Already Gone

– 27 –



“Get up, Jake.”

I open my eyes. The room is dark, but the light from the hallway cuts through. Gabby is standing at the foot of the bed, holding a suitcase in front of him.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve got you three sets of clothes in here. If you need more, you’re on your own.” He sets the suitcase on the ground, then reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a money clip. He holds it up and shakes it in the air before tossing it to me. “You can pay me back later.”

I pick up the clip.

It’s packed with bills.

“How much is here?”

“About a grand,” Gabby says. “It was all I had in the house, so it’ll have to do for now.”

“I don’t need it. I have money.”

“Take it anyway, just in case.”

I sit up slow, but not slow enough. The pain from my nose splits through to the back of my head, and I close my eyes tight against it.

“I’ll get you a new bandage before you go,” Gabby says. “You’re a mess.”

“I’ll do it this time.”

“Suit yourself, but do it quick. Your flight leaves in a few hours.”

He walks out, leaving me alone.

I push the covers away then slide my legs over the side until my feet touch floor. It’s ice cold, and for a second it distracts me from the pain in my head.

Then it fades.





After my shower, I stand at the sink and replace the bandage on my nose. The bruising is darker today, deeper, but the swelling is down and the rattling sound when I breathe is gone.

I hear Diane’s voice in the back of my mind telling me that with a new bandage and some clean clothes, there’s a chance that even I might look presentable.

It makes me smile, and when I close my eyes, I feel my heart break all over again.

Once I’m dressed, I close the suitcase and walk out to the living room.

Gabby is waiting for me.

He’s standing in front of the full-length windows with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Outside, the morning sky is a wall of color, orange, purple, and pink, as if the entire sky has become part of the sun.

I set the suitcase by the front door.

Gabby looks at me then takes a sip of his coffee and says, “Your ride is waiting downstairs.”

“Any news on Kevin?”

He shakes his head. “There won’t be any, either. That’s not how these things end up.”

“How about Nolan?”

“Not yet.” He sets his coffee cup on the table. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

I grab the suitcase, and we walk downstairs to the workshop and out through the front door. There is a black town car waiting outside the building. I look past it toward the empty parking lot across the street.

“Where’s Nolan’s car?”

“I had it taken out to the lot,” Gabby says. “One less thing to think about.”

I nod, but I’m still worried.

By now, Nolan’s cruiser has been stripped, burned, and crushed. It’s either sitting in a corner of the lot, or it’s on the back of a truck heading to some faraway disposal site. Wherever it is, I’m sure no one will ever see it again.

This should make me feel better, but it doesn’t.

Gabby puts a hand on my shoulder. He reminds me about the cell phones and tells me again to call him once a day.

“We’ll keep each other updated,” he says.

I climb in the back of the car with the suitcase. Gabby shuts the door behind me and slaps the top of the car with his palm.

We pull away.

I don’t look back.





When we get to the airport, I get out and check my bag at the curb. I notice a few people staring at my face, but I ignore them and walk through the crowded terminal toward the security gates.

I stand in line and get ready to be pulled aside and searched, but when my turn comes the woman working the gate only glances at me and says, “Looks like it hurt.”

“It wasn’t too bad.”

She smiles and waves me through.

I don’t question it.

They probably figure that if I wanted to cause trouble, I wouldn’t show up looking like trouble.

Once I’m through security, I walk down the concourse to my gate and find a seat in the corner where I can look out the window at the planes coming in from the east. I watch them land for a long time and try not to think about everything that happened the night before.

Instead, I think about Diane.

It occurs to me that once I’m gone, once I’m on the plane, there will be no reason for me to come back. When I get to Phoenix I can buy a jeep, then cross the border and head for the sea. From there, all I have to do is follow the coast until I disappear.

I let the thought take over. It warms me, and for a while I actually consider the possibility. Then it fades.

I can’t run away, not yet.

Not without answers.

I sit up and look around. There is a bar across the hall, and I walk over and buy a bottle of water. On the way back, I see a line of pay phones.

I don’t know if I’m making a mistake or not, but after everything Doug and I have been through, the least I owe him is a phone call.

He answers on the third ring.

“Hi, Doug.”

There is a long silence, then movement and the sound of a door closing.

“You there?” I ask.

“Where the hell are you, Jake?”

“The airport,” I say. “Remember that psychic I told you about? The one Diane saw in Sedona?”

“You’re going to Arizona?”

“Just for a couple days. I’m going to need some time off.” I pause. “I think I’m going to take Carlson up on her offer.”

“A leave of absence?”

“Does the offer still stand?”

Doug sighs into the phone. “Of course it does. Take as much time as you need.”

A woman’s voice comes over the loudspeaker. It gives a flight number and announces boarding.

“I’ve got to run. My flight’s boarding. I’ll call you in a couple days.”

“What if I need to get a hold of you?” Doug asks. “I don’t think there will be any problems, but you never know. Anne might have questions.”

“Can you cover me for a few days?”

“If that’s all it is, sure.” He pauses. “Is that all it is? A few days?”

I start to tell him it is, but for some reason the words won’t come. Instead, I say, “I don’t know.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I’ll find a place when I get to Sedona.”

“Is she going to talk to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Seems like a long way to go for a maybe.”

I tell him he’s right, it does.

“I’m guessing it wouldn’t do any good to ask you to let this go, would it?”

“I can’t let it go. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Doug says. “I guess I do.”