Throwdown

by Doug Sutherland

He stayed put anyway. There was a chance the car would pull a one-eighty and pass the motel again, either that or take the turnoff half a mile down the road, the one that looped around and got you back into town that way.

  Hopkins wished he hadn’t gone to the damn window, hadn’t seen what he’d seen or heard what he’d heard. He was already trying to talk himself out of it, tell himself that the guy he’d seen wasn’t Kenny Langdon, that it had been too dark to be sure.

  Langdon was dangerous, very high on everyone’s ‘do not fuck with’ list. Jed knew that he drove a vintage Camaro, even knew that the dope he bought came from him, although never directly. He’d tried getting it that way once, way back, tried to keep it low-key and casual, but Langdon had just looked at him like he was a moron or something, said no. After that he got his dope from whichever one of Kenny’s lackeys happened to be around.

  He might have stayed there for ten minutes or an hour, knew he wasn’t thinking straight. He didn’t have a jacket on, just a denim shirt and corduroy pants that were soaked through with the snow and mud he’d been rolling around in. He was shivering from the cold or reaction or both, and finally he realized nobody in their right mind would come back to the motel after doing what he thought they’d done.

  He heaved himself to his feet, forced himself to walk slowly and keep an eye on the road. There wasn’t a back door to the office so he went around the corner of the motel, the one farthest away from where he’d seen the car pull out. He still hadn’t seen any cars and he finally and reluctantly took a look around the corner, saw the BMW sitting there. It took a few more halting steps in the darkness before he was close enough to see the bodies. That made up his mind.

  He hadn’t seen Langdon at all.

  40

  Sherry had had a bad feeling ever since she’d made the phone call.

  It got worse. She was busy all night humping drinks back and forth but the feeling had persisted, a cloudy presence in the back of her mind that kept her from paying attention to what she was doing. She’d screwed up some orders, even forgotten to give a couple of customers their change. The bar was crowded and noisy, but that wasn’t unusual. She’d become aware of something else, a slowly building susurrus of agitated conversations and a lot of action with peoples’ phones. Something had happened.

  She recognized Angela, a girl she’d known since middle school. She was sitting at one of the tables near the dance floor, and in spite of everything going on around her she was engrossed in the screen of her iPhone. By the time Sherry made it over to her she’d put it away, had gotten into animated conversation with one of the other girls at the table.

  “What’s going on?” Sherry asked.

  “Somebody got shot,” Angela said breathlessly, “you know, out at that old dump of a motel.”

  Sherry felt a cold knot of fear coalesce in the pit of her stomach. She tried to keep her voice even, casual. It didn’t work.

  “Who got shot?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Angela was looking at her strangely, “somebody put it up on Facebook. They were just driving by, saw all these police cars …. ”

  Sherry wheeled around, left her in mid-sentence. She walked back around the bar and behind Saunders, kept on going to her locker in the back hallway and looped her key off from around her neck. Her hands were shaking and it was a struggle to get it unlocked. Finally she did, snatched her purse off the top shelf and opened it, fished out her phone. She hit the wrong button the first time, tried again. All she got was voicemail. She tried to keep her voice steady, left a message for Kenny to call her, put the phone back in her purse.

  She couldn’t wait, couldn’t stay where she was. She snatched her jacket out of the locker, walked back out. Saunders glanced behind him, saw that she had her things with her.

  “I have to go, Ted – I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to say anything, didn`t stop until she’d gotten outside and into her car. She took the phone out of her purse, put it in the cup holder beside her. If Kenny did call back she didn’t want to miss it. She started the car and put it in gear, still not sure where she was going or what she was going to do when she got there.

