Authors: Carsten Stroud
“Reed, I have you on speakerphone. Mavis is driving.”
“Damn. Sorry, Mavis!”
“That’s fine, Reed. You want in on this?”
“Yes. I do. Does Charlie know you’re coming?”
“No. But we had a County car cruise by and his truck’s parked outside the ranch house. You have any Kevlar?”
“Yeah. It’s all in my trunk. You want to meet on the perimeter and go in together?”
Mavis looked at Nick.
“No,” said Nick. “Keep your cell on and hang back. You know that old logging run that used to go down to Belfair Mills?”
“I think so. I’ll find it on my GPS.”
“It’s screened from Charlie’s place by the south slope. You can get within a hundred yards on foot. Can your ride take you there?”
“If I have to carry it.”
“Okay. When can you be in position?”
A pause.
“Give me fifteen.”
“We’ll go in. If it looks like it’s going south, I’ll double-click you.”
“Okay. Jesus. Charlie. I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can we. Maybe we’re wrong.”
“I hope so.”
“What about the meet? You wanted to tell me something?”
“We live through this, we can talk about that.”
Danziger was out on his front porch, sitting on a rail-back chair that was tilted up against the boards of his rancher. He had his boots up on the railing and a cup of coffee in his hand. He was smoking a Camel.
He squinted into the sunlight as he watched the big black Lincoln make its way up the long gravel drive to his front door. He had the Winchester leaning on the wall beside him and a small two-way radio clipped to his belt.
He had a pretty good idea who that big black Navigator belonged to and when it got close enough for him to make out who was inside it, he sighed, stubbed out his Camel, picked up the Winchester, and stood up. The Navigator came to a stop about fifty feet away, and Mavis shut the engine down.
The doors popped open. Nick and Mavis stepped out, keeping the doors between them and Charlie. Mavis had her doors lined with Kevlar. On his own advice, Charlie recalled.
So this wasn’t a social call.
“Nick. Mavis. Nice to see you.”
“Hey, Charlie,” said Mavis. “How you doing?”
Nick stepped out into the clear.
He was wearing blue pin-striped slacks and a white shirt. His gold badge was clipped to his belt and his Colt Python was in his holster.
He smiled at Danziger.
“Charlie, can you put that Winchester down?”
“I’m always glad to see you, Nick. You too, Mavis. But right now is a bad time.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I’m expecting company and I don’t believe they’ll be friendly.”
Nick and Mavis worked that out.
“Where’s Coker?”
“He’s around.”
Nick knew what that meant.
They were standing in his sights right now.
“Are
we
the company?”
Danziger shook his head.
“No. Me and Coker, we’ve been having a disagreement with these out-of-town people. We’re just sorta waiting for things to develop. Wasn’t expecting you folks to step into this. I think it would be best if you two either put this off for another day or you came up and sat down and we talked about things. You standing out in the open like that is making me nervous. Come on, for Pete’s sake. You two look like rolling thunder.”
Nick looked at Mavis, who shrugged.
“You know why we’re here, Charlie.”
“Believe I do.”
“Can’t walk this one back, Charlie. Unless you can convince Mavis and me it just isn’t so.”
Danziger pushed his hat back, rubbed his forehead. “Probably can’t do that.”
Mavis seemed to settle into herself. Nick shook his head and fought down his anger.
“Was Coker in on it?”
Danziger shook his head.
“Nope. It was all me.”
“The sniper stuff?”
“All me.”
Mavis had to smile.
“Charlie, you couldn’t hit the backside of a bullock if you were sitting on it sidesaddle.”
Danziger looked up at the hills.
“We can argue about this later. Time is running. If you’re gonna stay, then stay. If you want to get out from under this, then you two oughta pull out now. Might be that when you come back I’ll be dead, which sorta solves the whole thing.”
“We’re not leaving,” said Mavis.
“Then you better come on up the stairs.”
They stood staring at each other for a time. The wind hissed in the long grasses. Somewhere out in a field one of Danziger’s horses stamped and snorted. Nick took a long breath, let it out.
“Okay,” said Nick. “We’re coming up there. Mavis, put your piece away.”
Mavis slipped her Beretta back into her holster and stepped clear of the door.
Danziger set the Winchester down.
Nick and Mavis came up to the top of the stairs. Danziger smiled down on them.
