Back To The World - James Shaffer

by Near To The Knuckle

  Ed thought some more. “Wait a minute. I’ve known the Piper family a long time. I think they have kin up in Kansas somewhere. I’m sure of it.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Harry asked.

  Ed made a decision. “Tell you what. Pull the guys off the route east and send them to Wichita. We’re gonna catch Tom with his pants down. He won’t know we’re comin’.”

  “Will do, Ed. They’re supposed to check in with me in the next half hour. I’ll let them know.”

  “What do you hear from the guys going west?” asked Ed.

  “They’re due to call in the next hour,” Harry answered.

  “Tell them to call me at this number after you talk to them. You get on those other guys and send them north.”

  “OK, Ed.” Harry hung up.

  Ed put down the phone and picked up his beer.

  “What’s the word, boss?” asked Bryan.

  “I think we got a line on Tom. Things may work out. We’ll see.” Ed sat back on the sofa.

  Bryan was in a vengeful mood. “I’d like to get hold of that son of his. Use that bat on him.”

  Ed relaxed a little. “Things are looking up, Bryan. You’ll have your chance. All in good time, son. All in good time.”

  Chapter Ten

  We hadn’t been on the road long when we pulled off in downtown Tucumcari, New Mexico, at the Blue Swallow Motel. The motel’s blue, billboard–sized neon sign lit up the parking lot in front of an L–shaped building. The word VACANCY flashed on and off in bright, orange letters.

  Darlene pulled in by the office. Before the car had fully stopped, Jamie Sue jumped out and ran into the office. She ran as fast as she talked. She left her door open.

  “Always got to be first,” Darlene said, shaking her head. She opened her door and swung both feet out onto the pavement. Darlene stood and left her door open. The T–Bird’s wings were fully spread.

  I flipped up the lever of the driver’s seat and pushed the back of the seat forward. I lifted my backpack in front of me and stepped out of the car. Though it was evening, the sun–baked pavement burned through the thin soles of my boots. I slung the backpack over my shoulder and turned to Kelly Jo to offer my hand.

  “Why thank you, Jake.” Kelly Jo took my hand and stepped delicately out of the car like a princess alighting from her carriage. I slammed closed the driver’s door behind her, then circled the car and closed the passenger door. The T–Bird had folded its wings for the night.

  I filled out the hotel registration card and signed my new name, Jake Hawkins. I showed the girl behind the desk my driver’s license.

  While she was writing down the license number, I asked, “By the way, where can you get a cold drink in this town?”

  “There’s only one place for that, mister.” She smiled. “The Lizard Lounge. It’s further out on West Tucumcari Boulevard between 8th and 9th Streets. You can’t miss it. Big doin’s there tonight. This town used to be called ‘Six–Shooter Siding’ on account of the railroad, the saloons and the outlaws. There’ll be all kinds of shootin’ and fireworks tonight. Hope y’all can sleep later.”

  “Much obliged, ma’am.” I touched the brim of my hat in a friendly salute as I backed out the office door.

  The three girls were waiting for me by the corner of the office building. We walked off together to find our rooms. Turned out we had four adjacent rooms on ground level.

  I scanned the parking lot. It wasn’t unusual to see cars with Texas plates this close to the state line, but nothing looked suspicious or out of place. I didn’t know how long it had taken for Ed to get out of his restraints or how far he would reach to find me, but somehow I knew his troops would be coming.

  Old Ed had a score to settle, and I figured he’d reach as far as he had to. He’d gotten a lump on the head, which I was certain was nothing new for a guy who’d risen in the ranks of his profession the way Ed had. But he’d been bested and humiliated by two two–bit cowboys. That would be the way he saw it, and that wouldn’t sit well with a guy like Ed. It would gnaw away at his pride.

  My mama told me, “Pride goes before destruction.” Her wise words were my only solace. At that moment, Ed was my worry. I figured he didn’t take much stock in Biblical homilies. I’d told my daddy to stay frosty. I followed my own advice.

