Quiver

by Peter Leonard

  Teddy looked at her and flashed a lunatic grin. “You know what we’re going to do.”

  Kate could see he got pleasure out of this-making them squirm. She glanced at Luke and then at Teddy. “You’re not going to do anything,” she said, trying to convince herself. She was afraid now, but smiled at Luke, trying to ease the tension.

  Celeste said, “I’d be worried if I were them.”

  “Don’t listen to that,” Jack said. “They’re just trying to scare you.”

  Teddy glanced over at Jack and said, “The fuck do you know?” Now he looked across the table at Kate and said, “He tell you what happen in Arizona?”

  Jack said, “That’s old news.”

  Teddy ignored him and said, “We hit A.J.’ s-this rich-folk gourmet market in the foothills of the Catalinas. Planned it for Sunday evening, get their take from the weekend. Do it with a lot of people around, we don’t attract attention. Me and him,” indicating DeJuan, “filled up carts like real shoppers.”

  He shoveled a forkful of beans in his mouth and kept talking.

  “The office was upstairs, so Jack and I go up and open the door and catch the manager fooling around with this young cute thing, had her blouse off, man pawing her sweater puppies. They both looked at us and manager says, ‘Can I help you?’ And Jack says, ‘Yeah, you can take your hands off her and show us the safe.’ The manager says, ‘Is this some kind of a joke?’ Jack pulls his Colt Python and says, ‘Does this look like a joke to you?’

  “Jack went in the other room and cleaned out the safe and I duct-taped the manager and the girl together and watched the door. After about ten minutes, I went to check on him, and he wasn’t there. Disappeared with $257,000. Left me standing there holding my dick. Pardon my French.”

  Teddy glanced across the room at Jack. “That sound about right to you?”

  What Teddy left out-the most important part-was the police showing up. Jack had cleaned out the safe, filled two A.J.’ s grocery bags, the kind with paper handles. Glanced out the window behind the store. There was a driveway for delivery trucks to pull up and beyond it a brick wall that bordered the employee parking lot. He watched two Tucson police cars cruise in at high speed, lights flashing, and hit their brakes.

  He crossed the room, went into the manager’s office. The manager and his half-clothed assistant were still on the couch, duct-taped together. He didn’t see Teddy at the door and he left the office and walked into the hallway. He heard the din: sounds and voices coming up the stairs from the market floor. He followed the

  hallway to the end, pushed open a steel door that had a sign that read: DO NOT OPEN ALARM WILL SOUND.

  It didn’t.

  And now he was running across the green metal roof of the strip mall over Starbucks, Target, Blockbuster, Subway, Home Depot. He hid behind a giant air-conditioning unit, catching his breath. He looked back, saw a cop in a tan uniform appear on the roof a hundred yards away, holding his gun with two hands, swinging his arms in a short jerking motion like cops on TV.

  Jack opened a roof hatch, slid his hands through the handles of the paper bags and climbed down a steel-rung ladder into the Home Depot stockroom. He saw boxes arranged on huge floor-to-ceiling shelves. He could see a guy driving a Hi-Lo across the room and walked in the opposite direction, went out a swinging door into the showroom with his two A.J.’ s grocery bags full of money and kept going.

  Jack walked four blocks to the Adobe Flats motel, checked in and poured the money on the queen-size bed and counted it. There was $166,000 (although A. J’s would later say it was $257,000 and that was the amount quoted in newspaper articles).

  He took a wad of bills and folded it and put it in his pocket and put the rest back in the bags. He stood on the bed and reached up and pushed a ceiling tile in. The room had a drop ceiling. He put the money up in the space and replaced the tile.

  He heard sirens outside and got off the bed and went to the window and pulled the curtains apart and saw two police cars speed by on Campbell, lights flashing. If they got split up, they were supposed to meet at the Rodeo Bar on Speedway. But first he had to have something to eat. He was starving, hadn’t had a thing since morning and it was going on six in the evening. He walked out of the motel and crossed the motor court and went two blocks to a taco stand with picnic tables he’d seen earlier, called Guero’s. He wanted an ice-cold Dos Equis for his parched throat and a plate of chicken burritos and beans and rice for his empty stomach but got a couple of Glock nines in his face instead.

