Here Comes the Night (16 page)

Vivian sipped a Bloody Mary as Dell guided the Safari down
State Highway 152. They both preferred to travel on small, lesser used roads,
in spite of their behemoth-sized motor home. The trucks bearing down on the
interstates only annoyed them, constantly interrupting any ability to hang
loose, have a drink or two, and relax.

Hurrying was now something of the past. Back when they
jetted all over the world to any place they dreamed of visiting, they always
felt like they were in a rush. Vivian’s ample trust fund allowed them
destinations most people could only dream of, but gradually the long airport
waits and their tour guides’ heavy scheduling got in the way of their drinking
and using. And especially partying. Now they were exploring North America—their
way.

“After you finish up this court case, let’s head farther north,”
Vivian suggested.

“Where are you thinking?”

“How about Canada?”

“Then on up into Alaska? As long as we’re in the area?” When
she didn’t reply, Dell looked over at her. “You okay, sugar?”

In the space of a few seconds, Vivian’s mood swung from
restless to anxious. She took a big slug of her drink. Then, as she was about
to answer, a choking urge to cry took over. Finally, she nodded her head.

“Come on, honey, what’s the matter?”

After a few moments, she was composed enough to speak. “That
girl last night.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m so sorry she threw up on…”

“No.” Vivian’s reply was sharp. He was always jumping in
without first hearing her out.

“Well. Sorry,” Dell said, a little defensive.

Vivian reached for his arm and stroked it. “No, I’m sorry.
It’s just that I was trying to tell you something…”

“And I finished it before you had a chance,” Dell said.

Vivian nodded. “It’s alright. I do it to you, too.”

After a minute of riding in silence, Dell said, “So tell
me.”

“What was it about her? She was different than most of them.
I don’t think she was into it.”

“You overdid the drugs a little, maybe. She was too out of
it by the time we got going,” Dell suggested.

“It’s not how we handled it that bothers me. It was after I
passed out, I woke up two hours later feeling bad about it. Really bad. I never
feel that way about our fun stuff.” Vivian took another long drink of her
Bloody Mary.

Dell turned to her, puzzled. “You mean…guilty?” After a
moment. “I thought we weren’t ever going to do that.”

“I know, I know,” Vivian said. “It’s silly, isn’t it?” She
finished off her drink, unhooked her seatbelt, and headed toward the back. “I’m
going to top this off. You want one?”

“Okay. Why not?”

A sudden horn blast from the left side of the Safari
disrupted the morning air. Dell glanced in his side view mirror and saw a
Kawasaki motorcycle in the midst of passing them. “Pass if you’re passing,
buddy.”

It honked again as the bike pulled alongside them and then
rode parallel with them, going the wrong way into oncoming traffic. The rider
kept honking every few seconds.

“What the hell?” Dell said.

“What is it, hon?” Vivian asked from the bar.

“Some asshole.” Dell was watching closely in his sideview
mirror.

“I’ll look,” Vivian said and peeked through the left side
picture window curtains.

“Can you see him?” Dell asked.

“Yeah. Some kid.” Then she recognized him. “Dell, I don’t
believe it. It’s that kid from last night.”

“Are you sure? Tony?”

“It’s him. What should we do?” Vivian asked.

“Little bastard,” Dell said after a moment. “Get the gun,
just in case.”

Vivian opened a drawer in an end table and retrieved a .32.
As she was heading back to the front she heard the first metallic ping.

“He’s shooting at my Porsche.” No sooner had Dell spoken
than two more quick shots ricocheted off the sports car. “That fucker.”

He saw Vivian coming up to him. “Stay down, Viv. You got
it?”

She held up the .32. “What should I do?”

“Shake him up. Make him fall back behind us.”

Vivian opened a small sliding window that left only a nylon
screen between her and the motorcycle riding alongside. She shot through it,
trying to scare him off.

The motorcycle swerved, then began to brake and accelerate
in quick succession, making it an impossible target. One thing was clear. Her
bullets were inflaming and energizing Tony.

“Stop that bus and talk to me, you pervs.” Tony fired off
another couple of rounds, which pinged off the motor home’s smooth bronze
surface.

“Do you see what that bastard’s doing to the R.V.?” Vivian
cried. Then she saw Tony swing around and aim directly through her window.

She stared straight into the barrel for a split-second then
hit the floor. “Shit, he’s crazy,” she screamed up to Dell.

