by Ben Rehder
“Rydell didn’t say anything else?”
“Told me to stay away from here. Then he sent me to carry food to Hubert and Wayne.”
“Did you see Lester?”
“Briefly. They had him tied up, but he looked okay.”
She sipped her drink and tapped the edge of the glass against her teeth, thinking.
“You know I’ve just been using Rydell, right? I need to get out of this marriage with a pile of cash. Rydell was a way to make that happen.”
“I thought you two had been sweethearts since high school.”
“Not sweethearts. Never that. We recognized something in each other, early on, but I never thought my future was with Rydell Vance.”
She set her drink aside, and rolled onto her side to face me.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking I’d rather spend my life with someone closer to my own age. Someone still vigorous.”
Her hand slipped over my cock, which dutifully awakened.
“Maybe, when this is all over—”
“Maybe,” she said.
“You’ll have half a million. I’ll have another fifty grand. That’s enough to roll around in.”
She laughed.
“Enough to start a new life,” I said.
Our eyes met, and we were quiet for a minute.
“Twice that much would be better,” she said. Then she pressed her warm mouth against mine.
“Get some rest,” she said after we came up for air. “I’ve got plans for you. Later.”
She cuddled against me. Within minutes, she was sound asleep.
I lay awake a long time, thinking over what she’d said about the million dollars, and what kind of head start that much money would buy. Could we somehow take it all?
I was in bed with Rydell Vance’s woman. That was amazing and terrifying enough. Did I have the balls to double-cross him, too?
Chapter 50
I woke early the next morning. Must’ve been dreaming about Rydell because I felt panicked and sweaty as I rolled out of Vanessa’s bed.
I hadn’t intended to spend the night at her house. But we’d worn each other out, and getting up and slipping away had been out of the question. Now, in the blush of daylight, I recognized my own foolishness. If Rydell happened by, I was a dead man.
Vanessa yawned and stretched while I jumped into my clothes.
“Going somewhere?”
“I need to leave before someone notices my truck. It doesn’t look right for you to have overnight guests while your husband is missing.”
She laughed. “Certainly wouldn’t look right to have overnight guests when he’s here.”
I was too nervous to laugh.
“Want some coffee before you go?”
“I’ll get some later. I need to get out of here.”
I leaned across the bed and kissed her on the lips.
“You’ll be back,” she said as I broke away.
“Count on it.”
I peeked out the front door, squinting against the rising sun, but didn’t see anyone. I hurried around the corner to my truck and drove away.
A change of clothes was the first order of business. My shirt and jeans looked as if they’d been rumpled on a bedroom floor all night, and I probably reeked of Vanessa. I drove to Cody’s place, the sun in my eyes.
Cody was on his trailer’s little porch, leaving for work, as I arrived. He put his fists on his hips and watched as I got out of my truck.
“Where have you been?”
I would’ve loved to tell him. But some things are too dangerous to share, even with your best buddy.
“Out catting around,” I said. “Isn’t that what a man’s supposed to do when he finds himself suddenly single?”
He squinted at me. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
He opened the door and I slipped past him into the dim coolness of the old mobile home.
“I just need a change of clothes,” I said. “Some coffee.”
I made myself at home in the kitchen, locating the coffee and the filters and a clean cup. Cody watched me from the doorway, his cap low over his eyes.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” he said finally.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not acting like yourself.”
“Well, let’s see, Cody. I’ve lost my job and my wife and my home in the past few days. Maybe that’s got me acting a little funny.”
He shook his head slowly, but he didn’t say anything. I got the coffeemaker going, then turned to find him still studying me.
“You’re mixed up in something,” he said. “Tell me what it is.”
“No. It’s better that you not know.”
“Better how?”
“Safer.”
His crossed his thick arms over his chest.
“I’ve never been real interested in safety,” he said. “When a friend’s in need—”
“You don’t have to say it. You’re the best. You’re true blue. If I could tell anybody about my situation, it would be you. But it’s just not smart.”
He stared at me some more.
When I didn’t offer anything else, he shrugged and said, “I’ve got to get to work. Call if you need me.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’m going to stay right here.”
He went out the door, looking worried. A few seconds later, I heard his truck crank up and drive away.
I poured a cup of coffee and went to the window. Dust still hung in the air over the driveway, and the trees seemed to be bracing for another day of blistering sun. I turned Cody’s air conditioning up a notch, then went to the bathroom to clean up.
The shower was tiny and stank of mold, but it did the job. I came out smelling like soap and shampoo rather than sex and sweat, and I put on a pair of jeans and tucked in a button-down shirt.
I poured another cup of coffee and sat in the living room, tempted to roll a joint to calm my jangled nerves. But I had a phone call to make first.
Rydell answered on the first ring.
“It’s Eric,” I said. “Just checking in. Anything happening yet?”
“It’s all set. I’m sending Wayne to pick up the money.”
“By himself?”
“It’s just one bag,” Rydell said. “He can handle it.”
“That’s a lot of money. Do you trust him?”
“Wayne’s been with me for years. He does exactly what I tell him.”
