Time To Hunt

by David Archer

  Haggard grimaced but said, “His name is James Cabot. He—he hired me a while back to try to set up a kind of competition for Morgan’s drug operation, see if maybe I could move some stuff for him and make some fast money. It was just some pot and a few pills, nothing big, but I got told real quick that if I didn’t stop, something bad was going to happen. I went back to Cabot and told him I was out, and that was the day that dumb-ass tried to kill the kid.”

  Noah looked at him for a moment, then reached a decision. “So, you’re a drug dealer? Why didn’t you just go work for Sneed, if you wanted money?”

  There was another grimace. “I used to,” he said, “but Ronnie got it in his head I was stealing money. I wasn’t, but he wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say about it, and he kicked me out.” Noah noticed that the dots still did not change, indicating that Haggard was telling the truth. “I been trying to find work for the last couple months, but nobody would hire me for anything that could really make a buck, till Cabot offered to let me try to move some product for him.”

  “So, you think Cabot is the one who hired Benny?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Haggard said. “Benny, I’ve been knowing him for a few years, and he’d buy any dope off anybody. I know he bought some off Cabot, because Sneed cut him off a while back over not paying when he was supposed to. Hell, I sold him some myself a few days before all that.”

  Noah took out his phone and dialed Morgan’s number, motioning for Haggard to stay where he was.

  “Rex?” Morgan said as he answered the phone. “Everything okay?”

  “Jimmy, Justin Haggard just flagged me down out here in the country,” Noah said. “He claims he had nothing to do with hiring Benny, but that it was a man named James Cabot who was trying to muscle in on your drug territory. That name sound familiar?”

  “I know who Cabot is,” Morgan said. “You think Haggard could be telling the truth?”

  “I’ve always been pretty good at telling when somebody is lying to me,” Noah said, “and I get the feeling Haggard’s telling me straight. How do you want me to handle this?”

  Morgan was quiet for a moment, then spoke up again. “Haggard is worthless,” he said. “Unless he’s willing to give up Cabot, like in helping you kill the bastard, then just put a bullet in his head. If he’ll help, then tell him I’ll give him one more chance. He’s not very bright, but he’s strong as a damned ox. I can always use him out at the yard, if nothing else. Think you can handle it?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Noah said. He ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket. “Jimmy said to tell you that if you’re willing to help me get Cabot, he’ll give you one more chance with him. You might have to go work out at the junkyard, but at least you wouldn’t be dead. What do you say?”

  Haggard swallowed hard. “I know where he’s staying,” he said. “But, Mr. Madison, if he figures out I’m helping you, then he’ll kill me faster than Mr. Morgan would.”

  Noah smiled. “He can’t kill you if he’s dead.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Cabot, according to Haggard, was living just a short distance across the state line in Shell Knob, Missouri. He was known to be a fairly large player in the drug business up around Springfield and Joplin, and had apparently decided to try to move farther south.

  “He’s got several people at his house,” Haggard said. “I was up there once, and he had like five guys just hanging around, every one of them packing.”

  “Just tell me how to get there,” Noah said. “I’ll handle it.”

  Haggard gave him directions, and Noah made him repeat them twice so that he was certain he could remember them. When he was sure he knew the way, he asked, “Did you have a phone number for him?”

  “Yeah,” Haggard said. He pulled out his phone, moving very carefully as he did so, and found the number in his contacts. He read it off to Noah, who added it to his own.

  “Here’s my number,” Noah said, scribbling it down on a scrap of paper and passing it to Haggard. “You call me tomorrow and I’ll let you know if it’s safe to go see Jimmy. Until then, just try your best not to run into anybody who might want to score on you. Just about any of Jimmy’s people might figure killing you would get them some brownie points, right now.”

  Haggard took the number and got back into his car, and the man was gone only seconds later. Noah watched his taillights as they rolled north, then took out his phone once more.

  “Babe?” Sarah asked as she answered the call. “Why aren’t you home yet?”

  “Something came up,” he said. “I need to go and handle a situation for Mr. Morgan. May take me an hour or so, so keep some of that spaghetti hot for me, too.”

  Sarah sighed. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “Okay, baby,” Noah said. “I love you.”

  The smile was audible in her voice as she repeated those words back to him, and then the phone went dead.

  Noah climbed back into the Charger and started it up, then spun it around and pointed it north on the two-lane blacktop. The house Cabot was staying in was only about thirty minutes away, but Noah decided to push the car and get there more quickly. It was only about twenty-two minutes later that he actually found the place, a big Victorian-looking house on one of the roads that worked its way around Table Rock Lake.

  The sun was getting quite low, and there were lights on in the house and around it. Noah cruised past it sedately, trying not to draw attention from the two men he could see obviously standing guard near the base of the front steps. The house sat back about a hundred yards from the road, amidst a stand of trees. By the time he’d gone an eighth of a mile, it was invisible to him once again.