  Jack never found out who dimed him but suspected the old dude who checked him in the motel. He was watching TV when Jack came in the office, a western-dandy type with a waxed moustache, wearing a lot of turquoise and silver jewelry.

  DeJuan said, “Motherfucker got greedy, decide to take it all for his self.”

  Teddy grinned, showing a mouthful of beans. He said, “Now you know why he’s over there and we’re over here.”

  They didn’t have a clue and Jack wasn’t going to explain it. He felt like a fool for letting these clowns get the jump on him. Never saw it coming. But he had to admit, DeJuan was a lot smarter than he seemed.

  What bothered Jack as much as losing his share of the money was finding out he had a kid. Never thought he’d be a dad, marriage not being something he ever wanted any part of. And yet, he found himself studying Luke, checking him out to see if there was any resemblance. Looked at his features: his nose and eyes and ears and forehead and cheekbones. Jack thought he favored Kate more than him. Had her fair complexion and thick full hair and thin build. But it was Luke’s hands that caught his attention. They were his hands-only a smaller version. Luke being his kid wasn’t going to change anything. It was way too late for that now.

  Jack thought about his life and wondered: If he could do it over, would he do it different? And the answer was-no. He pictured himself belly-chained like he was, going back to prison-a two-time loser-doing ten years this time and it scared the hell out of him. He had to figure a way out of this somehow.

  He watched the group at the table like some dysfunctional sitcom family. Kate got up without saying anything and moved into the main room.

  Teddy said, “Where you think you’re going?”

  “Upstairs,” Kate said. “I’ve got to get Luke some clean clothes.”

  “The hell you are,” Teddy said.

  Kate ignored him. She went to the stairs and started up.

  “Hey,” Teddy said, “you hear what I told you?”

  DeJuan got up. “I’m on it.” He came around the table and went after her.

  She was in Luke’s room, taking a pair of jeans out of his dresser, when DeJuan came in, standing in the doorway, the shotgun in his hands like it was glued to him. He sat at Luke’s desk, watching her.

  Kate glanced at him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  DeJuan smiled. “You not? What a relief.”

  “You don’t need the shotgun.”

  “Which probably mean I do.”

  She opened the closet and took a red and blue flannel shirt off a hanger, draping it over the jeans.

  DeJuan said, “What up? What you really doing?”

  Kate said, “What’s it look like?”

  “Getting feisty, huh? Givin’ DeJuan attitude. What it look like-look like you tryin’ to sneak out, get away. That what you doing?”

  “Why don’t you go back down?” Kate said. “I’ll meet you in a few minutes. I’ve got to get something in my room, go to the ladies.”

  She walked past him now, out of the room, carrying Luke’s clothes. He followed her down the hall to her room. He got on the king-size bed, leaned back against the headboard, pillows propped under him, laid the shotgun on the comforter.

  She went to her dresser, opened a drawer, and took out a brown cable-knit sweater she bought at Nordstrom, remembering the price-$180 marked down three times to $22. She opened her underwear drawer-not knowing what he could see-and gripped the Smith and Wesson. 357 Airweig
ht, bringing it out of the drawer, hiding it in the pile of clothes between her sweater and Luke’s shirt.

  DeJuan said, “Now this the kind of bed I like-extra firm.”

  She closed the drawer and glanced over her shoulder, saw him grin at her and grab his crotch.

  “Yo, girlfriend, I got something else over here extra firm.” He patted the bed next to him. “Got something special for you-never seen nothing like this.”

  She started moving across the room toward the door.

  He slid off the bed, leaving the shotgun where it was and caught her before she got to the door. Stood in front of her, acting like he thought she was interested.

  She gripped the handle of the Airweight under the clothes and said, “Let’s see what you’re so proud of.” Wanting to pull the trigger, get it over with, but knowing she couldn’t. It was too risky with Luke downstairs.

  DeJuan dropped his pants to his ankles standing there posing-his thing hanging out-a sly grin on his face.

