by Jake Hinkson
"What happened when you finally talked to Evan and Kluge?"
"I never talked to Mr. Kluge. Just Evan. He told me to keep my mouth shut and they'd take care of me. So I did. I kept my mouth shut, and all the sudden the charges were reduced. Not dropped, though. I ended up doing a little time on a lesser charge."
"But then you got out of Eastgate and what? If you did what they told you to do, why is there a problem?"
She stopped rubbing the cat. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face. She glanced at Jack.
She tried to smile at both of us. "It's all a big misunderstanding," she said. "I went down to Texas when my mom died. I came back, and I got involved in the church."
"In the church."
"Well, not church, but that Christian recovery program, Free At Last. I got involved with it to stay off drugs and try to get closer to … God."
"That's where you met Charles Hamill."
"Yeah."
"What about Jerry Kingston? You meet him, too?"
"Yeah."
I looked back at Jack. She didn't look at me; she just kept staring at Alexis.
Alexis said, "They got me clean, but then I got … I just wanted to get away from them."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I just did. It's hard for me. It's hard for me to stay anywhere a long time. I just wanted to get away."
"What about getting close to God?" Jack asked.
"I didn't run away from God," Alexis said.
I said, "But that still doesn't explain why these people are looking for you."
She shook her head and her face flushed. I thought she might start crying. "I think Junius thinks I was giving information to … Brother Jerry, to help him with the election against the governor."
"So why did Charles Hamill pay me to find you?"
"I guess it's like he told you. Brother Jerry is just worried about me. He asked Brother Charles to find me."
That didn't seem like the whole story, but she didn't say any more.
"Why don't you just talk to Kluge?" I said.
Alexis looked at me like I was the stupid one. "He's paying you five grand," she said. "You think he's going to drop five grand just to have a conversation with me?"
"She right," Jack said.
I turned around, and she'd come off the door and was standing with her fists at her sides. "It's too late for talking this thing through. Junius thinks she gonna rat out the governor's coke connection and the whole drug operation up in Stock's Settlement. That ain't the kind of shit gets settled with a conversation."
I asked Alexis, "But you never told Kingston or any of his people about the drugs, about why you'd gone to jail, none of that?"
She'd turned her attention back to the cat. "It's like Jack said," she whispered. "It's too late, either way."
* * *
"Well?" Jack asked.
"Well what?"
We were standing in front of Darnell's barn. We'd waded through the Arkansas heat just enough to stand in the pointed shadow of the roof.
"You believe this story that it's all a big misunderstanding?"
"Who knows?"
"Whatchoo thinking about doing?"
I took a deep breath of humidity.
"You really think they'd kill her?"
Jack kicked a small rock about six inches. "Dunno. Maybe just rough her up."
I shook my head. "Would you want to be in a dark room alone with Vin Colfax?"
"Nope."
"No, me neither."
"This some serious shit, Ellie. Junius Kluge paid you. You just going to hand him back his money and tell him it didn't work out?"
"I need that money."
"So you want to give her to them?"
"I can't just hand her over, Jack. There's no telling what they'll do to her."
"Yeah. That's what I thought. So what you talking about is scamming the baddest motherfucker in the state because that dumbass in there can't handle her own business."
"They'll beat her up. And if what she's saying is true—if she's telling the truth about some South American drug cartel flying drugs up to Stock's Settlement—then there's no reason to think they wouldn't kill her."
"No reason to think they wouldn't kill me, neither, if they found out I hid her," Jack said. "And this man in here"—she jerked her thumb at the barn—"will kick her ass out as soon as he knows what's up. We got to keep him out of it. Darnell's a nice guy and all, but he'll get on the phone as soon as he knows that Kluge involved. Being a nice guy don't cover that much trouble."
"We need to get her out of here. And we need to make it look like she left to go somewhere else."
"We?"
