Already Gone

– 28 –



I fall asleep on the plane and don’t open my eyes again until we touch down in Phoenix. As we taxi to the gate, I sit up and stare out the window at a row of palm trees along the rocky brown hills.

This is the first time I’ve seen palm trees up close, and they’re not what I expected. In movies, they’re always full and green, bending and brushing against the wind. These are wilted sticks, like blown dandelion stems, desperate and weary under the constant sun.

Once the plane reaches the gate, I get out and head for the baggage claim. My suitcase is one of the last to appear. I grab it and go stand in line to rent a car.

The man behind the counter gives me several forms to fill out. I sign in all the right places and hand him my credit card. He slides it through the reader and sets it on the counter along with a set of keys and a map of the city.

“Enjoy your stay,” he says.

I take the keys and the map and walk outside into the afternoon heat.





I follow the signs to I-10, then switch over to I-17 and head north. Once outside the city, the highway cuts through miles of rocky brown hills littered with saguaro cactus before flattening out into empty desert. A couple hours later, the desert turns green and rolls into hills.

When I get to the Sedona exit, I pull off the highway and drive into town.

Right away I see why Diane loved the place.

Every turn reveals something new, sharp spires and shadowed canyons, layered red rocks set against emerald-green trees, all of it framed by a warm turquoise sky.

The beauty of it makes me want to forget.

But I can’t.

I drive through town until I spot a small hotel just off the main road. I pull into the parking lot and stop just outside the office. When I walk inside, the woman behind the desk looks up from her book and studies me over her reading glasses.

“Looks like you forget to duck,” she says.

At first I don’t understand, then I remember my nose and I do my best to smile.

“Car accident. Air bag didn’t open.”

“American car?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because American cars are garbage.” She turns down the corner of her page to mark her spot, then drops the book on the counter and moves to the computer. “I owned a Ford once, years ago. Nothing worked right.” She looks at me and smiles. “Do you have a reservation, hon?”

I tell her I don’t.

She nods and starts typing.

Her fingernails are long and painted pink. They rattle against the keys like bones.

“I can give you a room with a king bed, nonsmoking, of course. Will that work?”

“Perfect.”

I watch her while she checks me in, then I look down at her book. The cover is red and glossy. There’s a man and woman on the front, both half naked and windblown.

“Good book?” I ask.

“Nope.”

I wait for her to go on. When she doesn’t, I cross the room to the window and look out.

There’s a long sloping hill behind the hotel, covered in scrub oak, and I can just see the silver blur of a fast-moving river through the branches. It’s hypnotic, and for a moment, I lose myself.

Behind me, the woman rips a page from the printer and says, “I’ll need a signature and a deposit on the room.”

I walk back to the counter and sign the pages. I take Gabby’s money clip from my pocket and peel off several bills and hand them to her.

She counts the bills then slides them into the cash drawer under the computer. “You’re in room 217, at the far end.” She hands me a plastic punch key. “If there’s anything you need, go ahead and call the front desk. Someone’s always here.”

I turn the key over in my hand.

The woman picks up her book and opens it to the marked page. When I don’t leave, she frowns. “Something else I can help you with?”

“Maybe,” I say. “Is there a place around here where I can buy a cell phone?”





She gives me directions to a convenience store in town that sells prepaid phones. It’s easy to find, and when I get back to the hotel, I drive around the side of the building and park next to the dumpster.

I walk up the stairs to the second floor and unlock the door to 217.

The room is hot.

I drop the suitcase on the bed, then switch the air conditioner to high and stand in front of the fan until the air turns cold. There’s a desk in the corner, and I lay the cell phones across it in a row.

I bought three, one for each day I plan on being in town, and each with an hour of talk time. It seems like a waste to only use them once, but this is Gabby’s plan, and I’m willing to go along for the ride, at least for a while.

I open my wallet and take out the number Gabby gave me, and then I pick up one of the cell phones and dial.

It rings three times before he answers.

I can tell right away that there’s a problem.

“What happened?”

“What happened?” Gabby laughs, but it isn’t funny. “Your face is all over the news. They found a f*cking handgun in the park, registered to you.”

I think of Nolan handing me my gun right before he was shot, and I feel my chest fold in on itself.

“They’re calling you a person of interest, not a suspect, but that’s bullshit. They’re looking for you.”

“Nolan took the gun from my house. He had it and dropped it when he—”

“You think that matters?” Gabby’s voice is sharp, but I can tell he’s holding back. “We have to move fast. Did you check into a hotel?”

“Yeah, I’m there now.”

“Did you use cash?”

I tell him I did, and then I remember the rental car and close my eyes against the sudden flash of pain in my head.

I don’t want to say anything, but I have to tell him.

Somehow Gabby already knows.

“What is it?”

“I rented a car,” I say. “I had to use my credit card.”

“F*ck, Jake. Why do you think I gave you the cash?”

“How the hell am I supposed to rent a car without a credit card?”

Gabby doesn’t answer. He’s not listening.

He’s planning.

“The good thing is they don’t know which way you went, so that should buy us some time to get you out of there.” I hear him light a cigarette and inhale deep. “But don’t use that goddamn card again, got it?”

“Got it.”

“There’s a guy in Flagstaff who owes me a favor. He’s got a small plane. I’ll call him and ask him to fly you over the border to Nogales, maybe set you up with a bus ticket south. I’ll wire you some money, but that’s all I can do until things calm down.”

“I’m not going to run. I didn’t kill Nolan.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It’s all that matters.”

Gabby is quiet for a moment, then he says, “Come on, Jake. You know better than that.”

He’s right, I do.

“If you come back, they’ll throw you in jail until they build a case. You won’t find the people who attacked you, and you’ll damn sure never know what happened to your wife.”

I start to argue, but Gabby stops me.

“Just be patient.”

“I don’t want to run.”

“And I don’t want to see you go to jail.”

His voice is loud.

Neither of us says anything else, and for a while all I hear is Gabby breathing into the phone.

“I’m trying to look out for you, Jake. If you don’t want to do what I tell you, or you think you’ll have a better chance on your own, just say the word.”

I open my mouth to tell him I’ll do it on my own, but the words won’t come. If I’m going to find out what happened to Diane, I need his help. As much as I hate it, I know it’s true.

“Okay,” I say, fighting to keep my voice calm. “Where do you want me to go?”