by Ben Rehder
I didn’t have time for a thorough search, even if I had the nerve. Someone must’ve heard that explosion echoing around the hills, must’ve seen the black smoke rising from the burning car. Someone must’ve called the cops by now.
I went to the kitchen, shotgun still at the ready. When I’d last seen the black suitcase that morning, it was sitting on the dining table. Maybe the money was hidden somewhere in the kitchen.
The suitcase still sat on the redwood table. I snatched open cabinets, yanked open drawers, looked in the freezer and the oven, but I found no money.
I was out of time. I needed to go.
I took one last look around. My gaze fell on the black suitcase. Hmm. I went to the kitchen table and grasped the suitcase handle.
Because you never know.
I lifted.
The bag was heavy.
I unzipped it and looked inside. Decks of money like the ones Cody hid at his trailer. Except a lot more. Rydell must’ve loaded the ransom back in here. He must’ve been planning to split.
Heart racing, I zipped up the bag, gathered the shotgun and went out the back door.
The penned-up hounds had gone quiet after the gunfire. They stood staring at me, perfectly still, as if they knew I’d killed their master. Maybe they could smell the blood. I felt guilty as I hurried to Cody’s truck.
I kept the shotgun ready, but there was no one. I was the only one left alive here. And I had one million dollars.
As I reached the highway, I looked at the suitcase on the floorboard. Once again, a choice. I could run, right now. Take the money and get as far away as a million bucks would take me. Or, I could turn toward town. Risk cops and prison to face a woman who’d been lying to me all along. A woman who’d used me the same way she used Butch Gentry and every other man who crossed her path.
I looked both ways, then goosed Cody’s truck up onto the pavement, aimed toward Redding.
And Vanessa.
Because you never know.
Chapter 61
I faced the choice again when I reached Vanessa’s house. The shotgun or the bag of money? Which one to carry to her door? Both? I voted to trust her. I dragged the heavy black bag out of the truck.
Her Jag was the only car out front, but I truly had no idea what to expect when I rang the bell. For all I knew, a dozen FBI agents waited behind that door. Ted Davies might answer the door and recognize his luggage. Maybe the doorbell would play a fanfare of banjo music and a Corvette would fly out. Any goddamned thing seemed possible.
When the door opened, it was Vanessa, alone, and she smiled when she saw me standing there. She wore a black knit top and snug black slacks, already dressed to play the somber widow. On her it was all allure. She looked sleek as a housecat.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I cut it close.” I held up my arm so she could see the bullet hole burned through my shirt.
“Oh, my God.”
Her alarm didn’t last long. Her green eyes strayed to the suitcase in my hand.
“Is that the money?”
“Yeah. I’ve got it all. We need to get out of town.”
“Right. Okay. Come in first.”
I slipped past her. She checked for nosy neighbors before shutting the door. Then she was up against me, her hands in my hair, her mouth on mine. It was one hell of kiss, maybe the best in my life, or maybe that’s just the way kisses taste when you’re holding a million bucks.
She leaned back and smiled and said, “How did you get that money away from Rydell?”
I watched her carefully as I said, “Rydell’s dead.”
A flash in her eyes, a little catch in her breathing, but she covered well.
“The cops will be all over this thing soon,” I said. “We need to go.”
“Where to?”
“With this much money, we can go anywhere.”
Her smile winked off and on. “I just need to know what to bring.”
“We’ll head for a beach somewhere.” I smiled. “Pack your bikini.”
She nodded and hurried off toward her bedroom.
“We can buy anything else we need,” I called after her. “We’ve got plenty of cash. We’ll be like, ‘Hey, buddy, can you break a Benjamin?’”
I kept talking though I knew she was out of earshot.
“That’ll impress ‘em, down at the beach. Us and our hundred-dollar bills.”
I carried the suitcase over to the window wall and stood looking out at the rippling river. A dazzling white egret waded the edge of the water, patiently fishing.
A shape moved in the glass, a blurry reflection of black-clad Vanessa walking up behind me. Her honey-wine hair glinted in the sunlight. I turned toward her, saying, “That was fast—”
She shot me twice. The first bullet burned into my side and cracked a rib. The second hit my chest, just below my right collarbone. The shots were so abrupt, it was as if the noise itself pierced me. Pop, pop.
I fell backward and bounced off the thick window. Pain washed over me as I hit the floor. I landed on my own elbow, and it knocked the breath out of me.
Vanessa grabbed the suitcase and dragged it out of my reach, keeping a tiny black pistol pointed my way. It looked like a toy, a cigarette lighter, a gag. But it had put two holes in me.
“Why?” I moaned.
“This whole thing has turned to shit. I’ve got to get away. I can’t drag you along.”
“But I brought you the money—”
“What do you want me to say? Thanks?”
“I would’ve given it to you, if that’s all you wanted.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You didn’t need to do this.”
“You’re the last witness,” she said. “Now no one knows I was involved.”
I finally understood.
“You knew all along that they’d kill him.”
Her eyes flashed. “I didn’t want Lester dead. I wanted what every woman wants. Money and a divorce.”
Each breath hurt, and I fought the urge to cough. I had some things I needed to say.