  Kate said, “That’s all you got?” She stepped past him and he tried to grab her, tripped over his pants and fell on the floor. She ran along the upstairs hall and went down the stairs. Celeste met her at the bottom, pointing the Ruger at her chest.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she said and slapped her across the face with an open hand.

  Kate had her finger on the trigger. Jack was still in the same chair like he was paralyzed. She didn’t see Luke, and that was what kept her from making a move. Don’t be dumb, she told herself.

  “Put it on the floor,” Celeste said. “Let’s see what you’ve got there.”

  Kate bent down and placed the clothes on the rug.

  Celeste shuffled through the pile and the Airweight fell out. Celeste picked it up and aimed it at Kate as DeJuan appeared at the top of the stairs and said, “Yo, we got company.”

  Teddy came in the room now, pulling Luke by his shirt collar, and said, “Cop just pulled in. Sheriff ’s deputy.”

  Celeste said, “How many?”

  “Looks like just one,” Teddy said. He glanced at Celeste. “Stay here and watch ’em.”

  “You stay here,” she said. “I’m gonna take care of this one. It’s my turn.”

  TWENTY — SIX

  Celeste watched him get out of the car with the shotgun. He was wearing his two-tone uniform and a brown baseball cap with a gold star on the front. He took his hat off and rubbed his brush cut. He looked around and went to the front windows and looked in.

  Now he walked along the west side of the cabin. Staring at the tire tracks in the grass, following them, then stopping, looking through a side window into the main room. He held a shotgun in his hands, looking alert, and came to the far edge of the cabin almost in the backyard.

  Celeste came around the corner and met him. She said, “What’s up, Officer? Remember me?”

  He aimed the shotgun at her. She could tell he was nervous. He looked left toward the woods, turned and looked behind him.

  He said, “Mrs. McCall here?”

  “She’s inside,” Celeste said. “Want me to get her?”

  “You look familiar,” the deputy said.

  Celeste said, “Would you mind pointing that scattergun somewhere else? It makes me nervous.”

  He aimed the shotgun barrel at the ground.

  “What’s the problem, Officer?” She had the Ruger tucked in the waistband of her jeans, could feel it pressing against one of her butt cheeks. “You expecting trouble?”

  The deputy stared at her.

  Celeste said, “Carrying a shotgun and wearing a vest?” She could see the impression of it puffing out his shirt.

  “Don’t leave home without it,” the deputy said.

  “That’s clever,” she said. “Ever considered a career in advertising?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “that’s why I became a cop.”

  He grinned, showing he was a fun guy.

  She saw DeJuan appear, coming around the south side of the cabin, moving toward the deputy, leveling his twelve-gauge.

  “You aren’t by chance an Aryan, are you?”

  DeJuan was getting closer-thirty feet away now.

  “My parents were committed, but I never bought it myself,” the deputy said. “Why do you ask?”

  “I had a feeling,” she said. “I don’t know.” But she did. It was the muscles and the brush cut and the blue eyes. He looked like one of Richard Butler’s Ayran Warriors. “How do you feel about blacks?”

  DeJuan was closing in-twenty feet now.

  “I don’t dislike anyone ’less they give me a reason,” he said.

  “How about city jigs with shotguns, who want to do you great bodily harm?”

  “I’d take issue with that,” he said.

  “ ’Cause there’s one behind you right now.”

  The deputy turned like she knew he would and brought the shotgun up, but he was too late. DeJuan fired. Boom. The first blast hit him in the chest, blowing the shotgun out of his hands, sending him backpedaling.

  DeJuan racked the twelve-gauge, moving toward him. The second blast hit him in the head and he went down, body twitching. Celeste pulled the Ruger from her waistband and shot him twice and he lay still.

  Celeste said, “Think he told dispatch where he was going?”

  DeJuan said, “Why you asking me?”

  Teddy appeared now, walking up behind her, and looked at the deputy. “O death, O death, won’t you spare me over for another year,” he said in a singsong voice. “I guess not.” He glanced at her. “I’m death, I come to take the soul. Leave the body and leave it cold.”

