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"No," Prime said. He paused. "Why would he?"
"Seems he was bragging to some comrades how he was going to teach you a lesson. He'd have to stop by to do that."
"Or he was just flapping his gums," Prime said.
"Or he was writing a check he couldn't cash," the detective said.
"He did-does-that a lot."
Prime changed his reply in mid-sentence. He had used the past tense. The cop was using the present tense. Had he given himself away?
"He seems that sorta fellow." The detective glanced around the apartment. "So, you haven't seen Carson since...?"
"I dunno," Prime said. "Work on Thursday, I guess."
"Where you had words in the locker room."
It wasn't a question.
"I guess."
"And you haven't seen him either?" the detective asked Casey.
"Why would I?"
"If he came around, you'd've seen him, right? You here alone taking care of the baby. You'd have seen him if he came by."
"I would have," Casey said. "But I didn't."
Prime looked for some sign, some tic on her face to give away a shred of guilt. She looked like a bored housewife, uninterested and cool. Prime felt himself relax in reaction.
"Anything else you want?" Prime asked, motioning toward the door.
The detective gave him a pointed stare. "No, I guess that's it." He glanced at the other officer. "We'll be going then. If you happen to suddenly remember seeing Ted Carson on Thursday, you let me know."
Prime showed them to the door and watched them clomp down the stairs. A sudden squawk from Abby made him jump. He shut the door too quickly and it slammed.
Casey looked at him, her face pale. "We're going to have to move the body," she said. "They're on to us."
Prime shook his head. "No way. Someone will notice if we have to dig up that ground again."
"I need to sow some wildflowers then," she said. "Something to cover up the dirt."
"It's too late in the season for flowers."
"Something!"
"Calm down!" Prime said. "They were here to see what we did under pressure. If we run now, it'll be apparent!"
"But-"
"They haven't found the car, and they haven't found the body," Prime said. "He's just a runaway kid."
She nodded. Prime took Abby and bounced her on his hip. She gurgled and cooed. She had no idea her parents were murderers.
He found himself rea.s.signed to overflow the next day, which meant he sat in the overflow room with six other workers waiting for the a.s.sembly line to back up. It meant idle time, nearly all day long. The workers in the overflow room were union advocates, since it was considered a cushy job. The six just stared at him, and he guessed that Ted Carson's father had something to do with his rea.s.signment.
It drove Prime crazy to sit idle. He was getting paid for doing nothing, but under the scrutiny of grizzled old workers.
He didn't even try opening a conversation with any of them. He ate his bagged lunch in silence, watching the six play euchre with rules that were a little different than he remembered.
At the end of his shift, he couldn't wait to get out of there.
When he got home, Casey was in the shower while Abby slept.
Dirty clothes hung over the chair backs: overalls, plaid shirt. Dirty sneakers sat by the door, covered in mud.
"Where have you been?" Prime demanded as Casey stepped from the shower. "Where have you been?"
Casey gave him a cold look. "You wake the baby, you put her back to sleep."
" 'Where have you been?' I said!"
"Yeah, I heard you the first time."
"Well?"
"With your mother, planting bulbs and shrubs."
"You didn't-" Prime had been sure she had moved the body.
"No, of course not. But our friend has a spruce sticking out of his chest, as well as a new blanket of mulch."
"You... mulched him?"
"I bought a few extra trees, and when we ran out of room around the house, I suggested one by the road. You can't even tell the dirt was dug up now."
"Will it take? I mean a dead tree is like a spotlight."
Casey shrugged. "The guy at the tree nursery said it would."
Prime sighed.
"Can I dry my hair now?"
"Yeah, sorry."
Prime sat on the couch and stared at the wall. It scared him that he needed Casey so much. It terrified him that he was relying on her competence. He hadn't relied on anyone but himself since... since he couldn't remember.
He found himself shaking. All the fear and frustration seethed within him. He forced himself to breathe.
"Let it go," he whispered. "Let it go."
He exhaled again, slowly, staring at the wall.
"What's wrong?"
Casey stood wrapped in a towel, rubbing her hair dry.
"What?"
"You're crying."
"I'm crying?" He felt his face. It was wet with tears. "I didn't realize-"
Casey slid into his lap.
"What is it?"
Prime looked at her incredulously. "We've killed a man, is what. I've I've killed a man. And I was wrong." killed a man. And I was wrong."
She squeezed him. "Yes. That's all true."
"I'm so sorry, Casey. I'm sorry for what I've done to you. And what I've done to others," Prime said. He felt a sharp pain for what he had done to the Johnny Farm Boy from this universe, sending him alone into the unknown, never to return.
Prime looked into Casey's face. She was staring at him.
"What now?" he cried.
"I don't think I've ever heard you say that."
"What?"
"That you're sorry."
Prime was silent. "I am sorry."
"Because you're suffering?"
"No!"
"Then why?"
"I've-I've done bad things to people. Murder aside. I've hurt a lot of people."
Casey nodded. "That's true. A lot of different Caseys."
"Yes."
The next day at work, there was a rush job and everyone in overflow was called to the floor, except for him. He'd brought a book, however, so opened it to read. If they were going to pay him to sit, he'd at least entertain himself.
But an hour later, Ted Carson's father came by, glared at him, and said, "We're not paying you to read, Rayburn!"
"You're paying me to do nothing!" Prime replied.
"And you'll do just that!"
"Why can't I be on the shop floor?"
Carson stared at him. "I don't think I like your att.i.tude, Rayburn!"
"Good!"
"You mouthing me, boy?" Carson said. "Because if you are, we can go out back and finish this off."
Prime's chest thudded. How had he gotten so far over his head again? If he could have returned Carson's son, he would have.
"Forget it!" he said. Prime grabbed his book, his lunch pail, and his jacket.
"You walk out this door, Rayburn, and you're done here!"
"Good."
Prime pushed past him onto the floor. It seemed the entire factory was watching him as he walked down the aisle. His heart thudded. What was he doing? But he couldn't stay. He'd find another job. Casey could find a job, and he'd watch Abby.
He didn't bother to change, just clocked out and went to his car. The parking lot was alien, with all the cars motionless and empty. Usually the lanes were packed with cars heading for the bars and home. At mid-morning, the place reflected the fall sun off a thousand windshields.
The apartment was empty when he got there. He sat in the chair in the dining room, feeling at ease yet hyper-aware, wondering how Casey would take it all. She'd understand, he knew. He was suddenly proud of how strong she would be. The phone rang. He ignored it, letting it go to the machine.
He listened to Casey's voice on the tape, asking the caller to leave a message.
"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Rayburn. This is Yolanda Kemp. We met at your lawyer's offices last week. I realize it wasn't the best of circ.u.mstances. Something's come up, and frankly, we'd like you to help us. The sum of it is, the firm we've hired to build the Cube doesn't understand understand it. We've had some issues over your actions, but we've never doubted your enthusiasm. We need you as a part of the organization. An integral part. Call me when you get this message. You have my card. Thanks." it. We've had some issues over your actions, but we've never doubted your enthusiasm. We need you as a part of the organization. An integral part. Call me when you get this message. You have my card. Thanks."