Page 33 of The Bad Weather Friend

“Whose eye?” Benny inquired nervously.

“We’ll begin tonight,” Spike declared, still focused on the lamp as if it was asking for trouble. “First we’ll pay a visit to Mr. Hanson Duroc.”

“Handy? Handy Duroc? My old boss at Surfside?”

Spike turned his faded-blue eyes on Benny, which made Benny feel like an innocent chair about to be broken. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Benjamin.”

“The bottom of what? Hey, I don’t want to get to the bottom of anything. I’ve already hit bottom and begun to bounce back. I don’t want to go to the bottom again.”

“For what Mr. Hanson Duroc did to you, we’ll make him sorry he was ever born.”

“No, no, no. It was an at-will agreement. Each of us had the right to terminate our agreement.” A minute ago, Benny wouldn’t have imagined himself defending Handy Duroc. Even now he couldn’t imagine himself making Handy wish he’d never been born. “That’s not the kind of thing I do. What would that even entail? It would have to entail some really ugly behavior. I don’t hurt people. I try to be nice. It’s important to me to be nice.”

To Harper, Spike said, “Does he always babble like this?”

“I don’t know him that well, only since breakfast yesterday. I think he might have a tendency to babble, but he only indulges in it when he’s under a lot of stress. Listen, big guy, if you’re going to go off with Benny to see this Duroc or anyone else, I’m going with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you take the spell off Bob.”

Benny regarded her with astonishment, flummoxed that she seemed to be adapting to this insane situation as though giantsnamed Spike came into her life with regularity, talking about making people wish they’d never been born.

“I completely understand,” Spike said. “You have an obligation to Mr. Jericho, just as I have an obligation to Benjamin. That is most admirable of you.”

“You don’t have any obligation to me,” Benny protested.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“Oh, really. Whodoesmake the decision?”

“That’s not for you to know.”

“Who do you work for?”

“I’m a free agent. Right now I work for you.”

“For me? Well, I’m not paying you to make people wish they were never born.”

“I should have said that I’ll be working on your behalf. Free of charge. I have no need of money.” Squinting, with an expression of disgust, Spike surveyed the living room. Although there was no sibilant in the word, he managed to hiss it: “White, white, white.”

Benny didn’t get angry; he really didn’t. Anger didn’t solve anything. However, he wasn’t an automaton; he was assailed by other emotions, plenty of other emotions like perplexity, frustration, and anxiety. At the moment he was anxious, frustrated, and perplexed all at the same time, and simultaneously entertaining so many intense emotions was exhausting. He wanted to lie down, but he needed to stay on his feet, ready to run. “What’s wrong with you? Something’s very wrong with you. I won’t participate in murder. This is crazy. It’s lunacy.”

“We won’t have to murder Mr. Duroc to squeeze information out of him,” Spike assured Benny. “He was pressured to do what he did. The real villains are others. Properly motivated, Mr. Duroc will tell us who at least one of them was. I have helped many likeyou, Benjamin. I am good at this. It is my mission in life. I have no other.”

“‘Properly motivated’? What’s that mean?”

Instead of answering the question, Spike said, “However, you must understand it’s possible that, before the night is out, we’ll be led to someone who will be as happy to shoot you in the head as he was to instigate the destruction of your career. Then we might have to terminate him. In such a case, that will be self-defense, not murder, but merely a justified killing.”

“‘Merely a justified killing,’” Benny echoed. “Well, see, it might surprise you to know I’ve never engaged in justified killing, and I will not be a party to it tonight or tomorrow night or ever.”

Harper patted his shoulder as she might have patted the head of a basically good dog temporarily agitated by the arrival of the mail carrier. “Now, Benny, you never know what difficult choices life might present to you.”

Benny gaped at her.

She patted him some more. “You’re very sweet, and that’s good. A girl likes sweetness in a guy. But you’re quite naive, too, and that’s not so good.”

“Respect the little lady,” Spike advised. “She’s a keeper.”

“You’re fired,” Benny said.

Spike smiled and shook his head. “You can’t fire me. I don’t workforyou. I workon your behalf.” Sparing the Lucite lamp, the giant started across the room toward Benny, his smile seeming to be one of forbearance and genuine though tenuous affection. “Trust me, Benjamin, and I will always keep a kindliness of heart toward you even when your behavior is vexatious.”

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