Burn: A Novel Read online

  “Two things,” she said. “Actually, three. There’s only one copy, which I assume you’ll want to keep. I’ll need a copy, too. Also, there’s no date specified for where you’d approve the unemployment, so you could hold out a few weeks, figuring I’d get the lottery money before the claim went through, and then it would be denied. The third thing is, there’s no place for your signatures. I’m not going to be the only one signing this.”

  Al had drummed it into her head that she didn’t sign anything without reading it, and especially not unless she understood every word. She’d told Jenner some things to look out for, but Jenner’s own street smarts, plus a lifetime of dealing with Jerry, who took advantage of every loophole he could find or invent, made it tough to put anything over on her. She’d picked up some of Al’s jargon, too, so she could speak these guys’ language. She saw in their eyes that she’d sprung all their little traps.

  She handed the paper back to the man who’d pushed it toward her. “I’ll have those changes made,” he said without a hint of argument, and stepped out of the office.

  They stood in silence, waiting for his return. Almost fifteen minutes lapsed. When he did come back, there were two sheets of paper in his hand. Jenner took them, carefully read them and saw that places for their signatures had been added—in fact, one signature, that of the the owner and president of Harvest Meat Packing, was already present—and that her unemployment claim was to be approved effective that very day. She took that to mean they wanted her to clock out and leave. Fine.

  Silently she scrawled her name on both sheets, watched as they signed in the appointed places, then she took one of the sheets and carefully folded it.

  Gorski escorted her back to her locker, where she stripped out of the coveralls and plastic cap, handed them to him, gathered her stuff—there wasn’t much—and walked out the door for the last time.

  The sun was still shining. She checked her watch; less than an hour had passed since she’d clocked in. Even though she’d left her window rolled down a little, when she opened the Goose’s door, heat rolled out and punched her in the face, so she stood there a minute and fished out her cell phone while she waited. First she called Al. “I’ve been fired. Looks like I’ll be borrowing some money after all. I’ve never done this before, so tell me how I go about it.”

  After Al finished explaining the process and what she should do, Jenner climbed into the Goose and cranked it. As she rumbled out of the parking lot, she called Michelle.

  “Hey, want to go on vacation?”

  Chapter Five

  SHE WAS LATE. SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO MEET MICHELLE at seven and it was already eight thirty. Still, though walking the distance to Bird’s would make her even later, Jenner parked her new car a block away from the bar—she didn’t want any dings marring it. So what if it wasn’t a luxury car? It was a Camry—loaded, but still a Camry—because she couldn’t get her mind around paying two years’ worth of her former salary for a car. She’d had the Camry only a couple of weeks, and she was proud of it. She still inhaled deeply every time she got in it, drinking in the delicious new-car smell.

  She was tired. She sat in the quiet car for a few minutes, her eyes closed. If she hadn’t promised Michelle she’d meet her tonight, she’d have gone home, which was still the duplex because finding a new place to live was taking much longer than picking out a new car, and crashed. Who knew that managing a shitload of money would turn out to be damn near a full-time job?

  Al was great—and was in the process of moving into a better office already—but Jenner insisted on being involved, which meant she spent a lot of time at Payne Echols. She wanted to understand what was going on, why Al was doing what she was doing, and what all the headache-inducing terms meant. She trusted Al, but Al might not always be around, and Jenner didn’t want to be forced to rely on someone else. Her instinct was to get educated, and get control. For too much of the time since she’d picked that winning ticket, she hadn’t had any control over events. Now she did, and the relief was almost staggering.

  The money was hers, now. She’d gone through an excruciating ceremony where cameras flashed in her eyes while she smiled until her facial muscles screamed, and her hand cramped from holding one end of a huge cardboard check—which the lottery people had been careful to tell her wasn’t real and couldn’t be cashed, as if she were the village idiot and couldn’t have figured that out on her own—but at last it had been over and the paperwork finished, and she’d begun stepping back into anonymity … she hoped. The media had gone away, of course. Now, if she could just get settled in a new place and get on with life, she’d be a lot happier.

  Parts of it had been fun. She and Michelle had gone on a great shopping binge, and she’d not only replaced her own wardrobe, but Michelle’s, too. Purses, shoes, good jewelry, silk blouses, sharp and sexy dresses … it had been great. But one of the most disconcerting things she’d learned was that, after a few days, she got bored with shopping. She would never in a million years have thought that would have happened, but there it was. Being able to spend money was great. After the initial glee and spree, though, she hadn’t seen anything else she’d wanted, and boredom had set in. That still felt like some kind of betrayal by the universe.

  Her life had definitely changed. Most of her old friends had fallen by the wayside already, while she’d become very friendly with her lawyer, William Lourdes. He was a shark, but he was her shark. He’d smiled when he’d read the suit Dylan had filed against her. In short order, after Lourdes had filed a countersuit, with prejudice, against Dylan that would have taken everything he owned, Dylan had dropped his suit and dropped out of her orbit. Bill, as Lourdes insisted she call him, had then set about setting up her estate to protect it from all the human vultures who would try to get a piece of it should something happen to her.

  Sitting there in the dark car, Jenner felt a tiny smile move her lips at the very idea that she, Jenner Redwine, had an estate. Wow.

  She also had both a savings account and a checking account at a bank—a bank where the tellers and managers called her by name, and where she was always treated with both kindness and courtesy. A mere two months ago, having even a small checking account hadn’t been on her radar. Now she seemed to spend a lot of time at the bank, moving things in and out of her safe-deposit box, because she couldn’t leave any type of paperwork at the house, not with Jerry still hanging around.

  He hadn’t given up, but then she hadn’t really thought he would. She’d bought him some clothes, even given him a hundred here and there, but without any real hope that he’d leave. She knew her dad. He would play it straight for a while, try to ease her suspicions, then he’d come up with a good reason why he needed a new car, or try to talk her into buying him a condo, or something like that. A few hundred dollars wouldn’t even make a dent in Jerry’s ambition.

  Finally she gathered her energy and climbed out of the Camry She didn’t have to shove her shoulder against the door to force it open, the way she had with the Goose. She hadn’t firebombed the Goose, though she’d thought about it. The poor thing looked like crap, but the motor was dependable, so she’d donated it to a charity. There’d been a time when she’d needed that ugly car; someone else needed it now. Thank God that someone wasn’t her.

  Her energy level picked up as she slung her new, expensive purse over her shoulder and walked toward Bird’s. An evening of laughing and dancing was just what she needed; she’d feel better after a beer. Michelle would already be a drink or two into the evening, and a dance or two—or three—ahead of Jenner, but that was okay, because Jenner didn’t think she’d be able to keep up with her tonight.

  The bar was packed and incredibly noisy—it was a Friday night, after all—so she had to look around the milling bodies for a while before she spotted Michelle, sitting at a table with three other regulars. From the number of glasses and bottles on the table, Michelle and the others had more than a two-drink jump on the evening.

  Jenner wa