Suddenly Erika yelled, “Watch out, Vivian.” The Safari had drifted out of its lane. Vivian quickly jerked it back in.
Dell rose from his stool and moved forward. “You alright?”
“I’m fine, baby,” Vivian said. “I’m sorry. Maybe getting just a teensy bit high.”
At that moment, a sign appeared through the wraparound windshield: OLD CIMARRON TRAIL R.V. PARK - 5 MILES
“Oh look, isn’t that the same place we stayed last year and then you drove in for that trial the next day?” Vivian asked.
“Might not be a bad idea to stop there now,” Dell said. “I’m pretty out of it, too. Then we can hit the city fresh tomorrow.”
Vivian looked relieved at the suggestion. “Good idea.” Then she turned to Erika. “Sorry we won’t make it all the way into town, but you’re welcome to stay and party with us.”
“I’ve got to go to work early,” Erika said.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Vivian assured her. “We’ll be heading in at the crack of dawn.”
The sound of helicopter blades cut through the night sky. A searchlight swept over the Safari and the thickets of trees on either side of the highway.
Dell peered up at it, unperturbed. “Looks like the cops are looking for somebody.”
“Oh honey,” Vivian joked. “What did you do?”
Chapter 27
As the customers at the Crazy Horse Saloon watched, Wrangler was making his move on Angie, who was barely cognizant of what was going on. He had one hand inside her blouse and was kissing her neck.
The bartender finally moved down the bar to them and spoke quietly. “Look, I’m real happy for you, but why don’t you take this someplace else?”
Wrangler nodded an I’ll take care of it look and whispered to Angie. “Hey, we need to go somewhere else. I got a hard on that ain’t goin’ away and people are startin’ to stare.”
Through inebriated layers of pain, Angie looked at him. “He’s got someone else. That’s it. The sonuvabitch. He’s fucking her.”
He nodded patiently. “Okay. Look at it this way. He’s fuckin’ her, so you can fuck me.”
Suddenly Angie sat straight up, like she’d just emerged from a blackout, or gotten a strong second wind. She stared at a wall of framed 8X10’s, then hollered for the bartender who’d moved down to some other customers.
He came back to her and started kindly. “Now, lady—”
Angie interrupted. “Has that prick quarterback been in here tonight?”
The bartender patiently pointed to a celebrity wall filled with former Sooner players. “Which one you mean?”
Angie wobbled over to the wall. There was Buck’s dusty autographed picture. She started to cry.
Wrangler followed, trying to comfort her. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, gamely giving it one last try. “I’m cowboy enough to take on a dozen Sooners.”
Angie pushed him away. She was glaring at Buck’s face in the frame. Then she slammed her fist into it. Blood spurted down the front of her blouse.
Wrangler automatically charged toward her to help, but she turned on him, martini glass still in the other hand and pushed it in his face.
“Why, you…” He took a drunken swing at her, barely connecting. “I should’ve knew you were low class pussy when I first laid eyes on you.”
Before the bartender could get to them, Angie was trying to jump on Wrangler’s back, kicking and gouging at him.
“Jesus,” the bartender begged to anyone who would listen, “will someone grab her? A hand here, please?”
Chapter 28
Jorge carefully spread a plastic drop cloth across the SUV’s back seat. He looked up at Twigs who’d come out for a cigarette while Meatface was getting Buck ready for transport.
“What are you doing?” Twigs asked.
“I don’t wanna have to clean up the SUV again after we’re done. Guy’s bleedin’ like a stuck pig in there.”
“That’s under control. And I gave him some meds so he won’t care,” Twigs said, studying him. “What’s the matter with you anyway?” She moved close and touched his face.
“Fuckin’ tooth swoll up on me again.”
“I can see that. You pussy, go to the dentist and stop whining. Why do you think I give you benefits?”
“I was, but I got called in for a job, remember?” He looked at her pointedly. “Besides, shit always happens on Friday.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” She gave him a little feel just to show him she meant it. “Take care of yourself, huh? I don’t want to lose my fuck buddy.”
