“My granddaughter. She was twelve years old. Her body was found south of Pueblo.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Before the run-in at the café, you never had any contact with Darrel Vickers?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Say again?”
“I have blackouts.”
“That’s a little different from what you told me before.”
“Sir, I’m done with this.”
“Would you like to see the picture of my granddaughter when she was lifted out of an oil tank?”
“I’m not the cause of your problem.”
“I’m glad you cleared that up for me.” He slipped the photo back in the envelope, his fingers shaking. “Darrel Vickers lived with his mother in Denver when he was a child. A girl on the next street was asphyxiated in an abandoned refrigerator. Darrel was seen with her a few hours earlier.”
“Why do you keep telling me about Darrel Vickers?”
“Because I think Darrel killed the little girl. Because I know he and his friends are muling dope from the border. Because I want you to wear a wire.”
“I won’t do it.”
“That’s your final word?”
“Want me to write it in the dust on your dashboard?”
“Get out of my car.”
* * *
MR. LOWRY TOLD me to take three days off with full pay and dropped me off in his big Buick at Jo Anne’s house. He stuck a twenty-dollar bill in my shirt pocket.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“Get yourself some fresh clothes and take your girlfriend to dinner and a movie.”
“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Lowry.”
“You’re a good boy, Aaron. So is Spud and so is Cotton. Fellows like you are the salt of the earth. Don’t let anybody tell you different.”
Then he drove away. I walked up into the shade of Jo Anne’s porch. I had called earlier but had mentioned nothing about my encounter with Rueben Vickers. Yesterday I had taken Jo Anne to breakfast, then had returned to the Lowry farm. I probably hadn’t spent more than an aggregate of three hours with her. I had not even held her hand. Yet I felt I had known her for years. Know the song “Born to Be with You” by the Chordettes? I couldn’t get it out of my head. I wanted to hold her against me. I wanted to smell her hair and kiss her neck. I wondered if I was going crazy.
She must have seen me out the window. She jerked open the door. “What happened to you?”
“I straightened out Rueben Vickers and his son. Mr. Lowry said I should take you to dinner and a movie.”
“You look like you climbed out of a concrete mixer.”
Before I could answer, she pulled me inside, glancing back at the two-lane state road as she shut the door.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“My boss called this morning and said he had to let me go.”