  ***

  I got into my room and locked the door behind me. I had to find a place to stash the money. I couldn’t just leave it in the backpack, and I couldn’t take it with me, if we were going out.

  The obvious places were out of the question. I looked in the bathroom. There was a radiator cover flush against the wall on one side. I scoped it out.

  The cover popped off easily revealing a radiator inset into a wall space. It was a design feature, recessed so it wouldn’t take up precious space in the tiny bathroom. The wall space above the radiator was empty. I reached up and felt a ledge behind the front wall made by a horizontal two–by–four.

  I grabbed the backpack off the bed and hurried back into the bathroom. With the door locked behind me, I pulled out the gun and laid it on top of the toilet lid. Then I removed half the cash from one of the bundles and stuffed it in my jeans pocket. I’d need some pocket money.

  I couldn’t just stuff the bag up in the space; anyone looking would see it. I dumped the remaining contents of the bag on the bathroom floor and sorted out the bundles of cash. They fit perfectly on the ledge behind the wall. There weren’t that many. The bill denominations were twenties or larger. I managed to stand the ledger on its end in an empty space next to the cash. If anyone looked up into the space, they wouldn’t see a thing.

  After I replaced the radiator cover, I grabbed the gun and threw my clothes and backpack on the bed. I took out a lightweight jacket, slipped it on, and dropped the gun into the right–hand pocket. I was ready to go. I opened the door and there stood Jamie Sue.

  “You’re in a big hurry, cowboy.” She put a hand on my chest and gently pushed me back into the room. She looked around. My backpack was sitting on the bed. She looked back at me. “I bet you haven’t even showered yet.”

  “Ah, no, I thought we were going out for that cold beer,” I offered in explanation. She closed the door and turned the lock.

  “You know what? My shower’s not working. Mind if I use yours?” She headed straight for the bathroom, not giving me a chance to answer. She paused halfway through the bathroom door. “I’m hot and sweaty.”

  I sat on the foot of the bed. She’d left the bathroom door open a crack. A minute later I heard the shower running. Steam seeped from the crack in the bathroom door and trailed along the ceiling above the bed. I watched it for about two seconds then pulled off my boots and socks. The rest of my clothes fell at my feet.

  Naked, I pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside. I recognized her pink panties sprawled on the bathroom floor. Jamie Sue’s mottled shape bled through the shower door’s pebbled glass.

  I pulled open the door and stepped in behind her. She acted like she didn’t hear me. Her back was to me and her face was upturned toward the water’s spray. I grabbed the soap from the dish and started to wash her back. When I did, she spread her arms, placed each hand flat on the shower wall in front of her and pushed back against me.

  Ignoring the invite, I continued to wash her back. Then she straightened, reached around, grabbed my right hand and guided it like you would a blind man’s. She laid her head back on my shoulder and shouted above the pounding spray. “You missed a spot.” She guided my hand downward. Then she gasped.

  I was right. She was the generous type.

  After her hot shower, Jamie Sue grabbed her clothes and tiptoed back to her room. That’s the way you walk when you’re only wearing a towel.

  ***

  Half an hour later there was a pounding on my door. I stood by the bed with my hand inside my jacket pocket, the Colt’s grip warm in my hand.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s Darlene. You ready?” I recognized he
r muffled voice through the closed door. I strode over to the door, opened it and stepped through. I pulled it shut behind me and twisted the knob to make sure it was locked.

  Darlene and Jamie Sue were wearing matching cowgirl jackets, fringed buckskin, the standard buff color, but Kelly Jo sported a red–fringed skirt. She had to be different, and she was. Her legs, her breasts, and those bright green eyes could stop a train.

  “Ya’ll ready to go?” Darlene asked. “I promised you a hot shower and a cold drink, cowboy.” She headed off in the direction of the T–Bird. We all followed behind.

  “Heard you got your hot shower, Jake?” Kelly Jo was teasing. Jamie Sue smiled sheepishly. She was a talker. I’d known that from the beginning.

  “Where we goin’?” asked Jamie Sue.

  “The girl at the front desk said the Lizard Lounge is the only place to go,” I offered.