“You knew Lester would figure it out. Did he know your history with Rydell?”
She didn’t answer. She hefted the suitcase, appeared to take pleasure from its weight. With her other hand, she extended the little pistol, pointed it right at my face.
“You used me,” I said. “The same way you used Butch Gentry.”
She tried to act surprised, but didn’t quite pull it off. Everything an act with her, the world her stage, today’s show her best-paid role.
The coughs came now, ragged and rattling in my lungs, shooting pains through my chest. Vanessa looked impatient.
“You got me all worked up,” I said hoarsely, “so I’d get rid of Rydell.”
She gave me a chilly smile. “Which leaves only you.”
I closed my eyes. I flashed on that instant when buckshot turned Rydell’s face into a bloody spray. On Wayne Cherry’s final sneer. On poor Cody. All of them dead because of me. Now it was my turn.
“Drop the weapon, Mrs. Davies.” A man’s voice, deep and gruff.
I blinked my eyes open. The room swam, and I felt like I was falling even though I was already on the floor.
Vanessa whirled around, surprise on her face, her hair spread behind her like a matador’s cape. The gun still in her hand.
Two bangs, as loud and final as a judge’s gavel. She flew backward, tripping over the suitcase full of money, falling to the carpet in an unladylike sprawl. She didn’t move.
I was losing consciousness. My blurred vision went black around the edges, a narrowing tunnel.
A face loomed into view, close to mine. Scarred cheeks and lizard eyes and an ear like a pink wad of chewed gum.
“Newlin?” said Chief V.J. Drake. “You alive?”
The world winked out.
Chapter 62
I woke to the scent of Juicy Fruit. I blinked my eyes open to find Chief Drake’s ugly face inches from mine. His big head
nearly blocked my view of what appeared to be a sunny hospital room.
“Newlin? Eric Newlin? Can you hear me?”
I grunted.
“We need to talk.” He grabbed a plastic chair and dragged it close. He sat and scooted up until he was right in my face again.
“Water,” I croaked.
From the nightstand, he retrieved a yellow plastic cup and held its bent straw to my lips. Cold water had never tasted so good.
My mind started to function. How long had I been out? How badly was I hurt? Was I under arrest? I didn’t get a chance to ask.
“I know all about the kidnapping,” Drake said. “Appears that everybody involved is dead. Except you. We can tie it all up in court and ruin people’s reputations, just to put you behind bars where you belong. Or, we can list the whole thing as ‘unsolved’ and bury it deep and let people get on with their lives.”
“I vote for the second one.” My voice sounded froggy. I wondered if I’d had a tube down my throat while I was unconscious. I had needles in my arms, tubes running to IV bags, and a floaty feeling that told me drugs barely shielded me from a world of pain. “Assuming I get a vote.”
“Always the smartass,” Drake said.
“Rydell Vance said I was a dumbass. My ass is having an up-and-down week.”
The chief blinked his hooded eyes, waiting until I was done being a smartass. He looked back over his shoulder, checking that the door was shut. That look told me a lot about what was to come.
“I’ve made you out to be a victim in this deal,” he said. “My investigation has found that unidentified kidnappers came back to the Davies home for some reason and killed Vanessa Davies and tried to kill you.”
“But I survived.”
“So far.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Lester Davies is missing and presumed dead,” he said. “His son’s already planning a big memorial for him and Vanessa. The whole thing’s a real tragedy.”
“Not for Ted. He got rich.”
“Hell, he was already rich. This just speeds things along. Everybody’ll soon forget about Lester and his mysterious death. Ted will be running this town.”
“Too bad for the town.”
“It’s always some ambitious asshole like him,” the chief said. “One learns to cope.”
He leaned back and plucked at the knees of his uniform pants.
“As for Rydell Vance,” he said. “His house burned down, apparently with him inside, after the propane tank blew up. Sheriff’s department is still doing the forensics work, but we’re pretty sure it’s him.”
I tried to keep my face blank as I said, “That’s too bad.”
“Aw, hell. That’s what people do up in these hills. Burn the houses down to cover up the evidence. Keeps the fire marshal hopping.”
He shot another glance at the door.
“Hubert Askew and Wayne Cherry were found dead at a cabin up near Castella,” he said. “Don’t suppose there’s anything you want to tell me about that.”
I shook my head.
“I’m guessing they were mixed up with drugs,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of drug-related crime around here. Marijuana plantations. Meth labs. Hillbilly heroin. The dealers tend to shoot each other. Mostly trash killing trash, and it’s all good business for us. We get those federal crime-fighting dollars. The War on Drugs is a big moneymaker.”
“How much do they give you for unsolved kidnappings?”
Drake leaned over and spat his gum into a wastebasket.
“You mean if it remains unsolved. That depends on you, doesn’t it?”
I looked around the sterile room. No flowers. No nurses. Just me and Drake, and me practically immobilized by bandages and tubes, stiffness and pain.
“What do you want me to do?”
“They’re going to let you out of this hospital in a day or two. You’ll go out to the parking lot, where you’ll find Cody Barker’s pickup truck. I believe you have the keys?”
I swallowed.
