.

“The truck's gone . . .”

She looked where the truck was before and says, “Shit.”

“I know who did it.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Chief Webb.”

“He couldn't have, he was at the funeral.”

“Well, he had one of his cops do it.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because we're gonna sue his ass.”

“He doesn't know about that yet. And stealing your truck would be dumb, and Andy's not dumb even if he is an asshole sometimes.”

“Then who took it?”

“Jesus, I don't know. You better report it.”

I reached for my phone, then remembered it's in the truck. Along with my letter to Condi Rice, so it's a double blow as they say.

“Fuck!”

“It's okay, Odell. A truck like that, it's easy to spot with the mowers and the name on the door ...Hey, maybe this has got something to do with it being Dean's truck ...you know, souvenir hunters wanting the actual vehicle of America's Most Wanted Man.”

“But ...they can't drive a famous truck around without some-one'll report it when they see it, so why...why
would
they?”

“They might just take off the doors where the name is and leave the rest.”

“But that's ... so dumb!”

“Yeah, well, it's a dumb world.” She looked at her watch. “I've got to get back to work. How about I drop you off at Tux deLuxe and then at the police station so you can report it.”

“Then how am I gonna mow my lawns?”

“Tell your customers what happened and they'll understand. Everyone gets their car stolen sometime or other. It's okay, Odell, don't get all panicked.”

“But... all the phone numbers for the people were there in the schedule, which was in the truck ...And my clothes to switch back into after the suit gets taken back, so what am I gonna wear?”

“Jesus, Odell, just relax and we'll work it out, okay? I've never seen you like this before. It's not like it's even your truck or your customers, it all belongs to Dean.”

“No it doesn't!”

“Don't go all weird on me now, I've had all the stress I can handle for today, so just
calm down
.”

Well, that was hard, calming down. I couldn't think straight with all this loss and stealing going on. What happened in the end was, Lorraine drove me to Target and I bought a new checked shirt and jeans which I changed into at Tux deLuxe when I took the suit back, then she dropped me off outside the police station to report the truck getting stole, then she drove away to work. I went inside and talked to the guy at the front desk, and while I'm doing that who should come strolling by but Andy Webb.

“Hey there, Odell,” he says, grinning this big shit-eating grin. “Didn't recognize you there for a second without your businessman's outfit on.”

“I took it back.”

“Good for you, otherwise they would've reported you for stealing.”

“It's his truck got stole,” says the desk guy.

“Yeah? When'd that happen?”

“While I'm at the funeral,” I said, watching his face for clues that he is one lying son of a bitch when he says it had nothing to do with him.

“Is that right? Well, that is peculiar, a truck with lawn-mowers on board getting stolen in broad daylight like that. Maybe they only wanted the mowers and they'll dump the truck someplace. Those were pretty good mowers, weren't they.”

“Uhuh.”

“He doesn't remember the license plate,” said the desk guy, like I'm some kind of moron.

“Well, he wouldn't, would he,” says Andy, “seeing as it's not even his truck, it's Dean Lowry's. Not a problem, Odell, it'll be in the Vehicle Registration records. Did you iron those jeans special for today?”

“They're brand new, that's why there's a crease. I had my other clothes in the truck too.”

“So it's theft of clothing as well,” says Andy to the desk guy, just barely keeping his face straight. “Make a note of that.”

“Doin' it,” says the guy, also with a grin now so I knew they were not serious about this, which only made me madder but not showing it, I would not give them that satisfaction.

“Don't you worry, Odell,” Andy said, “we'll get your truck back ... sometime.”

I didn't speak a word, not wanting to say something as might get me into Trouble with the Law, only give them both a steady stream of eye-daggers to let them know I have smelled the rat here and am not fooled one little bit. The funny thing is, it calmed me down knowing the cops stole the
truck for harassment because I most likely will get it back when they figure they've had all the fun to be got out of this situation and bring it back, most likely saying they found it parked somewhere. I didn't think they would wreck it or any extreme behavior like that.

“How about I give you a lift home,” offered Andy, still smiling like this isn't a total setup with me the dumbass at the center of it all. But I did have to get home somehow.

“Okay.”

We went out to his cruiser and got rolling. He says, “That was a pretty nice funeral. Lorraine looked real good, don't you think?”

“Uhuh.”

“She always did look good in a suit or uniform. Not every woman does.”

I didn't say anything, still mad at him about his stupid truck-stealing trick.

“Say, Odell, did you watch the news last night, Fox News?”

“Uhuh.”

“That was the DVD at Okeydokey Karaoke I was telling you about, the one that shows you weren't exactly telling the truth about being with Dean at his place Saturday night.”

“I told you I made a mistake about that. I even said so to the FBI that come around asking, so you can't get me into trouble about that.”

“Who's trying to get anyone in trouble here? Not me. Course, there is
one
double-dealing shithead who's gonna find himself in big trouble about revealing secret police evidence to the media, but that's okay, I know who he is – an ex-cop, or pretty soon will be. You can't trust anybody these days.
Everybody just wants to make a buck and say Screw you to his friends and colleagues and the reputation of the department. But he'll get his, oh yeah.”

And you'll get yours is what I'm thinking but I didn't say it, let him get a big surprise about this when the lawsuit hits him in the face, the smartass. Andy gave out this little chuckle, like he's thinking about dipping Officer Larry Dayton into boiling oil nice and slow from the toes on up, then he turned to me very serious and said, “Odell, if there's anything at all you feel like telling me, anything at all, in strictest confidence, just between you and me and the dashboard, I want you to feel free to do that without fear of retaliation. Anything you told me that might be useful enough information to get passed along to Homeland, I'd treat that as confidential, you know? From an Unknown Source. No blowback to you, see what I mean?”

“It's just souvenir hunters, I expect.”

“Huh? No, not the goddamn truck, the
real
case, the Dean Lowry situation. Any information I can provide to Homeland will be received with thanks, maybe even reward money. Course, as an officer of the law I'm not entitled to any kind of a reward, I'm just doing my job, but the one that told me the information, he'd be entitled to whatever they're offering. It's a hundred grand for Dean right now, but I heard along the grapevine that's gonna get upped to a cool half mil. Know why? Because Senator Fucking Ketchum got pissed when he saw how low the reward is for this guy that's out to kill him. Makes him look less important, like he's just a bank president or something, you know, not the guy that'll most likely end up
the
next President of the United States. It's all about status
and who swings the biggest dick in Washington. What a shit-hole that place must be, all that corruption and brown-nosing they do there. Would you want to live in Washington, Odell?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither. Where would you like to live? Now me, I'd choose Hawaii if I was the one got that half mil reward money. But that's just me. Where would you choose, Odell?”

“Hawaii.”

“See? You and me have got more in common than you might think. Maybe if you took the time to consider the situation you might remember things better and have that nice chunk of change made available to you for getting a whole new lifestyle over there with the palm trees and hula girls. They're cute, those brownskin girls. Ever had one of those, Odell?”

“No.”

“Me neither, but I've been told. What's your preferred type of woman?”

“Condoleezza Rice.”