“I thought,” said Max, his broken voice coming in gasps as the sobs stole his breath, “I thought . . . I was doing the . . . right thing.”
“How could a betrayal like that ever be the right thing?”
“Because . . . because . . . because he was no damn good for her,” said Max, catching his breath now between words. “Because he seduced her and impregnated her and then just left her there in that crappy little house. And she wouldn’t move on, she wouldn’t date, she wouldn’t do anything but wait for him. It broke my heart.”
“So you faked his death.”
“I helped him do it. Yeah, I admit it. But she was still pretty, still young. I thought with him out of the way, she’d find someone new. I thought you’d end up with a real father. I thought—”
“You thought wrong.”
“I know. God, I know. But she deserved better. And so did you. You don’t know how many times I tried to set her up. She wasn’t interested. She did nothing but mourn the bastard. And you did nothing but mourn him, too. And every time I saw you both after that, it broke my heart.”
“Fuck you and your broken heart,” said Kyle.
“You’re right.”
“Just go to hell.”
“Okay, I will.”
“Good.”
Max pulled his cigarette to his lips with shaking hands, took a drag, and then wiped his eyes with his other palm. Kyle drank from his beer and looked away.
“Is that it?” said Max.
“No.”
“There’s more?”
“Yeah.”
“Christ. Okay, whatever you want, Kyle. I’ll do anything. Anything to make it up to you.”
“You can’t.”
“I know.”
“Damn right you know.”
“I was afraid you might find out when you started nosing around into what happened to your dad.”
“Then why’d you tell me to look?”
“Because I wanted you to know what he was really like, to take your blinders off.”
“You put them there when you fake-killed him.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know?” Pause. “How’d you find out anyway?”
Kyle searched for some suspicion in Max’s eyes, found nothing but Max’s own tortured memories. “A cop,” Kyle said.
“Jesus. Are they coming after me?”
“No, they just think my father was murdered and the certificate was forged to hide the fact. But I figure if you were involved, there was no murder. You’re a jerk, but you’re not a killer.”
“You got that right. Of everything I am, I’m not that.”
“I still have some questions, though.”
“Okay. Sure. Whatever you want to know.”
“How did it happen? When exactly did you guys start planning this thing?”
“Can I get another beer before I tell you?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Talk.”
“Okay,” said Max. “It started when I still had my truck and was working for the funeral home. They had me delivering these bodies up to some place in Jersey for embalming. I could tell that something was wrong, there was too many bodies going up, and it was too hushhush. So I did some asking and found out they was stealing body parts and faking death certificates. The whole thing scared the hell out of me. So I decided to talk it out with a lawyer.”
“My dad.”
“Yeah, well, he was available, and he wouldn’t charge me, you know. I told him everything, and he told me to quit, but I ignored him and kept driving, because . . . hell, the money was good. I thought that was the end of it. But then, later, he came back to me with some questions.”
“When was this?”
“A week or so before the funeral. Over the phone. And then he mentioned the possibility of him getting one of them fake death certificates.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“He said he was in this real-estate thing, with a partner who was going to dissolve the partnership with a gun. And he had fallen into something that might be real money, but he didn’t know if he’d be alive to keep it. And there was other stuff. He just wanted to get away. I asked about you, and his Frenchie wife. He said he had taken out insurance, that everyone would be better off. I told him he was crazy. I told him to forget about it. But then . . .”
“He offered you money.”
“Yeah.”
“How much?”
“Does it matter? I didn’t do it for the money. I did it to get him the hell out of her life. Kyle, he was no damn good, I’m telling you. Anyone who would run like he did . . . well, I thought you was both better off without him.”
“So when you put the file cabinet in the house, you already knew he was going to fake his death and run away.”
“Yeah, he just wanted some stuff kept safe for after. Just in case.”
“How much did he pay you for the whole thing?”
“Fifteen.”
“In cash?”
“Yeah.”
“You sold yourself cheap, Max. Did he pay you up front?”
“Nah. I wanted it that way, but he said he was working on a couple things and could only make the payment right at the time. So he gave me the envelope on the ride up. My share and the twenty the doctor demanded. Thickest envelope I ever got in my life. I had some dead alky’s body in the back of the truck, someone who I was supposed to take to get dumped in some pauper’s grave. I just did the switcheroo and had them burn it. Simple as that.”
“Did my mother ever know?”
“Nah. I tried telling her once, after I realized there wasn’t going to be anyone else, but I chickened out. And then she got sick. And then what was the point?”
“You sold her out, Max.”
“Kyle, I didn’t do it for the money. I ended up giving her the fifteen anyway, and more. Plenty more.”
“Why?”
“For you. She had too much pride to ever ask for anything for herself, but she’d swallow it to ask for you. And the insurance money she got was less than she needed to keep going. Those braces you got, when you busted your arm, the money you needed for school after the scholarship went kablooey.”
“She would rather have had my father than the money.”
“Kyle, it wasn’t my idea. I just helped. He’d deserted her before, he was deserting her again. I thought finally getting rid of the creep would be good for her, is all. I’m sorry.”