arms out wide, as if offering up his life to the truth. “I hadn’t seen Spaulding in months. And what the hell would I take? I told them, but they didn’t believe me. They ripped the place apart, looking for I don’t know what. Then they broke my nose and told me nobody messes with Spaulding and his races.”
“They used the word ‘races’?” I asked.
He nodded. “They said I had twenty-four hours to return it, or I was a dead man.” Nick paused and looked at me. “And they weren’t kidding. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew Kelli had something to do with it. I sat in the dark waiting for her to come home. When I told her about the visit from Spaulding’s men, she looked me up and down and laughed. She just laughed. Here I am with a bloody nose, a black eye, they threatened to kill me, and she’s laughing. Then she did a turn around—she does that a lot. You know, one minute she accuses you of cheating on her, lying to her, or something, and the next minute she’s saying she loves you, hugging you, kissing you. Anyway, she tried to hug me, but I’d had enough. I pushed her away, took off my wedding ring, and threw it at her feet. Then I left, with her yelling at me to come back. I hadn’t packed; I didn’t take any keys, just the clothes on my back. I must have walked for hours trying to figure this out. And I’ve been in hiding ever since.”
“How does Stephen fit into this? What made you call him?”
“Right after Lou’s men left, I found a piece of paper with his name on it in the mess in the bedroom those two left.”
“You mean Stephen’s name?” I asked.
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” His voice was sharp and annoyed. Flint stepped forward protectively. Nick became docile again. “I think the paper fell out of one of Kelli’s drawers when they pulled everything out. I’d never seen it before. At the time, one of the names on the list seemed familiar, so I picked up the note and put it in my pocket. I
didn’t remember Stephen was your cousin until the night I called his wife, when it came back to me. I’d met him at a New Year’s party back when you and I were married.
“Once I realized, well, seeing Stephen’s name on anything connected with Lou Spaulding was scary, so I called to warn him. I would have kept calling until I reached him, but my cellphone ran out of juice, and I didn’t have my charger. I didn’t have any money to buy one, either.”
“Tell me about the races,” I said.
“What races?” His voice gained an exasperated edge, adding to the fear and impatience. “The first I learned about any of this was the day I found that paper. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I’m scared. Those men find me…I’m dead. I know that much.”
“Show me this piece of paper.” I put out my hand.
He thought for a moment, reached inside his jeans, and hesitated before turning it over to me.
I unfolded the three by five inch lined sheet, torn from a small notepad. On it were written seven names. The top one was Stephen’s. I scanned the rest of the list and found the name Gurn Hanson at the bottom. I fought to keep my cool about the man I loved being on a possible dead man’s list. No small feat for a Latina who wears her emotions on her sleeves. Besides, I had talked to Gurn several hours ago. He was fine.
Ignoring the thudding heart inside my chest, I studied the list. After each name was a date, some past, some future. Then the phrase ‘take out’ and a set of numbers, followed by the letter ‘K.’ The date next to Gurn’s name was the Sunday coming up, seven days. Whatever was going on, we had to stop it by then.
“Whose handwriting is this?” I asked. “Do you recognize it?” Nick shook his head and looked down.
I passed the note to Flint, who studied it, while I turned back to Nick. “What do the numbers mean? The ones followed by the letter ‘K’? Does the ‘K’ mean the length of a race?”
“I’m telling
“They used the word ‘races’?” I asked.
He nodded. “They said I had twenty-four hours to return it, or I was a dead man.” Nick paused and looked at me. “And they weren’t kidding. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew Kelli had something to do with it. I sat in the dark waiting for her to come home. When I told her about the visit from Spaulding’s men, she looked me up and down and laughed. She just laughed. Here I am with a bloody nose, a black eye, they threatened to kill me, and she’s laughing. Then she did a turn around—she does that a lot. You know, one minute she accuses you of cheating on her, lying to her, or something, and the next minute she’s saying she loves you, hugging you, kissing you. Anyway, she tried to hug me, but I’d had enough. I pushed her away, took off my wedding ring, and threw it at her feet. Then I left, with her yelling at me to come back. I hadn’t packed; I didn’t take any keys, just the clothes on my back. I must have walked for hours trying to figure this out. And I’ve been in hiding ever since.”
“How does Stephen fit into this? What made you call him?”
“Right after Lou’s men left, I found a piece of paper with his name on it in the mess in the bedroom those two left.”
“You mean Stephen’s name?” I asked.
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” His voice was sharp and annoyed. Flint stepped forward protectively. Nick became docile again. “I think the paper fell out of one of Kelli’s drawers when they pulled everything out. I’d never seen it before. At the time, one of the names on the list seemed familiar, so I picked up the note and put it in my pocket. I
didn’t remember Stephen was your cousin until the night I called his wife, when it came back to me. I’d met him at a New Year’s party back when you and I were married.
“Once I realized, well, seeing Stephen’s name on anything connected with Lou Spaulding was scary, so I called to warn him. I would have kept calling until I reached him, but my cellphone ran out of juice, and I didn’t have my charger. I didn’t have any money to buy one, either.”
“Tell me about the races,” I said.
“What races?” His voice gained an exasperated edge, adding to the fear and impatience. “The first I learned about any of this was the day I found that paper. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I’m scared. Those men find me…I’m dead. I know that much.”
“Show me this piece of paper.” I put out my hand.
He thought for a moment, reached inside his jeans, and hesitated before turning it over to me.
I unfolded the three by five inch lined sheet, torn from a small notepad. On it were written seven names. The top one was Stephen’s. I scanned the rest of the list and found the name Gurn Hanson at the bottom. I fought to keep my cool about the man I loved being on a possible dead man’s list. No small feat for a Latina who wears her emotions on her sleeves. Besides, I had talked to Gurn several hours ago. He was fine.
Ignoring the thudding heart inside my chest, I studied the list. After each name was a date, some past, some future. Then the phrase ‘take out’ and a set of numbers, followed by the letter ‘K.’ The date next to Gurn’s name was the Sunday coming up, seven days. Whatever was going on, we had to stop it by then.
“Whose handwriting is this?” I asked. “Do you recognize it?” Nick shook his head and looked down.
I passed the note to Flint, who studied it, while I turned back to Nick. “What do the numbers mean? The ones followed by the letter ‘K’? Does the ‘K’ mean the length of a race?”
“I’m telling
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