“Maybe-but I’m running out of next times,” Purkhiser replied. “Come Friday, I’m leaving Springfield and never looking back. Onward and upward. Sayonara and good rid
dance. I just hope I beat this fucking thing before I go.”
“Why?”
“A fella’s gotta leave his mark somehow. Ain’t no point floating through life like a ghost.” Purkhiser took a quarter from his pocket and rolled it idly up and down his knuckles. The move looked more practiced than cool. “Wait- why’re you so interested in me and my high score? You’re not KNH, are you?”
“No, Eric-I’m not KNH. But I am here to talk to you.”
At the mention of his real name, Purkhiser blanched. The quarter fell from his hand.
“What did you call me?”
“You heard me fine the first time.”
“My name’s not Eric, it’s Eddie. You must have me confused with someone else.”
“I don’t. Now, listen: you’re in danger. I’m here to help you get back out of it. I can explain more once we’re somewhere safe. But you have to come with me right now, okay?”
Purkhiser swallowed hard. Nodded slowly.
Then he shoved Hendricks and bolted.
Hendricks sighed. Fine, he thought-we’ll play it your way.
At the sound of Purkhiser fleeing the arcade, the sole employee jerked awake and rose, startled, from his stool. Purkhiser grabbed him by the shoulders and propelled him toward Hendricks with all he had. He threw the stool at Hendricks, too, and knocked down the gumball machine on his way out of the arcade. The former sailed wide and slammed into a Donkey Kong machine. The latter shattered when it hit the floor, scattering shards of glass and gumballs everywhere.
Hendricks caught the stunned arcade employee, steadying him before he toppled over. Then he took off after Purkhiser at a sprint, gumballs crunching underfoot.
Purkhiser cut across the food court, climbing tables and knocking over chairs-anything to separate himself from Hendricks. When he peeked back over his shoulder, he slammed into a man in an apron, sending a tray of Panda Express samples flying. Both men went down, but Purkhiser bounced back up like he was spring-loaded. He winged the empty tray in Hendricks’s direction and took off down the hall toward Westlake Plaza’s main concourse.
Hendricks closed the gap between them, ignoring shouts of anger and alarm from those he passed. He ignored the mall’s security cameras, too; they were hardwired to the security booth-a dated system-and he’d cut their feed as soon as he’d arrived. But if he didn’t calm Purkhiser down soon, mall security was going to be an issue. Even if they were armed, they didn’t pose much of a threat, but if he had to hurt one of them it would no doubt make the evening news.
Purkhiser dodged his way down the broad hall-trying his best to put as many people between him and Hendricks as he could. Hendricks juked around an old man on a Rascal scooter and leapt over a stroller when a panicked mother froze.
He caught a break when Purkhiser reached the mall’s main atrium and tried to head up the down escalator. As he struggled against the tide of people and stairs, Hendricks hopped on the up escalator and glided past. Then he planted a hand in between the escalators, and vaulted onto the down one, three steps ahead of Purkhiser. Purkhiser pirouetted, flashing Muppet eyes at Hendricks, and took off down the escalator-but not before Hendricks got a hold of a fistful of his hair-pomade greasy in his hand. Eric screamed as Hendricks yanked him backward.
“Calm down, Eric-I’m trying to help you!”
“My name’s not Eric!” Purkhiser replied. He threw a wild elbow that caught Hendricks in the eye, and wriggled free. Then he burst off the escalator and tore across the atrium-splashing straight into its massive, rust-stained central water fountain.
Hendricks gave chase for a moment, and then stopped.
Mall security ringed the atrium, their Tasers drawn.
Hendricks raised his hands above his head.
Purkhiser, dripping wet and panting at the center of the fountain, smiled.
“You boys want to tell me what the problem is?” The man speaking was in his late fifties. Decent shape. Bushy mustache. Brush cut beneath his uniform cap. No wannabe, this guy, Hendricks thought; he looked like a cop who went private once he put in his twenty.
“Yeah, asshole,” said Purkhiser. “How about you tell the nice man why you’re chasing me?”
“Sure,” Hendricks said. His expression was neutral, his voice calm. “Officer, this no-good greaser stole my wallet.”
Purkhiser laughed. “I what?”
“Eddie,” the mall cop said, “is this true?”
“True? It’s goddamn ridiculous, is what it is. Why would I take some random dude’s wallet?”
“I don’t know why he took it, but he took it,” Hendricks said. “Search his pockets if you don’t believe me.”
“C’mon out of there,” the mall cop said. Purkhiser sloshed to the edge of the fountain and stepped out. “Now empty your pockets.”
“Gladly,” Purkhiser replied. But when he reached into his right front pocket, his face dropped-and his hand came out with an unfamiliar wallet.
“You son of a bitch,” Purkhiser said.
Hendricks didn’t react-but inside, he was all smiles. He’d seen the guards approaching during his ride on the escalator and planted the wallet when he and Purkhiser tussled seconds later, as insurance against this very eventuality.
“Let me see the wallet, son.”
Purkhiser reluctantly handed it to the mall cop. The mall cop glanced inside, and then gave it to Hendricks. “Well, Mr. Allard, it seems you’re telling the truth. Although I wish you’d simply notified security instead of chasing this idiot around my mall.”
“Please, Officer, call me Kent,” Hendricks replied. “And you’re right-I wasn’t thinking.”
“Would you like to press charges?”
“No,” Hendricks said, fixing Purkhiser with his gaze. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”
“I suppose he has, at that. C’mon, Eddie-you and me are going to go fill out an incident report. And when we’re done, you won’t be welcome back here anymore. I hope you got that high score of yours this morning.”
Purkhiser’s expression curdled. Hendricks blinked flatly back at him.
“So I’m free to go?” Hendricks asked.
“Yes, Mr. Allard, you’re free to go.”
15
Purkhiser spent an hour trying to convince security he was innocent, shivering in his wet clothes all the while. He explained that he’d been set up. That this Allard dude was after him. He’d even gone so far as to ask them to review the security footage-he was sure it would exonerate him. But apparently, there was some kind of mall-wide security camera outage, so he had no choice but to back away from his claims. Without evidence-or disclosing the fact that he was in hiding from the Mob-even Purkhiser was forced to admit he sounded like a loon.
Eventually, they released him-two guards escorting Purkhiser from the building and into the falling dusk. The mall parking lot was nearly empty. Most of its lights had yet to turn on, although a couple early risers flickered to life as night descended. Only three cars were in sight. Purkhiser’s rusted-out Buick Skylark sat a ways out from the other two, its windows reflecting the sky’s fading orange.
Purkhiser stood there for a moment-watching, waiting, looking for any sign of Allard. He was sure the name was an alias, but he had nothing else to call the guy. He told himself the parking lot was too big for one man to keep track of. That loads of cars had come and gone since he’d been detained. That there was no reason to think Allard knew which one was his. But he still sprinted to the car like a runner stealing home and unlocked it with jittering hands- peering wildly around the lot the whole time.
He ducked inside, slammed the door, and jammed the key into the ignition. As he turned the key, he closed his eyes, half-expecting the car to explode.