“Well, might as well sit down and have a drink. I’m sure as hell not going to try shooting my way out of this, especially with my friends. What’ll it be?”
“Beer, if you got it,” said Mavis, after a long beat. She sat down on a rocker beside the door. It groaned as it took her weight. Nick leaned against the railing, watching Danziger’s hands, feeling Coker’s gun sights on the back of his head.
It was an uncomfortable sensation.
“Got no beer,” said Danziger, with a lopsided grin. “All I got is white wine.”
“That’s what I figured,” she said. “Other than maybe you have a forty-year-old bottle of lime cordial back there. Sure. I’ll have a glass.”
“Nick?”
“Sure, Charlie. Thanks.”
Danziger fiddled around inside a cooler for a time, came up with a large bottle of Santa Margherita and two extra tumblers. He set them down on the table beside his chair and poured out two brimming glasses. He handed one to Mavis and the other to Nick, and then he refilled his
own. Going back to his chair, he put his boot up on the railing and tilted himself back up against the wall.
He lifted his glass.
“Here’s to perdition.”
“Perdition,” they said.
A moment passed.
Everyone was aware of Coker, of his presence in the air all around them.
“What’s Coker gonna do?” asked Mavis.
“He’s gonna stay where he is until our company gets here. Then we’ll see what happens.”
“Who are you expecting?” asked Nick.
“You ever hear of a Harvill Endicott?”
“We have.”
“Thought you might have. When I heard you two were on that double homicide at the Motel 6, I figured, That’s all she wrote. Better make your peace.”
Mavis and Nick said nothing.
“Poor Edgar. Wouldn’t-a sent him in there, we’d known that Endicott was so damn tricky. Anyway, Endicott burned us in the Wendy’s lot. Me and Coker figure he’ll be along, with a few people.”
“Maybe not,” said Nick. “Endicott checked out of the Marriott last night. Took a cab to the airport.”
“Any record of him flying out?”
“We haven’t looked. Boonie’s on that.”
Danziger winced at the sound of Boonie’s name.
“Boonie know about all this?”
“He does now.”
Danziger winced again, shook his head.
“Damn. He say anything?”
“No,” said Nick, lying through his teeth.
“Anyway, even if Endicott’s gone, we’ll see his people sooner or later.”
The radio in Danziger’s hand squawked twice. Danziger picked it up, thumbed
SEND
.
“Hey there.”
Coker’s voice came back, full of static but clear enough.
“Looks like you’re having a party down there. Give my regards to Nick and Mavis.”
“They heard that.”
“I got a black Mustang coming along the Belfair Mill logging road.”
Nick looked at Mavis.
“Tell him that’s Reed.”
“Nick says that’s Reed Walker.”
“He’s getting out. Has a piece in his hand. Heading for the ridge off to your left.”
Nick broke in.
“Tell Coker not to shoot. I’ll bring him in.”
“Nick is asking you not to shoot Reed. Says he’ll bring him in.”
Silence. The same wind in the long grass, eternal and uncaring. The sound of that big old horse whinnying a long way off.
“Okay. That’s how it is, hah? Tell Nick okay.”
Nick got on the cell.
“Reed?”
“I’m here. I’m not in position—”
“Coker’s got you cold, Reed. Stop moving.”
More silence.
“Shit. Where is he?”
“Reed, that’s Coker out there. Nothing you can do and you know it. Just come on in, okay? Reed. Don’t go crazy. Just walk down the slope and have a glass of wine.”
Coker’s voice crackled and snapped over the radio, a sharp edge in his tone.
“Tell Reed he’s got five seconds.”
“Reed, you have to come down. Put your piece away and come in slow. Coker’s all over you.”
A pause.
“Okay. Goddammit. Okay. I’m coming.”
Reed came down the grassy slope, his hands raised. His face was marked with bloody streaks and he was limping badly. He came up to the bottom of the steps, lowered his hands, and looked at Charlie Danziger.
“Did you do the Gracie job?”
“All by myself,” said Danziger. “Now if you’d slip that pistol out of your holster and set it down on the step, I’ll see if I can persuade Coker not to kill you.”
Reed put the gun down, straightened up, pain flickering across his face as he did so.
“What happened to you?” Mavis asked.
