“Come on, guys, seriously, my nose is broke here. Got no wheels. Someone drive me to the fucking hospital!”
Again, Dean offered his services. “I said I will take you.”
Glen ignored him. “Come on, guys, I really don’t want to go with a guy who talks that way about my mother.”
Dean was tempted to apologize til he thought Dwayne never apologized for anything. He kept quiet. Clayton, the lead angel spoke up:
“It’d be good for you two to make up in the car. Let him take you. That’s good of him, good thinking, Dwayne. Go with him, Glen, it would be good for everyone.”
Glen knew when Clayton spoke you listened and even followed, so Glen followed Dean out into the parking lot all way to his black mustang where he looked back at the clubhouse, saw no one watching then told Dean to do something to himself that was anatomically impossible. Dean didn’t fight him, glad to be out of the club house and rid of Glen, who stalked off to hail a taxi.
Dean thought it best to go home (Dwayne’s home, he reminded himself) and lay low for a while and get a grip on what to do next. He didn’t have long to think. As soon as he walked through the door, Dwayne’s girlfriend, Kelly, walked right in behind him.
“Where were you- you’re not Dwayne. I didn’t know Dwayne had a twin brother. Where’s Dwayne? Is he here?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
“We’re swapping places for awhile.”
“He’s at your place? Why? Why hasn’t he called me? Where’s your place?”
“Downtown.”
“Why didn’t he call me? Why are you switching?”
“A crazy ex-girlfriend is after me, so, Dwayne agreed to switch with me.”
“Maybe she’ll still think it’s you. I mean you guys look identical.”
“But you could tell the difference.”
“Yeah.”
“How?” Dean was ready to take notes.
“I don’t know- your smell. Your aura, your-”
“Aura? What do you mean? Explain.”
Kelly was a woman who hated to be commanded to do anything. She took a long pause to tell her boyfriend’s twin to tone down on the orders. When she was ready to speak, she said, “You’re very different, that’s all. You stand differently. And I don’t know you but I bet you’re not a very spiritual man, are you? What’s your name?”
“Dean.”
“Your brother’s more soulful.”
Yes, Dean thought, this is Dwayne’s girlfriend. Stubborn, opinionated, talking of spirituality. Next she’ll read me my horoscope.
Kelly had not shut the door coming in. It was left wide open for Glen to walk through, gun drawn, pointed straight at Dean’s head.
“Hello, Dean,” Glen said, smiling through the pain of a broken nose. He had cleaned up most of the blood from his face. Dean kept his arms at his sides cause Glen had never asked him to raise them. Kelly stood quietly trying not to tremble next to him. “Did you think you were going to pass as your brother, my best friend?”
“You were not my brother’s best friend. My brother’s best friend was shot and killed six months ago.”
“You shut the fuck up! You don’t know- I’m a much better friend to your brother than Jackson was! Your brother and me are tight. I knew you’re twins. I knew as soon as I saw you.”
“No you didn’t. When you first saw me you thought you recognized me and called me Dwayne. You all did.”
“Let’s go.” Glen motioned to the door with his gun, a sleek steel .357 magnum.
“Where we going?”
“I gotta show you to the clubhouse.”
“Can I tie my shoelaces first?”
“Go.”
Dean bent over then reached under his left pant leg and with the speed of true gunfighter, pulled the .22 magnum out of his holster and fired two shots straight into Glen’s chest, bursting his heart and lungs.
“Where does Dwayne usually dump the bodies?” Dean asked Kelly who stood opened mouthed above Glen’s leaking dead body.
“Usually?” She asked, stepping away from the growing puddle of blood.
“Yeah, what does he usually do with the bodies?”
“How the hell should I know? I don’t kill people with him. That’s not something we’ve ever shared together. And I am insulted you just did this without asking if I wanted to be involved in a murder.”
“It was self defense. I’m a cop. It’s not murder.”
“Looked like murder to me.”
“He was holding- look, we don’t have time to nit pick over the definition of murder. We got to hide this body. Any ideas?”
“What are you asking me for? I’m not a murderer.”
“I’m not a murderer either.”
“Yes you are. If not, why do you need to hide the body?”
“This is a special case.”
“I’m going before the cops get here.”
“The cops are here. I’m a cop, I just told you.”
“Can I see your badge? Actually, don’t bother, I wouldn’t know a real one from a fake anyway. See ya.”
She turned to go. Dean stepped between Kelly and the door which he locked. Kelly looked at him, feeling faint, wondering why he’d locked the door. “Wait. There’s something you should know,” he said.
cottonbombs 