Dirty Secrets

Part 70

The moment Jack opened the trunk on that quiet morning, thick fingers separated the thin metal miniblind slats at the neighbor's window. Irritated by the surveillance, Lyla turned her back.

Nosey drunk.

She reached into the trunk, grabbed two handfuls of plastic packaging, and tugged at a 25-pound bag of rock salt.

"Ooof. This... is heavy." She grunted.

"I got that," said Jack. "Take the gas can."

"What about your shoulder?"

He winced when he cradled the bag against his injured shoulder, then lifted the second bag. "Close the trunk, okay?"

She slammed the trunk then led him to the shed. She opened the wooden door, tucking the gas can beside the lawnmower.

He dropped the bags of rock salt against the wall then eyed Ryan's collection of lawn tools. "Prob'ly be a good idea to take the pick. And a couple of shovels." He seized the handle of a familiar shovel. "Good times," he said sarcastically.

"I wish there was another way," she murmured, not expecting a reply.

He returned the shovel to its assigned spot in the corner.

She cleared her throat and asked, "So,... when are we doing this?"

"I'm waiting on Wes."

"What? You told him?"

"No. Did you tell anyone?"

"No!"

It dawned on her. "A gun?" she asked. "He's getting you a gun?"

Jack turned toward her house, avoiding eye contact. "We're definitely gonna get arrested. You get that, right? Maybe even end up in jail."

"Maybe not," Lyla replied.

"I'm not gonna let us die over this." He paused, then faced her. "Did you see the size of that dude with the ponytail? And he might be the small one. How many guys are on that crew?"

"So you got a gun?"

"For protection. Not to extract revenge."

Under ordinary circumstances, she might have smirked but at this juncture, she couldn't force a smile.

His frustration flared. "We're definitely gonna have company up there. And we need to hold them off. Didn't Clarisse's letter say it's not gonna work if the body isn't totally burned?"

She nodded.

"So if you got a better idea than a gun..."

She didn't. Not at the moment.

"I mean, I don't even know how we're gonna get over that fence. And digging up a coffin? Just me and you? How long is that gonna take?"

She had no comfort to offer.

"We could use some help," he said.

"Jack, we can't tell anybody."

"They're gonna find out anyway."

"And how are you gonna do that?" she asked. "Just casually mention it? Hey, guys. Let's drive out to the mountains, dig up a grave and set the body on fire. Come on, Jack. Be real."

He leaned his forehead against the doorframe, eyes clenched.

"You can't tell anybody about this," she said. "Promise me."

"If you want a ride to the hospital," he said, "We better get moving.

"Jack, promise me."

........