Culprits

by Richard Brewer

  “It was good, have to say. Or else I really needed some protein.”

  “Yeah, don’t sweat it. But since I gotta go out to eat, you want to join me, maybe have a little fun?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You trying to get me busted? You think no one will notice me?”

  “It’s not a big deal. You’re my old college amiga in town for a few days on the way to your new job. That’s all true. And if one of my co-workers starts asking questions just because you’re a stranger, well, too bad. I’ll make it clear you’re on the straight and narrow. Who’d suspect that you had anything to do with the big shoot-out anyway? You don’t look the part, you want to know the truth. No one’s after you specifically. Not yet.”

  “You said it was too hot for me to leave. Now you’re saying I got nothing to worry about. Which is it, Tony? Maybe I should just hit the road.”

  “No, not what I mean. You can’t travel out in the open, away from town. It’s certain you’ll get stopped and questioned. That could go any way but good. But here in Kilroy? No one’s thinking about the Crystal Q except for Big Jim and the three stooges he calls officers, and me. And none of us are looking for you. You got nothing to worry about in this town.”

  She wasn’t convinced but she worried that she’d lose it if she stayed one more hour in the pitiful house.

  Tony drove the Crown Vic during his shifts or when he ran errands for Big Jim. But at night he cruised in his two-year-old Ford F-150, the only nice thing he owned, or so he bragged. “A work in progress,” he’d told Vivian. “I added step bars and the chrome and black wheels to match the Tuxedo Black paint. Gonna trick up the interior next, soon as I have enough saved.”

  She’d grunted an ambiguous response. Boys and their toys, she thought. Ain’t nothing new.

  Tony kept up a steady stream of small talk on the drive to the Kilroy Ice House. He went on about his plans for the truck, about how Big Jim was an idiot, and what he thought they could do when it came time to finally leave Kilroy.

  Vivian listened with one ear. Her mind was on the money and how soon she could run. All she had to do was get out of town and across the state line. And dump Garza when some of the dust settled.

  Along Main Street, a few yellow lights emphasized the emptiness. He turned onto a cross street in the direction of the pale moon. They drove past old frame houses with thin lawns or gravel front yards. The bushes were permanently bent from the wind. Gray light shone through the blinds or curtains that hung in most of the front windows. Looking at the town made her tired. She’d been in Kilroy one day too long. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she had to run. Vacation was already over.

  Tony stopped at a squat narrow building lit up with beer signs, Christmas lights, and a blinking billboard that simply announced BEER! The open-air place was surrounded by more cars than Vivian had seen in the entire town since she’d appeared on Tony’s porch.

  A noisy booze-soaked crowd packed the ice house. Everything and everyone was bathed in orange light that vibrated with the hum of the customers. Tony worked his way through the loud men and women, many wearing cowboy hats. He acknowledged several with a nod of his head or an energetic greeting. Most stared at Vivian. A few smiled at Tony with a look of admiration, a few others didn’t hide their hostility.

  They stood for several minutes until a pair of underage boys stumbled from a small table in a corner. Another ten minutes and they drank cold beer. In the background, Vivian heard Ray Wylie Hubbard growling—couldn’t really call it singing—that the snake farm “just sounds nasty.”

  “This place ain’t happening for me,” she said. She almost had to shout to make herself heard. “Maybe we can get something to eat somewhere else? Doesn’t look like there’s a kitchen in this joint.”

  Before Tony could answer, a shadow covered their table. Vivian looked up into the bloodshot blue eyes of Big Jim Spencer.

  “Well, well. Where you been hidin’ this young lady, Tony? Seems like only yesterday you was bitchin’ about no action in this town and here you are with what looks like more action than even you can handle. My, my. You’re full of surprises. Guess you forgot about that file, eh?” Big Jim straightened up. He extended his hand to Vivian. “I’m Big Jim, sweetie. Chief of police around here. Tony’s boss, in case you didn’t know.”

  Vivian took his hand. Big Jim’s sweaty, meaty palm surrounded her fingers. She let go as soon as she felt his leathery skin but he hung on until she finally jerked away.

  “Yeah, Tony’s mentioned you.” She stared at her empty beer bottle.

