“I think I have some useful info for you.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“Not over the phone.”
I sighed. Thom was getting more and more paranoid. “Fine. Where?”
“Meet me tonight at the usual party.”
“You’re still going to that shit?”
“Like fucking clockwork, man. You have any clue how many blowjobs I’ve gotten there?”
“I feel like it doesn’t count if you have to bribe girls with drugs.”
“Blowjob’s a blowjob, Climber. It always counts.”
Jesus, what a fucking scumbag.
“All right, I’ll see you there then.”
“Later, Climber.”
He hung up and I looked down at my phone, almost annoyed that it had rung. What else could Thom have found out so fast that I needed to know? If he wasn’t saying shit over the phone, he must have been pretty scared of the mob.
I spent the rest of the day running bullshit errands, basically anything to keep me away from the house and not thinking too much about what was happening. Eventually I decided to see a movie, just to kill time.
Finally, when the movie was over, it was just about time to head over. I got into my truck and drove, my headlights cutting through the deep darkness of a rural small town.
In all my time spent outside of Ridgewood for climbing competitions, I was always surprised by the lights. There were so many of them and everyone seemed to have their own, lights outside of houses and on phones and on streets, lights everywhere, drowning out the sky. Downtown Ridgewood had lights like anywhere else, but as soon as you left the tiny little ten-block radius of downtown, the darkness began to creep back in.
Which meant that you could actually see the stars. There were hundreds of them, way more than most people saw in their light-polluted suburbs. Maybe the darkness hid other things, other dangerous things, but it also revealed some things, too. You could learn a lot about yourself in the darkness, about what kind of man you were when it came right down to it.
We all have a little darkness in us. But I was learning it was more about how you managed that darkness than anything else. Being a good person doesn’t mean being perfect, it means trying to do your best in a fucked-up situation.
And there were few situations more fucked up than mine.
I pulled my truck in next to the other cars and took note of a little red Miata. It was Lindsey’s car, an old used little sports car that she bought relatively recently. I had no clue how she could afford it, but I wasn’t too concerned with that.
I stepped out onto the soft dirt and headed over toward the party. Instantly, I got a weird vibe: something was up.
I noticed the guys first. They stood out like lions in a zebra pen. They were older guys, rough around the edges, and clearly not part of the usual crowd of this party. It took me a second to realize that they were probably mob dudes, though what the hell they were doing here was beyond me.
I waded into the people, nodding at those I recognized.
“Climber!” I glanced at the voice and smiled.
“Hey, Jen.”
She smiled back at me. Jen was about five feet tall and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, but I had known her since high school. She had always hung around Thom and his friends, though why I had no idea. She was nice, or at least as nice as you could be and still be a functioning coke addict.
“What are you doing here, Climber?”
“Looking for Thom.”
She nodded at the trailer. “He’s in there with some pretty weird dudes.”
“Weird dudes?”
“Yeah, like, tough guys. I don’t know. They were assholes so I left.”
“Catch any names?”
“One guy was called Jay, I think.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Tattoos? Real square-looking?”
She laughed. “Square like a truck, sure.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“So why haven’t you been around much lately?”
“Been busy. Got a lot going on right now.”
“I heard your mom is in remission.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“That’s really awesome, man.”
“Thanks, Jen. I’ve got to find Thom. I’ll see you later.”
“Sure. Later.”
I turned and stalked off, not in the mood to get caught up in any further bullshit with her. Jen was nice and all that, but she sure as fuck could talk a lot, and I had business to attend to.
Plus, there was the matter of Jay being at the fucking party.
What would a high-ranking mobster be doing at some shitty, lame local spot?
I moved through the people, ignoring comments, and banged on the door of the trailer. I heard voices inside immediately stop talking.
“What?” someone called.
“It’s Reid. Looking for Thom.”