Free The Long Fall by Lynn Kostoff Page B

Jimmy says.
    “Well, we’re making headway here,” Ray says. “We have Trevor, and he’s a loveable mutt. A regular part of the family. Jimmy and his brother’s boyhood companion.” Ray’s voice disappears for a moment. “I’m betting your brother named the dog, but you saw him as yours. I’m also betting Trevor, as adorable as he was, was also what we’d call ‘spirited.’ Too much energy for his own good, had a hard time following commands, got into some scrapes around the neighborhood, am I right? Chasing cats, digging up flowers, barking all night, leaving dumps in people’s front lawns, maybe growling and nipping at the mailman. Would it be fair to say, Jimmy, that Trevor had a reputation for doing things that caused trouble for himself and others?”
    Jimmy’s hands and wrists are going numb, and the sun’s in his face, but when he tries to shift position and roll onto his side, Ray puts his boot on Jimmy’s chest and pins him where he lies.
    “Now I’m sure,” Ray says, “you worked with Trevor. You didn’t want to see him get in any more trouble. You disciplined him, right? Made sure he understood what he was and was not supposed to do. You established some rules and guidelines, I’m saying, correct? All designed to protect Trevor from his own worst impulses. Trevor, of course, wants to please you. He tries. But it’s just not in him. He’s spirited. He can’t help himself. He crosses the line, and the next thing you know, Trevor has no use for oxygen anymore. One of the neighbors, they shoot him or stop by the house and lay it out for your old man and he shoots him, or the neighbor, he calls the pound and they pick Trevor up.” Ray pauses, then asks, “Am I close on my take here, Jimmy?”
    The pressure of Ray’s boot on his sternum makes Jimmy start coughing. Until it subsides, he’s afraid his bones are going to fly apart.
    “What finally happened to Trevor?” Ray asks.
    “He got run over by a car,” Jimmy eventually gets out. “Trevor liked to bite tires.”
    “Nothing pretty about a squashed dog,” Ray says. “You bury him, Jimmy?”
    “No. My brother did.”
    “That’s good,” Ray says and leans down so that his voice seems to touch Jimmy’s face. “Then he’s used to it, in case he has to do it again. Because you got one week to get the cash you owe me. One week.” Ray pauses for a moment. “We clear on that, Jimmy? Otherwise, you’ll get the chance to see how resourceful Aaron Limbe can be with some vise grips and a soldering gun.”

EIGHT
     
    Y ou were fine,” Evelyn tells her husband, lightly placing her hand on his chest. “Relax, okay?” A part of her listens for any false bottoms to her words, because the truth is he was less than fine tonight, their coupling never quite in sync, Evelyn struggling to meet and match his rhythm, and by the time she’d adjusted, feeling a small welling start deep inside her, Richard had already finished, his orgasm tearing a low groan from him, just before he dropped his face into the pillow. A few moments later, he pulled out and rolled over on his back.
    “It’s just that things have been kind of tense lately,” he says as his breathing evens. “I’ve had a lot on my mind. And tonight didn’t make anything better with Jimmy showing up out of the blue.”
    “Like I said, relax. It’s not like I was timing you.” Though that, too, was not strictly true. Evelyn had looked over at the clock.
    For most of their marriage, Evelyn had no real complaints about their lovemaking. Richard was a patient lover, methodical and attentive, skillful if not as passionate as Evelyn sometimes hoped for, but true to course, both of them early on in the marriage having discovered the basic elements of what gave each other pleasure and staying with them. There may have been few surprises between the sheets, but there were equally few disappointments also.
    Evelyn had been looking forward to having more time together after she quit the