  “Uh, boss, this is Vivian,” Tony said. “An old friend. From school. She just got into town. I’m showing her the Kilroy sights, such as they are. She’s only passing through.”

  “Too bad. This town could use some prettyin’ up. So, where you headed, Miss Vivian?”

  “Up to Dallas.” She moved her eyes back to Big Jim’s and locked him in her gaze until he blinked and looked away. “I got family there. New job. Taking a break before I go back to work.”

  “Oh yeah? Family, huh? I know a lot of people in Dallas. Maybe I know your kin.” He paused, watched Tony for a few seconds. He looked down at Vivian again. “And what kind of work you do? Maybe we could use you here. That way you could stay on. Sure Tony’d like that.” Tony smiled at Big Jim. “Where’d you say you’re from, sweetie?”

  “The coast. Oakland.”

  “California? Shit, we can’t compete with California, right, Tony? Not with the ocean and movie stars and all those fancy houses. Long ways from here. You come by train? I ain’t seen any strange cars on the streets and we sure as hell don’t have no airport. Trains, we got.”

  Vivian’s fingernail picked at the label on her beer bottle. “You might not believe it but I hitchhiked from Austin. Wanted to see Texas up close. You know what?” She found his eyes again and stared hard at the lawman. “So far, I haven’t been impressed. Once you get past Austin, there ain’t much to hold your attention. Maybe Dallas will be better.”

  Big Jim half-laughed, half-coughed. “You right about that. Like someone once told me. He could never live in Texas, that’s why he lived in Austin.” He faked another laugh. “Anyway, that’s mighty dangerous, hitchin’. If you was my daughter, I’d say don’t do it. But you ain’t, is you?”

  “That’s funny, boss,” Tony said. “I mean, her father and all that.” He watched Vivian, unsure about what she might do. He’d seen her in bar fights and it wasn’t pretty.

  “You know we got some real bad hombres runnin’ lose, don’t ya?” Big Jim asked. “Tony must’ve filled you in about the battle at the Crystal Q. Young lady like you could get caught crosswise. Good thing you know a policeman, right? I’m sure Tony is takin’ care of you every which way.”

  She clenched her fists under the table. She smiled at Big Jim. “Yeah, I’m in good hands. I got good old Tony for protection. If I need it. Can’t be too careful these days.”

  Big Jim’s face glistened in the orange light. He surveyed the crowd, patted the gun in the holster on his hip, and tapped his fingers on the brim of his gray stained hat.

  “Hate to walk away from such attractive company but I’ll leave you two old friends to get reacquainted.” He placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “You takin’ off early for the Crystal Q?”

  “Yeah, sure. Probably around seven. But I won’t be back until day after. Like we talked.”

  “Sounds good. Hope you dig up somethin’. I got another call from Austin. Somebody has to do somethin’. Might as well be the Kilroy Police Department. Right, Miss Vivian? Think Tony can get his name in the papers and the politicians off my ass? Excuse the French.”

  “Oh, Jim, I don’t know anything about all that. Like Tony said, I’m just passing through. I’ll be gone in another day or two.”

  Big Jim nodded. “You bet.” He walked away. The crowd parted to let him through and his tall, bow-legged frame slipped into the artificial haze.
>
  “Goddamn,” Vivian cursed. “This was a very bad mistake. He’s on to me. I have to leave this town, tonight.”

  “Hang on,” Tony said. “We can’t panic.” He reached for her hand but she slid away from him. “He doesn’t know anything he can prove. He has to get corroboration of his suspicions, especially if he doesn’t want to look like a dumbass to all the other cops in North Texas. Or to that damn League.” She shook her head. She knew better than to believe Tony. “Just wait,” he continued. “Until tomorrow. It’s perfect. I’m supposed to drive to the Crystal Q. You’ll be with me and we’ll run for it. Get the money and take a flight out of Dallas. We can be in another state, hell, another country before Jim figures out I ain’t coming back and you’re gone.”

  “He’ll watch the house.”

