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CLAN

Page 8

by Harry Shannon


  Case drank some water. "Let me put it this way, he was a bit of a womanizer."

  Kelly's bright eyes only took a split-second to register complete understanding. "Oh, I get it."

  "Yeah." He felt oddly pleased to discover how intelligent she was. "That's what I'm thinking. Did your employee say anything about a new boyfriend recently?"

  She shook her head. "I didn't know her that well. I don't think she ever did without a man for very long."

  "And Bobby Lawford generally had himself a harem."

  "But how can we be sure they knew each other?"

  "Old saying… If it looks like a duck and quacks and starts waddling the damn thing is probably a duck."

  Her brittle defenses returned. "How pithy."

  Case grunted. "Lady, you need to cut me some slack here. I'm not your enemy."

  "We'll have to see about that." Case could tell she wanted to apologize, but couldn't bring herself to do it right away. He liked that, too. He chewed his food and thought about things.

  "Maybe we should assume they ran off together," he said. "But Bobby wasn't a rich man. His credit card trail stopped here in Lake Tahoe, at least so far—I can run another check over the Internet tonight. So I'm wondering what he's planning to do for traveling money."

  Kelly didn't want to tell him the rest so soon. She shook her head as if mystified. "I don't have a clue. Selma wasn't wealthy, she just hustled the wealthy."

  "Then they'll turn up again soon," Case assured her. He finished his dessert. "I can trace them pretty accurately. It will show up online whenever they use one of his credit cards." He looked up and smiled. He could tell that her wheels were turning. "Is something bothering you?"

  "No," she said. "I'm fine." But she wasn't.

  He got to his feet. "If it is okay with you, let's just combine forces and share information. Maybe I can lead you to your missing package…and you can help me find my client's husband. Then we both go home happy."

  "I guess we could do that.

  "I'm going to get a room here at Harvey's."

  Her smile was wan, sickly. "Uh, sure. Me too, I guess."

  He kept her near him. They left the buffet area and crossed the casino floor without saying another word. The red-haired desk clerk, apparently going off duty for the night, waved at them and smiled.

  Case took Kelly's elbow again. He walked her toward the desk. She stopped a few feet away and started to pace in a tight, concentric pattern, her eyes on the varnished floor. A tall water fountain burbled and hissed behind her. Some little children were squabbling near in the hallway and their voices echoed.

  "I can't."

  "Can't what?"

  "I can't check in. Or use my credit cards."

  "Okay," Case said, politely. "Why not?"

  "Because of what you just said. I left Los Angeles so fast there's nothing in my suitcases but stuff from Target with the price tags on it. There are people looking for me. Bad people. And they must already know I'm in Lake Tahoe because I charged some gas at the foot of the hill."

  Case was intrigued, rather than annoyed. Now they were getting somewhere. "Then I'll get a room with separate beds. It will be in my name. There's no reason anyone would suspect we're together."

  She nodded, embarrassed. "Okay."

  "On one condition."

  "Yes?"

  "Once we get upstairs, you have to tell me who is after you, and what the hell is going on here."

  She swallowed. Her body was oozing fear. "Mr. Case, are you really a cop?" He saw that her body was shaking again. That got him. He took her chin in one hand, lifted it.

  "The truth? I'm retired. So I don't answer to anybody but myself these days. Does that make you feel better?"

  "Yes." She nodded rapidly. "And your client?"

  "She's actually my sister. Bobby is my douchebag brother-in-law. Now let's see if we can make you vanish."

  They checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Case. Joe collected the luggage from Kelly's trunk and put it in his rental. They drove her rental car down the block to the parking lot at Caesar's Palace. Case didn't press her for information. All in good time.

  Kelly sat in the passenger seat, curled up against the chilly night air. Case pulled into a space; tossed the keys onto the floor mat and locked the car. They walked back, carrying their luggage. Halfway up the block he took off his sport jacket and slipped it over her shoulders. Kelly started to object; he could see a tirade on the way, but she caught herself. She muttered a feeble thank you.

  They went into the lobby, their wheeled suitcases trailing noisily behind them. Case waved the bellman away.