  41

  Frank was dozing off again when the truck lurched suddenly and slewed over to one side of the road. He heard the ululating wail of a siren gaining on them from behind. He glanced over at Billy, but Billy’s attention was fixed on the rear view mirror. Frank remembered the police cruiser he’d seen parked at the hospital, craned his head back to look. They’d just rounded a long corner, and at first all he could see was the reflection of flashing lights on the dark line of trees at the side of the road. Only a moment later he saw the lights themselves. The cruiser slid wide on the corner and then straightened itself out only to accelerate again. It caught up to them fast, its flashing lights bouncing wildly around the cab of Billy’s truck.

  “Frank!”

  Billy’s voice sounded comically plaintive. The reflection of the lights was blinding. If they came up on a corner Billy wouldn’t see it in time.

  “He doesn’t want us, Billy. Just let him by.”

  “I can’t!”

  Billy was right. The shoulder of the road was slippery with mud and snow, and Billy had already moved over as far as he could without driving into the ditch. The cop driving the car went for it anyway, swerving out from behind them and fishtailing past. It looked like there were two cops inside the car but the combination of road spray and darkness made it impossible to see who they were. Frank expected to see the cruiser slide off the road, but whoever it was – probably Wheelock, from the way he was driving–gathered it up in time to make it around the corner. Frank looked over at Billy, could see him shaking with fear.

  “It’s okay, Billy. You did good.”

  Frank meant it. The asshole in the cop car had nearly run them off the road. Whatever he was headed for wasn’t worth killing somebody else on the way.

  Billy had slowed the truck almost to a stop.

  “You want me to drive, Billy?” Frank asked.

  Billy shook his head, slowly put his foot on back on the gas. Frank was angry now, wanted to follow up and find out what the hell was so important.

  “It better be good.”

  “What?” Billy asked.

  “Nothing, Billy,” Frank hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud, “just wondered where he was going.”

  He didn’t have to wonder long. When they got around the next corner Frank could still see the flashing lights in the distance, but then they veered off on a side road. He could see the tail lights waver as the big Crown Vic lost traction on some slush, but the driver got control again and then the lights disappeared around the corner.

  “See where he went?” Frank asked, “go that way.”

  Billy looked at him, confused.

  “I don’t want to get in trouble, Frank.”

  “You’re not in trouble, Billy. He is.”

  As bad as he felt Frank didn’t like the idea of a police car nearly running a civilian vehicle off the road. He knew that technically he didn’t have the authority to do much about it, but he wasn’t going to let it go either. He’d been a cop too long, and more importantly he’d been Chief too long. He still thought of it as his department, on his watch. Maybe he always would.

  They were coming up on the turnoff.

  “Here, Frank?”

  “Yeah, Billy, here.”

  Billy gingerly swung the old pickup into the corner. He was a tentative, cautious driver, and Frank had to control his impatience. They didn’t have a hope of staying with the cruiser, but if the guy was lit up and travelling that fast he was going to a call and would have to stop then. Either that or he’d end up in a ditch before he got there.

  42

  The fact that two men were dead didn’t bother him. Guilt was never part of the equation with Elway. People killed other people all the time. He’d seen his old man tormented by the IRS until he couldn’t take it anymore and just blown his
own brains out in the garage one night. Elway, all of nine years old, had been the one who found him.

  In the army he’d seen civilians, little kids, old people, you name it, ripped to pieces by ‘surgical’ airstrikes, IEDs that dismembered earnest teenagers from Wyoming or someplace, random gunfire that missed one man’s head by an inch and decapitated the guy behind him. He’d killed people himself who might have been legitimate targets or just somebody’s uncle standing in the wrong place.

  By the time he was thrown out he’d seen it all for what it was. Killing was killing, and the governments and corporations and institutions that sanctioned it just hid behind whoever pulled the trigger, kept their hands clean so they could get the wholesale killing done the way they’d always done it – the long, slow way, under cover of their banks and offices and police forces and laws.

  Elway hadn’t pulled any triggers tonight, but he knew that would make no difference at all. He’d been there, and if he was going to stay clear of the consequences he’d have to keep Langdon clear too. He reached over, clamped a hand on Langdon’s shoulder and shook him.