  Celeste said, “What the hell’s that?”

  “Them’s words from a song my uncle used to sing when somebody passed away.”

  “This motherfucker didn’t pass away,” DeJuan said. “He blown away.”

  “Where they at?” Celeste said.

  “Locked up tighter than a jaybird’s ass,” Teddy said.

  “How about Jack?”

  “Dumbass setting there in his bracelets,” Teddy said, “tryin’ to figure out what the hell happened.”

  Teddy picked up the deputy’s shotgun, which was now pocked with buckshot, the pump lever hanging from the barrel. “That’s a damn shame-ruined a perfectly good Hi-Standard Flite King twelve-guage.”

  “We through with the small talk now? Got to get the deputy out of here,” DeJuan said.

  Celeste said, “What if he told the station where he was going?”

  “What if he did?” Teddy said.

  “They don’t hear from him,” Celeste said, “they send reinforcements out here to have a look.”

  “I think we’ll be gone by then,” Teddy said.

  “What if we’re not?”

  TWENTY — SEVEN

  Kate heard the first shotgun blast and then another one, followed by two pistol shots and she knew somebody was probably dead and hoped it wasn’t Bill Wink.

  If she had any doubts about what Luke had said earlier, she didn’t now. If these lunatics had no qualms about killing a police officer, they weren’t going to debate too long about Luke and her.

  They were locked in the storage room. It measured twelve feet by fifteen feet, with a high ceiling that had exposed log beams like the rest of the lodge. There was a window up in the peak behind the rafters, letting in afternoon sunlight.

  One side of the room had shelves stocked with canned goods and kitchen supplies. The other side had hooks in the wall where coats and jackets hung. Under the hooks were shelves for shoes and boots.

  She stared at Owen’s bloodstained camo jacket hanging there and his hunting boots that were covered with dry brittle mud. Some of it had come off and looked like gray dust on the wood shelf. She pictured Owen that last morning, Owen with his low-key manner, surprised by her fearful intuition. Yeah, she’d thought something was going to happen but had no idea what. She thought about how his death set into motion a whole series of events that led to their current situation.
There was no way anyone could’ve predicted it-it was too bizarre.

  Owen’s compound bow was in its case, hanging from a strap behind the camo jacket. Teddy’d either missed it or hadn’t considered it a threat when he checked the room and locked them in. He’d gone through Owen’s field pack and found his buck knife. He took it out of the sheath and held up the eight-inch blade.

  He said, “Will you lookit this pigsticker? Bet you could gut a whitetail, huh?” He grinned at Kate. “Or anything else you please.”

  He slid the knife back in the sheath and glanced at Luke. “Hey, what’d it feel like to kill your old man?”

  Luke stared at him, gave him a hard look, but didn’t say anything.

  Teddy said, “Do it on purpose, did you? Tired of him messing with you?”

  She saw Luke’s body tense, knowing Teddy’s cheap shot had hit a nerve.

  “You want to take a swing at me, don’t you?” Teddy said, still grinning. “Have at it, you got the guts.”

  Luke took a step toward Teddy and Kate wrapped her arms around him, holding him back from doing anything stupid.

  Teddy said, “Well, okay, I’ll check back with you later.”

  He walked out of the room and closed the door and she heard the key rattle against metal as he locked it.

  Kate let go of Luke and said, “Don’t listen to that lunatic. He wants you to give him a reason to hurt you.” She went over and lifted the bow case off the hook and put it on the floor and opened it, staring at Owen’s Browning Mirage with its built-in quiver of razor-tipped arrows.

  Luke said, “What’re you doing?”

  Kate said, “Giving us a chance. You were right, they’re not going to leave any witnesses.”

  She closed the bow case and handed it to him, but he wouldn’t take it.

  He said, “I can’t.”

  Kate said, “Do you understand what’s going on here? This might be the only way.”

  He seemed to consider what she was saying and reached out and took the case and slung it over his shoulder.

  Kate glanced up at the window. “You’ve got to get out of here and go to Autry’s, tell Elvin to call the sheriff ’s department.” The Autrys were their closest neighbors-about a mile and a half away.