Sunglasses held the cage door and Bandana carefully slipped him back inside. He slid the latch shut and flipped it. “See. Locks every time. No broken latch here.”
“You bringing that thing or what? I’m leaving here with my money, one way or another.”
Matt Macon walked to the top of the bank. I looked at him, then shifted quickly to keep my face from him. It had been dark last night, so maybe he wouldn’t recognize me.
He crossed the dried ground, and I could feel the moment when he realized he knew me.
“Hey,” he said. Not a “hi” kind of a “hey.” A “what the hell?” kind of “hey.”
I pasted a smile on my face and turned to him. He was looking from me to Stump and back again. I guess even if he wasn’t sure about me, there simply weren’t two dogs in the world that looked like Stump.
“Oh, hey,” I said, as if I was running into him on the coffee aisle at Walmart. I raised the hand not holding Stump and waggled my fingers a little. “How’s it going?”
Viv said, “Dale, I thought you were going to pee your pants.”
Macon’s eyes stayed on mine, and one eyebrow raised when Viv said, “Dale.” He cocked his head toward Dale. “So that’s your husband?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He turned to Dale and stuck out his hand. “Did your wife tell you I met her last night?”
Sunglasses sniggered and I gave him a look, which had almost the same effect that Bandana’s look had had – he studied the ground intently.
Dale, however, barked with laughter. “My wife? Are you kidding me?”
Others were coming up now from the river bottom, and things were starting to feel distinctly outnumbered-ish. One guy held a dead rooster by the feet.
Matt Macon stepped back, his arms folded over his chest, and I was aware of how silent things had suddenly become.
“What, were you telling me a fib last night? What were you doing digging around the Dumpster last night?”
“I – uhh – I...” That was pretty much all that came to mind.
“And what are you doing down here now? Or are you going to tell me a fib now, too?” He took an ominous step closer.
They all took an ominous step closer, I thought. Or that could have just been my imagination.
“All right, all right! That’s enough.” As a group, we all turned our focus to Dale, who stood with his arm up, his pistol in hand.
“Now look. You just – just back up. Everybody.” He gave a sharp little ‘back up’ wave with the gun.
He’d gotten their attention, I saw with immense relief.
“Now, I don’t know what’s going on here –”
“Seriously?” Viv said. “Can’t you tell a cockfight when you see one?”
“It’s not a cockfight,” Sunglasses said. “We’re out here fishing.”
I kept my face carefully blank, but the absence of a single fishing pole was pretty obvious. Plus, there was the dead rooster.
Sunglasses looked at Bandana. “Dude, I cannot go back to jail. You told me I would not go back to jail.”
“You’re not going back to jail!” Bandana said. “We haven’t done a damn thing but come out here fishing. I got a fishing license.” He cocked his head at me, his jaw set in a challenge. “You wanna see my fishing license, sweet thing?” He took another step toward me.
“She does not want to see your fishing license!” Dale shrieked, his eyes bugged out. “Now, back up!” He waved the gun again and everybody backed up, including Macon and Bandana.
Bandana held his hands up, his eyes focused on the gun.
“Now we’re gonna leave. And nobody’s gonna follow us.” He turned to address the crowd. “We’re gonna leave.”
Bandana put his hands down. “Dude. Is that a plastic gun?” He moved toward Dale.
Dale panicked. He lowered the gun and leveled it at Bandana. Well, kind of level. The gun swerved wildly in Bandana’s general direction.
As if on cue, Bandana, Macon, Sunglasses and Cowboy Hat took another step toward Dale.
Dale spasmed and the gun went off with a pop.
Bandana jerked in response, but the bullet missed him entirely.
It ricocheted off the pickup behind us, where Rambo’s cage was. Apparently it ricocheted off a few things, because here’s what the next second sounded like:
Ping. Ping. Ping. Squawk.
The entire clearing froze. Then Bandana ran the two quick steps to the back of the pickup.
“Rambo!!”
Viv, Dale and I looked at each other.