  “The Lizard Lounge it is,” said Darlene.

  “Turn west out of the parking lot,” I said. I checked the lot again for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing aroused my suspicion. The weight of the gun in my jacket pocket offered some comfort.

  We piled into the T–Bird, pulled out of the motel parking lot on to Tucumcari Boulevard and headed west into a setting sun that had almost disappeared. Jamie Sue and I sat scrunched together in the back seat this time. To Darlene’s chagrin, we acted like two love birds. Darlene had learned to live vicariously, but she was determined not to like it. Kelly Jo, true to her nature and with the help of a compact mirror, applied the last touches of make–up.

  If you wanted to apply make–up, Tucumcari Boulevard was the place to do it. Flat and wide, it headed straight as an arrow heading true west. The sun had dropped completely below the horizon and, in its wake, left a pink glow in the open sky. It brushed everything it touched in the pastel shade of a young girl’s first blush.

  As Jamie Sue laid her head on my shoulder, I watched the gas stations, fast food joints and hotels drift by. Tucumcari wasn’t anyone’s destination; it was just a stopover on the way to somewhere else. That suited me just fine, ‘cause that’s where I was headed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tom was flush. The sun rose hot in the east and cut hard shadows on the wall over his bed. He’d won big the night before. The A&M game paid five–to–one on a thousand–dollar bet. His nest egg was growing. He couldn’t wait till the bar opened for business.

  He’d left the bar at closing and got a room at the boarding house next door. He’d paid cash. It was just a room, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t home, just a place to lay his head and count his money. Five thousand dollars! He felt good again.

  Tom knew when the streak runs, you ride it to the end of the line. Luck played no favorites. One moment it jumped and spit like a downed high–tension wire; the next, it purred in your lap like a contented kitten. Whatever cards were dealt, you played out the hand. Tom was on top of his game. He felt it. Lucky Lady awaited. Tom grabbed his briefcase and left the room.

  Breakfast was at a diner up the street. He had the full menu of scrambled eggs, bacon, home fries, a side of pancakes with maple syrup, orange juice and coffee. The gambler was hungry. He wasn’t sure if he was feeding the purring cat or himself.

  At 11:00 a.m. he walked into the bar. He knew the Longhorns were playing at noon. His lucky place at the end of the bar was empty. He leaned the briefcase against the foot rail and placed his foot on top of it as he had the night before.

  He was spreading the luck around. Diversify, he told himself. A&M were good, but luck couldn’t wait for their next game; luck was impatient. He called the bartender over, ordered a beer and placed a two–thousand dollar bet on the Longhorns at three–to–one. The bartender brought the beer, set it in front of him, then disappeared again through the doorway behind the bar. Tom sipped his beer and watched the pre–game warm–ups.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ed Wills liked the organization. He’d worked for it for a long time. He’d found a home. The loan–sharking side of the business was his specialty. He’d run it small–time on his own before the organization came along. They’d made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. They’d been insistent in a way that made him all too glad to oblige.

  He’d known the Piper family for years. Tom had even helped Ed out from time to time collecting some debts. For that reason he’d let Tom’s debt slide a little further than he should have. When his drinkin’ took hold, Tom was no good to anyone. He was like a lost ball in high grass, but he was Ed’s lost ball and, ultimately, Ed’s liability. He’d reported it right away to the next rung up the ladder.

  He knew that if you tried solving your own problems without telling anyone, the organization solved them for you —permanently. Openness was their policy. “There are no problems, only solutions,” his boss, Larry, had told him. However, that bit of corporate wisdom didn’t keep Larry from kicking Ed’s ass for carrying Tom’s debt. Ed knew if you played the cowboy, you put the noose around your own neck. He wasn’t about to do that. He was content on his rung of the ladder.

  The organization stretched beyond the Texas borders and into the surrounding states. Its network was solid. The money flowed easily through a conduit of banks and businesses, some legitimate and some, like Ed’s, not so legit. Information, tips, scores, hits, they all made their way through the proper channels, and everyone was in the know.

