Look, Reggie, there were people dying right and left, so no one was concerned with me. It was easy." They were over the bridge and into Arkansas. The highway was flat and lined on both sides by truck stops and motels. He turned to admire the Memphis skyline once more, but it was gone.
"What are you looking for?" she asked.
"Memphis. I like to look at the tall buildings downtown. A teacher told me once that people actually live in those tall buildings. It's hard to believe." "Why is it hard to believe?" "I saw a movie once about this little rich kid who lived in a tall building in a city, and he roamed around the streets just having a great time. He knew the cops by their first names. He stopped taxis when he wanted to go somewhere. And at night, he'd sit on the balcony and watch the streets below. I've always thought that would be a wonderful way to live. No cheap house trailers. No trashy neighbors. No pickups parked in the street in front of your house." "You can have it, Mark. It's yours, if you want it." He gave her a long look. "How?" "Right now the FBI will give you whatever you want. You can live in a tall building in a big city, or you can live in a cabin in the mountains. You pick the place." "I've been thinking about that." "You can live on a beach and play in the ocean, or you can live in Orlando and go to Disney World every day." "That'd be okay for Ricky. I'm too old. I've heard the tickets are too expensive." "You'd probably get a lifetime pass if you asked for yuu ana your mom can get anything you want." "Yeah, but, Reggie, who wants it if you're afraid of your shadow. For three nights now, I've had nightmares about these people, Reggie. I don't want to be scared for the rest of my life. They'll get me one day, I know they will." "So what do you do, Mark?" "I don't know, but I've been thinking real hard about something." "I'm listening." "One good thing about jail is that it allows you to think a lot." He placed one foot on one knee and wrapped his fingers around it. "Think about this, Reggie. What if Romey told me a lie? He was drunk, taking pills, out of his mind. Maybe he was just talking to hear himself talk. I was there, remember. The man was crazy. Said all sorts of weird things, and at first I believed all of it. I was scared to death, and I wasn't thinking clearly. My head was hurting where he'd slapped me. But now, well, I'm not so sure. All week I've been remembering crazy stuff he said and did, and maybe I was too eager to believe everything." She was driving exactly fifty-five mil. es per hour and hanging on every word. She had no idea where he was going with this, and she had no idea where the car was going either.
"But I couldn't take a chance, right? I mean, what if I'd told the cops everything and they found the body right where Romey said? Everybody's happy but the Mafia, and who knows what would happen to me. And what if I'd told the cops everything, but Romey was lying and they found no body. I'm off the hook, right, because in reality I didn't know anything at all. What a joKer, mat J^omey. cut it was too big ot a risk." He paused for a half mile. The Beach Boys sang "California Girls." "So I've had a brainstorm." By now, she could almost feel this brainstorm. Her heart stopped and she managed to keep the wheels between the white lines of the right lane. "And what might that be?" she asked nervously.
"I think we should see if Romey was lying or not." She cleared her dry throat. "You mean, go find the body." "That's right." She wanted to laugh at this innocent humor of a hyperactive mind, but at the moment she didn't have the strength. "You must be kidding." "Well, let's talk about it. You and I are both expected to be in New Orleans Monday morning, right?" "I guess. I haven't seen a subpoena." "But I'm your client, and I've got a subpoena. So even if they didn't give you one, you'd still have to go with me, right?" "That's true." "And now we're on the run, right? Just you and me, Bonnie and Clyde, running from the cops." "I guess you could say that." "Where's the last place they'd look for us? Think about it, Reggie. Where's the last place in the world they'd expect us to run to?" "New Orleans." "Right. Now, I don't know anything about hiding out, but since you're dodging a subpoena and you're a lawyer and all, and you deal with criminals all tne time, i ngure you could get us to New Orleans and no one would know it. Right?" "I suppose so." She was beginning to agree with him, and she was shocked by her own words.
"And if you can get us to New Orleans, then we'll find Romey's house." "Why Romey's house?" "That's where the body's supposed to be." This was the last thing in the world she wanted to know. She slowly removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. A slight ache was forming between her temples, and it would only get worse.
Romey's house? The home of Jerome Clifford, deceased? He had said this very slowly, and she had heard it very slowly. She glared at taillights in front of them but there was nothing but a red blur. Romey's house? The victim of the murder was buried at the home of the accused's lawyer. This was beyond bizarre. Her mind raced wildly in circles asking itself a hundred questions and answering none of them. She glanced in the mirror, and was suddenly aware that he was staring at her with a curious smile.
"Now you know, Reggie," he said.
"But how, why-" "Don't ask, because I don't know. It's crazy, isn't it? That's why I think Romey could've made it up. A crazy mind created this weird story about the body being at his house." "So, you don't think it's really there?" she asked, seeking reassurance.
"We won't know until we look. If it's not there, I'm off the hook and life returns to normal." "But what if it's there?" "We'll worry about that when we find it." "I don't like your brainstorm." "Why not?" "Look, Mark, son, client, friend, if you think I'm going to New Orleans to dig up a dead body, then you're crazy." "Of course I'm crazy. Me and Ricky, just a couple of nut cases." "I won't do it." "Why not, Reggie?" "It's much too dangerous, Mark. It's insane, and it could get us killed. I won't go, and I can't let you do it." "Why is it dangerous?" "Well, it's just dangerous. I don't know." "Think about it, Reggie. We check on the body, okay. Then if it's not where Romey said, I'm home free. We'll tell the cops to drop everything against us, and in return I'll tell them what I know. And since I don't know where the body really is, the Mafia couldn't care less about me. We walk." We walk. Too much television. "And if we find the body?" "Good question. Think about this slowly, Reggie. Try and think like a kid. If we find the body, and then you call the FBI and tell them you know exactly where it is because you've seen it with your own eyes, then they'll give us anything we want." "And what exactly do you want?" "Probably Australia. A nice house, plenty of money for my mother. New car. Maybe some plastic surgery. I saw that once in a movie. They rearranged this guy's entire face. He was dog ugly to start with, and he snitched on some drug dealers just so he could get a new face. Looked like a movie star when it was over. About two years later, the drug dealers gave him another new face." "You're serious?" "About the movie?" "No, about Australia." "Maybe." He paused and looked out the window. "Maybe." They listened to the radio and didn't speak for several miles. Traffic was light. Memphis was farther away.