“And I,” Danni chimed in, “could wear nylon dresses, one of those big hats with a veil, and high heels while I answered the phone, chewed gum, and did my nails all day.”
“Perfect,” Crockett said. “We’d change your name to Gertie. Tough as iron with a heart of gold.”
Danni giggled. “You’d have to lose the ponytail, though,” she said. “Out of character for a tough guy private eye.”
Crockett shook his head and flopped into the recliner. “Sorry,” he said. “Deal’s off. Most of the hair I have left is in this ponytail. As long as I still have it I don’t have to admit that I’m bald.”
He examined the directions on the label of the small bottle of medication and looked around the room. Nudge was perched on the end of the couch. Crockett removed the cap and looked at the cat.
“C’mere, Nudge.”
The cat owled his ears and didn’t move.
“Nudge Man. C’mere.”
Nudge left his ears in their laid-back condition and lashed his tail.
“Aw, c’mon, Nudge. Dammit! Get over here.”
Nudge issued a low hiss, vacated the area, and vanished up the stairs. Danielle held out her hand.
“Gimme that,” she said.
Crockett turned over the ear mite medicine and watched her trail after the cat. He got up, grabbed a can of V8 out of the fridge, and waited for the sounds of battle. No more than ninety seconds had elapsed when Danni returned to the room and put the bottle on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“I’ll do it again tonight, then twice tomorrow and twice the next day,” she said. “That’ll kill the mites and the eggs. Then I’ll clean his ears out again. That should take care of it.”
“Amazing,” Crockett said.
“He’s no trouble.”
“Ruby and I took him to a vet once for some car-sick meds, and he damn near shredded the poor guy over one lousy pill!”
“Nudge?”
“Yeah. He just let you squirt stuff in his ears?”
“Easy. He’s real good about it.”
Crockett took a sip of his juice and the little light above his head clicked on. “You like animals, huh?”
“Sure. Ya know where you stand with a dog or a cat or a horse. They don’t lie or cheat or anything. They’re just right there, ya know. In the moment. People aren’t like that.”
“Not many of ‘em,” Crockett said.
“I always wanted a horse,” Danni went on, “but I was never in a place where I could have one.”
“Did you ever have a dog or a cat?”
“Dog,” Danni said. “When I was little. His name was Stretch. He got hit by a car. I had some goldfish once. They died, too.”
“Given any thought to what you wanna do after this mess with Train is settled?”
“Not really. I mean, I know I gotta do something. I don’t wanna be a secretary or sell shit or work in a factory. I don’t know. Mom says I’m pretty smart. High school was no trouble. I just coasted and graduated when I was sixteen. I learn stuff pretty easy.”
“How ‘bout a veterinary assistant?”
“Me?”
“Sure. There are schools for that kinda thing. You should look into it. You could even be a vet, if you wanted to be. Probably some veterinarians out there who’d hire you as an assistant and, if you impressed them, would probably keep you on part-time while you went on and got your degree.”
“Wow. I never thought of that. It’s like a dream or something.”
“Tell ya what,” Crockett went on. “Think about it. If you’re serious and decide that is what you’d like to do, I’ll help with financing. Your mom’ll help with a place to live and part-time babysitting. And when you’re halfway through the course, doing well, and enjoying what you do, I’ll get four or five acres cleared out here, put up a loafing shed and a small tack and feed barn, and you can get a horse.”
Danni looked at him as if Crockett had two heads. “You’d do that?”
“With two conditions. You go through with your education, and you get a quarter horse. No saddlebreds, no Foxtrotters, no A-rabs. A quarter horse.”
Danni was still staring at him. Her eyes filled with tears that began to roll down her face. “Really?” she said.
“Really.”
Danni advanced on him. “Can I hug you?” she asked.
Grinning, Crockett stood up. “I’d be real disappointed if you didn’t,” he said.
She hit him like a ten-year-old who just got surprised with a brand new puppy. Crockett chuckled in her ear while she cried in his. The hug ended self-consciously for both of them, and she dropped to a seat on the couch, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Crockett grabbed a paper towel off the counter, and she clutched it to her face. Eventually, Danni blew her nose and looked at him.
“You must love my mom a lot,” she said.
“I do, but what makes you say that?”
“To do all you’re doing for me and stuff. You must really love my mom.”
“I let you come out here because I love Satin,” Crockett said. “You earned this deal all on your own. I think you’re a terrific person. A lot of people have helped me. I’m just passing it on.”
Danielle blew her nose again. “Shit,” she said. “I feel like I’m fifteen or something.”
“You are,” Crockett replied. “And now you have a chance to grow up with people who care about you. Satin and I have talked this over. We want you to do well and are willing to help.”
Danni wiped her eyes again, and her gaze shifted to the telephone on the kitchen counter. “Can I call my mom?” she asked.
“I think that would be just right,” Crockett said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
To give Danni a little space, Crockett went outside and puttered around most of the afternoon. He was draining the hot tub when a UPS van arrived. The driver was younger than most.
“Wow,” the young man said, looking around after he climbed out of the truck. “This is nice. I didn’t even know anybody lived out here. Thought the county owned all of this.”