At the same instant, we ran.
We’d snuck in as lightly as we could, but now we ran full out. I hugged Stump to me and ran like my life depended on it, trampling through the dried mesquite beans like a one-woman cattle stampede.
“Run!” Dale kept shouting. “Run! Run!”
“Would you shut up!” Viv shouted back.
I couldn’t shout anything, because I couldn’t breathe. I could hear the thunder of a thousand mesquite beans being crushed at the same time but I wasn’t sure if it was from the crowd pursuing us, or just the three of us.
Jeez-O-Peet, the car was a long way away. Stump grunted and I realized I was squeezing her tight, but I couldn’t even make my body loosen my grip. My legs felt like tree trunks and I felt much too slow. I could feel the grip of the angry mob right behind me, ready to snatch me by the shirt and yank me off my feet. Looking back would take too long, so I tried to concentrate on running faster.
Finally, I could see the car ahead. Only then could I work up the courage to look back and see how close our pursuers were.
Bandana was right behind me.
I wish I was one of those people who had lightning quick reflexes. I was more the freeze-in-terror type, which was what I did. I looked at those mirrored sunglasses and froze right where I was.
Reflexively, I tightened my grip on Stump, which caused her to emit another burp. The stench wafted out and straight at Bandana.
He drew his head back, looking simultaneously confused and horrified. “What...?” he said. Then is feet tangled together and he thudded to the ground.
“Come on!” Viv shouted. She had reached the car and yanked the door open.
I ran the next few yards, pulled open the door, and threw me and Stump into the back seat.
We were bouncing across the dirt road before I even had the door shut.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.” Dale kept saying.
Viv just kept the pedal to the metal and roared down the road.
We were maybe a mile down the road when my mind finally accepted that we were going to get away.
“I killed Rambo,” Dale said. He sounded sad.
Bandana’s anguished cry of “Rambo!!” rang through my head. Then I remembered him tripping clumsily over his feet and falling to the ground.
I hooted with laughter.
Dale and Viv both turned to look over their shoulders, confused. That made me laugh harder.
They both faced front, and we thundered down dirt roads while I tried to stop laughing. It took a really long time.
Six
“We need to go back to the police station,” Viv said.
Dale looked at her like she was crazy. “Why?”
“Hello? Organized crime. We have proof that a well-known person in the community was engaged in crime. They’re going to want this,” Viv said.
“Then let them find it. We don’t need to do their work for them.” Dale looked like he wanted to go pull some covers over his head and stay put for a few years. “I can’t believe you sent us on a wild goose chase.” He turned in his seat to glare at me. “Those guys were gonna kill us.”
“Me? You thought Macon was a lead, too. We all three thought he was a lead.”
“You’re the one tailing him. You’re the one telling him – ” He stopped, cocking his head. “Why did he think I was your husband?”
Time to redirect, I thought. “Are we really going to the police station, Viv? What makes you t
hink Bobby’s going to listen to us now?”
“I have proof!” Viv lifted her cell phone. “I was recording the entire time. I have faces, vehicles with license plates, the whole thing.”
“None of it has anything to do with CJ Hardin, though.”
“But it’s a bargaining tool,” Viv said. “We offer to give them a nice newsworthy bust, and they give us some information on the Hardin case in return. Tit for tat. Police departments and PIs work together like this all the time. I saw it on Law and Order.”
I wasn’t sure that made any difference, but I did like the idea of having something of value to show Bobby. Plus, after he made me scared by his “witnesses turn into the best suspects” remark, I had been too freaked out to give him a hard time about the PDDL thing.
We must have looked a bit bedraggled, because he actually looked concerned when we came back to his office.
I noticed for the first time that Viv’s blouse was torn and her pants were sagging off her bony legs. Dale’s hair was all mussed, and somewhere along the way I had come across some mud, because a clump of it fell off my shoe and onto Bobby’s office floor when we sat down.
“We’ve just been out rounding up a very nice gift for you,” Viv said. She smiled smugly at him and folded her hands on top of her purse.