Then Meatface called low from the doorway. “Jorge, get over here and help me.” Jorge hustled back to help him get Buck to the car. They’d left his hood off, but Buck could barely manage even a Thorazine shuffle. His right hand was freshly bandaged, but blood was still slipping through. It had been a small victory for Buck. They’d taken his pinkie and not his thumb.
They all piled in and Twigs studied Buck a moment. “Looks like he’s feeling no pain.”
Meatface poked at Buck. “Hey, the lady’s asking how you feel.”
Buck managed a nod.
Twigs grinned. “Alrighty then, let’s go get our money.”
Chapter 29
The Safari was fully hooked up in a premium spot at the Cimarron Trail, conveniently without close-by neighbors. The Porsche had been unloaded so Vivian and Erika could run to a truck stop a few miles ahead. The men weren’t really interested.
Inside, Dell prepared more lines of cocaine as he and Tony talked.
“Sure the rich just get richer,” Dell was saying. “But it’s a capitalist society, buddy. That’s the way it works.”
“That doesn’t make it right, man,” Tony countered. “Some people never get a chance. It’s like they were born with one hand tied behind their back.”
“So? You’re an investor. What do you care? You’ve certainly benefitted from the system.”
Tony, remembering who he was pretending to be, changed his tune. “Oh, well, me, sure. But…”
“You ever gotten into horses?” Dell asked.
“I like quarter horse racing.”
“Absolutely. Viv and I love horses. We have some Appaloosa’s on our ranch in New Mexico.” He pushed the tile and the rolled up 100-dollar bill toward Tony.
Dell waited for Tony to get his rush before he continued, his tone becoming a little more precise, intimate. “You and your girl seem like…pretty free spirits. No hangups.”
Tony looked up at him. “I guess. Why?”
“Oh, just…it gets a little dull, you know, after years with the same person. Viv and I like to spice things up occasionally…if you know what I mean.”
There was a long moment between them. Tony permitted a smile to play on his lips. It did surprise him that they were swingers. He played confused. “You mean, like a swap?” He dropped his eyes to the remaining lines of cocaine.
Dell motioned to them. “Go ahead, help yourself. I’ve got more.” He watched as Tony snorted Dell’s lines as well, then continued casually. “Not a swap, exactly. More like a three way.”
Tony’s look was noncommital. Dell continued, assuming he was holding out.
“Of course, you could watch if that’s your thing.” He nodded at the hundred dollar bill still rolled up in Tony’s fingers. “And that little C-note you’ve been snorting through would be yours, too.”
Outside, the sound of the Porsche pulling in stopped them.
A moment later, Erika came inside with Vivian, who tossed the keys on the dashboard.
“You were right,” Vivian said to Dell. “That truckstop food section didn’t have limes, but they did have this.” She held up a bottle of RealLime. “Ta da. Margaritas, here we come.”
“What’s all the rest of that?” Dell asked.
“She bought a bunch of stuff for me,” Erika explained. “I’m not sure why.”
“To cheer you up, sweetie,” Viv said. “You’re just too sad tonight. That shade of
eye color is going to be perfect for you. Here, let me put it on right now.” She started to apply the makeup.
“How’s your Dr. Pepper?” Viv asked her, then winked at Dell. “We got her a big soda at the truck stop.”
“It’s fine,” Erika said. “I like the ice.”
Chapter 30
The dark SUV glided down the nearly deserted Exchange Avenue as it neared the bank. Ahead of them, flashing lights from a couple of squad cars got everyone’s attention.
“Damn, a bunch of cops,” Jorge said.
Twigs’ voice was low, reassuring. “It’s okay. Just drive like you have a hostage in the car.”
This confused Jorge. “You mean—what do you mean? Drive slow?”
Twigs patted his arm. “No, sweetie, drive legal.”
“Good one,” Meatface laughed from the back. “Windows are tinted, anyway. We’re fine.” For good measure, he gripped Buck’s arm. “Don’t even think of doing anything.”
