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Sure, and Becky knew. He even told her about the dream. But still…
“He doesn’t have enough to arrest me, so he does this.”
“Jumping to conclusions really won’t help—”
“Come on, man. Did you see him? Hear him?”
Ball sighs. “Danny, you need a lawyer who can advise you better than I can. A criminal lawyer.”
“I’ll stick with you for the time being. Maybe this will blow over.”
“It might, I suppose.” Only four words, but they are enough to tell Danny that Ball thinks that is unlikely. Maybe even absurd.
26
On Wednesday of the week from hell, Danny finds out he’s going to lose his job.
At noon he goes out to his truck, planning to grab his dinnerbucket and join Jesse at one of the picnic tables out back. He takes his phone out of the glove compartment, checks his emails, and immediately loses his appetite. He has three. One is from the Belleville Telescope and one is from Plains Truth, both asking for comment about his connection to the murder of Yvonne Wicker. The one from Plains Truth also asks him to confirm or deny “reports that you were led to Ms. Wicker’s burial site in a dream.”
He deletes both. The third is from the Wilder County Superintendent of Schools. It informs him that due to budget cuts, his position as head custodian at Wilder High School has been eliminated. He’s instructed to finish the week, but come Monday he’ll be out of a job.
“Due to the regrettable suddenness of this reorganization,” the email continues, “your salary will continue to be paid through the month of July and the first week of August.”
If he has questions, he should get in touch with the assistant superintendent and county schools comptroller, Susan Eggers. There’s a phone number and also a Zoom link.
Danny reads this boilerplate fuck-you over several times to make sure he understands. Then he tosses the phone back into the glove compartment and cuts through the gym to the picnic table.
“Want some chili?” Jesse asks. “My ma always gives me too much. I heated it up in the mike.”
“I’ll pass. I’ve got liverwurst and cheese.”
Jesse wrinkles his nose, as if at a bad smell.
“Also,” Danny continues, “I seem to have been fired.”
Jesse puts down his plastic spoon. “Say what?”
“You heard me. Friday is my last day.”
“Why?” He pauses, then says: “Is it about the girl?”
“You know about that, huh?”
“Everybody knows about it.”
Of course they do, Danny thinks. “Well, they’re not saying that, but they couldn’t, could they? Since I didn’t do anything but report a body. They’re saying budget cuts.”
He expects more questions from Jesse about the body and how he found it, but Jesse may be the only person in Wilder or Republic County who isn’t eager to know about his bad dream. Jesse has other concerns. And God bless him for it, Danny thinks.
“Oh, man! We’re supposed to put a coat of varnish on the gym floor! I can’t do that by myself, I don’t know how!”
“It’s not rocket science. We’ll do it tomorrow. The important thing is once you start, you have to keep going. And wear a bandanna or a Covid mask. We’ll open all the windows but it’s still going to stink.”
“They can’t leave me here alone!” Jesse almost bleats this. “I don’t have any keys! And I don’t want em! Jeez, Danny, I’m Black! Something happens—cleaning supplies disappear or stuff from the canteen—who’s gonna get blamed?”
“I hear you, and I’ll find out what the plan is,” Danny says. “I have a number to call. I’m going to take care of you if I can.”
“Can they do it? Can’t you, like, sue their asses?”