"It's either that or we hand her over, Jack. I didn't get you involved in this. She did. You gotta deal with this the way you see fit. But think about this, if they get her and they start beating on her, they're going to find out you helped hide her out. Who knows how they'll deal with you?"
She rubbed her face. "You know what you asking me to do?"
"Yeah."
"Awful serious thing to ask."
"I sound like I'm asking to borrow a cup of sugar? I know it's serious."
She stepped into the light and put her face up to the sky, feeling the sun on her skin. I know she was just thinking things over, but for a moment she looked like she was praying.
"So are we going to do this?" I asked.
Finally she said, "Sure. What's the point in getting old?"
CHAPTER TEN
That night as we followed the Greyhound down to Texas, I had a premonition of doom.
I'm not given to dark thoughts. Life is hard enough without obsessing over the every potential pitfall. I'm not an optimist, exactly—I just think you have to make the best plan you can and then deal with problems as they arise. Most situations, if you break them down to their component parts, can be managed.
But as Jack and I drove that night—letting the Greyhound stay far in front of us so that no one would notice that we had followed it from Osotouy City—I had a sick feeling that I was making a huge mistake. Like I'd forgotten something. Like I'd made some error that was going to get us caught.
Jack rode in silence next to me. She sat up straight, with both hands on the wheel, like she was taking a driving test. She didn't play the radio or initiate a conversation. She kept her own counsel.
But I ran it in my mind, over and over, to see if I'd missed anything.
We had created a cover story. First, we had Alexis call Mule to tell him that she was leaving town. Jack suggested we have her call Evan, but I didn't think anyone would believe that she would call him. Evan was too dangerous, too tied into this mess. It made more sense for her to call Mule. People would be more likely to believe that she was stupid enough to call him. And we knew we could trust the little weasel to turn around and sell her out as soon as he could.
Jack's contribution to this part of the plan was to have Alexis ask him for money. Nice touch.
We stood on either side of her as she called him using a prepaid card from a payphone at the bus station. "I just wanted to tell you I'm leaving," she told him. She closed her eyes, zeroing in on her performance like some kind of redneck Meryl Streep. She nodded as he said something. "I know," she told him. "I know I did. You were always good to me. You were. You were always good." She nodded. "I know. I fucked up. I did." She shook her head. "No. I just think I need to leave. There's too much going on, and I'm scared." She nodded. "Sure, he's part of it. But you know Evan, he's a fucking selfish prick. He'll always look out for number one." She listened for a long while. "I know. I know, you told me that. You were right. You were right, Mule." She listened again. We could hear the low murmur of his voice on the other end, no distinct words, just the unmistakable tone of petty self-satisfaction. Finally he stopped and Alexis said, "Look, I should go. I got to catch the 6:50 bus. I just wanted to say goodbye." He said something, she waited a beat and then she dropped the hammer. "Listen, I know I don't deserve anything
from you, and I hate to ask, but I was wondering if I could maybe borrow a little money. Just enough to—" As he started to yell, she smiled to herself. She listened for a while and said, "Look, you think this is easy for me? I know what all you've done for me. But I'm down to my last few bucks, and I have Kaylee to think about. What do you want me to do? This is my last phone card and—" She stopped and let him yell. Then she said, "You know what, Mule, you're a fucking asshole. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. That's right. Oh sure, call me a fucking cunt. Go ahead. That's all you know how to say, you pathetic junkie asshole. I hope you fucking overdose."
She hung up and opened her eyes. "Well, that was fun. Can we call all my old boyfriends?"
The second part of the plan was to actually get her on the Greyhound. She and Kaylee loaded onto the 6:50 for Fort Worth. The bus made a stop in Texarkana, and we hoped that even if Mule turned right around and called Junius Kluge or one of his people that they couldn't get someone to Texarkana in time to grab her.
This was the risky part, of course. Maybe Kluge had a guy in Texarkana already. Or maybe he'd just call one of his pals on the state troopers. The risk was part of the plan, though. The risk was what sold the story. It looked messy and stupid.
