Kill Jill (13 page)

“Because there’s no way he’s going to allow this to sit without calling for backup, checking the scene, taking us to the station, getting all in our business.”

“You can’t just shoot him. He’s a cop.”

“I’m not going to shoot unless he forces me.”

“What happens next?”

“I’m going to tell him what’s really going on.”

“What’s wrong with my story?”

“Tell her,” he says to the cop.

“Gas tanks don’t explode from gunshots, Miss. That only happens on TV.”

“And?” Jack says.

“And you’ve identified yourself as a witness to a quadruple homicide. And implicated your friend here, as the killer.”

Jack says, “We’re lucky he didn’t see the bodies before getting out of the car. Otherwise he would’ve radioed for help.”

“Actually, I
did
call it in,” the policeman says.

“Then you’ll need to radio again.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I’m Jack Tallow. This is Jill DiPiese, Bobby DiPiese’s wife. He hired me to find her, bring her back.”

Jill says, “I don’t believe you’re doing this. What about our plans—”

Jack puts his fingers to his lips and says, “It’s the only way.”

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a card, hands it to the officer. Then he gets his cell phone out, presses a button on it, waits a moment, and says, “Mr. Dee, this is Jack Tallow. We’ve got a situation.”

Bobby DiPiese’s gone by the name Bobby Dee for so long, he can barely remember how to spell his surname. Four hours ago he was happy as a priest with two peckers when he heard Tallow had found his wife, and was bringing her in.

“Call me two minutes before you get here,” he said. “We’ll open the garage door. You’ll pull in, we’ll shut the door behind you. And keep quiet. I don’t want anyone to know about this business with Jill.”

Now Tallow’s calling from south of Kentwood, saying they pulled over to put some gas in the car and had to kill four rednecks and set Jill’s car on fire. Worse, he had to tell a state trooper he was bringing Jill in, which totally fucks up Bobby’s plans for dealing with his errant wife. Unless…

“Who’s the trooper?” he asks.

He hears Jack say, “What’s your name?”

The cop says, “Henry Gauthiereaux.”

Bobby smiles.

Jack says, “Did you hear him, Mr. Dee?”

“I heard. Put Officer Hank on the phone.”

Jack and Jill sit tight as the arrangements are worked out between Bobby and Officer Hank.

“Would you have shot him?” Jill whispers.

“No way. I was bluffing,” he whispers back.

“Because he’s a state trooper?”

“Because I was out of bullets.”

She can’t tell if he’s kidding.

Officer Hank looks at Jack, hands him the phone, says, “Your turn.”

Jack puts the phone to his ear. Bobby says, “Grab one of the pickup trucks and haul ass out of there. Officer Hank’s gonna wait at the scene. His story is he saw flames, drove up to investigate, found a car on fire, a parked pickup truck, and four dead men. End of story. He’ll let the crime scene investigators draw the conclusions.”

“Sounds good.”

Bobby says, “Three people know Jill’s been found. You, me, and Officer Hank, who’s gonna retire a wealthy man if he keeps his mouth shut.”

“Okay,” Jack says. “I’m on my way.”

“With Jill, of course.”

“Of course.”

Jack clicks the phone off, takes a step toward Jill, and all hell breaks loose.

“
Hit the ground and cover up
!” Jack yells, as a dozen shots ring out, simultaneously.

“Jesus!” Jill shouts.

“Who’s shooting?” Officer Hank yells.

“I don’t know!” Jack shouts.

But he does know. The flames in Jill’s car have found his ammunition.

When the shots finally stop, Jill calls out, “Are you all right?”

“I’m good,” Jack says. “You?”

“Yes. Is it over?”

“I think so.”

He gets up, notices Officer Hank’s chest bleeding in two places.

“Shit.”

“What now?” Jill says.

“Officer Hank’s dead.”

“Check to make sure.”

Jack clicks his cell phone on so he can use the screen light to illuminate Hank’s face. When he puts it close, he jumps back, startled to find Hank very much alive.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Hank hisses.

“You need help,” Jack says.

“I’ll be fine. Now drive away, before you fuck up my retirement.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Fuck you both.”

“Wait a minute!” Jill says. “You’re taking me to
Bobby
? After what just happened between us?”