  “Okay, Kenny, you gotta snap out of it.”

  Elway realized that Kenny had conned him the way he’d conned everybody else. The sudden violence at the motel had stripped away Kenny’s bullshit. He’d panicked, fucked up, and now Elway had to clean up the mess.

  Kenny gave him a blank look, then slowly nodded. Elway wasn’t sure if he was taking it in but he plowed ahead anyway.

  “We’ve gotta get cleaned up. Now, in case somebody comes.”

  They’d come straight back to the farmhouse. Elway thought they had a chance of doing what they had to do if he could keep Langdon responsive and moving. He cuffed Kenny on the shoulder.

  “Kenny, listen to me. I’m going upstairs, I’m gonna strip down and get in the shower. All the clothes we’re wearing right now we’ve got to get rid of. I’ll get out of the shower and then you go right in, do the same thing. Leave your clothes, all of them, in a pile by the door. Scrub down hard but don’t take too long.”

  He saw Kenny’s eyes flash with resentment. Too fucking bad, he thought, but maybe it was a sign that he was coming out of the fog. Trouble was he still wasn’t moving. Elway stepped right up into Kenny’s face.

  “You got us into this, you stupid fuck. Now I’m trying to get us out of it. So do whatever the fuck I tell you to do and we’ve got a chance.”

  One on one Kenny was no match for Elway and he knew it. Elway just brushed past him and headed for the stairs. He took the car keys with him, didn’t look back.

  • • •

  The shower was necessary, the first order of business. It was also an immediate risk. Elway knew he’d pushed Kenny, insulted his pride, and there was no way of telling what would happen next.

  He locked the bathroom door, knew that it wouldn’t hold if Kenny went suddenly apeshit and came in after him. If he did he’d come in shooting.

  Kenny didn’t think he knew about the other guns in the house. Elway still had the two extra guns he’d taken from the motel and Kenny had been so out of it he probably hadn’t noticed. Elway had thought of ditching them, but neither one had been fired and he felt better with them than without them, especially considering what had just happened.

  Kenny had lost it at the motel and Elway couldn’t trust him anymore, at least for now and maybe never. He’d wrapped the two pistols in a towel and taken them into the shower with him, placed them in a soap rack under the shower head and away from most of the spray.

  He turned off the shower, reached for a towel and dried off, then stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around his midsection. He reached across to the soap rack for the bundled guns, unwrapped them enough so he could take one out. He held it down by his side and unlocked the bathroom door, cracked it open. Kenny would have heard the shower shut off and Elway could hear his footsteps on the stairs, saw him an instant later. His hands were empty and Elway stepped back from the door, rewrapped the towel around both guns so it looked like a shaving kit or something. He stepped into the hallway.

  “Your turn,” Elway said, “just dump your clothes in the hallway. Your shoes too. I’ll wrap ’em up. You got a flashlight?”

  Kenny gave him an uncomprehending stare.

  “I need a flashlight,” Elway said, “I gotta check the car.”

  “Uh – yeah. I think there’s one in the kitchen.”

  “Where in the kitchen?”

  “One of the drawers, near the sink.”

  Elway nodded, went back to his room to get dressed. When he came out the bathroom door was closed and Kenny’s clothes and shoes were heaped in front of it. Elway gathered everything up with his own clothes and went downstairs.

  He didn’t know how much time he had. He found a garbage bag in the kitchen, stuffed everything into it. He left it on the kitchen floor, took a quick trip into the basement looking for anything flammable. He found some paint and some paint thinner, some WD-40, then went back upstairs. He was breathing hard in spite of himself, remembered the flashlight at the last moment before he lugged everything outside.

  The fire was first. Another calculated risk. He didn’t have time to go wandering around looking for a place to set it. If the cops pulled up and saw the fire–fuck it, it was cottage country. Burning shit outdoors was what people did.