Besides, I kept telling myself, Mule would wait. He'd think it over. We'd made a point of telling Alexis not to tell him where she was going. We'd let him figure it out. He'd assume it was Texas, but maybe he'd take the time to check the schedules. That process could take sixty seconds, of course, but it could also take longer. He had a cell but Alexis said he'd hocked his smart phone for cash a long time ago, so he couldn't just look it up. He'd have to find the number of the station and make a phone call, or he'd have to track down a computer and check it that way. Only then would he call Evan, or someone like Evan, who was willing to offer him some cash to find out about Alexis. Maybe he'd arrange a meeting rather than doing it over the phone. Maybe he'd take a break to get drunk or shoot up and zone out for a few hours.
Or maybe he'd immediately call Kluge. Maybe Kluge's people were already waiting for her at the station.
I took a deep breath.
Jack said, "You worrying over there?"
"I got some shit on my mind, yeah. You?"
"I got some shit on my mind."
I leaned back in the plush seat. "Nice ride," I said.
"I like it."
I didn't know what else to say.
Jack said it for me. "If this thing goes wrong, there gonna be hell to pay. I ain't sure Alexis got the right stuff."
"She handled Mule."
"Mule a junkie. Get a junkie to believe anything, you tell it right."
"That's my point, she told it right."
The lamplights along I-30 swept over the hood of her truck and flickered on Jack's face. She grimaced. "I ain't really talking about Alexis, Ellie. I'm talking about me and you and what's gonna happen if Alexis fucks up, which she likely to do. You need to get your mind around that."
"I don't know what that means."
"No, well, you better find out."
"Why don't you tell me, if you're so fucking smart?"
"You don't need to start busting out no tone of voice on me, Ellie. I ain't your teacher. I ain't here to educate you. But maybe I'm being a little more realistic about this than you are. We gonna pick up this girl and her child in Texarkana when they get off the bus, and then we gonna take them to West Memphis to meet her cousin. Okay. Then what?"
"Then … we … then we wait and hope the story sticks. At that point, we're out of it."
The words sounded silly coming out of my mouth. We had to hope that Alexis would leave the state and never come back and not doing anything stupid to draw attention to herself. Maybe once the election was over, the heat around her would die down.
But the point Jack was making was that the plan hinged on two things: Alexis and a lot of luck—neither of which we could really count on.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay what?"
"Okay, you're right, but I'll damned if I know what else we can do."
* * *
The bus had a scheduled twenty minute stop in Texarkana. The plan was for Alexis and Kaylee to get off the bus with the other passengers, stretch their legs, and then slip away unnoticed.
When the bus was still fifteen minutes outside of Texarkana, Jack shot ahead of it so we could get there a little early and scope things out. The small Greyhound station was located just off I-30, next to a Super 8 and an IHOP. Jack pulled into the parking lot of the IHOP and pointed us toward a large empty field separating the restaurant from the station.
I scanned the parking lot of the IHOP. A couple of trucks, one car. Through the windows of the restaurant, I saw a table of teenagers laughing and eating. At another table one guy sipped coffee by himself.
The bus station shared a parking lot with the Super 8. Lots of cars and trucks and a couple of minivans. The front of the station was all glass. Through it, I could see a young woman working the front counter, talking on a phone pinched between her ear and her shoulder as she typed on a computer.
"I'm going to get out," I said.
"And do what?"
I shrugged and got out of the truck. The air was warm and heavy. I walked around the field, watching the parking lot the whole time.
A young couple got out of a minivan and started unloading kids and luggage. By the door of the motel, a middle-aged man in a cowboy shirt, jeans, boots and a hat stood talking on a cell phone. He was stocky, maybe fifty years old. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the parking lot.
The father at the minivan pulled out a sleeping child and held her with one arm while he dragged a rolling suitcase with his free hand. His haggard-looking wife corralled a rambunctious little boy and slung a couple of bags over her shoulder. Together they trudged toward the motel lobby.
