Coffee. If Deirdre opened her shop, they’d have good coffee around all day.
When
Deirdre opened her shop…
Goddamn son of a bitch.
He poured coffee grounds into a filter, then put in water and turned the pot on. As he headed back to the main room, he heard the front door open as Chico walked in. At least he wasn’t limping. Much.
“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he growled.
Tom decided not to pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about. Chico didn’t look like he’d appreciate it. “Nothing you could do. Nothing any of us can do. Broadus has taken off and nobody knows where he is.”
“You sure it’s Broadus who’s got her?”
Tom nodded slowly. “I am. Nando isn’t. Or anyway, he says he isn’t. But I’ve got a gut feeling about this. It’s definitely Broadus.”
“So let’s go get the asshole.”
“If I knew where he was, I would. Nando said the cops raided his store and the place where he lives upstairs, but he wasn’t there.”
Chico shrugged. “So-and-so must have some place around here to meet with that bunch of crackers he hangs out with. Find out where it is.”
“You know any of them?”
Chico frowned. Tom didn’t figure he and Broadus’s friends hung out together, judging from Broadus’s oft-stated intention to send anybody with a Mexican-sounding name back to Mexico, whether or not they came from there. “We could check out the Dew Drop or the Silver Spur, see if anybody knows Broadus’s friends.”
Tom shook his head. “We wouldn’t exactly be welcome in either place. And I don’t figure they’d talk to us. Plus they’d probably just turn us in to Nando.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, frowning. He and Chico wouldn’t be welcome, but that didn’t go for other people. He flipped open his phone and dialed.
Docia picked up on the second ring. “Tom. Have you heard from her?”
He closed his eyes. “No. Not yet. Look I need your help. Well, maybe more like Cal’s help. Or Lars. If they can do it without letting the chief know, and maybe not the county attorney either.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. What are you planning?”
Tom laid out the case against Broadus quickly, managing not to use too many obscenities as he did. On the other hand, Docia didn’t seem to be much upset about an obscenity or three.
“Holy shit! That asshole Broadus is behind this? I’ll skin him alive when I find him.”
“You’ll have to get in line,” Tom said dryly. “And we have to find him first. Could Cal and Lars ask around in the Dew Drop and the Silver Spur? And maybe some of the other places around town? See if they can find out who Broadus hangs out with? If we know who his buddies are, maybe they can tell us where their secret clubhouse is.” With the right persuasion, of course, which he and Chico would be pleased to provide.
Docia sighed. “The brothers may not want to do it if it means not telling Erik or Pete, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it myself. And I know some people who’ll help and who won’t tell Pete or Erik. He’s a great chief of police, but he’d want us to butt out.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.” Tom rubbed his eyes. “Thanks Docia.”
“No problem. Just make sure you keep in touch.”
“You too.”
“So?” Chico narrowed his eyes.
“They’ll work on it.”
Clem pushed the front door open so hard that it almost crashed back against the wall. “Anything?”
“Not yet.”
“Shit.”
“Why are you here, Clemencia? There’s nothing you can do.”
Clem put her hands on her hips. “Yes there is. I can make lunch. If we could open last night, we can open for lunch today. Particularly if the guy shows up to fix the window.”
Tom gazed around the room. He’d almost forgotten about opening the Faro and cleaning up after the riot. Other things were suddenly more important.
“We can’t just stop because of this, Tom,” she said gently. “Let’s get the place fixed up and running before she comes back.”
After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
The glass repairman showed up an hour later and spent the rest of the morning reinstalling the front window. The air conditioning had to be turned off, but the light made things inside more pleasant. Bobby Sue and Leon shuffled in an hour or so after Clem, then had several whispered consultations with Chico. Tom figured they were getting the news about Deirdre. Bobby Sue looked shocked, or as shocked as someone who was normally expressionless could look. Leon just went back to sweeping.
The lunch crowd was small, but at least they had one. Tom took up the slack for Deirdre, serving iced tea and coffee along with the occasional beer, and bringing Bobby Sue’s orders out from the kitchen.
Around one thirty, the door opened and Tom watched three striking women walk into his bar—a statuesque redhead, a slender blonde with hair like tarnished gold, and a pixyish brunette. Docia and her sisters-in-law, Jess and Janie Toleffson. None of them were smiling. Tom did a mental head slap. These were the people Docia had used to try to trace Broadus?
