I said, “I have some questions for DJ.”
He reacted with surprise to his own name. “Uh. Okay.”
“Octavio Prado.”
“Who?”
Regina said, “The writer.”
“Oh,” he said.
“You don’t have to talk to them,” Jenelle said.
“No,” DJ said. “It’s... It’s okay.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”
“Mom. It’s okay.” He licked his lips. “What about him.”
“Everything you know,” Regina said. “From the beginning.”
“Um... yeah. So... so, Beau heard from his dad about this guy come to town. He wanted to go meet him.”
“Why?”
“He thought it was neat. He never met a real writer. The guy... Shit. What’s his name?”
“Prado.”
“Prado,” he repeated, as if studying for a final exam. “He had a house he was renting. We went over, and he let us in. Beau was asking him questions. Like, where do you get ideas?”
“Did Prado tell you why he was in Swann’s Flat?” I asked.
“He said he was looking for God.” DJ shook his head. “That, I remember ’cause it was a pretty weird thing to say, you know?”
“Sure,” I said. “Did you see a manuscript?”
“A what?”
“Loose pages,” Regina said.
“Oh. Yeah. That. Yeah, he showed it to us. Like this shitload of paper. I thought it looked stupid but Beau thought it was the greatest thing ever. He was real excited. Went home and started writing his own story. He was working on it for a while, then me and him brought it over to... To Prado. This time he didn’t look so friendly, you know? He goes, ‘I have to work, leave it and I’ll get to it in a few days.’ He was sort of blocking the doorway, so we couldn’t see in. But you could tell there was someone else in there with him. Beau told me, ‘Go around and look through the window.’ I go and it’s Leonie Swann.”
“What were she and Prado doing?”
“You mean... doing it? Uh-uh. Nothing like that. Just sitting on the floor, talking.”
“What was the mood?”
“Huh?”
“Were they happy? Sad? Angry.”
“I mean,” he said. “I dunno. I just ran out of there. I didn’t want to get caught.”
“All right,” I said. “What happened next?”
“Beau went to ask Prado about his story. He was happy ’cause Prado liked it. After that he started visiting him a couple times a week, bringing him things to read.”
“Did you go, too?”
“Not usually. It was boring. I didn’t have nothing to say, and the two of them together was...” DJ interlaced his fingers. “I mean, he’s a lot smarter than me, Beau is.”
Jenelle said, “Beau used to make fun of him. Telling him he’s dumb, he’ll work for him one day like Dave worked for his daddy.”
DJ colored.
Jenelle patted his arm. “You got nothing to be ashamed of, baby.”
“Whatever, it’s... I don’t care.”
I said, “Did you ever see Prado and Leonie together again?”
“Just the once,” DJ said.
“Kurt was jealous of him,” Jenelle said.
“Prado?” I asked.
She nodded.
“You know that how?” Regina asked.
“I saw it myself. He was having dinner at the hotel. Kurt busts in, grabs him off the stool. ‘Stay away from my wife.’ He threw him out on his ass and told him to get gone. Then he told me I’m not allowed to rent him a room.”
“That’s when Prado went to you,” Regina said to Al.
He said, “I suppose so.”
I said, “But you didn’t know about him and Leonie. Or the incident with Kurt.”
“No, sir.”
I turned to Jenelle. “And you didn’t tell Al about what you’d witnessed.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “We weren’t together then.”
“All right, DJ. Let’s keep going. Beau and Prado are spending time together.”
“Yeah.”
“Did something change?”
“I mean.” His knee was jogging rapidly. “Sort of.”
“He was just a kid,” Jenelle said.
Regina and I let the silence stretch.
“Okay, so what it was,” DJ said. “Me and Beau, we’re hanging out at the garage. Prado rolls up, asks to buy some gas. He’s leaving town. Beau’s all, ‘You can’t leave,’ and Prado says he has to, they won’t let him stay no more.”
“ ‘They’ meaning Kurt,” Regina said.
“I dunno. I guess. Beau’s like, ‘Lemme talk to my dad, he’ll fix it.’ The guy got scared. ‘No no, don’t do that.’ It started off like that, but pretty soon it got out of hand. He’s like, ‘Gimme the fucking gas,’ and Beau’s all, ‘Don’t sell it to him.’ They’re yelling at each other. Then Prado, he goes, ‘Fuck you, you’re a needy little bitch, you suck, your stories suck.’ Beau heard that, he just...” DJ shuddered. “Snapped. He grabbed a, a wrench, and...”
He trailed off.
“You see?” Jenelle said. “I told you it wasn’t his fault.”
“My dad heard them fighting,” DJ said. “He comes out, sees the guy lying there with his head bashed in. He phones Emil to come over. When he got there, Beau tells them he didn’t mean to kill the guy, it was an accident. Emil said, ‘You oughta be more careful.’ But he was looking at me when he said it. Like it was me done it, not Beau.”
“What happened with the body?” I asked.
“My dad took it out on the boat and threw it in the ocean. He had me clean out the guy’s car. Took forever, it was so full of shit. I had to keep emptying the burn barrel.”
“And the manuscript?”
“I didn’t get to it yet before Beau turns up, asking what did I do with it. I told him it’s in the trunk. He had me take it to the post office and mail it.”
“How did he know where to send it?”
“There was like a little book in the car, with addresses and stuff. Beau kept it after he killed him. Like a souvenir.”
“Did he tell you why he wanted to send in the manuscript?”
“He said it’s a good book, people deserve to read it. I brought it with me next time I went to pick up the mail. Then, like a week later, he started freaking out. He was worried they’d find him and he’d get arrested. He told me drive back and get it from them. The lady told me sorry, too late. So I went home. But Beau was antsy as hell for a long time.”
“Waiting for the cops to show up.”
DJ nodded. “His dad musta noticed. He sat Beau down and started asking him questions till he blabbed. Emil had him write a letter, pretending to be the guy, so they’d think he wasn’t here no more. I guess it worked, you know? ’Cause they never came.”
He sat back. “That’s the only time I know of Emil hit him. When he made Beau write that letter.”
“Not after killing Prado,” I said.
“Nah. That didn’t bother him. But after the mail thing, he gave Beau a black eye. Broke his tooth, too. Beau was like, ‘I’m gonna kill that motherfucker.’ ” Faint smile. “I told him, ‘You get used to it.’ ”
Jenelle bit her lip. DJ looked at her.
“Aw, it’s all right,” he said.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Mom. Don’t. Hey. Hey. It’s all right.”
He drew her into his arms, shushing her as she wept quietly.
Al Bock turned to me and Regina. “Let’s get up there before we lose the light.”
Chapter 44
We caravanned out to the crash site.
While Al examined the tree, Regina stared at Emil’s skewered body. The first blowflies had arrived, congregating around his mouth and nostrils. The bloodstains on his clothes, the upholstery, and the ceiling were dry, though the pool surrounding him remained semi-viscous, clumping up and losing its shine.