“Stay down,” Dell yelled back. “Where is he now?”

Vivian sneaked a look over the top of a chair and saw the motorcycle
pulling back. It trailed alongside at the rear of the bus, still honking
wildly. “He’s behind us for now.”

“Keep your head down and come up here,” Dell said. When she
was beside him, he noticed how flushed she was. “Are you okay?”

“He was shooting right at me,” Vivian said between quick
pants.

“I know, but listen to me now. We don’t want to hurt him if
we can help it.”

“I’d like to blow his smug little head off.”

“Don’t go crazy on me now. We don’t need any grief.”

She knew he was right. Any exposure for them could
potentially uncover a can of worms. “What then?”

“Think you can take a good aim?”

“I think so, yeah.” Her hands were surprisingly steady.

“Try to blow out one of his tires.”

“He’s way back now. I don’t think I can,” Vivian said.

“He’ll come back up alongside again. He’s just recharging.”
Dell checked the side view. “Get back by that window again and see if you can
hit one of his tires.”

“Okay.” She scuttled back to the side window. Sure enough,
he started inching up the side of the Safari again.

“Here he comes. Can you see him?” Dell asked from the front.

“I see him,” she said and rested the barrel of the .32 on
her left wrist. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, her entire body
was turned on, throbbing with excitement. It reminded her of the delicious hum
just before sex.

Then she was pulling the trigger. Once, twice. It was like
watching someone else fire the gun…until she smelled the acrid smoke from the
barrel.

Vivian got so excited she barely heard the scream of the
motorcycle’s brakes as its back tire blew and sent the bike bumping over into
the far shoulder.

She heard Dell yell from the driver’s seat. “You did it. You
did it, baby. He’s veering all over the highway.”

She looked out the window and saw Tony struggling to get control
of the bike. Now he didn’t look so smug. Vivian couldn’t take her eyes off him,
watching him fight in vain to control the bike.

She felt her entire body vibrate and tingle as the
motorcycle shuddered off the road and rolled into a fence.

It fell with a thud, pinning Tony under it.

Vivian heard a cheer from Dell. Heat raced through her as
she hurried up to Dell and stood next to him between the driver and passenger
seats. “That’ll teach him to wear a helmet,” she said, laughing and striking a
pose like a cool femme fatale blowing across the barrel of the .32.

Dell reared his head back and laughed. She hugged him and
kissed his neck.

“You did it. You are one hot Annie Oakley, sugar.” Dell
reached under her blouse and pinched her nipple.

She was breathing so hard she felt high. Vivian unbuttoned
the top of her dress and pulled his hand to her breast. “Pull over. You want
it, too. I can tell.”

“I do, we just can’t stop yet. Not so close to where it
happened.”

She moaned. “I don’t think I can wait.”

Dell was panting as well, rubbing her breasts, feeding off
her rush.

Balancing herself between the driver and passenger seats,
she pulled her dress open. She turned full on to the windshield so any oncoming
cars could glimpse her nakedness. That turned her on even more.

Her body was throbbing. Then Dell moved his hand up between
her thighs. He had barely touched her before she climaxed. She dropped to her
knees, trying to catch her breath.

Angie hadn’t wolfed down food this way since she’d been a kid
and had to eat fast so one of her brothers wouldn’t take it. She couldn’t get
enough of the sticky goat cheese or the salty butter used to cook the omelet, a
treat she never allowed herself. A few minutes later, finishing off the mango
juice, her eyelids started to feel heavy.

The wired feeling she’d had for well over 24 hours gave way
to the warmth of a full stomach. She left her empty plate and crawled into her
recliner, pulling a throw over her legs. She fell asleep within minutes.

She was awakened by Juanita’s timid voice. “Mrs. Wesner?”

Startled, Angie’s eyes popped open.

“Ma’am, a phone call for you,” an apologetic Juanita said.

Angie realized the condolence calls would start coming in,
but she wasn’t ready for them. Not yet. “What time is it?” she asked softly.

Juanita almost whispered to her, as though there were others
around. “Still early, you’ve only been asleep a few minutes. But he says it’s
important. It’s a Mr. Hackman?”

Angie shook her head. She didn’t know anyone by that name.

“He says he is lawyer for Mr. Dearmore?”

Angie snapped to attention. “I’ll take it in the study.
Thanks,” she said, getting up and moving in there. She stared at the phone a
few moments. Finally, she picked up. “Hello.”

