“Julian,” she said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For bringing you into this. It’s my fault.”

“No it isn’t,” I said. “I came up here on my own.”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“Yes, really.”

“No,” she said. Her eyes were solemn. “It wasn’t complete chance.”

I sighed. “Call it forces of the universe or whatever you want, Suzanne, but we make our own decisions. I decided to move here, and I decided to work for Vince. I’ll deal with the consequences of my decisions.”

“It wasn’t chance, that night, in Boulder,” she said.

“This is not the time to ponder the metaphysical properties of the universe.”

“I was a recruiter.”

“We need to find out how to get you… what?”

She nodded. Her demeanor was timid, shameful.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“A recruiter. That was my job in the community. I recruited people.”

I tilted my head. “A recruiter.”

“Yes. Men mostly.”

The truth was in front of me now, undiluted by guesses and intuitions. The truth. Finally.

“Okay,” I said, processing. “How many?”

“Enough,” she said. “And that’s what I did to you. I brought you in to work for Vince. You need to know this. You need to understand.”

I put my hands on my head to process, then stood up. I thought for a long while, processing what it was she said. Recruiter. I examined what that meant, or tried to, and then I stood. I stood and got mad, because I had earned that right.

“So what are you, a whore?”

She winced. “No. But if that’s what you need to call it…”

“That is what I need to call it, because that’s what it is,” I said, raising my voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“So all that was bullshit?” I asked, pacing the room now. “The whole thing? Just a ploy.”

“No,” she said, standing up and moving toward me. “It was at first, but not at the end. I really did have feelings for you.”

“Bullshit.”

“I did, Julian, and that’s why I’m here,” she said. “It wasn’t like with other men. You were different.”

“Other men?” I became incredulous.

“I told you…”

“Shut up,” I said, and turned away.

She took a step toward me. “I loved you, Julian. I do love you.”

I exhaled and looked at her. It was an irrational statement, but nothing had been rational for a long time. Maybe it was my surroundings—the town, the valley, the people—or maybe it was me. Maybe I was going insane, slowly and quietly, and I didn’t even know it. Do the crazy know they’re insane?

I put my hand up to stop her. “I don’t even know who you are, honestly.”

“Yes you do.”

“What can I do?” I asked, palms up. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

We stood there for a minute. Both of us stood there until I calmed down. The volume in the room lowered.

“What can I do,” I said quietly, “to help you?”

“Nothing. I made my bed, and I’m trying to prevent you from doing the same.” She walked toward the door. “Get out, Julian. Find a way. Be careful, but get out, somehow.”

“I’m trying,” I said.

She opened the door. “Try harder.”

43

Suzanne left me for good that night. She gave me one more apology, one more warning, and one more piece of affection.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding the door halfway open. “I really am.”

“For what, Suzanne? You didn’t kidnap me. Sorry for what?”

“I don’t know. All of it? At least some of it.”

“Where are you going?”

She shook her head.

“Answer me,” I said.

“I won’t burden you with anything more. Now, I must go.”

“Stay here,” I said. “Just stay here, for a little while. We’ll get it figured out.”

She shook her head again. “Do not worry about me, please. I’m resourceful.”

“Where are you going?”

“Away, finally. Hopefully.”

“Let me drive you somewhere.”

“It would be suicide. And I do not deserve your help.”

We looked at each other in the doorway.

“Julian, listen to me one last time. Vince likes you. He sees value in you, and he has plans for you. He will offer you many nice things to stay working with his business. If you stay, you will advance, and you will be pulled into his web of deceit. You will be indoctrinated into the evil, and you will have to do many bad things, evil things, but they won’t seem that way. Because he will justify them, and eventually, so will you.

“You cannot become him, Julian,” she said. “There is too much at stake. Please, if you believe one thing about me, believe this.”

She stepped forward and kissed me. Her lips were dry, chapped, but her kiss was strong. I let it happen.

Suzanne told me goodbye, slipped out the door, and disappeared into the mountains.

I slept sporadically that night. I wanted her to come back, but knew she wouldn’t. Once, around midnight, I stood at the window near my bed and hoped to catch a glimpse of something outside. The sky was clear, the moon was full, and silver rays shone down between the pines and reflected off the snow. The night was bright but still; nothing moved. I wondered where she was.

In the morning I bought a gun. There was a small shop in Silverthorne, a half hour drive from my apartment. I drove there and asked the man behind the counter about pistols.

“Whatcha need it for?” he asked. He was a heavyset fellow in suspenders. I could smell his breath from across the counter.

“Self-defense,” I said.

He nodded and looked down into the case. “Your main choices are a nine or a forty-five. Nine’s gonna be less powerful, but give you more control, be more forgiving. Forty-five’s gonna kick a little more, but does more damage, too. How good are ya with a gun?”

“Good enough,” I said. It was a lie.

We decided on a .45-caliber Smith & Wesson and a small box of hollow-points. I gave the man six one hundred dollar bills and took the gun and bullets. I had read there was a mandatory waiting period, but it was never brought up. The whole transaction took less than ten minutes.

In my car, I examined the weapon and ejected the clip. It was silver in color; brushed steel that caught and reflected the sunlight at certain angles, and bigger than I’d expected. It felt out of place in my hands. I put it in the glove compartment and drove.

Again heading west on I-70, I mulled my options and realized leaving town was no longer one of them. It had been, when this was just about me, but that was no longer the case. The stakes were bigger now, and I was partially responsible. They’d find me, anyway. That was painfully clear now. It would probably take a while, but eventually, they’d find me. I knew too much now.

After an hour, I pulled into the parking lot of the Eagle County Police Department. I parked on the far side, facing a small aspen grove, away from the few cars that occupied the lot. I double-checked the glove box, looked at myself in the vanity, and walked inside.

The same young cadet sat at the front desk in a blue uniform. This gave me comfort. Finally, something went my way, no matter how little. I approached him and he looked up from the computer.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.”

“I was in here a few months ago.”

“Okay,” he said, “what for?” His smile did not go away. He was a Ken doll.

“No, not for anything. I was just inquiring about someone.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well, how can I help you?”

“I…” I looked around to make sure no one was listening. The only other people in the waiting area were a woman reading a magazine and a boy listening to headphones, both sitting in chairs against the far wall. Still, I lowered my voice. “I think I need to make a missing persons report.”

His eyebrows raised and he searched for a paper and clipboard. “I can take that info. When was the last time you saw the missing person?”