The Return: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

what you call a fun trip.”
    “Really. What kind of trip is it, then? By the way, I was interested in your gear. A ton of cash. You’re packing enough artillery for a minor war, and I couldn’t help noticing Chole’s along for the ride. I peeked in there looking for something to eat. Unless that’s someone I don’t know.”
    Marder cranked up the truck and rolled it out onto the interstate. So far, so good. Keeping Skelly in the dark as long as possible was part of the plan. He did not bother asking how Skelly had entered a securely locked camper and inspected a locked suitcase, because he knew Skelly would say, Hey, I’m a security consultant.
    Skelly leaned back in the seat, adjusting its angle to a more comfortable slant. He pulled out and lit a cigarette. Marder rolled his window down.
    “And you’re going to stink up my new truck too.”
    “Am I going to get a lecture on secondhand smoke? Don’t pretend to be more of a pussy than you are, Marder. It’s unseemly. Face it—you’re going to Mexico and I’m coming with you.”
    Marder snapped a startled look at the other man. “How did you know I’m going to Mexico?”
    “I checked the email on your laptop. I see you’re still dealing with the lovely Nina. Are we still getting any in that quarter? No? A pity; it looks like a nice place. So you’re traveling to Michoacán with a lot of guns and a shitload of cash and won’t say why. That’s not characteristic of my pal Marder. So I’m thinking you’re in trouble and you need a friend to watch your six.”
    “I’m not in trouble and I don’t need my six watched. My six ? Now we’re talking army talk. Jesus, the war’s been over for forty years and we lost. Get over it.”
    “You never get over it, and if you think you’re over it you’re more of an asshole than you usually are. How about passing this semi here, unless you want to breathe diesel fart for the next hundred miles.”
    “There’s an airport in Richmond.”
    “I’m sure, but we’re not going there. Look, chief, I saved your life. We’re mutually entwined. Why do you think I let you hang out with me all these years and do all the shit I do for you? Believe me, it’s not your charm. I’m responsible for you, end of story.” Skelly yawned, stretched, and said, “And now I believe it’s rack time. Actually, I fell into conversation with a young lady in Mahoney’s last night, and with one thing and another I didn’t get much sleep. Wake me when we arrive at a point of historical or scenic interest.”
    With that, Skelly lay his cheek against the window glass and was asleep in thirty seconds. It was a talent he had, one that Marder envied. Skelly could sleep in a helicopter under fire. Marder had seen him do it many times; he’d seen him sleep through a rocket attack. He could sleep in mud, on concrete, and of course he’d be perfectly comfortable on the padded bench of the camper. His sleep seemed deep and genuine, but if anything occurred that needed his attention he would be instantly awake, focused, ready to receive information, act, or give orders.
    Marder drove past the Richmond exits. Of course, he was not going to take Skelly to any airport; he was going to take him to the house in Mexico. Mutual entwining, yes.
    The last time Marder had spent any extended time on the interstates was after the breakup of his first marriage a long time ago, when he’d driven a motorcycle from New York to Mexico, a fateful journey, and one that he was repeating now. The difference in mass between the camper and the Harley Shovelhead he’d ridden then, with his every earthly possession in the saddlebags, was indicative of the draggy accretions of maturity. He always looked back on that lightness as particularly sweet, and he wished to taste it again, if but a little. He could have bought a bike, but the thought of old guys on motorcycles violated his sense of seemliness, like an octogenarian wearing a miniskirt.
    He found that when