The Killing Moon: A Novel

"So, with my father having been his partner, Pinty watched out for me growing up. My mother couldn't always hold everything together, so he helped me. Wanted big things for me." Donny laughed once through his nose. "Yeah. I'm a model son."

He was off the bed fast, turning the air-conditioning back up, standing before the blowing vent. It surprised her, hearing him talk like this. "You couldn't have stayed with her forever."

"No? Probably not. But where does the debt end?"

"I don't know. But if you ever figure it out, please tell me. I'm still paying. Every single day." It never occurred to Tracy that they had this in common: single-parent mothers. "I mean, she's deaf, okay? But she's totally self-sufficient, she can do everything for herself. Except run the farm single-handedly. Now, could she hire help? Of course she could. But she would much rather guilt me into staying. The truth is, she's afraid of being alone. Do you know she doesn't even ask where I go these nights? 'A friend's house' is all I tell her. Never once has she pressed. She knows damn well by now it's a guy. That her only daughter is 'running around.'" She smiled. "But to force the issue might piss me off, and give me that nudge I need to go away. My mother lives basically in fear of me, the most unhealthy relationship possible. I mean—can you imagine if I ever came right out and told her I was sleeping with a Black Falls cop?"

Donny said, "All the more reason not to."

"I guess." She rolled over onto her hip, turning more toward him. "Are there other reasons? Myself, I wouldn't mind holding hands in public, even just once."

"Because it's best."

"Best…for you? I don't see how it's best for me."

"This is a small town. The other cops don't like me much."

"Well, that's dramatic," she said. "I mean, I kind of liked sneaking around at first. It's getting a little old now. Sometimes it seems like this way just makes it easier for you to break it off with me when the time comes."

He checked her, maybe looking for a smile. She didn't have one for him.

"You never wanted to get mixed up with a local girl," she said. "Did you. You're so afraid of getting trapped here. Of winding up like everyone else."

She watched him brood on that, and noticed that he didn't tell her she was mistaken. "This arrangement is unfair to you," he said. "I know that. But I've been up front—"

"Please. Don't."

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I have been crystal clear, exactly so that there are no illusions. I am just passing through here."

"Donny—"

"I'm not doing this to be cruel. This is because I don't want to hurt you."

"Just stop, please. You have to not talk like that. Not after I just cleaned you off me with tissues."

Sometimes he looked angry when he was only thinking.

"Please," she said. "Just lie down next to me and shut up now. Please."

And he did. The room was quiet except for the air conditioner rattling the window. She lay on her side behind him, sad now, and sad about feeling sad.

After a while he laid his hand over her hip, and she didn't move away. She never slept, and he didn't seem to either.

She climbed into her truck before dawn, activating the garage door opener he had given her, the one thing of his she got to carry around. One day she was going to show up and open the door and the house was going to be empty, and him gone.

Implacable men. Every misfortune Tracy's mother had suffered over the past twelve years, she blamed on Tracy's father and his leaving them.

Her mother had to be proven wrong. Had to be.

She turned past the FOR SALE sign onto the street. Tracy's eyes remained damp the whole way home—not because things were bad between them, but because things were so good, and could be great, and still he was going to walk away. She drove on under the first candle of sky light like the dazed victim of an automobile accident that had yet to occur.

20

FRANKIE

THE DOORBELL KEPT ringing in the apartment, insistently, like the thumb pressing on the button was jabbing into Frankie's own temple. They weren't going away. Why didn't the Zoo Lady answer?

Maybe it was Dill at the door. Maybe he had lost his key.

A pretty hopeless hope, but you'll grab at almost anything if you wait long enough for someone.

Frankie went into the bedroom. The old floors were creaky and he tried to go softly heel-toe. The dogs howled downstairs like it was the moon itself ringing the bell. He heard them scratching at the walls.

Frankie went up alongside the black curtain over the left window. He peeked out, but couldn't see the door from this second-floor window because of the balcony.

It was twilight at the intersection of Main and Number 8. He looked for a car or something. Maybe Dill's bike.