“A pistol. A real pistol.”
“One like this?” Harley said, pulling a snub-nosed revolver from inside his leather jacket and holding it below the dash.
“Like that,” Lacy said, “only bigger. And it was all bright, too, not like yours.”
“You’re sure?”
“I seen plenty of real guns,” Lacy said. “This was just like the ones the cops carry.”
“He say where he got it? Or if they have any more?”
“He said he got it from the Klan,” Lacy snorted. “But I don’t think so. I think I know where he got it.”
“Where?”
“From Dioguardi.”
“Dioguardi?” Harley said, consciously keeping his voice level. “Where’d you get that idea?”
“Where they have their clubhouse, that’s Dioguardi’s building,” Lacy said, defending, but not defensive. “Dioguardi’s got a storefront real close by, too-the one with the windows painted black? And tonight, just before you came, we saw his Imperial, parked in the exact same lot where the meet’s going to go down.”
“This… Ace is his name?… He was with him? With Dioguardi?”
“We couldn’t see inside the car. But it figures, right? I mean, where would the Klan have heard of some little club like the Hawks?”
1959 October 05 Monday 22:10
“Did you mean what you said before?” Tussy asked Dett.
“What?”
“That I couldn’t do anything wrong. With you, I mean?”
“Yes. That’s the truth.”
“Walker, how could you say such a thing?”
“I don’t know how I could say it,” Dett told her, as he turned onto Route 44, heading back toward town. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. When I said it, I knew it was. I don’t know how else to explain.”
“I guess we’ll find out,” she said, drumming her fingers lightly on the dashboard.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to keep talking to you.”
“I want to, too,” Dett said.
“I know. I just don’t want you to take what I’m going to say the wrong way.”
“I promise.”
“If you take me home now, I can’t invite you in. The neighbors… Some of them, they’ve known me since I was a little girl. And the others, they know I was divorced, so they all think I’m… you know.”
“I would never want you to-”
“And the only place I know in town-the only nice place, I mean-where we could sit quietly and talk this late is the diner, and I could never bring you there.”
“Oh,” Dett said, not understanding, but unwilling to say so.
“I know someplace. It’s out in the woods. Where some of the kids go to park. You know, like to-”
“Sure.”
“I want to go there,” Tussy said, firmly. “We could be alone, and talk some more. But I don’t want you to think I’m one of those-”
“I wouldn’t,” Dett said, solemnly. “Never.”
1959 October 05 Monday 22:16
“Are you crazy, calling me here? At this hour? What if my father had answered the phone?”
“I would have hung up,” Harley said to Kitty. “But I had to take the chance. I have to talk to you.”
“Talk?”
“Kitty, please. This is serious. Real serious. It’s about your brother.”
“If you’re just-”
“I’m not. Please, Kitty. I can’t tell you this on the phone. Can’t you just meet me by the back of-?”
“No! And if you come by here, everyone in the neighborhood will hear those loud mufflers of yours.”
“I already traded cars. For the night, I mean,” Harley added, hastily. “It’s a black Caddy.”
“Fit right in around here, huh?”
“Kitty, now’s not the time to be doing that. Will you meet me or not?”
“I could go over to Della’s house for an hour, maybe. But that’s all, Harley. When could you-?”
“I’m only a couple of blocks away,” Harley said, speaking urgently into a pay phone, one hand inside his leather jacket. “Just walk to the end of the block, I’ll pick you up.”
1959 October 05 Monday 22:43
“I haven’t been here in… God, I can’t even remember the last time I was here. But it is beautiful, isn’t it? You can see the moon right through the trees.”
“Want to sit outside?”
“Outside? I’m all dressed up, and we don’t even have a blanket or… or do you?” Tussy said, a faint hint of wariness edging her voice.
“A blanket?” Dett said. “No. Where would I get a blanket? I thought, maybe, you could sit on the hood of the car. On my jacket, I mean, so you wouldn’t mess up your dress.”
“You’d ruin your coat,” Tussy said. The little smile at the corners of her mouth seemed to reach inside her words.
“No, I wouldn’t. And that way, I could… see you better. They didn’t even let us sit across from each other in that restaurant.”
“Yes. Wasn’t that-?”
“I thought you’d feel better that way, too. Outside, I mean.”
“Me? Why? Oh!”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“What you said was just right, Walker. Come on, let’s do it, just like you said.”
Dett spread his jacket on the Buick’s broad hood. Tussy took his hand, put one foot on the heavy chrome bumper, and stepped, turning as she sat down. “It’s warm,” she said, giggling.
“It is,” Dett agreed. “More like summer than-”
“I meant, where I’m sitting,” Tussy said, hiding her face behind her hand. “From the engine.”
“Oh. Do you want to-?”
“It’s fine,” she said, fumbling in her purse.
Dett moved close to her, matches ready.
As he leaned in, Tussy kissed him on the cheek, so butterfly-soft that he couldn’t be sure if it had actually landed.
“You want to know all about me, don’t you?” she said.
“Yes.”
“That’s so strange.”
“What is?”
“Just that you’d want to know, for real. When people ask, they really don’t, mostly. They’re just being polite. But what’s so… strange is that I know it myself, somehow. That you truly want to, I mean.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t-”
Tussy blew a jet of cigarette smoke to stop Dett from talking. “After my mother had me, she couldn’t have any more children, the doctor said. She used to tell people that was fine with her, because I was more than enough for anyone to handle.
“I had such a lovely life. I never knew how lovely it was until it happened. When I was fifteen.”
Dett watched Tussy’s face intently, silently willing her to go on.
“My parents were killed,” she said, quietly. “People said it was an accident, and I guess it was. But I say ‘killed,’ because that’s what happened to them. They were coming home from the movies. It was pretty late, but I was up, because I was waiting for people to come home from the movies, too. I was babysitting, for the Taylor kids. I was a great babysitter. Everybody wanted me, because I was so reliable. I’d been doing it since I was eleven. I bought all my own clothes for school with the money I made, and I even had extra left. I was so proud of that.”
“Drunk driver?” Dett said.
“They were all drunk,” Tussy said, pain and sorrow twisted in her voice, “every single one of them in that car. It was just before Pearl Harbor. Everyone knew we were going to war, sooner or later. My dad had been in World War I. He always said that was supposed to be the last one, but there would never really be a last one, not with the way people are…”
Tussy’s voice trailed off. Dett descended into the silence with her; he stood immobile, as if any movement would frighten her away.
Tussy took a deep drag of her cigarette, blew the smoke out in a vicious jet of anger. “They were all college boys,” she said. “Seven of them, in one car. They were going like maniacs. My folks were stopped at a light. They came right through the red and just… smashed them to pieces.”