“Still, it would be tempting to run off and—”
“What do you suggest?” he snapped. “I’m sure as hell not going to pick up the money myself. And Hubert’s watching the old man.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Are you volunteering? Because I gotta tell you, Eric. I’ve known Wayne a lot longer than I’ve known you.”
“I’m sure Wayne will do fine.”
I pictured the way we’d planned it. Ted, on foot, would carry the suitcase full of money from Vanessa’s house to a triangle-shaped park a few blocks away. The riverside park wasn’t much – concrete picnic tables, flowerbeds, shady cottonwoods – but the sightlines were good. Ted was supposed to stash the money under a picnic table and walk back to the house. Once Wayne was sure no cops were watching, he’d pick up the money and take it to Rydell.
Should go off without a hitch. Then why did I feel so anxious? Like it could all come crashing down any second?
“Just sit tight,” Rydell said. “We’re in the home stretch now.”
I closed the phone and sat there, thinking I should feel great, with fifty grand about to fall in my lap. My runaway money. But my connection with Vanessa complicated matters. Could I leave her behind? Was there a way we could escape together?
First, we needed to secure that ransom. Rydell might trust Wayne to fetch a million bucks, but I sure as hell didn’t. I locked up Cody’s trailer and drove into town.
Chapter 51
I parked my pickup on a side street in the shade of
a sycamore. Between tree trunks, I could see the wedge of green parkland and a strip of asphalt parking lot. Only two vehicles there – a dusty old truck that looked abandoned, and the black Dodge I’d first seen days ago, chasing Butch Gentry. The midday sun glinted on the Charger’s windshield. I couldn’t see Wayne inside, but there was no mistaking that car.
I rolled down my window. The river was a couple of blocks away, but I could hear the whisper of its rushing water.
The Dodge’s door opened and Wayne awkwardly emerged. He stooped to adjust his leg brace, then limped along a sidewalk that angled through the park. He wore jeans, a maroon shirt and an anxious expression. Not exactly subtle, the way his Brylcreemed head kept whipping around, but there was no one watching. No one but me.
Wayne passed one gray picnic table, and stopped at the next one. He reached under the bench and came up with the black suitcase. The bag looked heavy, the way he carried it with both hands, but he struggled back to the car. He opened the trunk, heaved the suitcase inside and slammed the lid. He got in the Dodge and started it up, exhaust pipes throbbing.
As the Dodge backed away, I got a glimpse of a second silhouette in the car. A huge shape in the shotgun seat.
Hubert.
What the hell?
I took off after the Charger, following it over a bridge and uphill past car lots, lube shops and fast-food joints. It didn’t surprise me when Wayne took the ramp onto northbound Interstate 5, but I was surprised two miles later, when he passed the exit that would’ve taken them east to Rydell’s place.
Where were they going? Had Rydell changed the plan without telling me? Maybe they were meeting somewhere else.
I kept following them, hanging back so they wouldn’t recognize my silver truck with its cracked windshield and damaged paint.
Bait shops and boat stores lined the freeway as we neared Lake Shasta. We crossed a long bridge high over the Pit River arm of the lake, and I could see powerboats below, creasing the blue water with their wakes. The water level was down, exposing a rusty bathtub ring of bare rock between the treeline and the shimmering lake.
The Dodge passed slow-moving semis as we climbed a steep slope, leaving the lake behind.
Something was wrong. I called Rydell. Cell reception was iffy here, too many hills in the way, but I got through on the second try.
“Are you at home?” I asked. “Wayne’s still supposed to bring the money to you there?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Then maybe you can explain why Wayne and Hubert are zooming north on I-5, nowhere near where you live.”
“North?”
“We just passed over Lake Shasta.”
Nothing but the crackle of static for a minute. Just as I was beginning to think I’d lost him, he said, “Hubert was with him?”
“Yeah. Isn’t he supposed to be watching Lester?”
“That was the plan.”
“Your boys are ripping you off.”
“Looks that way,” he said. “Damn.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Stay with ‘em. I’m pretty sure I know where they’re going. Hubert’s family owns a cabin by this little lake near Castella. I imagine they’re headed up there to hide out.”
“Not much of a hiding place if you know about it.”
“Hubert probably doesn’t remember telling me about it,” he said. “But I know where it is. I’ll meet you up there.”
“Okay. I’ll call you again as soon as we stop.”
“Watch yourself, hoss. Don’t let ‘em see you. If they’re willing to cheat me, they won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.”
Nothing to say to that.
After a second, Rydell said, “I’m on my way.”
Chapter 52
Things got dicey after we left the interstate. The Dodge turned onto a paved road that snaked westward through forested hills. No way for me to stay close without being seen. I might’ve lost them altogether, but they turned onto a gravel road and I noticed yellow dust hanging in the air as I passed. I braked and turned around and let my truck creep up to the gap in the pines.
I told myself to wait here for Rydell, but I wouldn’t listen. I steered the truck between the trees, watching for any sign of life.
After a couple of curves, the gravel road dipped out of the confining conifers, and a grassy slope stretched down to the rocky shore of a small blue lake shaped like an egg. To my right, four boxy cabins hid along the fringe of evergreens. Each cabin was built of logs and cedar shingles, and they all but disappeared into the forest backdrop. The black car was parked beside the last one.