“We haven’t talked about Cody Barker,” he said. “You must be one silver-tongued devil to talk a good ole boy like him into crawling down in the mud and shit with the rest of you.”
“It wasn’t me. He wanted the money.”
“What he got was dead. Take a lesson from him, Newlin. When you get out of the hospital, drive away from here and don’t look back. Forget about this town.”
We locked eyes awhile.
“What?” he said. “Now you want to stay? I thought you couldn’t wait to get away from us rednecks. Dumped your wife, a good job, the fucking Honeydew fortune, because you thought you were better and smarter than people around here. People like Ted. Or Rydell. Or me.”
I kept my lips pressed together for fear that something stupid might fall out of my mouth.
“Maybe you think you’re smart enough to pull one over on me yet,” he said. “Maybe you think you can make some noise about what happened to Lester and the rest. If you do, I’ll put the blame on you. I’ve got guns with your fingerprints on them. I’ve got lots of unsolved homicides. I’m sure we can match some up and make a nice case. This is a law-and-order town. A Redding jury would love to try a smug outsider like you.”
He sat back and let that sink in. Checked the door once more before he said, “Or, you can leave town with no charges pending against you. Just disappear.”
I didn’t have to think it over.
“I’ll go.”
Drake stood and put the chair against the wall. He hitched his gunbelt and looked around my sunny room.
It was taking a chance, but I had to ask. “What happened to the money?”
“What money would that be?”
“The ransom. The black suitcase.”
He smiled thinly. “Officially, it’s missing. Unofficially, that money was confiscated. Turned out to be involved in a criminal enterprise. I told you crime was big business in these parts.”
“So it goes into the government coffers?”
“In a manner of speaking.” That creepy smile again. “It’ll provide one public servant with a very nice retirement.”
He turned to leave, but I croaked: “One last question.”
“Yeah?”
“Things are a little hazy. When I got shot, where did you come from?”
“I was watching Vanessa Davies, trying to find out if Butch Gentry’s death had anything to do with the fact that he’d been sleeping with her.”
“You knew about that?”
“Hell, son, this is a small town. Probably half the population knew that.”
“Guess I was in the other half.”
“Always.”
What could I say? He was right.
“I saw Ted and All Right Dwight coming and going, and I knew something was up. Then you arrived, lugging that suitcase. I listened at the window as you bounced in there all rich and happy and got your ass shot off.”
I cringed.
“Lucky for you the back door was unlocked,” he said. “If I’d had to kick it down, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Yeah. Lucky me.”
“So long, Newlin.”
Chief Drake opened the door and went out into the hall. As the door eased shut, I heard him say to someone, “He’s awake.”
Chapter 63
They let me out of the hospital two days later. A pint-sized Asian nurse wheeled me into the blinding sunshine and said, “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
I smiled her off and hoisted myself out of the wheelchair. Cody’s truck was parked near the entrance in a handicapped spot. I only had to walk a few steps, which were about how many I had in me.
Under my shirt, my entire shoulder was encased in gauze and tape. That bullet – lucky me – had missed my lung. My ribs were covered with tape, too, where the surgeons removed the other bullet. My internal organs were intact, but the cracked rib ached with every movement. I probably shouldn’t have been turned out of the hospita
l so soon, but the doctors decided I was much improved once they determined I had no insurance.
I groaned as I climbed behind the wheel. The nurse stood on the sidewalk, watching, so I couldn’t lie down on the seat and take a nap. I cranked the engine and waved at her while it warmed up. After she rolled the wheelchair back indoors, I put the truck into gear and let it creep out of the parking lot.
The gas tank was full, which seemed considerate. My two suitcases sat in the floorboard, apparently gathered up by the same surly cop who’d delivered the clothes I now wore. The shotgun I’d left in the cab was long-gone, likely in an evidence locker somewhere.
The hilltop hospital had weeping willows in its lawn, all trimmed off even like green mops. Beyond them, the city spread across its bowl of river valley. The sky was bright blue with a few cotton-ball clouds drifting east, toward the distant Sierra Nevada.
I followed them.
East of town, the highway narrowed, winding among farmhouses, oaks and mountain creeks. I’d miss this country, with its golden grasslands and sparkling water. But I wouldn’t miss the local folk, and they’d clearly be glad to see me go. Couldn’t really blame them. I hadn’t added much to the community.
I moaned as I wrestled the truck onto the rutted dirt track that led to Cody Barker’s trailer. Pines brushed against the sides of the truck as it eased over the potholes to his trout-stream paradise.
I sat in the cluttered cab a long time, working up my strength. I gingerly climbed out and shuffled over to the trailer door. Went through Cody’s keys until I found the right one.
The trailer was hot and airless inside, and clearly had been searched. Drawers stood open and cushions had been removed from furniture. No chance of finding some leftover marijuana for the road. All confiscated by now.
Seeing Cody’s scattered things gave me a new ache in my chest. He was the only one I’d miss in Calabama, and he was gone forever.
I rested a minute, leaning against a wall, then went down the hall to his bedroom. I stiffly knelt in the corner and peeled back the shag carpet where I’d seen him hide the money. Ben Franklin smiled up at me, amused.