THE FERAL STRUT

Chapter 36

They drove in silence to the river junction. There were skeins of mist along the Snake, braided like the channels in the gravel bed. She turned left, for town and Slim sighed. "This'll all be houses someday. It's a shame."

"Maybe not. Maybe people will wise up."

"I think things are worse than they used to be. People are worse."

"Present company excepted."

"True.

"Something just popped into my head." Mary glanced at him.

"I could hear it. Pop! "

"This is no joke. I just figured out why Christy disappeared in such a rush."

"She'd ripped off the Don. After whacking him with a shovel. Isn't that sufficient?"

"Yeah, but after she hit him with the shovel, nothing happened, really. She was freaked enough to get Spider to go up there with her. But not, like, in fear of her life."

"So what changed?"

"I think she got the tape with the Terpening stuff on it— the Don hacking her up. He must've told her some BS about hiring pros to do the job and things getting out of hand. Christy's no saint: she'd be able to live with that. But when she saw that the Don had done it— actually saw him doing what he did. . ."

"The guy she'd been sleeping with. And letting him play his games." Slim shut his eyes for a while, taking deep breaths.

"She must've flipped out. I would."

"That fits. Ugly, but it fits."

Mary dropped Slim off at his wrecked apartment, where a fresh mound of dirt marked the Kitty-Man's grave. He stooped to pat it before he went in, and she got tears in her eyes, watching.

From there she drove to the Cogwill house, on the skirts of Snow King Mountain. They'd practice at three and pack the gear in the van after that.

She rang the bell and a housekeeper let her in. She could hear Krista, in the room over the garage, but couldn't tell what she was playing: it sounded strange. Krista was completely absorbed. Under her hands was a new keyboard, set in a black box with banks of red lights and buttons. Out of a speaker came noises like water droplets, in a melody. Mary had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"What's that?"

"A Synclavier. It's like a synth. But you can sample a sound—record it on a computer disk— and then play with it." She demonstrated with an arpeggio that sounded like water dripping down an increasingly narrow pipe.

"I recorded a sink dripping: pretty cool!"

"What'd it cost?"

"Not sure— the maker was going out of business and owed bigtime to one of Mom's companies. This was part-payment. Retail, probably, like fifty thou or so."

"God!— that's not exactly punk."

"I know— it wouldn't fit with our sound. But I've got some other things going. I want to study composing. Electronic stuff."

"Have you applied anywhere?"

"A couple places back east. But I like what Gin said— about us sticking together. There's good skiing and music programs in Salt Lake, Boulder, and Denver. If you're thinking about it, we should apply, like now. If you use Moms as a reference, it'll speed things up."

"I didn't think of asking," Mary said.

"I already did— cool with her. She thinks you've got, like, a gift."

Mary noticed her face in the mirror— she wore an amazing grin. This isn't like me, she thought. "I'm, like, overwhelmed, babes."

Krista stood up and they hugged.

"The Momster said that if your scholarships and stuff don't come through in time, she'll front you the money for tuition. We could, like, share a place."

"I can't wait to tell Gin. She'll be jazzed."

In her excitement, Mary had forgotten the trouble, until Slim showed up on his bike, with a glum face.

"There was an eviction notice on my door. When I called the landlord, he said the police told him I'd gone on a rampage— tore the place up myself."

"Hard to believe," Mary said, suddenly deflated. "You worked with those guys for— how long?"

"'Three years, about. It's not the whole department. Clayton saw me on my bike and stopped— he said Shank's gone whacko. About half of 'em are ready to quit in protest."

"So there are honest cops in the Hole."

"Most of 'em, actually. But it's hard to go against a fellow officer— so the bad ones get away with murder. Oops— didn't mean to use that word."

Krista stood there with a look of horror.

"What's going on," she said. "You never told me about this— whatever it is."

Mary looked at Slim.

"It might take a while to explain," he said.