“Almost all,” Crockett replied. “You’re from around here, huh?”
“All my life.”
“Damn near everybody I’ve met from around here has always been from around here. Anybody from around here ever leave?”
The kid’s eyebrows flew up. “You mean we can? Do I need written permission or something?”
Crockett laughed while the driver plucked a plain brown package about the size of a shoebox out of the van. “David Crockett?”
“That’s me.”
“There ya go,” the kid went on, producing a computerized clipboard for Crockett to sign. “That’ll do it. This is my route now. Probably see ya again if I don’t leave. Now that I know I can, it’s a hell of a temptation.”
Smiling, Crockett looked at the package as the truck pulled away. The return address stated the delivery was from the “Cletus Marshal Idiot Supply House and Dumbass emporium.” Now what?
Back in the cabin, Crockett grabbed a Coke out of the fridge, lit a Sherman, and sat at the kitchen counter. He could hear the vacuum running in the loft. Just as he was removing the outer layer of brown wrapping paper the noise overhead ceased, and Danni came into the room carrying a glass with melted ice cube residue in the bottom. She stopped at the breakfast bar and sat across from him.
“Whatcha got?” she asked
“I dunno. Something from Clete.”
“Clete?”
“Cletus Marshal.”
“Oh. That guy that’s kinda like your partner?”
“Yeah. That’s him.”
“Mom told me about him. She and he, ah, she really trusts him, ya know?”
“So do I,” Crockett said, removing the last of the wrapping. “Clete’s as good as they get.”
Taped to the lid of the box was an envelope with the instructions “open this before you open the box,” scrawled across the flap. Crockett ripped the end of the envelope apart an
d withdrew a sheet of paper with a typed message.
Crockett…don’t handle the contents of this box without gloves.
Detailed instructions are inside. Try not to hurt yourself.
Damn! He’d been kidding, but Clete had actually done it. Crockett slipped the message back in the envelope, stubbed out his cigarette, grabbed what was left of the Coke, and turned to Danni.
“I have to deal with this,” he said. “I’ll see you a little later.”
Danielle watched him pick up the box and head toward the back of the cabin. She was curious. She was also bright enough not to ask questions.
Danni was sitting on the porch with Nudge and Dundee about an hour later when Crockett arrived on the scene. He seemed a little edgy.
“How ya doin’?” she asked.
“Fine,” Crockett said, opening the grill and peering into its gaping maw. “You getting hungry?”
“Pretty soon.”
“Okay. I’ll fix dinner.”
“Can I help?”
“In the fridge you’ll find some ears of corn. Pull the husks back and scrape off the silk, then put ‘em in water for about twenty minutes. After that, wrap a strip of bacon around the kernels, pull the husks back up, and tie ‘em in place with some string you’ll find in the junk drawer. I’ll get a fire going.”
Danni looked at the grill and grinned. “Okay, Poindexter,” she said, “but be careful. Remember last time.”
The butterfly chops, new potatoes, and bacon-wrapped sweet corn were a major hit. It was dark outside as Danni finished rinsing the dishes and Crockett rose to wipe down the counter.
“We make a pretty good team, kid,” he said.
Danni’s reply was stopped by the distant ringing of her cell phone. She disappeared into her bedroom. Crockett finished his counter wiping and was filling Nudge’s water bowl when Danielle walked back into the kitchen. Her movements were wooden, and she seemed disassociated.
“What’s wrong?” Crockett asked.
“Train.”
“What about him?”
“He went to Misty’s.”
“The club you were dancing at when he found you?”
“Yeah. Kineesha just called. Said this huge black guy showed up about an hour ago looking for me. They told him I hadn’t been there in days. He tore through the place, busted into the dressing area, pushed a couple of the girls around, kicked the shit out of the bouncer, and left. She also said the guy was wearing one of those collars for whiplash and had a bandaged hand. They called the cops, but he’d been gone for a while when they showed up.”
Crockett sighed. “Anybody hurt bad?”
“Jake, that’s the bouncer, went to the hospital. Kineesha said his face was all cut up and his jaw was on wrong.”
Crockett’s face was expressionless. “Fine,” he said. “That about finishes it. Once again Cletus Marshal is right on time.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. What color is Train’s house?”
“Pale green with dark green trim.”
“He have a garage?”
“Yeah, but it just holds one car. It faces the street, and part of his house is built above it.”
“How far back from the road?”
“Fifty or seventy-five feet maybe. It’s a big lot. Sits on the corner.”
“Okay. I’m gonna be tied up for a while. Then I’ll be gone for a while, but I’ll be back in time for breakfast. Corned beef hash and poached eggs sound good?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Danni replied. “What are you gonna do?”
Crockett’s smile was brittle. “De-rail a locomotive,” he said.
Crockett spent the next hour getting supplies together. He put the stuff in his truck, then changed into new blue jeans, a dark gray shirt, and a black Cabela’s ball cap. Danni, sitting on the deck in the dark, kept her back to the house and did not acknowledge his movements. Fifty-five minutes later Crockett, cruising through the parking lot at Heels, saw Train’s massive Lincoln by the rear door. He turned out of the lot and headed for West Fifty-Second Street in Merriam, Kansas.
