Go With Me Read Online Free PDF

minute?”
    “We?” Fitzgerald said.
    Lester beckoned toward the truck, and Nate and Lillian got out and came to the house to stand with Lester. Fitzgerald watched them unhappily from the doorway.
    “Who’s she?” he asked Lester.
    “Blackway’s been making trouble for her,” said Lester. “We’re trying to get it sorted out.”
    “Blackway?” said Fitzgerald. He stepped back from the doorway and tried to shut the door against them, but Lester put out his hand and held it.
    “Fred?” he asked.
    “Oh,” Fitzgerald said. “Sure.” He stepped back and let them into the house. A little brown dog, some kind of terrier, yapped at them from behind Fitzgerald’s legs as they entered.
    “Shut up,” Fitzgerald told the dog. He closed the door and turned the lock. Then he rattled the door to make sure it was tight.
    “I’m a little under the weather, here,” said Fitzgerald.
    “I can see,” said Lester.
    “Been up all night,” said Fitzgerald.
    Lester nodded.
    “Night before, too,” said Fitzgerald. “Truth is, I’ve been pretty shitfaced. Cynthia doesn’t like me to start drinking in the morning.”
    “How is Cynthia?”
    “Like me. Worse. She took a sleeping pill. Went to bed.”
    “You ought to do the same.”
    “Can’t,” said Fitzgerald.
    “What about Heidi?” Lester asked him. “Where’s she?”
    “She’s at school,” said Fitzgerald. “She doesn’t know.”
    “Know what?”
    “You want coffee?” Fitzgerald asked them.
    “No,” said Lillian. Nate shook his head.
    “Sure,” said Lester.
    “Come on,” Fitzgerald said. He turned and wobbled ahead of them toward the kitchen. When the others started after him, Fitzgerald’s dog began barking at them all over again.
    “Shut up,” Fitzgerald told the dog.
    In the kitchen Fitzgerald waved them toward a round table with four chairs. On the table were two or three dirty glasses and a halfempty bottle of Jim Beam. On the table as well lay a big Colt revolver, loaded.
    Lester took a chair and sat at the table where he could watch Fitzgerald. Nate and Lillian remained standing. Lester looked at the revolver on the table. With his forefinger he gently pushed its barrel around so it pointed off to the side.
    “What’s this for, Fred?” Lester asked Fitzgerald.
    “I’ve been sitting out here,” Fitzgerald said. He was at the stove. He made two cups of instant coffee and carried them, one at a time, to the table. He sat across from Lester and picked up the bottle. He held the bottle over Lester’s coffee cup, waiting.
    “Sure,” said Lester.
    Fitzgerald poured whiskey into Lester’s coffee, then into his own. He set the bottle down.
    “What’s this for?” Lester asked again.
    Fitzgerald drank from his cup.
    “How do you mean?” he asked.
    “Come on, Fred.”
    Fitzgerald’s little dog seemed to have taken against Lillian, who stood behind Lester’s chair. The dog began yapping at her. Lillian knelt and held out her hand for the dog to approach, but it backed away from her and kept on yapping.
    “Shut up,” Fitzgerald told the dog.
    “We’re looking for Blackway,” Lester said.
    “Then you’re drunker than I am,” said Fitzgerald.
    “Fred?”
    “He was here,” said Fitzgerald. He looked at the revolver on the table. “That was my uncle Joe’s,” he said. “He was a game warden. You remember him?”
    “Sure,” said Lester.
    “He carried it,” Fitzgerald went on. “The shells were his, too. Joe’s been dead for twenty years. I don’t even know if they’d fire anymore.”
    “What happened with Blackway?” Lester asked him.
    “I saw Joe fire it once when I was a little kid,” Fitzgerald said. “He couldn’t get it to hit a god damned thing.”
    “What happened, Fred?”
    “Makes a pretty good bang, though,” Fitzgerald said.
    “Fred?”
    “Listen,” said Fitzgerald.“Blackway and I weren’t ever friends or anything. It was a business thing. Blackway knows a lot of people: people that have