Docia shook her head. “Don’t worry. We didn’t tell the guys what we were doing. We didn’t even tell Morgan since she might have divided loyalties on this one. They’ll all find out, of course, but by then we’ll have found her. Knock wood.” She rapped her knuckles on the bar.
Jess Toleffson pulled up a bar stool and sat down, pushing her wispy golden hair out of her eyes. “Unfortunately, we didn’t have much luck,” she said. “I took the Silver Spur lunch crowd, and Docia tried the Dew Drop, but nobody in there knew anything about Broadus. Except he’s a jerk, which we knew already.”
Janie leaned against the bar experimentally, resting one foot on the brass rail. “From what I heard he’s pretty much a Puritan. Doesn’t drink or smoke or take up with wild women.” She grimaced. “Not that Deirdre would qualify. But he probably wouldn’t show up at the Dew Drop or the Silver Spur.”
Tom drummed his fingers against the bar as he thought. “Restaurants, then. Particularly ones that don’t serve booze. Only probably not the Coffee Corral, since Al Brosius keeps that signed picture of Obama next to the cash register.”
“He might have gone to Allie’s, but given Broadus’s views on Latinas, maybe not.” Docia rolled her eyes. “And my guess is he’s even less sympathetic to gays, which means he’d avoid Lee and Ken at Brenner’s.”
“I talked to a few of the people at the franchise places on the highway, not that I can picture Broadus in McDonald’s either,” Janie said. “But none of them have seen him. I also checked some of the local places like Floyd’s and the barbeque out on Highway 16, but no luck.”
Tom smacked his hand flat in frustration. “Jesus, where else is there? Where the hell would the man hang out?”
Across the room, he saw Bobby Sue pause, staring at them. Her eyes widened. He wondered if she was upset by all the cussing.
Docia sighed. “I’ll call Allie. Even if she doesn’t know anything about Broadus herself, she might be able to think of somebody who does. If she comes up with anyone, I’ll check them out and get back to you.”
Tom nodded. “Okay. As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll hit the street myself and see if I can stir anything up.”
“Right.” Jess pushed herself upright again. “We’ll check around at a few of the used furniture stores too. Maybe Broadus’s competitors know something about him.”
He sighed. “Thanks. Good hunting.”
“You too.”
Tom glanced at Bobby Sue again, but she was back to serving her tables.
By two, the room was empty. Leon moved across the floor, sweeping up and collecting dirty dishes. Bobby Sue walked across to the bar, leaning forward so that Tom could hear her soft voice. “Y’all lookin’ for that Milam Broadus fella?”
Tom’s pulse accelerated slightly. He told himself to cool it. “Yeah. He’s not at his store, and we need to find him.”
“You think he’s the one took Deirdre away last night?”
Tom nodded again. “Looks like it.”
Bobby Sue’s jaw squared and she turned back toward the room, looking for her son. “Leon? Get over here.”
Leon stared at her for a moment, then leaned his push broom against the nearest table. “What’s up, Ma?”
Bobby Sue suddenly looked like a woman who specialized in taking no prisoners. For the first time, Tom believed she wasn’t exactly a pushover for Leon and his schemes. “You know where that miserable son of a bitch Milam Broadus holes up out in the country, don’t you? You tell Tom where he is right now.”
Leon gave Tom a hunted look, then dropped his gaze to the floor. “I don’t hang out with them no more.”
“But you did.” Bobby Sue’s voice was relentless. “Once upon a time, you did. And it wasn’t that long ago, neither.”
“But…”
Tom grasped the edge of the bar to keep from grabbing him by the throat.
Chico didn’t restrain himself. He took hold of the back of Leon’s shirt, hoisting him in the air until his toes were dangling. “Where the hell is Broadus, Leon? You tell us now, and I don’t punch you in the face.”
Leon whimpered, and Chico shook him gently, like a dog shaking a puppy.
“I didn’t have nothin’ to do with this, so help me,” Leon whined. “I wouldn’t hurt Deirdre. I ain’t talked to Broadus for a couple months.”
“So just tell us where you used to meet him. No skin off your nose. And we can go find out if Deirdre’s there.” Tom nodded at Chico, who dropped Leon back on the floor.