  “Maybe. But in the morning we’ll leave like we’re going for breakfast. Nothing wrong with that. He can join us if he’s really following. If he is watching, I drop you back at the house after we eat and head west like I’m going to the ranch. But I’ll circle back, pick you up at the junction of Burnt Mill Road and the highway as long as you can give him the slip, which I know you can do.” He smiled at her but she didn’t smile back. “And if he’s not on our tail, we hit it, hard, immediately. On the road, if you feel exposed, you can hide in the bed of my truck. It’s covered. Only until we get to the city. We’ll fly out of Texas and never look back. Or, if we have to, we drive like maniacs through Oklahoma.”

  Vivian hesitated. “Sounds risky, dangerous. Jim’s smarter than you think.”

  “You saying you can’t pull it off? All you have to do is lose him, if it comes down to that. You could do this blindfolded. You ain’t afraid, are you?”

  “Screw you.” She didn’t want to go along with Tony but she didn’t have another idea to throw back at him. “Let’s get home,” she said. “Go over this again. I may not have a choice. I don’t like that but I guess I can’t do anything about it.”

  . . .

  Back at the house, Tony babbled for more than an hour about his so-called strategy to escape Kilroy and Big Jim and then live happily ever after on Vivian’s stash. To shut him up, she led him to the bed and turned his brain to mush with her usual skill and creativity. When they finished with the sex, she offered him the bottle of Jim Beam. He chugged a shot, curled into a ball, and fell asleep in less than two minutes. Through it all he missed that she was thinking about something else.

  She lay in darkness, repeatedly going over every detail of what her next steps had to be. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow, she knew that much. When she was satisfied with her vision, she used her training to make her body sleep for one hour. She eased out of bed at three forty-five a.m., threw on fresh clothes, stuffed protein bars, water, gloves, a hat, and other essentials into her backpack. She lifted Tony’s gun belt from the coat hook where he kept it. A little after four a.m. she slipped the truck keys out of Tony’s jacket and silently left the house.

  She’d worried that Tony would hear her start the truck. The diazepam in the bourbon would help keep him in dreamland. Good thing Tony had a pharmacy in his bathroom’s medicine cabinet. Same old Tony. As an extra precaution she jabbed the left front and rear tires of the Crown Vic with her knife. She mounted the pickup and began her trek.

  She drove without headlights. She expected to confront Big Jim at every corner. Her head moved from side to side and her hands gripped the steering wheel tight, too tight. She stopped at an intersection. Vivian breathed in as much air as her lungs would hold, then slowly let it out through her nostrils. She returned to the lessons she’d learned from hours of grueling practice and training. Focus on the goal; awareness of all obstacles; clarity of action; endurance of mind and body. She took three more deep breaths.

  She could handle Big Jim or any other Texas cop.

  When she was sure that no one followed her, she flipped on the lights and sped to her money.

  . . .

  Big Jim grabbed Tony’s ankles and dragged him from the bed. Tony woke up when his head bounced on the carpet. He sat up on his haunches, nude and disoriented. Big Jim slapped him.

  “You sonofabitch! You let her go. Where the hell she goin’, Garza? Where the hell did that bitch run off to? Where’s the goddamn money?”

  Several slaps and minutes later, Tony Garza realized what had happened and what Big Jim wanted. He struggled to pull on his jeans and then his boots and, finally, a shirt.

  He managed a complete sentence. “She’s going after her Crystal Q take.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. And where might that be, you shitbird?”

  “How the hell should I know? She never told me. I was waiting to get it out of her, then I’d arrest her. But you spooked her and now she’s—”

  Big Jim slugged him, no slap this time. Tony fell back on the bed. Blood leaked at the corner of his mouth.

  “Don’t give me any of that horseshit,” Big Jim said. “You was gonna run off with that black piece of ass and her money. Except she played you like the sucker fish you are and she run off herself with your truck.”

  “What? My truck? No!” He ran to the window. The empty front yard taunted him. “Goddamn her! I’ll kill her, I’ll—”

  Big Jim raised his fist and Tony shut up.

  “Listen to me. We have to find her. If you wanna keep your sorry ass out of prison, you have to help, so you’d better come up with somethin’. I’m not gonna take any heat for letting one of the Crystal Q gang slip through my fingers, ’specially since she was bangin’ one of my officers. You’re gonna help and we’re gonna find her or your next stop is the Walls Unit at Huntsville. That’s a whole other existence, Tony. You’ll have fun there. Bet on that.”