  He shuffled toward the shed, looked for the old fire pit in the back. He nearly tripped over some rocks and knew he’d found it. He dumped the clothes and shoes out of the garbage bag, then went into the shed to see what else he could find.

  • • •

  Kenny hurried to get changed and head downstairs. He knew Elway still had the car keys and he didn’t want to leave him alone too long. He went out the kitchen door, saw a fire already burning unattended in the back yard. He looked down the driveway, felt relief when he saw the Camaro sitting there. The driver’s side door was open and the interior lights were on. He didn’t see Elway until he got closer, saw him stretched across the front seats on his stomach.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Elway glanced back at him.

  “I’m almost done here.”

  He saw Elway’s right shoulder move back and forth in a sawing motion, heard him grunt with the effort. A moment later Elway backed out of the car. He had a folding knife in one hand and some strips of upholstery and carpet in the other.

  “Get the flashlight and close up the car,” he said.

  Elway walked back up toward the fire. Kenny stared into the car, speechless. The passenger side seat and part of the carpet were torn to ratshit. Kenny leaned in, took the flashlight off the seat, then slammed the door. He was pissed off that Elway hadn’t asked, but he saw the logic in it.

  • • •

  Elway was already standing by the fire when Kenny got there.

  “Blood?” Kenny asked.

  “Traces of it,” Elway said, “we’d have to burn the fucker out to be sure. To do that, you’d have to report it stolen. Problem is we can’t move the car. We don’t have time and we don’t have another vehicle. We get rid of it too close – you got away with that once already. Twice is too much. I cleaned things up pretty good at the motel. We just have to hope it works.”

  “Uh-huh. Now what do we do?”

  “We wait and we keep stoking that fire until there’s nothing left.” Elway said, “ either the cops will show up or they won’t.”

  They both heard the car approaching at the same time, looked back along the darkened road. Headlight beams swung around the corner at the bottom of the turn. A moment later Kenny barked a nervous laugh.

  “Relax,” he said, “it’s just Sherry.”

  Elway had already recognized the car.

  “Get down there,” he said, “take her in the front door. She doesn’t need to see the fire.”

  Kenny shot an angry glance at Elway but kept his mouth shut, started walking down the driveway to meet her as she pulled in and shut off the engine.
She exploded out of the car, got right up in Kenny’s face.

  “What did you do?” she demanded.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I heard about the motel. It’s all over town by now!”

  “What is?”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Kenny – I’m not stupid!” she was apoplectic, “you ask me to call you when those two guys were going outside and then they get shot?”

  “Nothing to do with us,” Kenny said blandly, “we talked to ’em out in the parking lot, scared the shit out of them. Then we came back here. We’ve been here all night.”

  He’s good at this, Elway thought. Bullshit had always been Kenny’s strong point, and from the look on Sherry’s face he could tell she wanted to believe what Kenny was saying. She stood frozen in place, her eyes searching Kenny’s. She had to know Kenny better than he did, had to know he was lying. Elway started to move, get closer to where the two of them were standing. If she didn’t buy it he’d have to do something, stop her from leaving. It all depended on whether her feelings would blind her

  to the truth. He could see her wavering. Kenny saw it too.

  “Honey,” Kenny’s voice was almost comically soothing, “do you think Dan and I would just be hanging around here if we’d done something like that?”

  Elway could see her mind working, almost hear it. She glanced toward the back yard.

  “What are you burning?” she asked.

  “Just some old shit we don’t need anymore,” he shrugged, “Come on, honey, it’s freezing out here. Come inside and have a drink. You’re all wound up.”

  For a moment Elway thought Kenny had her. Then she turned away and her eyes met Elway’s. She saw something there, shook her head.

  “No,” she said, “I can’t. I’ve got to go back and help Ted close up for the night. If he hasn’t fired me already.”

  She was already moving, in a hurry. Kenny just stood there, indecisive. Another moment and she’d be gone.

  Elway couldn’t take the chance.