Conflagration

XII

Bryce could smell the old woman's half smoked cigarette before he found her in the office on the far side of the auto shop. The bottom half of her face was buried in an oxygen mask and he could see her piano key grin through the hazy plastic before she had a chance to remove it. She coughed into her arm and said something. Zaps and buzzing from the tools outside swallowed her words.
​Bryce raised a hand to his ear.
​"I said well I'll be damned." The old woman gestured from them to come in. "Get on in here and take a seat. You and your lady."
​Crystal followed behind him and closed the door. Her eyes were glued to the floor and her shoulders were hunched forward. They sat in two folding chairs stationed on the other side of a wicker desk. Twin holes poked through its front where the old woman had propped her feet up over the years. They sat listening to the mechanics in the shop tend to their work while the woman poured sweet tea from a pitcher into two paper cups. The office was mostly concrete covered in an assemblage of filing cabinets and loose paper. It looked like the den of some obsessed madman desperate to find a greater truth. Cobwebs were visible in the ceiling's corners. Some black and white horror movie dragged kicking and screaming into this century.
​"Y'all go ahead and take a sip," she said, handing it over.
​"Yes ma'am."
She reached down and took another long huff of oxygen, turning her back to them as if to hide the scene. When she was finished she screwed the tank shut and relit her cigarette which had gone flat.
​"Ain't y'all the happy couple."
​"Good to see you Momma."
​"That's enough of that. Wish I was still young enough to be your Momma."
​"You coulda fooled me."
​"Oh hush." She looked towards the window. "Fine day for a parade. Y'all catch any of it?"
​"Must've just missed it."
"How's that business up the road?"
​"All set. Nothin to it."
​She squinted one eye and pointed the cigarette at him. "Nothin to it."
​"Uhuh."
​"I don't like them words. There damn well better've been somethin to it. Dumpin a body ain't exactly a walk down the road."
​"It's taken care of."
​"And you followed your instructions. Location and all?"
​"Yes, Momma."
​She turned around and poured herself a cup. Afterwards she played around with something under her desk before looking back up.
​"Fifteen thousand was the arrangement if my memory serves." She tossed a small fanny pack onto her desk towards where they were seated. "I'd tell yah not to spend it foolishly but I ain't gunna waste my breath."
​Bryce stared down at it for a moment as if he had been taken by surprise. "Is it all there?"
​"Where the hell else would it be?"
​He fumbled around its zipper until he managed to open it. A small brick of worn bills was spread out inside like a drawn accordion.
​The woman took a long sip and shook her head. "Rich Quinn. I knew his folks. Shame he had to go off in a tizzy."
​Bryce tossed the bag into Crystal's lap.
​"That put a smile on your face, sweetheart?" She asked her. Crystal stared down at the cash, refusing to look up.
​"Still ain't talkin, is she?" The woman asked Bryce.
​"She's a little shy."
​"I woulda figured that she'd say somethin with all that cash in front of her."
​"It is a good bit."
​"Too much for you to handle?"
​"I didn't say that."
​"That's good." She reached down and tossed another bag onto the desk. This time it was a small duffle. Bryce looked at it and then back at her, as if he was waiting for her to confirm what he already knew.
​"Need you to run another errand. You okay with that?"
​"Sure. Shoot."
​"That there is fifty G's. I need you to grease a few of Brockton County's deputies."
​"I can do that."
​"Got some hillbillies they just brought on. Need to take care of them before they cause us trouble."
​"You want us to head over now?"
​"No no. I got a meetup in the works for tomorrow. This side of the county line. You just keep the cash close and I'll be callin you with the details."
​"No problem."
​"Not yet there ain't. You lose the Sheriff's money and we got another story."
​"We won't, Momma."
​"That's good cause I don't wanna be handin out any more stacks of fifteen thousand. Specially on your behalf. That goes missin and there ain't one of God's children that can save you."
​Bryce tapped the duffle and winked. "We'll take care of it."
​"Mhmm." The old woman ashed the cigarette and looked out of the wide window to he left. Through its panels they could see a boy standing out by the street. A girl approached, donned in a wet red dress. Her dark hair was rung through with moisture. Bryce followed her gaze and also took notice.
​"Oh well there's a peach," the woman said, her eyes fixed on the girl.
​"I seen that one around," Bryce said. The right side of his lips curled briefly into a smile. Crystal's eyes darted to him for a second before returning to her lap.
​"The Sheriff's truly fond of that one," the woman said. "He won't shut his yap every time he sees her in town. Course I'm of the belief that she'd make a damn killin for him up at that hooker colony by the highway but I generally keep my opinion to myself."
​"That right?"
​"Generally. He truly is fond."
​Bryce drank the last his tea and tossed the cup into the can beside the desk. Crystal's was still sitting on its surface, untouched.
​"You ever get out there and work on them cars?" He asked.
​"Oh please. I let those fools handle it. You still livin in that trailer?"
​"Just for a little."
​"Maybe if you used some of that money for a new place your lady here would talk to you."
​"Yeah," Bryce said. "Maybe."
​"You let me cook you one of my pies and we'll see if she don't at least say yum."
​"You know where to find us."
​They rose and went back towards the door. Bryce held a bundle of cash in each hand.
​"And child."
​Bryce turned.
​"You remember what I told you. That bag doesn't leave your arms."
​"I know Momma. You take care."
​"Uhuh."
​They opened the door and were immediately greeted by the metallic sounds they had heard on their way in. The two made their way towards the parts section and the front door beyond. Over the noise of the shop Bryce managed to hear the squeak of the oxygen tank, and the long labored breath that followed.