“I won’t,” Buck said. He wasn’t sure he could even hold his head up. He had been so out of it, he didn’t know what all Twigs had given him.
As they passed by the Crazy Horse Saloon, onlookers were gawking as Angie Wesner was being handcuffed and led to a squad car. She was still plastered, but the fight and excitement seemed to have let a hard dose of reality creep in.
Buck managed to look up just as red lights flickered across Angie’s face. He thought he might be hallucinating. He tried to turn around to see her, but Meatface squeezed his arm until it hurt. “Eyes straight ahead, Budro.”
A few feet away, Wrangler was sitting in the second squad car, pounding on his window. “You low life prick tease,” he was screaming at Angie.
The cops were all shaking their heads and trying not to smile. Just another Friday night in Cowtown.
A few blocks later, safely out of sight of the cops, the SUV hooked a U-turn and glided to a stop at the northwest corner of Cattlemen’s Bank. An enormous elm tree umbrella’d them, its branches throwing patterns of moonlight on the four faces inside.
“Now what?” Jorge asked.
“Now we wait,” Twigs said. She bent down so she could look up through the windshield at the looming dark bank building. She checked her watch. “If Bucko here is right, it shouldn’t be more than a half hour.”
A few minutes later, red and blue lights flashed on their faces as the squad cars from the bar moved their way, hauling their prisoners to lockup. Everyone instinctively sunk lower in their seats. Except for Buck, who came more alert, twisting his head to try and see inside the cruisers.
And sure enough, there she was, looking sullenly out the side window as the police car moved slowly past them. Although she couldn’t see inside the SUV’s tinted windows, it was uncanny how she seemed to be staring right back at Buck.
He leaned forward, but Meatface gripped his shoulder, pulling him back down. “Don’t you fuckin’ look at them,” he warned with a repeat of his Blue Velvet schtick.
He had no idea how much time had passed when a pale beam of light could be seen moving along the row of windows. Twigs checked her watch and snapped her fingers at Buck. “That him?”
Buck looked up at the bobbing flashlight on the second floor. “That’s him.”
“So after he finishes his rounds, we’ve got one and a half, maybe two hours. Right, Boobie?”
Buck nodded, but Twigs jumped on him. “Hey, speak up. It’s fucking dark. I can’t see your head moving.”
“Two, right,” Buck slurred.
“So set your watches, everybody,” Twigs instructed.
Chapter 31
Hooked up to enormous, humming generators, halogen lights bathed the countryside area, now cordoned off by yellow Crime Scene ribbons. They stretched around Candy’s dead horse and a large area of land surrounding the hill. Uniformed officers were crawling the area, setting up plaster molds for tire tracks, checking for anything, even debris, that might provide some clues.
Standing on the dirt road, Mickey Mullin, his face puffy from crying, talked with James Edgars, whose cowboy hat, jeans, and leather jacket didn’t suggest a Homicide Detective, which was his rank.
In his late 30’s, Edgars had climbed the law enforcement ladder quickly. He proved to be not only bright, with good instincts, but thrived on soaking up information from everybody he was around. He’d handled plenty of major cases, but this was his first involving a celebrity.
Edgars knew he needed to reassure the shaken boy. “Now, Mickey, remember, the fact that I’m Homicide does not mean we expect your girlfriend to die.”
“But she could. They said as much.” Mickey started to cry again.
“Who’s they?” Edgars asked.
“Her family’s talked to the doctors. They called me from the hospital.”
“But she’s still alive. Let’s try to concentrate on that, alright? I’m going to let you go see her as soon as we finish. But I need you to tell me what happened first, while it’s fresh in your mind, understand?”
For the next twenty minutes, Edgars used his phone app to record Mickey going through the events.
“We were racing and yelling at each other. And the sound of the horses…I should have heard the loud music, though,” Mickey said. “If I’d been more…hollered at her sooner.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. No one thinks you should have realized what was about to happen. How could you?” Edgars said.