The cowboy on the cell phone watched me cross the field.
Two beams of light swung across the field as the bus pulled into the parking lot. As it came to a stop, its red taillights bathed the field in red. I stepped into a muddy patch and had to yank out my shoe to break free of the suction. The bus cut its lights and the field went dark again.
I hurried across the grass, slinging mud as I walked. As I did, a white SUV marked TEXARKANA POLICE pulled into the parking lot. A uniformed officer got out of the SUV, opened the back door and let out a German Shepherd.
I came to the edge of the parking lot.
The cowboy with the cell phone ended his call and clipped the phone back onto his belt. For a second, his attention shifted from me to the K-9 unit.
The cop with the dog was a huge man with a shaved head. He wore all black and had a gun on his hip. He strode up to the door of the bus as it opened.
"Evening," I heard him tell the driver as I walked toward the motel. "Gonna do a routine check of the luggage compartment. Please keep your passengers inside the vehicle."
I got to the door of the motel and paused to watch the proceedings, straining to appear as if I was casually interested in what was happening.
The cowboy by the motel door had a roadmap of blood vessels webbing across his thick ball of a nose. He fixed his beady black eyes on me and said, "Stepped in some mud there, girl."
"Reckon so," I said. I jerked a thumb at the bus. "What all do you think is happening there?"
The cowboy hitched his thumb on a big silver belt buckle with a little Confederate flag in the center. "Searching for drugs, mostly likely." He shrugged. "Gives the local po-po something to do, try to catch the drugs before they get to Texas."
I watched the dog sniff at the bus's storage hold. The cop holding the dog's leash glanced over at us.
The cowboy told me, "They found a big shipment a year ago."
"That a fact?"
"Yes, ma'am," the cowboy said. "A whole heap of mare-i-jew-wanna. Somewheres in the neighborhood of a hundred thousand dollars' worth. Made all the news."
"Is that a fact?"
"I shit you not. Some
dude with a hundred pounds of whacky tobacky crammed into a couple of suitcases."
The dog stopped at one of the storage holds and gave it extra attention.
"A hundred pounds?" I said. "Now, why'd he think he could get away with that?"
"Dunno," the cowboy said. "He's just eat up with the dumbass, I reckon."
The dog stopped sniffing and backed away from the bus. The officer walked back up to the front and waved at the driver. "All clear," he said.
The driver—a short man with charcoal-black skin and chalk-white hair—got off the bus grumbling about the delay. "What's the use in keeping a damn schedule," he groused as he walked into the bus station.
The girl at the counter was still on the phone, but she gave him a little wave.
People got off the bus. Two guys in their twenties. A middle-aged couple. A tall kid with headphones.
The cop took the dog back to the SUV and opened the door. The dog leapt inside.
The cowboy said, "Well, now that the show's over, how about we talk about me and you."
I said, "Maybe some other night, cowboy. Getting a little late for me."
"Late? Ain't but ten thirty."
"Little late for me."
More people getting off the bus. A redhead in her fifties. Another guy in his twenties. A kid, no more than eighteen, yawning and stretching.
"Aw, it ain't late, darlin'. You got to live a little, burn tomorrow's candles tonight. I'm the right feller to do it with, too."
"Some other time."
Another guy. Then another. Finally Alexis and Kaylee. They were accompanied by a young man, or at least he was talking to Alexis. She nodded politely and scanned the parking lot.
"You know," the cowboy said, "you keep saying 'no' but something tells me that—"
I turned to him. "You're mistaking my politeness for indecision, so let me shoot you straight, cowboy. I think you're gross. Now scoot the fuck on out of here."
He stared at me for a moment before he nodded, mustered his dignity enough to tip his hat, and walked back into the motel.
The young man followed Alexis and Kaylee into the bus station. Passengers were buying Cokes and candies from vending machines.