Bobby leaned back in his chair. “Is that so?”
Viv nodded nonchalantly. “You’re going to want this. Believe me.”
“But first,” I said. “We want an apology for the PDDL wild goose chase.”
“Holy cow, did that actually work?” Bobby laughed and clapped his hands. “That’s fantastic. Fantastic!”
I tried to shoot laser beams out of my eyes. If I could have gone back in time and spoken to my fourth-grade self, I would have strongly suggested putting dog poop in Bobby’s old Firebird instead of love notes.
“You’re going to wish in a few minutes that you had taken us more seriously. Because if you don’t start playing ball with us, you’re going to miss out on a very big, very gratifying bust.”
Bobby just laughed harder.
“I mean it. The news is going to be all over this. It’s one of those crimes that get a lot of attention.”
“These hits just keep on coming,” Bobby said cheerfully. “What else have you got.”
Viv clammed up. I took my cue from her. Mostly because if I spoke to Bobby, the only thing that was going to come out of my mouth were potty words.
Bobby’s laughter tapered off, but his grin didn’t fade. “What does this have to do with CJ Hardin?”
“Not a thing.” Viv smiled and blinked prettily.
I had to hand it to her. She looked like someone who had a winning hand.
Bobby leaned back in his chair, crossing his booted foot over his knee. He held one finger over his mouth like he was contemplating.
Viv sat with her hands folded primly over her phone, looking like she would be perfectly happy to wait all day.
They sat squared off like that for a few long beats. Finally, Bobby sighed and dropped his foot to the floor with a thud. He leaned over, his elbows on his knees. “You realize that if you have information on a crime and you withhold it, you’re an accessory after the fact.” He looked from Viv to me. “You have no cards here, girls.”
“I hope I even remember where we were,” Viv said. “Salem, do you remember where we were?”
“I do,” Dale piped up. “Remember? We left the radio station and headed south to the river.”
Viv sighed and threw up her hands. “You doofus. You just played two of our best cards.”
“He said you have no cards.”
“Have you ever played poker? People talk like that all the time. Smack talk. It means nothing.”
“It means something,” Bobby said. “You have no cards. Accessory after the fact.”
“I have proof!” Viv flung out her hand and almost threw the phone right at Bobby.
Dale looked chagrined, then frowned at me. “It’s her fault.” He jerked his thumb toward me. “She tried to get me killed.”
“What?! They were coming after me, too!”
“That frigging rooster was a killer. And it was not my fault I shot him – ”
“Hold up,” Bobby said, rising. “Shot him? Shot who?”
“Rambo.”
Bobby’s mouth dropped. The silence in the room suddenly grew. He blinked a couple of times, and I could see the wheels turning behind his gorgeous blue eyes. Then almost like someone who had just been given oxygen after being deprived for three minutes – he took in a deep breath in, looked around, and raced to the door. “Reed!” He stopped someone walking down the hall. “Where’s Reed? Get him in here.”
Bobby dropped back down in his chair and started swiping at Viv’s phone. “How do I access the videos?”
“I’m sorry, I’m getting to be so forgetful,” Viv said stonily. “I don’t even remember.”
“That’s okay,” Bobby said. “I got it.”
A tall guy with red blonde hair and carrying a leather portfolio appeared in Bobby’s doorway. “What’s up?”
Bobby pointed at Dale. “You. Tell Reed what you did.” He held up Viv’s phone.
“I played our best two cards,” Dale said, with an expression straight out of one of those dog shaming pictures.
“No, about Rambo.”
“Oh, I killed Rambo,” Dale said, like an afterthought.
“Holy cow! Rambo the Rooster?” Reed asked, crossing the room to stand behind Bobby’s chair.
I settled back in my chair and shifted Stump on my lap. Viv and I frowned at each other. This was not going the way it was supposed to.
Bobby and Reed watched the video silently, waiting. I could hear the commotion of the crowd, our voices, low at first, then louder at the part Rambo got out of his cage, then a little quieter when Macon and his goons came out.