  He traveled for another mile, then found a place to turn around and headed back. He stopped just short of where he would be visible to the guards and took out his phone. He scrolled through the contacts quickly until he found the one he had just added earlier for Cabot, then tapped it with his thumb.

  “Yeah,” a gruff voice answered.

  “Mr. Cabot?” Noah asked.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Mr. Cabot, this is John Mackey. I was wondering if you might be at home this evening. I’ve got something I think you might want.”

  “John Mackey? I know you?”

  “Not yet, sir,” Noah said, “but I’m hoping you might have an opening for me. See, I’ve got a little piece of video that I think you might want to see. You know who Justin Haggard is?”

  There was a moment of silence and then, “Yeah, I know him. What’s this video about?”

  “I sort of got some video of Justin Haggard telling Jimmy Morgan that you were the one who hired that junkie to try to kill Ralphie. I’m about fifteen minutes from your place on the lake, and I was wondering if I could bring it by and let you see it.”

  “That big son of a bitch,” Cabot said. “You know where I live?”

  “Yes, sir,” Noah replied. “Like I said, I can be there in about fifteen minutes if you’re there.”

  “I’m here. You get on up here and let me see that. We’ll talk about a job while we’re at it, okay?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll be there shortly.” Noah ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket, then put the car back in gear and let it idle slowly toward the house. He had turned off his lights and reached down alongside the seat to turn on the infrared display. The image of the road ahead was projected onto the inside of the windshield, which allowed him to see clearly even though the sun had finally dropped low enough that the trees made it dark.

  Noah turned into the driveway of the house a few seconds later, and the two guards suddenly focused on him. He reached down alongside the seat and pressed the first button, and the cross hairs appeared on the video screen. Noah reached up and tapped on the image of the guard closest to him, then squeezed the trigger button on the steering wheel.

  He held it for a full second, and a hail of 9 mm bullets shredded the guard. The second
man was scrambling to aim a gun his way, so Noah tapped the screen again and squeezed the trigger once more. The man dropped like a stone, but suddenly two others came rushing out the front door of the house.

  Noah reached down beside the seat again, pressing the second button that activated the high-explosive shotgun. The cross hairs changed color on the screen, and he tapped the image just beside where the two men were crouching down behind a pillar. When he squeezed the trigger, there was a loud bang and that section of the porch exploded.

  Noah tapped again, centering the cross hairs on the front door of the house, then fired again. Another explosion blew out all of the windows on the front of the ground floor, and Noah took his foot off the brake and rushed the car up closer to the house.

  Machine gun fire suddenly came from one of the blown-out windows, so Noah pointed the car toward it. Bullets were ricocheting off the car, flying in every direction as he tapped the screen again. This shot blew out a large section of the walls, and part of the second story began to sag. He tapped the screen again and aimed the shotgun toward the window on the opposite side, and when the explosive round went off, the second floor simply fell downward, sliding forward as the ground floor collapsed completely.

  Noah waited for a moment, but there was no further gunfire and no other signs of life. The remains of the house were on fire, so he turned off the cross hairs, spun the car around, and headed back toward Arkansas.

  As soon as he crossed the state line, Noah took his phone out of his pocket and dialed Morgan. “Problem is handled,” he said. “Apparently, Mr. Cabot was messing around with something that was explosive, because I understand his house just blew up.”

  “Blew up?” Morgan asked, laughing uproariously. “Man, Rex, you have got to tell me how you managed that one. You carrying hand grenades or something?”

  “Didn’t need one,” he said. “Just a few well-placed rounds was all it took. People really shouldn’t mess with things that go boom, you know?”

  Thirty minutes later, Noah parked the car beside Sarah’s and climbed out. He could smell the spaghetti by the time he got to the front door, and his stomach was already rumbling for it.

  “Hey, baby,” Sarah said, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big kiss. “That didn’t take long.”

  “Not very,” he said. “Let’s eat, and I’ll tell you about it afterward.”

  Neil was sitting at the table with his computer and looked up at Noah. “Afterward? What’s wrong with telling us while we eat?”

  Noah shrugged. “I guess I can,” he said. “I just had to go up into Missouri and blow up a guy’s house.”

  Sarah froze in the act of putting spaghetti on a plate for him and turned to stare at him. As it turned out, he had to explain the whole thing before he got his dinner.

  The spaghetti was delicious, and Noah made sure to say so more than once. Neil told him that he’d received a message from Molly, telling him that Allison had spoken with her contact at the CIA but that they had been unaware the mole was a woman. They had no idea who Monique might be, but it had been suggested that her hands might be unnaturally small. Noah stopped and thought about it for a moment, but shook his head. He hadn’t paid enough attention to her hands to remember them.