Train’s house was almost exactly as Danielle had described it. Crockett sat nearly two blocks away up a shallow hill and looked the place over with a light gathering scope. A distant streetlight provided more than enough illumination for him to check everything out. Traffic was almost nonexistent at two a.m. During the thirty minutes he watched the place, he saw no foot traffic at all.
Crockett put on lightweight black cotton gloves, drove his truck down the street to just past the side of the house, grabbed his small satchel, and moved through the un-fenced back yard and around the rear of the dwelling to the front side. A quarter moon did little to brighten the scene. The garage door was painted dark green. In front of it, Crockett appeared to be little more than a shadow. He removed a large, hypodermic-style, epoxy dispenser from the bag and rapidly, but carefully, ran a bead of the thick adhesive down each side of the garage door where it met the framework of the house. It would take about thirty minutes for the epoxy resin to set, but when it did, it would be nearly impossible to open the door.
That done, he rummaged in the satchel for a moment and removed a plum-sized wad of glazing putty. Moving to the center of the garage door in line with the handle, he pushed the putty onto the doorframe above his head and spread it out to about three inches square. He then returned to the bag, this time carefully lifting out a black box about the size of two packs of cigarettes. He gently flipped a small toggle switch on the end of the device. This action was answered almost immediately by a quiet “beep.”
Gingerly, Crockett reached overhead and pressed the box firmly onto the puddle of putty. He held it there for a moment to make sure of the contact, then slowly took his hands away. A burning trickle into his left eye brought into focus the fact that he sweating much more than the temperature could account for. Blinking the sweat away, he confirmed that the box was secure. Sighing with relief, he cut down the side yard to the truck, pulled a block or two out of the area, and mopped his face and forehead with his sleeve. Jesus. He was too old for this shit.
An hour and a half later, back in his original position two blocks up the street, Crockett watched headlights approach from the rear of his truck. He leaned over in the seat until they went by, then looked out the windshield to see a light blue Lincoln rolling sedately down the shallow slope in front of him. Crockett lifted another black box out of the bag, this one slightly smaller than a pack of cigarettes that also had a small toggle switch mounted on the edge. Crockett flipped the switch and a tiny LED light activated on the front of the box, glowing blue. Beside the light was another toggle switch, this one covered by a perforated metal plate. The plate slid out of the way on lubricated hinges, and the switch beneath it was exposed. Crockett didn’t touch it.
He watched as the car made a right two blocks down, then a left into Train’s driveway. The Lincoln stopped in front of the garage, and Crockett could visualize Train’s banana-sized fingers pressing the button to open the door over and over again, to no avail. A quick glance with the scope confirmed what Crockett had hoped for. Train was alone. Presently, the big man nearly bolted from the car and stalked to the garage door. Crockett could easily see Train’s anger at the door’s failure to open. The immense man grabbed the handle and wrenched the door upward, but it wouldn’t budge. When Train tried again, Crockett flipped the switch.
It wasn’t like the movies. There was no deep and thunderous boom, no breath-stealing concussion, no massive black cloud roiling skyward, punctuated by orange highlights and falling debris. There was, simply, a brilliant white light and a sharp crack. Crockett, thankfully, had abandoned the scope when he activated the explosive. Looking through it again, he saw the center third of the garage door was no longer in place. Train also was no longer in place. He had been reduced to a smoldering misshapen pile on the cement in front of the Lincoln. Small flames licked at the frame above where the center of the door had been. As lights began to com
e on in some of the surrounding houses, Crockett made a U-turn, and motored away.
He never even heard a siren.
Dawn had yet to arrive when Crockett pulled in at the cabin. To his surprise, Dundee greeted him as he got out of the truck.
“What are you doing up at this hour, young lady?” he asked, scratching her back while she wiggled in front of him. He followed along as the dog led him to the front porch. There, amazingly contorted in the canvas chair and wrapped in a light blanket, was Danielle, her head lolling to one side as she softly snored. Dundee trailed him into the kitchen for breakfast.
He fed the dog, gave Nudge a small chunk of left over pork chop as a treat, and started coffee. While it dripped, he gathered three aspirins from the bath medicine cabinet and the tube of muscle cream Satin had used on his shoulder. He carried the goodies and two coffees back out on the porch, arranged everything neatly on the railing, and rubbed Danielle lightly on the top of her head. Her response was less that literate.
“Glarf,” the girl muttered, backhanding her nose.
Crockett smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. Your head’s gonna fall off in a minute. Time to wake up.”
Danni jerked and attempted to right herself. With a squeak, she clutched at her neck and carefully eased her head into a vertical position.
“Damn,” she said.
“You been out here all night?”
The girl’s eyes opened and she blearily focused on Crockett. “You’re back.” she stated.
“I’m am.”
Danni lurched to her feet and leaned into him for balance. “Ow!” she said, rubbing her neck. Crockett put his arms around her until she stabilized a bit.
“Are you okay?” she said.
“I’m okay.”
“And everything else? Is it okay, too?”
“Everything, with the possible exception of your neck, is okay. I assume you didn’t go to bed?”
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