Mickey gave him everything he could remember, including a description of the Mustang and its unique license tag. After a few minutes, Edgars could see the kid was too traumatized to offer much more.
“Here’s my card, Mickey. We’re done for now, but call me if you remember anything else. No matter how trite it may seem to you.”
“Thank you.”
“I know you need to go be with her. We’ll talk again.”
Edgars took down Mickey’s cell number and gave him a card with his number at the police station and his personal cell.
“Have you got someone to drive you to the hospital?”
“My parents,” Mickey said, motioning to a car parked outside of the crime scene ribbon, where his father and mother stood, waiting for him.
“Okay, I’ll call if there’s anything else,” Edgars said.
Mickey ran to his parents, where they hugged one another in a circle and cried for a few moments before getting in the car and taking off.
Edgars felt for the kid. He knew Mickey would take the vision of her sailing off that horse to his grave. A veteran of Iraq, Edgars knew all too well how impossible it was to erase the memories of twisted and shattered bodies. His buddies were bad enough, but the innocent children caught in the madness had nearly torn his heart out.
That’s why this case was already pulling at him. Candy Myers was just a down-to-earth kid. He’d seen “Miss Candy” do her stuff at the Lazy E Arena, cheered her on, thought she was one of finest riders to come along in an age. Now the doctors said she might not even live, much less ride again. And according to Mickey, it was some asshole racing his Mustang down the Myers’ driveway.
Edgars wanted this guy bad. His cell beeped. “Yeah, Edgars,” he said into the phone.
“It’s Horse. We just found the car.”
Edgars hoped that meant this would turn into a slam dunk.
Chapter 32
Erika was surprised how out of it she felt, looking at her newly made up face in Vivian’s dressing mirror in the bedroom. She had only had a couple of tokes and a glass of champagne.
Standing beside her, Vivian squeezed her hand. “You are one of the greatest natural beauties I’ve ever seen. You okay, Sweetie?”
Erika made a stab at politeness. “Oh, it looks great. But, I’m not feeling—I need to go to the bathroom.”
As Erika stepped back into the living area, she stumbled and nearly fell from dizziness. Tony looked up from the table where he and Dell were still sitting. “You’re so drunk you don’t even know what’s going on, do you?”
Dell gave him a cool it gesture with his hand. “She’s fine.”
Vivian grabbed her by the waist. “Here, honey, let me help. Dell, give me a hand.”
They both stood her up, each taking small liberties with touching her body. Dell turned and gave Tony a pointed look. Tony got the message, unrolled the C-note and put it in his pocket.
Vivian was saying, “Hey, Erika, want to try out that shower you liked so much?”
Erika slurred, “Yeah, it might sober me up.”
Dell was practically holding Erika up as Vivian guided them into the bedroom area.
“What about my clothes?” Erika said.
Vivian came up behind her, taking off her own top. “Here, hon, let me help you.”
Tony’s last glimpse before the bedroom door closed was Vivian in her bra, undressing Erika as she lay across the bed, and Dell taking off his shirt as he shut the door.
Tony sat for a moment, overcome by a sharp pang of guilt. What bothered him was the similarity to his prison days, when he’d been a pawn himself. Nobody understood how it worked inside. They thought it was about guys going queer. But it was just what happened there. It was the only way to get off. It was what it was, and when you got out, you went back to what you’d done before.
His first month in prison, Tony had been dragged into a cell where a 250-pound Aryan brother had pounded him for days. Tony was finally replaced with the latest newbie. But not before the Aryan brother had literally torn him a new one. The prison doctor had sent Tony in to the city where surgery repaired most of the damage, but nothing was quite the same again. His basic bodily functions were now filled with pain, for which there seemed to be no remedy.
Usually, Tony detached quickly from any sense of responsibility for anyone else. But he considered going in there and putting a stop to it.
Then he remembered Vivian dropping the Porsche keys on the dashboard. He didn’t let himself think about them anymore. He just snagged the key ring on his way out.
Chapter 33
Here Comes the Night Page 5