I backed up until I was out of sight of the cabins, then eased off the road, weeds scraping under my truck. I dialed Rydell’s cell.
“Yeah?” The reception was crackly.
“You guessed right,” I said. “They went to that cabin.”
I started giving him directions, but he interrupted, saying, “They’re there now?”
“That’s right.”
“And where are you?”
“Hiding in the woods. There’s only one road in and out, and I’m watching it.”
“All right. I’ll be there in a little bit.”
“Then what?” I asked, but he’d already hung up.
I put the phone away and rolled down the windows. It was cooler here in the mountains, but the air was motionless. I wiped sweat off my face, and thought about the ransom and Rydell and what might happen next. Would he face down the two thieves? Would they hand over the money? I couldn’t imagine Wayne and Hubert (or anyone else, for that matter) standing up to Rydell Vance.
The old Econoline van appeared on the gravel road ten minutes later. Rydell hit the brakes when he saw my truck, and his tires skidded on the gravel. I walked over to the matte-black van.
“Get in,” he said.
I climbed into the passenger seat and pointed up ahead, but Rydell didn’t go. He reached into a paper sack between the bucket seats and pulled out a snubnose revolver.
I froze, thinking that he’d somehow found out about me and Vanessa, that he’d chosen this time and secluded place for his revenge. But he spun the blue-steel pistol around and handed it to me butt-first.
“You know how to use one of these?”
“Sure.” I gingerly took the revolver. “Point, cock and pull the trigger.”
“You probably won’t need it,” Rydell said, “but it’s better to expect the worst.”
“I don’t know if I can—”
“Don’t wimp out on me now, Eric. This’ll be over before you know it.”
I held the loaded gun in my lap as the van crept toward the cabins. Rydell pulled in beside the next-to-last cabin, so the van was screened from view. After he killed the engine, he reached into the paper sack and removed another six-shooter, this one shiny stainless steel with pearl grips and a six-inch barrel.
He got out of the van, and I followed, scared shitless.
Rydell walked to the rear of the empty cabin, and gestured me over. Following his lead, I peered around the corner.
“Looks like these cabins have back doors,” he said. “I’ll come in that way. You go around and knock on the front door.”
“Say what?”
“Go knock. They’ll go running to see who it is, and I’ll come in behind them.”
“What if the back door’s locked? What if they shoot me on sight?”
Rydell looked perturbed. “Do you not have a gun in your hand, right this minute?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then what are you bitching about? Go knock on the door. If they give you any trouble, shoot ‘em.”
“But they work for you—”
“Not anymore. Bastards tried to steal from me. We’re through. Now go knock on the fucking door.”
He slipped around the corner of the cabin, and I marched to the front. I did not want to knock on that door. I sure as hell didn’t want to shoot anybody. But Rydell wouldn’t take kindly to being disobeyed.
And what would I do instead? Run for my truck, parked way back there in the trees? He’d pick me off before I made it halfway.
My knees felt rubbery, but I managed to put one foot in front of the other. Heavy curtains covered the side windows. No windows in front, but I held the pistol behind my hip, out of sight, as I rapped on the wooden door.
Scurry and thump inside the cabin. The door opened and Wayne stood there, leaning on the doorknob, his weight on his good leg. He mirrored my stance, his right hand hidden behind his hip. Past his pompadour, I could see the cabin was one big room with an open kitchen in one corner. Curtains had been thrown back from the two windows facing the lake, and squares of yellow light splatted across the dusty wooden floor.
Two narrow beds jutted from the wall to my right. On my left squatted a battered sofa. Beyond the sofa, Hubert raised his bulk from a round dining table, his chair falling over backward, surprise on his face.
Wayne’s lined face twisted into a bitter snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
My heart was going like a trip-hammer and my nerves sang, but I smiled and said, “Trick or treat.”
Bang! The back door kicked open and Rydell stepped inside, his pistol held waist-high. The white half of his mustache glowed in the fractured light.
Hubert bellowed and wheeled at him, a giant fist upraised. Rydell barely changed the angle of the pistol as he pulled the trigger twice. Hubert’s mass absorbed the bullets, and he crashed into Rydell. They hit the plank floor so hard, the whole cabin shook.
Wayne wheeled toward the wrestling men, bringing up the black revolver he’d been holding behind his hip. Turned his back to me, which was a mistake, because I cracked him across the skull with my gun.
As he fell into a heap, I stepped past him, my pistol aimed at Hubert’s broad back. I didn’t want to shoot him. I sure as hell didn’t want to shoot through him and hit Rydell.
Another shot, muffled by Hubert’s bulk, and the big man went stiff all over. Rydell’s arm snaked loose, the shiny pistol in his hand. He pressed the muzzle against the nipple on Hubert’s cheek and blew his brains across the room.
The gunshot echoed around the cabin. Then silence.
Wayne groaned and shifted on the floor. I kicked his pistol away, then went to help Rydell wrestle out from under Hubert.