Backseat Driver

Rusty stomped out of The Ruby at 1 AM. Maybe he'd stayed at The Ruby too late, he thought. He had wanted to clear his head. It hadn't worked. He had been putting in a lot of work on the case, but was getting nowhere.

The air outside was cold. A group of banished smokers stood, huddled together near the entrance of the building. As he pushed through them, his lungs filled with cold, musty, secondhand smoke. Disgusting, he thought. He was going to quit.

The parking lot was still pretty full of cars. Rusty put his head down and walked to the far perimeter of the lot. "You wouldn't have to park so far away if you had a smaller vehicle", he thought as he set eyes on the big blue truck. The door opened with a loud creak and Rusty climbed in to the cab. He blew his breath into his hands for a few seconds and fished his cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He lit his second to last cigarette and took a long drag.

Before he could exhale, a voice said, "Well, you found me."

Rusty turned around and saw Keith Hoover sitting in the backseat of his truck. He coughed out a cloud of smoke.

"What, exactly, do you want? Because I can't think of any business the two of us have. None. What. So. Ever. And I’m real busy lately, Russ." Hoove sat with his hands in the pockets of his long, grey, wool coat. His grey eyes fixed on Rusty.

Rusty sucked in some air and persuaded his body to stop coughing.

"Where's my wife? Where’s my money? That's all I want." Rusty hoped his voice wasn't shaking.

"Brandi? This about her?" Hoove took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his face.

"You took her, and she had my money." Rusty felt an encouraging burst of adrenaline seep into his bloodstream.

Hoove leaned forward.

"How much money? All your money?"

"Not that much.....just my cigarette money, really...." Rusty felt his voice trailing off, so he added, "But that's not the point!"

Hoove smiled. Rusty couldn't help but notice how straight and white his teeth were. Rusty almost felt an urge to smile back.

"Russ, Brandi was an annoying nag." He reached forward and grabbed Rusty's cigarettes. Examining them, he said, "I would not 'take' her for anyone's cigarette money--let alone someone who smokes generics. Be glad that you're free now. Let it go."

Hoove lit Rusty's final cigarette and leaned back in his seat.

"But you both--"

"Don't look for me anymore. I'm leaving town. Tonight. Write this last part down in your little yellow notebook: If you don’t stop looking for me, somebody's gonna have to start looking for you."

Hoove patted at his coat pockets and finally pulled out two large padded envelopes. He handed one of them to Rusty. It said 'DREW' on the outside. Rusty slid a quick glance at the other envelope.

"Tell Drew it’s all I have for him." Hoove said. He looked out the window for a second, and then added, "Make sure he knows I'm gone. For good."

The door slammed shut and Rusty watched Hoove fade into the night. Then he grabbed the yellow notebook and recorded everything he could remember from their conversation. The last line he wrote said: 'envelope, Carole?'