Page 91 of The Art of Dying

“Just tying up some loose strings.”

“He ain’t here, ya know. Mason. Hasn’t been back for years.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping we could reminisce.”

“I’ve heard stories. Rumors of people thinking they saw him, but… word is he’s overseas somewhere. In a Turkish prison or somethin’, I don’t fuckin’ know.” He waited a beat. “Kitsch.”

“What?”

“He ain’t here, brother. Take your gun and go before you do something stupid.”

I looked over at him, my head turning slowly. “You lyin’ piece a shit. You’ve seen him.”

Sully struggled to get off the sofa, but when he stood, he fidgeted.

I leaned forward. “Tell me what you know.”

He shook his head.

“Sully. If you were ever my friend, tell me. Now.”

He sighed, disgusted at himself for tipping me off. “I haven’t seen him. Alecia said he showed up at the hospital one day. Well, not in the hospital. She just happened to see him by the door in the alley. She only caught a glimpse. She wasn’t even sure it was him.”

“When?”

“I dunno. Three weeks ago.”

“What else did she say?” When Sully hesitated, I pushed him further. “You know what he did to Mack?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“No. He kept harassing her. For years, Sully. He sent letters. He watched us. Stalked her. He’s in with some bad people who helped him.”

“Wha—what do you think? He killed her? She was hit by a drunk driver. Mason was nowhere near her. When she died, he nearly offed himself, he…” he trailed off.

I stood and lowered my chin. “How do you know that?”

It seemed to hurt Sully to speak his next words. “Alecia… after she saw him, she… paid Nita a visit. It was this whole operation. She paid some neighborhood kids to come to the door and hard sell Nita some chocolate bars. They had a whole spiel they had to read so she couldn’t buy them to get the kids to go away. It was impressive. While Nita was busy at the door, Alecia searched Mason’s room. She found letters Nita was supposed to send to Mack, and… God dammit, Kitsch.”

“Sully, you’re my best friend, but I’m not going to ask you again.”

He sighed. “She found a journal. Mason’s journal. Everything was in there, I guess. She was going to find you and tell you, but we all agreed. Either she was going to get killed for reading what was in it, or you’d die once you found out. The guy ain’t right in the head, Kitsch. He’s done some really bad shit. He wrote some of it in Russian. He’s killed people.”

“So have I.”

“Terrell…”

“Contact Alecia in the morning. Tell her to hand over the journal. Meet me at my parent’s grave site at seven sharp.”

He shook his head, frustrated. “She won’t give it to me.”

“Don’t give her a choice. I’ll see you at seven.”

He nodded a few times, defeated and then headed for the door.

“Sully?”

He turned to face me.

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