  Being in the know is important to any organization. That’s why it had an open policy. It fed the fire, greased the wheels of commerce and made everyone’s life a little easier. Ed’s life, for that reason, was about to get easier and more interesting when he answered a call from his boss, Lawrence ‘Larry’ Dobbs.

  “Ed. How you doin’?”

  “Doin’ OK, Larry,” Ed answered. “Just waitin’ on some news from my boys out in the bush.” Larry could be a mean bastard. Ed played it cool.

  “Listen. I may have some news for you. What was the name of that guy you went to collect from, who gave you the trouble?” Larry was a stickler for detail. He knew Larry hadn’t forgotten Tom’s name or the ass–kickin’ he’d given Ed, but he could play the game. He’d been doing it for years.”

  “Piper. Tom Piper. Why?” Ed asked.

  “Dallas got a call from Witchita from a bar in Russell, Kansas. Seems there’s an idiot by that name who signed a chit placing bets on college ball with a minimum thousand dollars a pop. He won the first round last night, and they had to make a five to one payout.

  “This morning he placed a two thousand–dollar bet on another game. The odds aren’t as good, but they’re a little nervous. They called ‘cause they want a guarantee to cover the bet.”

  “Sounds like my guy, Larry. I’ve known the family for years. I think they have kin up in Kansas. You’ll be glad to know I’m already on it. Our guy at the Amarillo bus station got a tip that a guy fitting Tom’s description bought a ticket to Wichita. We got two guys heading up there now. Thanks for the heads–up on Russell. Soon as they call in, we’ll send them on up.”

  “Good. Glad to hear it. The next call I get, I want to hear the problem’s been taken care of. You hear?” Larry gave Ed the telephone number of the bar.

  “I’ll take care of it, Larry.” With that, he hung up.

  Ed called and spoke to the bar owner. He got the name of the bar and its location in Russell. Then he called Harry.

  “Harry, I got some news. Our guy’s in Russell, Kansas.” Ed gave him the information he needed for his boys. “Tell your guys to go to the bar and speak to the owner. Have him point out Tom Piper if he’s there. If not, find out where he’s stayin’ and grab him. Bring him down here. Got that? What do you hear from the guys going west? They haven’t called me.”

  “They don’t have any solid news,” said Harry. “They’ve been checking every wide spot in the road and every truck stop all the way to the New Mexico border. Nothing yet, and they haven’t seen your car.”

  “Damn! It’s probably parked up somewhere out in the desert ri
ght now filling up with sand. Damn! That car was brand–new.”

  “Sorry, Ed.” Harry left a moment of silence for the Caddie, then went on. “The boys say they’ll be in Tucumcari, New Mexico, by nightfall. It’s a decent–sized town. Lotsa bars and motels. If your boy got a ride, he may be holed up there.”

  “OK. Thanks, Harry. Tell ’em to keep lookin’. Give me a call when you got some news.”

  “OK, Ed. Talk to you later.” With that, Harry hung up.

  Ed put down the phone. If everything went according to plan, by the next morning he would be on the way to getting his money back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Lizard Lounge was as advertised: a cowboy bar with all the flashing lights, cowgirl waitresses in mini–skirts and cowboys by the truckload. There were even a few horses tethered at the hitching rail out front.

  Most of the cowboys carried six–shooters on their hips, ready for the night’s festivities. Two cowboys faced off in the street. It was a quick draw contest. At the drop of a hat they both drew and fired. The shots were loud. Neither cowboy fell. Blanks. We watched the next cowboy take his place against the winner then turned toward the bar entrance.

  The board outside the door said the house band, Double Shot, was playing. I paid the entrance fee for everyone, glad my three companions had come to my rescue and given me a ride into town.

  I looked around when we entered and saw no one paying any particular attention to me. I can’t say the same for the three cowgirls. No fewer than six cowboys turned slowly on their barstools and watched my three companions claim a table in a far corner of the room. I squeezed between two of the dumbstruck cowboys at the bar and placed the drinks order the girls had given me.

  “Where’re you sittin’, pardner?” the bartender asked me.