“Up in the hills,” he panted. “Back beyond Powell’s ranch. He’s got an old house up there. Used to belong to his family.”
Tom leaned forward. “How do we get there, Leon? What road?”
“I don’t know exactly. They’d blindfold us before we went up there—Broadus’s got this thing about keeping the place secret. Thinks the Feds’ll come after him.”
“So how do you know it was beyond Powell’s place?” Chico rumbled, his face dark.
“Wasn’t much of a blindfold, tell you the truth. I could see under it if I tipped my head. You go up on that road that runs by Powell’s pasture for a couple miles or so, then you turn off on a road to the house. Don’t know what it’s called or nothin’, but there’s a big bunch of prickly pear and an old pump right where you turn.”
Tom threw down his bar towel and headed for the door, Chico at his heels.
“Wait a minute,” Clem called, “I’m coming with you.”
Tom turned, stepping to the side so Chico didn’t run into him. “No.”
Clem narrowed her eyes, her chin rising mutinously. She balled up her apron and tossed in on a chair. “Yes.”
“No, Clem. I need you to stay here and be the contact person. Also to make sure Dempsey doesn’t show up, or if he does to call the cops.”
Clem grimaced, then shrugged. “Hell. Okay.”
“Give us twenty minutes,” Tom said. “Then call Nando. Tell him where we’re going and that I hope he’ll head up there too.”
Clem’s lips spread in a dry grin. “You think that’s going to keep him from throwing you in the slammer?”
“Maybe. At this point, I don’t really give a shit.”
Chico hit the door, and the two of them trotted for Tom’s truck.
In the few hours Deirdre had spent at Broadus’s hideout, she’d learned two things. First, that Broadus was just as loopy as everyone thought he was. He’d dropped more than a few hints about what he’d do with the million dollars from her father, most involving the establishment of the Republic of Texas with Broadus himself at the head. He was so optimistic about the future of his own little nation-state that Deirdre almost felt sorry for him. Not that she wouldn’t have pushed him out the window anyway if she’d had half a chance.
The second thing she’d learned was that Seifert was a complete loss as a minion. And that he was considerably more dangerous than Broadus.
Broadus left the house around noon, claiming he was going to leave instructions for the delivery of the million dollars. Deirdre wasn’t sure where he was going to leave them or for whom since her father was nowhere near Konigsburg, but she didn’t argue.
She’d checked the room out thoroughly by then and hadn’t found much that could help her get away from the house. She’d decided she needed to get downstairs somehow. Maybe there she’d find a few more opportunities for escape.
Unlike Broadus, Seifert didn’t leave her alone in her room. He paced back and forth from the window to the door while Broadus walked out to his truck and drove away, glancing in her direction every few moments. Deirdre considered asking him to take her downstairs for a bathroom break, but he didn’t look like he’d be all that accommodating.
He paced to the window one more time and turned, staring at her with narrowed eyes. “You,” he said. “Up.”
“What?”
“Stand up?”
“Why?”
It seemed like a reasonable question to Deirdre, but apparently not to Seifert. He stomped toward her, balling his hands in fists. “Because I said so, bitch. Now get up.”
Deirdre considered reminding him of Broadus’s opinions on the treatment of ladies, but she had a feeling Seifert didn’t share them. And he was bigger and stronger than she was. She stood up, and let him shove her through the door, then herd her down the stairs.
They paused at the bottom as she got her first view of the rest of the house. Not that there was much to see—living room, dining room, kitchen, all of them without any visible charm.
Seifert pushed her into the living room, toward a couch upholstered in faded plaid. The walls were papered in pale stripes of what might once have been flowers but now looked more like inkblots. A fireplace with built-in bookcases filled one wall.
Broadus had loaded the shelves with more dusty antiques. Deirdre did a quick survey, hoping for some guns or at least a bayonet, but all she saw were ancient cloudy bottles, a few buttons and coins, and some round things that looked like rocks but probably weren’t.
“Broadus may think it’s okay to let you run around loose, but if I was kidnapped and I had a chance to walk out, no word of honor would keep me from doing it.” Seifert nodded at an ancient rocker in the corner. “Sit down there.”
Deirdre took a quick breath. “My father will pay you if you let me go. Whatever Broadus has promised you, my father will pay you more.”