American Gods

Shadow stopped in his apartment, tossed the Minutes of the Lakeside City Council into a plastic grocery bag and brought it along. Hinzelmann might be down at the Buck, and he wanted to show him the mention of his grandfather.

They walked down the drive side by side.

He opened the garage door, and she started to laugh. “Omigod,” she said, when she saw the 4Runner. “Paul Gunther’s car. You bought Paul Gunther’s car. Omigod.”

Shadow opened the door for her. Then he went around and got in. “You know the car?”

“When I came up here two or three years ago to stay with Mags. It was me that persuaded him to paint it purple.”

“Oh,” said Shadow. “It’s good to have someone to blame.”

He drove the car out onto the street. Got out and closed the garage door. Got back into the car. Sam was looking at him oddly as he got in, as if the confidence had begun to leak out of her. He put on his seatbelt, and she said, “I’m scared. This was a stupid thing to do, wasn’t it? Getting into a car with a psycho-killer.”

“I got you safe home last time,” said Shadow.

“You killed two men,” she said. “You’re wanted by the Feds. And now I find out you’re living under an assumed name next door to my sister. Unless Mike Ainsel is your real name?”

“No,” said Shadow, and he sighed. “It’s not.” He hated saying it. It was if he was letting go of something important, abandoning Mike Ainsel by denying him, as if he were taking his leave of a friend.

“Did you kill those men?”

“No.”

“They came to my house, and said we’d been seen together. And this guy showed me photographs of you. What was his name—Mister Hat? No. Mister Town. That was him. It was like The Fugitive. But I said I hadn’t seen you.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” she said. “Tell me what’s going on. I’ll keep your secrets if you keep mine.”

“I don’t know any of yours,” said Shadow.

“Well, you know that it was my idea to paint this thing purple, thus forcing Paul Gunther to become such an object of scorn and derision for several counties around that he was forced to leave town entirely. We were kind of stoned,” she admitted.

“I doubt that bit of it’s much of a secret,” said Shadow. “Everyone in Lakeside must have known. It’s a stoner sort of purple.”

And then she said, very quiet, very fast, “If you’re going to kill me please don’t hurt me. I shouldn’t have come here with you. I am so dumb. I am so fucking fucking dumb. I should have run away or called the cops when I first saw you. I can identify you. Jesus. I am so dumb.”

Shadow sighed. “I’ve never killed anybody. Really. Now I’m going to take you to the Buck,” he said. “Or if you give the word, I’ll turn this car around and take you home. I’ll buy you a drink, if you’re actually old enough to drink, and I’ll buy you a soda if you’re not. Then I’ll take you back to Marguerite, deliver you safe and sound, and hope you aren’t going to call the cops.”

There was silence as they crossed the bridge.

“Who did kill those men?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“I would.” She sounded angry now. He wondered if bringing the wine to the dinner had been a wise idea. Life was certainly not a Cabernet right now.

“It’s not easy to believe.”

“I,” she told him, “can believe anything. You have no idea what I can believe.”

“Really?”