Lost Light

and small medical equipment. Sitting on a soap dish was a plastic bottle with an open top. It looked like something normally found on a touring bike but a little different. The neck was wider and it was slightly curved. Probably to make the drinking angle a little more comfortable, I thought. I quickly took the flask out of my jacket and then poured a couple ounces of Bushmills into the bottle. When I took it out to the bedroom Cross’s eyes widened in horror.
    “No, not that! That’s a piss bottle! It goes under the chair.”
    “Ah, shit! Sorry.”
    I turned around and went back to the bathroom, pouring the booze out into the sink just as Cross yelled, “No, don’t!”
    I looked back out at him.
    “I would’ve taken it.”
    “Don’t worry. I’ve got more.”
    After the piss bottle was rinsed and returned to the soap dish I went back out to the bedroom.
    “Law, there’s no drinking bottle in there. What do you want me to do?”
    “Goddamn, she probably took it. She knows what I’m up to. You have the flask?”
    “Yeah, right here.”
    I tapped it from the outside of my sport coat.
    “Bring it out. Let me have a taste.”
    I pulled the flask out and opened it. I brought the mouth to his and let him take a swallow. He coughed loudly and some of it spilled down his cheek and neck.
    “Ah, Jesus!” he gasped.
    “What?”
    “Jesus…”
    “What? Law, you all right? I’ll get Danny.”
    I made a move toward the door but he stopped me.
    “No, no. I’m fine. I’m fine. I just… it’s been a long time, is all. Give me another.”
    “Law, we’ve got to talk.”
    “I know that. Just give me another taste.”
    I held the flask to his mouth again and poured in a good jolt. He took it down well this time and closed his eyes.
    “Black Bush… Jesus, is that good.”
    I smiled and nodded.
    “Fuck the meds,” he said. “Give me Bushmills anytime, Harry. Any fucking time.”
    He was a man who couldn’t move but I could still see the whiskey work into his eyes and soften them.
    “She won’t give me anything,” he said. “Doctor’s orders. Only time I get a nip is when one of you guys comes by and visits. And that ain’t often. Who wants to come and see this sorry sight…
    “You gotta keep coming, Harry. I don’t care about the case, clear it, don’t clear it, but keep comin’ to see me.”
    His eyes moved to the flask.
    “And bring your friend there. Always bring a friend.”
    It was beginning to dawn on me. Cross had held back on me. I had come to him the day before I went to Taylor. Cross had been the place to start. But he had held back in order to bring me back-with a flask. Maybe the whole thing, his call to reawaken the case in me had all been about one thing. The flask.
    I held the wallet-size container up.
    “You held back on me, Law, so I’d bring you this.”
    “No. I was going to have Danny call you. There was something I forgot.”
    “Yeah, well, I already know it. I go talk to Taylor and the next thing I know I get a visit from the sixth floor telling me to lay off, it’s being worked. By people who don’t fuck around.”
    Cross’s eyes were darting back and forth in his frozen face.
    “No,” he said.
    “Who came to see you before me, Law?”
    “No one. Nobody’s come about the case.”
    “Who did you call before you called me?”
    “Nobody, Harry, I promise.”
    I must have raised my voice because the door to the bedroom suddenly opened and Cross’s wife stood there.
    “Is everything okay?”
    “Everything is fine, Danny,” her husband said. “Leave us alone.”
    She stood in the doorway for a moment and I saw her eyes go to the flask in my hand. For a moment, I thought about taking a drink from it myself, so she might think it was there for me. But in her eyes I could see she knew exactly what was going on. She didn’t move for a long moment and then her eyes came up to mine and held for a moment. She then took a step back and closed the door. I looked back at Cross.
    “If she didn’t know she knows now.”
    “I don’t care. What time is it, Harry? I can’t see the screen too good.”
    I looked up at the corner of the television screen where CNN always carried the time.
    “It’s eleven-eighteen. Who came out to see you, Law? I want to know who is working the case.”
    “I’m telling you, Harry, nobody came. As far as I knew, the case was deader than these goddamn legs of mine.”
    “Then what was it you didn’t tell me when I was here