The hallway was dim, lit only by a hanging string of construction lights in yellow plastic cages, which shed no light into the darkened openings of other rooms. Stacks of cardboard boxes only made the hall more narrow. There was a giant black metal door at the end.
The grain of the plywood whirled and looped. Peter felt dizzy, and his legs wouldn’t carry him forward. The iron band around his chest drew tighter. He couldn’t catch his breath.
“I can’t.” Sparks rose up in him like white starbursts. His head felt like it would split. “I need to go.”
She looked at him then, just long enough for him to notice the disconcerting way she seemed to see him, clearly and in entirety. Her expression held neither pity nor disappointment.
“No problem, Hoss. I’ll walk you out.”
He stepped away from her and out the front door into the open canopy of night. He leaned against the spalled brick fa?ade and let the clean, cold autumn wind blow through him. The street was busy with cars, and the trees on the parking strip were naked of leaves. But the wind filled his chest with oxygen and he could begin to breathe again.
Josie stood a few paces away, hands in her pockets, watching the traffic.
Eventually she said, “You were boots on the ground, right?”
He nodded.
“Iraq or Afghanistan?”
“Both,” he said. “Marines.”
“Ah.” A smile ghosted across her face. She was still watching rush hour crawl by. “I flew Black Hawks,” she said. “Air cav. Three tours and tons of fun until I got shot down. By some asshole with a Kalashnikov.” She shook her head. “A twenty-five-million-dollar helicopter taken out by an illiterate tribesman with a stamped-metal Russian hand-me-down piece of shit. Somehow managed to hit a hydraulic line and down I went. Broke both my legs and cracked three ribs. I crawled out of the wreck and saw those Talib assholes coming for me in a hurry. Figured they’ll lock me in a hole and rape me for a while, then make a movie while they chop off my head. I wasn’t looking forward to it.”
She turned to look at him. “But a squad of Marines was set up on the next hill, and they got to me first. They saved me. I was never so glad to see a jarhead in my life.”
Peter smiled gently, his breathing coming under control now. “Marines are always bailing out the Army.”
Josie smiled back. “Those jarheads tried to sell me that same line. I didn’t argue at the time.”
“Is that why you’re not flying now?”
She shook her head. “Too many pilots, not enough birds. Besides, can you see me as the Eye in the Sky for Channel Twelve, doing the traffic?”
He could see her doing whatever she set her mind to. “What about the cops?” he said. “Or a commercial pilot?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Flying some rich shitbird to his mansion in the Hamptons? While Cas is living on the street?”
“I see your point.”
“Besides,” she said. “I like the mission, being a part of something bigger. It’s good to be needed.”
Peter rolled his shoulders to work out the cramps and felt the stiffness of Jimmy’s photo in his shirt pocket. He was ashamed that he’d forgotten about it, even for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been nice talking to you. But there’s really someplace I need to be right now.”
She lifted one hand in a wave as he walked toward his truck.
But of course, after he drove back to Dinah’s house and parked on the street, the house was dark.
He’d forgotten.
Dinah was at work. Charlie and Miles were at her grandmother’s.
They didn’t need him that night.
21
Raindrops dotted his windshield and dampened his shirtsleeve at the broken window.
Closer to the freeway, the neighborhood was sprinkled with vacant lots, sometimes half a dozen to a block. The city had taken foreclosed and derelict homes for back taxes, sold what it could, and torn down the ones past saving. They’d filled in the foundations and planted grass, hoping the economy would change and the lots would be worth something again. Maybe they would.
He chose a lot on a relatively full block, a narrow gap in the cityscape that stood out like a missing tooth. The ground sloped uphill from the sidewalk, and from the rear of the lot he’d be able to see over the parked cars. The demolition crew had left a driveway in place, probably because it was nearly new. A sign in the middle of the grass read NO PARKING, NO DUMPING, NO DOGS, NO FIRES. BY ORDER OF THE CITY OF MILWAUKEE.