When Haggis had brought her home, he had expected her to go for wine, but she surprised him by accepting his offer of Scotch.
By the time he had talked about his service in the Marine Corps, and she had hit him with her sad history as a deputy in Willet County, they had knocked the bottom out of the bottle.
At first, he had done his best to be careful of what he said, but he just couldn’t remember if he had been successful. She didn’t seem to be hiding anything, but he’d had to tell himself many times that maybe he shouldn’t be so trusting.
Something about having a woman in his house. Sitting and drinking and laughing at his jokes. Wanting him, whether she was pretending or not. He was a sucker, and he knew it was going to happen.
Then they had both run out of steam. Or maybe it was just him. But he remembered them giggling as they leaned on each other on their way down the hallway. Into his bedroom where he collapsed onto his bed. She fell on top of him, and they promptly fell asleep with all their clothes on.
A few hours of restless sleep with his heart pounding from all the alcohol, he got up to take a leak. Worked his way out from under her, and she rolled over with a soft moan.
When he got back, he kicked his boots off. Laid down to work his arm under her, and she snuggled up against him. Put her head on his chest and started snoring. He fell back asleep with a smile.
The sun woke him up, and the heat of it against his chest was a sharp contrast to how cold he was where he remembered her being. He had no idea how long it had been since she got up, but it was almost nine. Hours longer than he usually slept, and he jumped up with a curse, only to flinch in the pain the change in position brought screaming into his head.
He staggered to the bathroom while running their conversation through his memory. More holes in it than a golf course. He just couldn’t get enough of the details to know if he had told her too much.
Called himself all kinds of a dumbass in the mirror as he brushed the metallic funk out of his mouth. Spent another two hours arguing with himself about what she had really wanted from him.
Just to get closer to Stan or something else. Couldn’t have been too much of something else. All they did was sleep.
After a half a gallon of water, a pot of coffee, and several strips of bacon, he took a shower to procrastinate a little further. Then he broke down and called Stan. When he got off the phone, he was equal parts regret and relief.
Then he called Jeanette, and he almost dropped the phone when she answered. Such a positive sign he started apologizing before she had barely said anything.
“I’m sorry for lying,” he said. “I was protecting him. He’s my boss. My friend. A good man whether you know it, whether you believe it. I just … look. I think you’re great, and I just want you to know, no matter what, I’m sorry.”
There was a moment when all he heard was the sound of the car and the wind. Then she cleared her throat. “I really appreciate that, Haggis. I do.”
The emotion in her voice made him relax. Maybe he could salvage this thing. “I don’t think you mean him any harm. Like you said. And he’s doing something that needs doing.”
“Like what?”
“I think that’s his story. He wants you to call him.”
“He does?”
“Just to talk. He said no bullshit. Just lay it all out on the table. Shit, maybe he should have done that in the beginning.”
She sighed. “Well, for that matter, maybe I should have too.”
“So you’ll call?”
She was slow to answer. “I don’t think so. I’m driving. Trying to beat him to Panama City.”
Haggis dropped onto his couch and put his head in his hand. “Did you get that from me?”
“Yes, but you didn’t know where he was going to be when he got there. Or how long he was going to be there. Only that he was stopping on his way to Texas.”
“Jesus, I said that too.”
There was laughter in her voice. “I’m afraid so.”
“How bad did I mess up?”
“I guess that depends on what Stan says.”
“No, I mean us.”
More wind and engine noise. He waited.
“What I did was wrong,” she said. “I used you when I probably didn’t need to. I just … I don’t know if there is an us.”
“I’d really like there to be.”
“Haggis, we’re strangers.”
“Not for long, if you’ll let it.”
She laughed. “All right, all right. Tell him I’ll meet him. In public wherever he wants, but I won’t talk to him where I can’t see his face.”
He told Stan it didn’t matter if he was the middle man, and it looked like that’s exactly what he was going to be. “I’ll tell him.”
“And then …”
“Then what?”
“Maybe we can try again?”
He didn’t know why this woman was so important to him. Not for a while had he felt this way. It was concerning. Exciting. “That would be nice.”
They both hung on in silence until he finally shook his head with a laugh. “I’ll let you know.”
He hit the button before it got even more weird. Then he rushed into his closet for his suitcase. Then his rifle case. Called Stan while he packed.
He held the phone in the crook of his neck while he waited for Stan’s answer. Finally, he heard, “Fuck it. The lobby bar in the Green Reef. Seven o’clock.”
“Is that a restaurant?”
“Golf resort. Let me know her answer.”
Haggis dropped the phone on the bed while he finished up. Pulled the rifle from the case. Assembled it. Checked the action. Breathed in the smell of it. Oil and sweat. Hot sand and blood. He warmed it up twice a year at the range. Hated the way it felt so welcome against his shoulder. He laid it on the pillow to call Jeanette. Stood at his window while it rang. Opened the sash for a bit of breeze.
Just as she answered, he saw a Dodge Charger parked in the cul-de-sac.
“Hello?”
He stepped back out of the sun. Sat on the bed so hard his teeth snapped shut.
“Haggis?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry. Just saw something that gave me a jump.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing a guy can’t handle here in a bit.”
He told her what Stan had said, all the while keeping his eyes on the black car pointed at his house. His neighbor’s oak tree swayed into his view, and he looked down at the phone to realize the call had ended already.
He sent Stan a text. She’ll be there.
Then he pulled the rifle into his arms. The weapon he had carried through two tours. Both of them seeing a lot of action. Too much, but he still couldn’t stop the thrill building inside.
He performed the ritual. Loading it. Attaching the suppressor. Setting up at the edge of the window.
Aimed at the Dodge before flipping up the eyepiece. Then he settled the rest on the windowsill. Opened the end of the scope and sighted through it.
The faces of the occupants sprang into view. “I’ll be dipped,” Haggis breathed.
It was Grumpy and Friendly. The two gentlemen from the other morning. He still had their pistols in a shoebox.
He slowed his breathing. Felt the wind coming across from left to right. Paused as a magnified oak leaf obscured his view.
Adjusted. Waited.
Ran his barrel down until he had the front tire in the center of his scope. Standard 7.62 rounds, and at this distance, anywhere close to rubber would tear that thing up.
He thumbed off the safety. Exhaled. Squeezed the trigger like he had a thousand times before.
The cracking recoil, and the tire exploded. The car rocked like it had jumped in surprise.
He ran his sight down the door crease to the back tire. Fired again, and the car jumped again. This time with more than surprise as Friendly and Grumpy threw themselves out to scurry around the rear bumper.
Haggis aimed off to the side to skip one off the pavement into the bushes between the two houses on the end.
Then he pulled back inside. Broke her down and stowed her back in her case. He was in the driver’s seat less than five minutes later. As he pulled away he cursed himself for leaving his bedroom window open, but it was too late.
When he saw one of their tiny heads poke out from the back of the Dodge in his rearview mirror, he barked laughter. That bedroom window didn’t matter one bit. He was finally moving on.