  The gold-plated elevator was empty. Once the door whooshed shut, Kelly sagged against the wall. "I'm scared," she said. "I really screwed up, and now some people I don't even know are trying to kill me."

  10

  "Maybe they met online."

  Case had been driving for hours. His mind, which had always tended to be obsessive, was going over and over the story the girl had told him, trying to add up the pieces. Kelly wore blue jeans and a sweatshirt now; she was dozing, her arm curled up against the seat rest. He caught her totally by surprise.

  "Excuse me?"

  "I said maybe they met online. Started up an affair. And then this Selma gets the package from you. She figures she's got a free ticket for a getaway to Reno or Lake Tahoe. She calls Bobby to get him to go with her, but he can't, he's got stuff to do around the house. You with me?"

  Kelly sat up and straightened her seatbelt. The wind was whistling. The Nevada desert was dotted with cactus and dried sage, but otherwise barren and scar-pocked as the surface of another planet. "Yeah, I think I'm with you."

  "So let's say you're right from there. She gets curious, or maybe the package is open a little bit at one edge. She finds out it's got something valuable in it."

  "Cash. Jewelry."

  "Or bearer bonds, most likely. But it's a fortune of some kind. So Selma gets on the phone to Bobby, lets him know what she has and says, 'baby, this is our chance.' He tells Janet some line of crap and he's on the next plane."

  Kelly nodded. "That works for me."

  "You would think they'd stop using the credit card then," Case said. "That's the part that's bothering me."

  "They probably will, as soon as they get far enough into the middle of nowhere."

  He looked at her. Her eyes were puffy from stress and lack of sleep. "What do you mean by that?"

  Kelly reached down and sipped some bottled water. She did not offer him a drink. "Why else would they be driving up to some one-horse desert town in northern Nevada? They're leaving a trail out into the wilds of Utah or something, and then they will switch to using cash."

  "I get you."

  "And drop out of sight."

  Case nodded. "And retire to Europe or Mexico."

  "Anywhere they can live rich and barely be noticed."

  "Meanwhile the Russian mob, or whoever else it was after you, is searching in all the wrong places for years to come."

  "Makes sense."

  Case grinned. "Your friend Selma is pretty smart."

  Kelly scrunched up her face. "Why do you say that?"

  "Has to be," Case said. "Because Bobby Lawford is way too stupid to have thought up any of this on his own."

  Case gripped the wheel and reduced his speed, then stretched a bit before continuing on. "I can't believe we're not there yet."

  "There's nothing much out here to look at. Seems to make everything last forever."

  "I figure we're maybe thirty or forty miles to the cutoff for Salt Lick, so it won't be long."

  "Joe." It was the first time she had used his first name. Case liked the sound of it. "If I do get the money back, will you please help me settle up with these people, whoever they are?"

  "I can broker it for you, yeah."

  "How much do you want?"

  "We can talk about that later."

  They drove on in silence. The previous night had bordered on slapstick;
two complete strangers moving in and out of the same small bathroom, covering up around each other. The only room they could get didn't have double beds, so Case ended up sleeping on the floor, but only after telling her a tightly edited version of his past life, just to get it over with. He had then been tormented by dreams of his dead wife and child, but with a new, less definable sense of shame—perhaps for daring to find another woman attractive for the first time in over a year. For her part, Kelly had listened empathetically but with restraint, then tossed and mumbled. Case heard her cry out in her sleep. Neither one of them had gotten much rest.

  "Salt Lick, seven miles."

  Her voice snapped Case back to present time. "Good," he said. "That's good, because I'm sick of driving."

  The car jumped and backfired; Case felt the power drop away suddenly. He looked down at the dash, but nothing had changed on the various gauges and indicators that would explain the problem.

  "What's that?"

  "I don't know," Case mumbled. The car began to lose speed. 70 to 65 to 60 to 55. "Something seems to be wrong with the engine. Do you smell anything, does it seem like it's running out of water?"

  "I think there's a little steam."