They’re in one of the pickups, thirty miles north of Hammond, ninety miles from Bobby’s plantation outside La Pierre, Louisiana. Jack’s driving, Jill’s in the front seat.

“He’ll
kill
me!” she says.

“I won’t let that happen.”

“He tortures people in the basement.”

“I thought they didn’t have basements in south Louisiana. It’s below sea level, right?”

“Our home’s on higher ground.”

“Are you certain there’s a basement?”

“According to Bobby there is. He used to threaten me. Said there’s a secret entrance, a private underground area that goes back to the slave days. He said he puts people in there and tortures them. And that’s what would happen to me if I ever ran away.”

“Sounds like bullshit.”

“What about the wild hogs?”

“Hogs?”

“He’s got a pack of wild hogs penned up near the Blood River. He tortures people, crushes their legs, dumps them in the hog pen. The hogs tear them apart and eat them.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You think?”

“Yes. But just to be sure, I’ll stay on his good side.”

“He doesn’t
have
a good side, Jack. He’s a stone killer. And he
owns
the police and politicians, as you just found out.”

“He might own Officer Hank and a few others, but—”

“Jack, listen to me. We’re free. Don’t go to La Pierre. Drive to Baton Rouge. We’ll ditch the truck at the airport and have a cab take us to Dallas. We’ll catch a flight to—where’s your lake house, Missouri? Arkansas?”

“Arkansas.”

“Whatever. Let’s get the hell away from Bobby.”

“We can’t afford to piss him off at this point.”

“What do you mean ‘at this point?’”

“We just left a murder scene. If Bobby finds out we’ve run off together, he’ll call Officer Hank and have him turn us in.”

“We’ll be long gone by then.”

“We can’t outrun their radio. If they put out an APB on this truck, they’ll catch us within an hour, put me in jail, and turn you over to Bobby. And I won’t be able to protect you. He might keep you alive till you testify against me, but after that, who knows?”

“I don’t
believe
this! We’ve got something special here, Jack. Don’t take me back there!”

“It’ll be okay, trust me. This is something I’m really good at. When we get there, I’ll figure out a way to save you.”

“He’s got a half-dozen security guys in the house at all times.”

“That’s all?”

She frowns. “This is no time to act tough, Jack. All of Bobby’s goons could wipe their ass with Brutus.”

“Who’s Brutus?”

“The bouncer who beat you up.”

Jack laughs. “You think I couldn’t have handled Brutus?”

“Oh, please. I was there. He knocked you out cold. You couldn’t even walk.”

Jack shakes his head in disbelief.

Jill says, “There’s no shame in it, Jack. Brutus is huge. He fights for a living. All I’m saying, Bobby’s goons are much tougher.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She says, “Are you seriously planning to take me back to Bobby?”

He sighs. “Much as I hate to, yeah.”

“Then do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Find a quiet place to make love to me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious.”

“We’re on a pretty tight schedule. I’d have to cum awfully quick.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“You think?”

“Sex is something
I’m
really good at, Jack.”

Turns out Jill’s right. The entire event takes less than five minutes. Including pulling over, stopping the car, reclining the passenger seat, removing the clothing, doing it, putting the clothes back on, raising the seat, getting back on the highway.

“I’m embarrassed,” Jack says.

“Don’t be. It’s just biology.”

“That’s the shortest biology lesson I’ve ever had,” he says.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As they approach the Hammond exit, Jack says, “What made you do that?”

“Have sex?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanted us to bond.”

“It worked.”

She says, “If Bobby decides to spare your life, maybe you’ll remember making love to me. Maybe you’ll want to do it again.”

“Count on it.”

“Maybe you’ll find a way to come back and save me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing I cheated on Bobby, which is
his
specialty.”

“But you
wanted
to do it, right?”

“Of course! Why would you ask me that?”

“It sort of sounded like you were manipulating me.”

“Seriously?”

“A little.”

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“Tell me.”

“Get me away from Bobby and I’ll manipulate you in a way that’ll put a permanent smile on your face.”

“No problem. But I think you’ve got way too much respect for that old man.”

“I lived with him, remember?”

“Yeah. But I’m trying to put it out of my mind.”

“Me, too, Jack.”

“What is he, sixty?”

“Yes. But don’t sell him short. He’s lethal.”

“So am I.”

“I hope so, Jack. Wait. Why are you turning here?”

“I’ve got an idea.”