The eighth car went by doing seventy at least, heading eastbound to the island. Joe Winder saw the brake lights wink and heard the tires squeal. Slowly the car backed up. The door on the passenger side swung open.
A voice said: “My God, are you all right?”
“Not really,” said Joe Winder. Half-blind, he was trying to fit himself into the car when he encountered something large and fuzzy on the upholstery.
It was an animal head. He hoped it was not real.
Carrie Lanier picked it up by the snout and tossed it into the back seat. She took Joe Winder’s elbow and helped him sit down. Reaching across his lap, she slammed the car door and locked it. “I can’t believe this,” she said, and stepped on the accelerator.
To Joe Winder it felt as if they were going five hundred miles an hour, straight for the ocean.
Carrie Lanier kept glancing over at him, probably to make sure he was still breathing. After a while she said, “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“Joe. Joe Winder.”
“Joe, I can’t believe they did this to you.”
Winder raised his head. “Who?” he said. “Who did this to me?”
NINE
Carrie Lanier pulled off Joe Winder’s shoes and said, “You want me to call your girlfriend?”
Winder said no, don’t bother. “She’ll be home in a couple hours.”
“What does she do? What kind of work?”
“She talks dirty,” said Joe Winder, “on the phone.”
Carrie sat on the edge of the bed. She put a hand on his forehead and felt for fever.
He said, “Thanks for cleaning me up.”
“It’s all right. You want more ginger ale?”
“No, but there’s some Darvocets in the medicine cabinet.”
“I think Advils will do just fine.”
Winder grunted unhappily. “Look at me. You ever see a face like this on an Advil commercial?”
She brought him one lousy Darvocet and he swallowed it dry. He felt worse than he could remember ever feeling, and it wasn’t only the pain. It was anger, too.
“So who beat me up?” he said.
“I don’t know,” said Carrie Lanier. “I imagine it was somebody from the park. I imagine you stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I didn’t,” Joe Winder said, “not yet.”
He felt her rise from the bed, and soon heard her moving around the apartment. He called her name and she came back to the bedroom, sitting in the same indentation on the mattress.
“I was looking for something to bandage those ribs.”
“That’s okay,” said Winder. “It only hurts when I breathe.”
Carrie said, “Maybe I don’t need to tell you this, but the Amazing Kingdom is not what it seems. It’s not fun and games, there’s a ton of money at stake.”
“You mean it’s a scam?”
“Hey, everything’s a scam when you get down to it.” Her voice softened. “All I’m saying is, stick to your job. I know it’s boring as hell, but stick to it anyway. You shouldn’t go poking around.”
Joe Winder said, “My poking days are over.”
“Then what were you doing out there tonight?”
“Meeting someone at the bridge. What about you?”
“I had a free-lance gig,” Carrie said. “A birthday party up in South Miami. Mummy and Daddy wanted Junior to meet Robbie Raccoon in person. What the heck, it was an easy five hundred. And you should’ve seen the house. Or should I say mansion.”
Floating, Joe Winder said: “What do you have to do at these parties?”
“Dance with the kiddies. Waggle my coon tail. Juggle marshmallows, whatever. And pose for pictures, of course. Everybody wants a picture.”
She touched his brow again. “You’re still hot. Maybe I ought to call your girlfriend at work.”
“Don’t do that,” said Joe Winder, “please.” He didn’t want Carrie to hook up with Miriam by accident. Miriam and her hot-tub “blow-jobs.”
“This is important,” he said. “Did you see anyone else on the road out there? Like maybe a circus-type person.”
“You’re not well,” said Carrie Lanier.
“No, I mean it. Big guy with a beard. Flowers on his head.” It sounded so ridiculous, maybe he’d hallucinated the whole thing.