Under the Dome

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think your grief…” He sighed, spread his blunt-fingered hands. “Come inside. We’ll discuss this and I’ll set your mind at rest.”

She smiled. That she could smile was sort of a revelation, and it helped more to imagine Howie watching her—from somewhere. Also telling her to be careful. That was advice she planned to heed.

On the Rennie front lawn, two Adirondack chairs sat amid the fallen leaves. “It’s nice enough out here for me,” she said.

“I prefer to talk business inside.”

“Would you prefer to see your picture on the front page of the Democrat? Because I can arrange that.”

He winced as if she had struck him, and for just a moment she saw hate in those small, deepset, piggy eyes. “Duke never liked me, and I suppose it’s natural that his feelings should have been communicated to—”

“His name was Howie!”

Big Jim threw up his hands as if to say there was no reasoning with some women, and led her to the chairs overlooking Mill Street.

Brenda Perkins talked for almost half an hour, growing colder and angrier as she spoke. The meth lab, with Andy Sanders and—almost certainly—Lester Coggins as silent partners. The staggering size of the thing. Its probable location. The mid-level distributors who had been promised immunity in exchange for information. The money trail. How the operation had gotten so big the local pharmacist could no longer safely supply the necessary ingredients, necessitating import from overseas.

“The stuff came into town in trucks marked Gideon Bible Society,” Brenda said. “Howie’s comment on that was ‘too clever by half.’”

Big Jim sat looking out at the silent residential street. She could feel the anger and hate baking off him. It was like heat from a casserole dish.

“You can’t prove any of this,” he said at last.

“That won’t matter if Howie’s file turns up in the Democrat. It’s not due process, but if anyone can understand bypassing a little thing like that, it would be you.”

He flapped a hand. “Oh, I’m sure you had a file, ” he said, “but my name is on nothing.”

“It’s on the Town Ventures paperwork,” she said, and Big Jim rocked in his chair as if she had lashed out with her fist and hit him in the temple. “Town Ventures, incorporated in Carson City. And from Nevada, the money trail leads to Chongqing City, the pharma capital of the People’s Republic of China.” She smiled. “You thought you were smart, didn’t you? So smart.”

“Where is this file?”

“I left a copy with Julia this morning.” Bringing Andrea into it was the last thing she wanted to do. And thinking it was in the newspaper editor’s hands would bring him to heel that much quicker. He might feel that he or Andy Sanders could jawbone Andrea.

“There are other copies?”

“What do you think?”

He considered a moment, then said: “I kept it out of the town.”

She said nothing.

“It was for the good of the town.”

“You’ve done a lot of good for the town, Jim. We’ve got the same sewer system we had in nineteen sixty, Chester Pond is filthy, the business district is moribund….” She was sitting straight now, gripping the arms of her chair. “You fucking self-righteous turdworm.”

“What do you want?” He was staring straight ahead at the empty street. A large vein beat in his temple.

“For you to announce your resignation. Barbie takes over as per the President’s—”

“I’ll never resign in favor of that cotton-picker.” He turned to look at her. He was smiling. It was an appalling smile. “You didn’t leave anything with Julia, because Julia’s at the market, watching the food fight. You might have Duke’s file locked away somewhere, but you didn’t leave a copy with anyone. You tried Rommie, then you tried Julia, then you came here. I saw you walking up Town Common Hill.”

“I did,” she said. “I did have it.” And if she told him where she had left it? Bad luck for Andrea. She started to get up. “You had your chance. Now I’m leaving.”

“Your other mistake was thinking you’d be safe outside on the street. An empty street.” His voice was almost kind, and when he touched her arm, she turned to look at him. He seized her face. And twisted.

Brenda Perkins heard a bitter crack, like the breaking of a branch overloaded with ice, and followed the sound into a great darkness, trying to call her husband’s name as she went.

21

Big Jim went inside and got a Jim Rennie’s Used Cars gimme cap from the front hall closet. Also some gloves. And a pumpkin from the pantry. Brenda was still in her Adirondack chair, with her chin on her chest. He looked around. No one. The world was his. He put the hat on her head (pulling the brim low), the gloves on her hands, and the pumpkin in her lap. It would serve perfectly well, he thought, until Junior came back and took her to where she could become part of Dale Barbara’s butcher’s bill. Until then, she was just another stuffed Halloween dummy.