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was your daughter. You just happened to ask about your daughter, and I happened to ask if you’d checked the trunk. Simple coincidence.”  
    I took a long pull of the Marlboro, tried to remain calm. Was having a hell of a time pulling it off, though I was more than relieved that it had just been a mannequin and not really Casey.  
    “You bastard,” I said. “I thought ... I thought she was dead!”  
    “Of course you did, Ben. Why else do you think we put it in there? I’ll have to admit, the expression on your face was perfect. But the fact that you then threw up—well, that just made it priceless.”  
    I didn’t say anything and kept my eyes on the road. It hadn’t really occurred to me before, but at that moment it struck me hard that I was on camera. The only question was, where the fuck was the camera and were there others?  
    “Ben? What’s wrong? You have a strange look on your face.”  
    I glanced around the car, at the dash and the rearview mirror and the passenger side foot well. I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”  
    “No, it’s definitely something. Spill it.”  
    “I’m just—I’m wondering how you can see me, is all. Like where the camera is and everything.”  
    “It doesn’t matter how I can see you, Ben. What matters is that I can. Just like how I saw you handle the cop. I must say, while you did do something quite stupid, you handled yourself well.”  
    The road stretched out before me. The sky had darkened even more. I wanted another cigarette but told myself not yet.  
    “What did I do that was stupid?”  
    “The first rule I explained to you was don’t talk to cops. Now in that situation, I can understand you had no choice. But asking him to give you a ticket? Are you joking?”  
    “Guilty people never ask to be punished. They’re too worried already obsessing over it. Innocent people have nothing to worry about.”  
    “I see. So your asking for a ticket was your way of pleading innocent. Sure, makes perfect sense. And all the while you weren’t thinking about how maybe the cop wouldn’t help you out?”  
    “How the hell is he going to help me out? This car’s not even mine. If he ran the plates it would probably come up stolen anyhow.” I paused. “What would happen if he ran the plates?”  
    Simon said, “I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you. All you need to worry about is getting to Reno. Should take you less than an hour if you don’t stop.”  
    “Where am I going to go once I get there?”  
    “I think you fail to understand our relationship, Ben. You don’t get to ask questions. But to answer you, just this once, I’ll call you when you get there. In the meantime though, I do want to ask you one more thing.”  
    Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed the pack of smokes, stuck one in my mouth, punched the cigarette lighter.  
    “What’s that?”  
    “I’m just wondering,” he said, “has your wife ever let you cum on her face?”

 
     
     
    15

    I reached Reno a little over an hour later. I drove straight through, even though the gas gauge told me the Dodge had less than a quarter tank left. I wasn’t worried. By that time I had already concluded that if anything were to happen to the car, Simon would provide. He’d somehow know about it, would give me a call, and tell me to hold on. Who knows, maybe he’d send a limo. Add to the entertainment, whatever the fuck that meant.  
    Roughly five miles past the Nevada state border I started seeing signs of solid civilization again. Just like when I passed through Redding, the trees dropped away from either side of the highway to reveal the lights of buildings and houses and stores. Even billboards for gas stations and fast food places were lit up along the highway, reassuring any weary traveler that their money is always welcome.  
    I continued down 395, headed toward the heart of Reno. As I passed over some train tracks the phone started to vibrate. I waited