  50 to 45 and then… The power returned and the car began to accelerate. Case frowned. The temperature gauge showed that the engine was on its way to overheating. They were closing in on a town, but still in the middle of nowhere. He dropped to a slower speed, turned on the heater.

  "That's just what I need," Kelly sighed.

  "I know, but it will blow some heat off the engine."

  The road suddenly sloped down into a basin. Case swore.

  "Try your cell phone."

  Kelly flipped hers open, listened and shook her head. "Probably all this damned rock around us."

  The rock faces sloped up on both sides now. They came to a turnoff for Salt Lick. Case eased the car onto the narrow ramp. The gauge was tipping over into the red, and the town was still several miles away. They wouldn't make it before dark, not on foot, and being caught out in the open was not very appealing. He turned the engine off and coasted as far as he could, then pulled over.

  "Try the phone again."

  Kelly spent a few moments in total frustration, walked around the car trying to get a clean signal. Case got out and gathered up the drinking water. He opened the trunk and removed a jacket from his suitcase. "Better get some warm stuff out," he said. "It boils out here during the day, but the nights can be freezing."

  "Best of both worlds, huh? What are we going to do?"

  "We're going to walk it. Probably better to keep moving. We know it's the right road. The car company is either going to have to send us a replacement or pay for an emergency repair."

  "Besides, this next town is where the trail stopped."

  "That it is."

  Case shaded his eyes and looked into the sunset that was creeping down the mountainside. It was gorgeous; multi-colored and soft as cotton candy. The air was already turning cooler. Kelly got a jacket from her suitcase, changed into tennis shoes and slammed the trunk. She saw the inky high desert night rolling toward them and swallowed. "Now I'm kind of glad you've got that gun."

  "They do come in handy."

  A faint buzzing sound reached their ears. It came from behind them, back toward the highway. Case was only half aware of it. He hoped it was a small airplane that might spot them and call it in. He was still watching the sunset, but Kelly was staring back over his right shoulder. The noise began to get under his skin. He glanced over, saw her jaw drop.

  "Joe, what is that?"

  The noise was getting louder. He spun around, alarmed. A shimmering carpet of silver and black was curving over the horizon. Case blinked and squinted. "Oh, crap." The sound reached a crescendo; a low and persistent growling noise that had no beginning, no end. The cool evening was abruptly filled with noise and movement. Some kind of a motorcycle gang was heading their way. A big one.

  "Get behind me, just because."

  "No argument there." Kelly slipped behind him and stayed a step to his right. Case slipped the .38 into his palm and covered it with the jacket. He waved with his other hand; Mr. Friendly out for a drive.

  The group drove closer. It was not as large as it had first appeared. The combination of heat mirage, sunset and anxiety had made it seem enormous. Case now counted sixteen riders, maybe a third of them women, but these were some big, tough-looking women. One had a shaved head and a nose piercing. She looked to the biggest man for orders. The gang came to a halt with engines running. A stench filled the air.

  "Hombre?"

  The one called Hombre seemed to inspire deference in the others. He was bald, but had a huge black beard streaked with grey; he was not tall, but wide. His massive, weightlifter's arms were as big as another man's thighs.

  "Lobo, get their back."

  "Yo."

  The man called Lobo and two other members of the gang rolled around behind Case and Kelly. Case noted that Lobo drove an old-fashioned German motorbike with a sidecar. Kelly moved closer and clung to Case's back. The outlaws laughed; they seemed to enjoy her fear.

  Hombre whistled between two fingers and they all shut off their engines. The sudden silence was startling.

  Case continued to keep the weapon covered and a silly smile on his face—but he was keenly aware of the three men behind him. He listened intently for any threatening movement.

  "Good evening, Mr. Hombre," Case said. "Our car seems to have broken down. Maybe you could help us out?"

  Hombre leaned forward onto his handlebars and then to one side for a peek at Kelly's figure. "What's in it for me?"

  "Gosh," Case said, innocently, "we don't have much money on us. Maybe I could pull some from an ATM in town to help you guys out with some gas." His nerd act was greeted with hoots and jeers. One of the males behind Case, the one they called Lobo, changed position and parked his bike. Case stiffened and moved his feet further apart, knees slightly bent. He decided he would shoot Hombre first, then Lobo…and hope the rest backed down when they saw the fallen bodies.