 “Mrs. Wesner, this is Terrence Hackman with Fisher,
Hackman, and Gilbert. First, I’m very sorry for your loss, ma’am. And I’m
extremely sorry to be calling you today of all days.”

“That’s alright. What can I do for you?”

“I’m now representing Buck Dearmore. Indigo asked me to
appear at your request.”

Angie was cautious. “Well, since Mr. Dearmore is part of the
bank family, I thought that’s what Gordon would have wanted.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hackman agreed. “I’ve taken care of a number
of bank employees when situations arose.”

“Is he alright?”

“Not really. He has some serious injuries that need
attention. I’ve been working all morning arranging to post bail.”

“You can get him out?” Angie blurted it out in spite of
herself.

“We’ve got a shot. It’s not clear yet if they’re charging
him. The police aren’t far enough along in their investigation. Technically,
they can hold him for 24 hours, but on a Saturday, that would mean the entire
weekend. And I don’t want to see Mr. Dearmore suffer in lockup until Monday
while they take their sweet time.”

“I have to agree.”

“So, I was fortunate enough to locate a judge who knows Mr.
Dearmore’s reputation and, I believe, will feel he represents no flight risk.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But we have a hearing in an hour to set bail. Not much
notice, I’m afraid, but it’s the best I could do given the timing.” Hackman
sounded rightfully pleased with himself.

“Sounds like you’ve jumped on things, Mr. Hackman. What do
you need from me?”

“I’m calling you, Mrs. Wesner, because Indigo suggested you
might help out with the bail money.”

She immediately realized it would connect her with Buck, but
then Gordon had bailed out DUI’s and everything else for employees over the
years, anything to avoid scandal. It was worth a shot.

She kept it businesslike. “Doesn’t someone like Mr. Dearmore
have ready money?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes, but it’s gotten
complicated. Long story short, when his office was broken into last night, they
stole the cash from his safe. At the moment, his liquid assets are nil.”

Angie’s breathing quickened.“Wait a minute. Someone broke
into Mr. Dearmore’s office?”

“Whoever killed your husband not only broke into
his
safe, but apparently robbed Mr. Dearmore’s as well.”

“I see,” Angie said, although she didn’t see at all.
“Exactly why are they holding him then?”

“His Mustang was the car involved in the Candy Myers
incident.”

Angie thought back to seeing the Mustang outside the bar on
Exchange Avenue, with a young woman in the passenger seat. So it had not been
Buck. Angie had been so sure.

“That’s why I’m doing everything I can to get him out,”
Hackman continued. “Now we’ve got this Judge Collier coming in on a Saturday to
help him post bail. But we need to act quickly.”

“
Who
was
driving his car?”

“Nobody knows. Mr. Dearmore was carjacked yesterday
afternoon right after leaving work. They roughed him up pretty bad.”

A total sense of relief surged through Angie. This explained
almost everything. She asked, “Is it the same people who broke into his
office?”

Hackman told Angie the events of the night as he understood
them. When he finished, she was speechless. Hackman ended with, “So you can see
Mr. Dearmore needs some immediate help or else he could be stuck here.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be glad to.”

Hackman told her the hearing was set for an hour later, and
that he could send a bonded messenger for the money if she wished. The fastest
way, however, would be for her to show up with the cash personally.

 
After she hung up, Angie got a welcome second wind.
At last something to do that might help. There was still a chance they could
make it out of this.

There was over sixty thousand in Gordon’s home safe. Angie
took it all out, put it in a bank bag, and moved everything into a roomy purse.
She checked herself in the mirror, still in her jeans and sweater. It would
probably look better if she was in her blue funeral home suit, but she couldn’t
waste time changing.

As she was heading to Cowtown, out of the blue, she
remembered the little waitress who had her grandmother’s cameo. She had given
it to Buck the night of the poker game, for luck. She kicked herself for not
realizing earlier how important that was. If Buck’s car had been stolen, then
that
was how the waitress had come by it. So she had to know about the accident.

The name on the girl’s uniform tag would not come back to
her. Maybe it started with an “E”? She had been right there outside the bank,
too, under Angie’s nose, and Angie hadn’t been quick enough to realize what was
happening. The girl had been as stunned as she at the t.v. news.

After they got Buck bailed out, Angie would head back to the
diner and not leave until she knew how to find her.