Finally, Bobby looked over to Viv. “When do we get to the part where Rambo gets it?”
“Just watch it,” Viv said. “It’s coming up.”
We heard Dale then, through the phone’s tiny speaker. “She does not want to see your fishing license!”
“You already passed it,” Viv said, leaning forward in her chair, eager to show her trophy despite herself. “Here, give it to me.”
Bobby and Reed, though, instead of looking interested, gave each other a resigned, peeved look.
“Give it to me!” Viv said, swiping a hand across the desk which Bobby dodged with ease. “I got it all, the license plates, the faces. I gave you a nice tidy bust all wrapped up with a bow. The least you could do is not act like an ass.”
Bobby silently turned the phone around and showed it to Viv.
I leaned over. All I saw on the screen was Viv, eyes wide and darting back and forth.
She had had the camera on selfie mode.
“Hang on,” she said irritably, swiping at the screen a few times. She went back to where she started recording and pushed Play.
The camera was about a foot over Viv’s head, and swung wildly as she turned it this way and that, always exactly opposite of what she was trying to record. A few times I saw her expensive pumps as she tiptoed through dried grass and mesquite beans.
“You trying to steal my rooster?” I heard Bandana say, and remembered that moment when my blood ran cold.
On the screen, Viv’s mouth dropped and her eyes bugged. The camera shifted, a shoulder or the back of a head occasionally appearing in view behind her, but not enough to identify anyone.
“Dude. Is that a plastic gun?”
Ping. Ping. Ping. Squawk.
Granted, Viv’s face did tell a story. Wide-eyed fear as the crowd had moved toward us. A chin lifted in challenge at the moment Dale had pulled the gun. Fierce irritation when the non-lethal status of the gun was revealed. She ducked when the shot went off, then looked wildly from me to Dale. The rest was a blur of dried grass and flashing boots, with Dale screaming “Run! Run! Run!”
Unfortunately,
it was not a story that was going to get Bobby any busts at all.
Reed and Bobby gave each other another look. Reed said, “I’ll be in my office.”
Bobby stared at his desk, his hand still over his mouth.
Finally, he stood and said, “Y’all wait here.”
One time, my “friends” got me one of those trick lottery tickets for a birthday present. I thought I’d won ten grand. I danced around the birthday party, laughing and talking about all the things I was going to do and buy with my $10,000. They let me go on for a good fifteen minutes before they showed me that it was a joke. Then they laughed and danced around at my foolishness.
I felt kind of like that at the moment. I wasn’t as excited about giving Bobby a bust as I had been about that money, but I did feel about as dumb.
Somewhat inexplicably, two of those friends ended up with slashed tires within the next month, and another one found a pretty pair of red lace underwear in the glove compartment of her boyfriend’s car. Being a cop and all, nothing like that was going to happen to Bobby. But my mind sure did burn with ideas of revenge just then.
I turned in my chair and looked out the door Bobby had just left through. I leaned over and whispered to Viv. “You and Dale talk to each other so they can hear you. I’m going to sneak out.”
I started to hand Stump over to Viv, but she and I came to the realization at the same time: if I left without Stump, she would let out a howl that would bring a hundred cops with guns drawn.
So I hitched her against my hip and tiptoed down the hall.
I slid along the wall toward the back of the building, listening for Bobby or Reed. I was approaching one open door on the side of the hall where I stood, and another one a few feet down. I took another step, listening as hard as I could. I leaned over to peek, and there they were, in Reed’s office.
I jerked my head back out of sight, but I needn’t have bothered. They couldn’t see a thing. Reed was leaned back in his chair, one hand over his eyes, laughing so hard his face was red and tears streamed down his cheeks. Bobby leaned over, one hand on the desk, his head turned toward Reed, shoulders shaking, his knees bent as if he was about to fall over.
Oh, the pig! I darted to that side of the hall and plastered myself against the wall, scooching down so I could hear.
Unsightly Bulges Page 16