  Hombre wriggled his eyebrows and sniffed the air like an animal. "Hey, I smell fresh pussy!"

  More hoots and howls of laughter. Kelly's temper overrode her common sense. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

  "Oh, yeah," Hombre called. "She got spunk. I like that."

  "She wants your spunk," the bald woman called. "You got some for her, Hombre? Huh?"

  Hombre dropped his kickstand and stepped off the bike. It was getting hard to make out his facial expression due to the dimming light, but he seemed to be grinning. "You want to know who I am, little tight-ass tourist lady? I'm numero uno around here, is what. And right now I'm also the man who has your life in his hands."

  "Easy friend," Case said. "This could get out of hand."

  "Damn straight," Hombre replied. He moved closer, and that's when Case felt the man behind him getting set. He eased Kelly back against the side of the rental car, so he wouldn't have to worry about her. He angled himself, cocked the pistol and started to pull the coat away from his arm.

  WHOOP! WHOOP!

  Red and white lights twirling, a siren flashing: Someone had rolled a squad car to within thirty feet of the confrontation without being observed. Surprisingly, the biker gang reacted by shrinking away. Even Hombre seemed uncomfortable. Case could see him torn between pride and fear; he wanted to back down but not in front of his crew. Meanwhile, a wiry man of average height exited the patrol car. He wore a tan cowboy hat and a standard-issue beige uniform with a Sheriff's badge. He had a lean, marathon runner's body.

  "There some kind of a problem?"

  Case decided to give Hombre a way out. "Actually, no Sheriff. Our car broke down and these nice folks were just offering to tell the nearest mechanic that we were stuck and we'd be waiting for him."

  Behind Case, the man called Lobo shook with laughter. "This boy got game," he called. Several others chuckled.

  It was Hom
bre's turn to look shocked. He stepped back, spread his hands wide and turned it all into a joke. "Yeah, Mr. Whitley, at first we was trying to scare these folks a little, and they didn't even blink. I was just sayin' how we'd tell Luke to come on back out here with his truck and pick 'em up when you showed."

  "So you was prepared to do your civic duty," drawled Sheriff Whitley. "Maybe you boys are finally coming to your senses."

  "We respect the law, Sheriff."

  "Glad to hear it."

  The gang chuckled and shuffled around. A few of them started their engines again. Hombre strolled back to his Harley like a man without a care in the world and fired it up. He whistled again and the group began to peel out. They were gone in an amazingly brief period of time.

  Grateful, Case watched Sheriff Whitley, who had returned to the patrol car, as he spoke into his handset. The lawman nodded a couple of times. Whitley looked up at Case and called to him.

  "Boy name of Luke and his brothers run a garage in town, tending to farm equipment and other kinds of ve-hicles. He's right close to us now, and he'll haul on over here and tow you folks into Salt Lick and fix you up. Said he'd be here in maybe five, ten minutes."

  Case had already decided to continue his dimwitted persona. "Thanks, sir. We appreciate it!"

  The sheriff nodded, tipped his hat to Kelly and started making notes on a clipboard. Case wondered what the hell the sheriff of a one-horse town would have to write down, but then decided that a broken down rental car was probably what passed for an exciting event around Salt Lick.

  As promised, in a matter of minutes a pair of headlights pierced the darkness and a battered blue tow truck pulled up. The young man who emerged was a smallish but lean and handsome kid with freckles and carrot hair. He had a body a builder would call 'ripped.'

  "Thanks for showing up," Case called.

  The kid nodded politely and set to work. He had the Toyota on a lift and ready to be towed in a few short minutes. In fact, his efficiency was remarkable. He was obviously quite strong; he threw their suitcases into the high bed of the truck with a grunt. Case was starting to feel like a chubby old man around these parts. Once everything was ready to go, Sheriff Whitley waved and drove away. The kid called Luke smiled like someone whose mind was elsewhere.

 

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