  Tony rubbed his eyes. He spat blood on the carpet and shook his head. He clutched the Jim Beam bottle, held it to his lips, stopped, shook his head again. He drank water from the kitchen faucet.

  “She can’t have been gone long,” Spencer said. “I found your door wide open and you still smelling like you had her pussy all over your face. Where she goin’? You spent days with her, you must have some idea. What did she do while she was here?”

  Tony needed time. He had to play this right or he would end up in his own private hurt locker. “When did you first suspect her?” he asked. “Last night at the bar? I told her to stay home but she wouldn’t listen.”

  Big Jim laughed. “You sorry… No, not last night. I saw her days ago runnin’ out in the boonies along the dry creek bed. In the dark, early, like four or five. I start my rounds before the sun comes up. Insomnia paid off, finally. She was headin’ back to town so I watched her. You could’ve shot me and I wouldn’t have felt it when I saw her run into your shack. I thought for sure you’d brag about your girlfriend. But when you didn’t say nothin’ about her, I figured she was someone I had to know more about. That’s quite a young lady you’re mixed up with, Tony. Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

  Tony shrugged. “She’s a friend from long ago. What else can I say?”

  “Oh, no apology necessary. I’ve seen what that kind of woman can do to a normal, if not too bright, man. You’re just human, Tony.”

  Tony shrugged again.

  “A dumb human, no doubt. So dumb you’re probably on your way to prison.”

  Tony slumped against the bedroom wall. He tried to think.

  “She’s got quite a rep, as far as cops go,” Big Jim continued. “Took a couple of days to pin down who she is. There’s not much about her in the national database but what there is says she’s a pro. I put two and two together and came up with the millions stolen from Harrington. I figured you two would make a run for it tomorrow, do a Bonnie and Clyde when you were supposed to be drivin’ up to the Crystal Q. I come by tonight just to double check. That’s when I saw your open front door.”

  “You’ve had Vivian in your sights all along?”

  “I know everythin’ that goes on in Kilroy. No way you could’ve kept that
hot cup of chocolate hidden from me.” Tony nodded. “But, enough of this. You’re gonna help me find her. That is, if you wanna try to salvage the rest of your two-bit life.”

  “Why didn’t you arrest her?” Tony asked. He answered his own question. “The money.”

  Big Jim grunted.

  Tony straightened up. “We should follow the creek bed, look for tire tracks. She ran out there every day, you know that. She must’ve been checking up on her stash. There’s got to be something out there where she hid the money, maybe buried it by a rock formation, or in an empty rattler’s nest, or—”

  “Or a hole in the dirt,” Big Jim interrupted. “Big enough for a box of money but not much else.”

  “You know something like that?”

  “The Cueva Guzman. Guzman’s Cave, but it ain’t much of a cave. I’d forgotten all about it until now. About four miles up the dry creek. Don’t know how she found it. You can’t see it until you’re almost on top of it and it’s mostly a shaft hundreds of feet straight down. But it’s the perfect spot to hide somethin’.”

  “Let’s go.” Tony reached for his department-issued gun belt with the holstered .45. The naked coat hook made him curse Vivian again. “I need a gun,” he said. The two men glared at each other for a few seconds.

  “I need a gun,” Tony repeated.

  Big Jim nodded. “There’s an extra in my car,” he said. “Don’t try anythin’, Garza. I got no qualms about puttin’ down a dirty cop, particularly one allegedly workin’ for me.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Don’t you get trigger-happy. Remember, we’re on the same side.”

  . . .

  Big Jim handled his Tahoe PPV with the light touch of a water buffalo. The two men bounced and jerked as Big Jim swerved over, around, and through concrete-hard ruts, massive cactus, and half-buried boulders. As he drove, Big Jim explained that the cave was an opening in a low-lying ridge that allowed for two men to enter, but within ten feet it narrowed so that only one man could fit along the rocky floor. After a few inches, the shaft dropped suddenly and dangerously into blackness.