A Small Gray Dot

My client had given me a respectable retainer – a hell of a lot better than what I’d seen in a long time – and on top of that, allotted a nice amount for expenses. This was not the time to get cheap. I didn’t mind paying for good information and it could’ve been worse: he could’ve charged me more.

This all ran through my head as I studied the pool table. I called the pockets and took my shot and it was a good thing we weren’t playing for money or I’d have been forking over more than the one-fifty I handed Cue. I like to shoot pool and I’m good at it, but not many were as good as Cue – including me.

He grinned, showing what was left of his yellowed and crooked teeth, and pocketed the cash. He set his cue stick down and began talking.

A few minutes into his complicated directions, I stopped him and asked, “Why don’t you go with me as a guide? I’ll pay you.”

He shot me the eye and snorted before saying, “I’ll draw ya a map. I done took my last trip that way. You ain’t got enough money to pay me ta go back ’cross that shit agin.”

Definitely not a pal, but, I understood.

Cue didn’t mention how he figured out how to navigate the strip. I got the feeling it was something he didn’t want to talk about so I didn’t bring it up. As long as it worked, that wasn’t important for me to know.

I also never asked him his reason for going to Blue Heaven at night just as he didn’t ask me why I was going. It wasn’t the sort of question you asked, though he probably guessed I was going to look for someone since he knew I was a tracker. But given that he’d done it more than once I was betting it was because of a woman. Or a good game of pool.

As soon as it was dark, I headed for the strip.

Chapter Twenty-one

I PARKED MY JEEP AT THE EDGE OF THE GULLY, and then half-walked half-slid through the brush and down the side. I stood there checking out the shriveled and lifeless trees, remembering what Cue had said in that whisky-and-cigarette voice of his: “They’s some trails an’ ain’t none of ‘em good but ya use th’ one I tell ya an’ you’ll git there. But ya cain’t jist go bustin’ in all slow an’ noisy. You gotta be fast wit’ it an’ ya gotta keep quiet an’ stay low.”

I took a deep breath and as fast and quietly as I could, set my feet on the path he mapped out for me to follow through the dry foliage and crispy brown weeds.

The minute I started into the place, the clear night lit by a nearly full moon and a starry sky started going dim, and the farther I went the more the light diminished as Blue Heaven’s ever-present haze seemed to roll itself out across the sky like a sheet of dark gauze. I strained my eyes and practically had to feel my way around the dark patches that Cue said to avoid.

I’d asked, “You think those will still be there?”

“Near as I can tell they don’t move. Ev’ry time I went, they was in th’ same spots.”

“Well, what are they?”

“Now how th’ hell I’m gonna know? I damn sho warn’t stupid ‘nough to step in an’ try ‘em out. Jist don’t walk through ‘em!” He glared at me. “Now shut up an’ listen ‘fo yo one-fifty runs out.”

So I’d shut up and listened.

The night was only marginally lighter than the dark patches. They were tough to make out, but what ever they were, they didn’t move. I hoped it stayed that way. I had him go over his crude map several times, and I committed it to memory but the trail was barely discernable and with it being a downhill slope and having to step off the path several times to get around the inky blotches, it was a bitch keeping to it. I’d mentioned that I had a flashlight, but Cue said not to use it.

“No flashlights, no torches. You go usin’ a light an’ th’ wrong thang gonna see it. Keep it off ‘til ya git inside Blue Heaven. It’s okay ta use it then.” For emphasis, he glared at me and sternly added, “But don’ go turnin’ it on befo’!”

I paid for his advice so I left it off.

I kept my mind on my goal and reached the bottom where the gully flattened out, without mishap. I got through the trees and across that, and started up the other side. I estimated I was about two-thirds of the way through when I heard a rustling noise. As Cue told me to do, I stopped still. I held my breath and listened over the sudden loud drumming of my pulse. I tried to pinpoint a direction but the noise stopped and I didn’t see anything so after a second or two, I gulped in cold air and continued up the path.

A few steps later the rustling came back. It was closer. Praying I hadn’t messed up by not keeping still the first time I heard it, I stopped and froze in place.

He’d warned, “You gonna hear and see thangs an’ ya don’t have to stop for everythang but if ya hear a sorta crinklin’ sound like som’thin’s comin’ through dead leaves, stop real still an’ wait. Don’t holler about what ya see. Keep quiet an’ it’ll pass. After that git yo ass to movin’. They’s a bare strip at th’ top when ya git outta th’ trees. Give it a good look ‘fore ya cross, then git to th’ wall an’ find that openin’ quick.”

“What’ll I see?”