“He jumped off the roof of Candleford House,” said Nick.
“Fourth floor, actually.”
“Why’d you do that?” asked Danziger.
“It was better than staying on it.”
“Well, come on up and take a pew.”
Reed took them all in.
“What are you all waiting for?”
“Company,” said Mavis. “Bad company.”
Coker’s radio crackled into life.
“Okay. We have movement.”
Danziger stood up, looked at Nick and Reed and Mavis.
“You all want to sit this out?”
Nick stood up.
“No. Guess I’m in.”
“Me too,” said Mavis.
Reed stared at his hands, his whole body tight and his mind full of hot wires. He just nodded.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Danziger.
“What happens after?” Nick asked.
Danziger grinned at him.
“My luck keeps running like it has lately, there won’t be any after.”
“But say you make it? What then?”
Danziger looked around at their faces.
“Well, I’m sure as hell not gonna shoot any of you folks. No, I live, guess I’ll take what’s coming.”
“What about Coker?” asked Mavis.
“Well, Coker’s a different story. I doubt he’ll come in peaceful. You guys will have to go root him out, is what I figure. Good luck with that.”
“Why’d you do it?” asked Reed, in a hoarse snarl. Danziger’s smile faded.
“At the time I was angry. Now, I couldn’t tell you. Never even spent a dime of it.”
Reed glared at him.
“Angry? The way you got treated? By State?”
“Cut deep, I’ll admit. I deserved better.”
“So did those cops who died on that blacktop.”
“No argument from me.”
“And Coker? Why’d
he
do it?”
“Coker? He was nowhere around.”
“So you execute four cops? Because you’re bored?”
Danziger hardened up a bit.
“Yeah. And when all this is over I’d be happy to gun up and toe the scratch with you anywhere and anytime.”
Reed was on his feet again.
“Now would be just fine with me.”
“Reed,” said Nick. “Not now. Back off.”
“Nick, this—”
Coker’s radio again.
“Cut the chatter and take up a post, people. I got one man coming down the slope behind the house. Don’t know how he got so close. He’s moving pretty good. Like a recon marine or a ranger. Probably another couple guys flanking in the long grass. They’ll have somebody in the tree line, covering their backs. Remember, they’re gonna have to close with you. They need Charlie alive.”
Reed looked at Nick, tugged out his pistol, and moved into the house, heading for the back door. Charlie handed Mavis his Winchester and pulled out his Colt. He tossed the radio to Nick.
Mavis went inside the house and set up a firing position on Danziger’s dining room table. It had a view out three sides of the house. She assumed that Reed was covering the fourth.
Reed had never been in a firefight. She hoped he’d do okay. In a gunfight, being fast and brave wasn’t as important as being accurate.
Nick dropped onto the ground and moved into the long grass, slipping into it without a sound. He stopped to turn the volume on the radio speaker down to the lowest level. As he did so, it squawked twice.
“Nick, you have a man in the sweetgrass at your six, maybe fifty feet behind you. He’s moving.”
Nick stopped, flattened himself into the grass, and listened. He heard the wind, the ticktock of the sweetgrass blades as they moved against each other. A huge brown toad was staring up at him from a thicket. He had golden eyes and a round white belly. He blinked at Nick, opened and closed his mouth, crossed his forelegs, laced his fingers, went on staring. Nick heard something sliding through the grass. Irregular.
The sound stopped, held for thirty seconds, and then began again. Nick put his Colt into his holster and waited. The sound came again, moving slightly away from him. He moved with it.
There was a pale mound inside the sweetgrass, cream and brown. Maybe ten feet away. It was a man in camouflage fatigues. He had an M-4 rifle, light brown in color, slung across his back.
He had been moving, but now he was very still. Nick figured he had sensed something and was now listening as intensely as a soldier can listen.
Nick stayed as still as the other guy was and waited the man out.
There was a gunshot, the short sharp crack of Reed’s Beretta, and the chuffing rattle of an M-4 set on three-round burst, and then two more shots from Reed’s Beretta.
At the first shot the man in camo began to move. Nick was on him, a knee in the small of the man’s back, his left hand on the man’s chin, his right on top of his skull. He jerked the man’s head back and twisted it sideways. He could feel the spine go, a dull, meaty crack muffled by the corded muscles of the man’s thick neck.