  Marco pulled in driving a pickup truck while they were still at the table, so Sarah opened the door for him and then handed him a plate. “Help yourself,” she said. “There’s plenty, and you really want to hear what Noah has been up to today.”

  Marco looked at Noah. “Oh-oh,” he said. “Did I miss out on some fun?”

  Noah told the story again, as Marco wolfed down two plates of the spaghetti. When he finished eating, Noah showed him the spare bedrooms and let him choose one, and then he brought in his bags.

  “Man,” Marco said as he sank onto the couch, “that is a long drive. I’m beat.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I felt last night,” Sarah said. “You made good time, though.”

  “Not bad. I had to talk my way out of a speeding ticket, but lucky for me the cop was a babe.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, seriously?”

  Marco laughed and took out his phone, poked at its screen for a moment, and then held it out so she could see. There was a selfie he had taken with a female Missouri state trooper, and it looked like the officer was having the time of her life.

  “Geez, Marco,” Sarah said, “what would Renée think right now?”

  Marco looked at the picture on the phone, then looked back up at Sarah. “She’d think it was a good deal I talked my way out of a two-hundred-dollar speeding ticket.” He suddenly started laughing. “I’m just playing with you,” he said. “I’ve had that picture on my phone for months. I actually dated that girl for a while.”

  “You better get rid of it before Renée sees it,” Neil said. “Women don’t have a great sense of humor when it comes to pictures like that.”

  Marco looked at the picture sadly. “Yeah, I probably should.” He turned his eyes back up to Sarah. “And thank you so much, by the way, because guess what she and I were doing last night. We were looking at engagement rings on the internet.” He shook his head. “I guess I should’ve seen it coming, though. She’s been awfully nice to me, lately.”

  Noah looked at Sarah, then turned to Marco. “Worse things could happen,” he said.

  * * * * *

  Marco rode in with Noah the next morning, letting out a low whistle when he saw Morgan’s house.

  “I do declare,” he said, already in character, “dat be one big fancy house. You sure dey gon’ let me in dere?”

  Noah smiled at him. “Just be cool, Aubrey,” he said. “Believe me, you’re gonna fit right in.”

  They climbed out of the car and walked past the two men standing watch outside, who all but saluted Noah and watched Marco like a pair of hawks. Marco stopped just in front of them and looked from one man to the other.

  “What you think,” he said, “you don’ never see a big Cajun before? Wait till I get settle in, I gon’ make some gumbo what make your mout’ think it die and go to heaven.”

  “Aubrey, come on,” Noah said, standing at the door. “He’s with me, guys, he’s cool.”

  The two security men looked at each other, then shrugged as Marco walked past them and up the steps. Marlene was just opening the door when he got beside Noah, and Noah introduced him.

  “Marlene, this is my friend Aubrey, from Louisiana. Aubrey, this is Marlene, and she’s a better cook than you’ve ever seen.”

  Marlene grinned. “Rex, any friend of yours is welcome here,” she said. “Breakfast is still on. You boys want some?”

  Marco made a show of sniffing the air. “Mon ami,” he said, “do dat be bacon I smell on de air?”

  Marlene burst out laughing as she pushed the screen door open. “I guess that’s my answer,” she said. “Come on in, boys, there’s plenty.”

  She let Noah lead Marco to the dining room, where Jimmy and Ralph Morgan were sitting with Scott Forney and another man Noah didn’t know. Morgan looked up and smiled, a slice of bacon in one hand and a forkful of scrambled eggs in the other.

  “Hey, Rex,” he said. “This your buddy?”

  “Yes, sir,” Noah said. “Aubrey LeBlanc, I’d like you to meet Jimmy Morgan. Mr. Morgan is my boss, and he’s the one who said I could hire you.”

  Marco stepped forward and bowed low. “Mr. Morgan,” he said, his accent thick, “I do be one grateful son of a bitch. My frien’ Rex, he tells me you a good man to work for, and I be yours to comman’.”

  Morgan laughed. “Hell, we need to get him to teach manners to the rest of the boys. Good to meet you, Aubrey. Now grab a squat on a chair and let Marlene bring you a big plate of eggs and bacon.”

  “Oh, Boss Man, you don’ gon’ have to tell me twice, no!” He pulled out a chair and sat down, then picked up the cloth napkin that was lying on top of the plate in front of him and tucked it into his shirt like a bib.

  Morgan was s
till laughing, so Noah pulled out a chair and took a seat, himself. He laid the napkin to the side as Marlene carried a huge skillet full of eggs into the room and started scooping them onto their plates. She was back a moment later with a plate of bacon and set it on the table between them. “Eat up, boys,” she said. “There’s plenty more if we need it.”

  Noah and Marco dug in, and Marco’s face made it clear that he was enjoying one of the best breakfasts he had ever had. The conversation around the table was mostly about Noah’s encounter with Justin Haggard the night before.

  “So, how sure are you that Haggard was telling you the truth?” Morgan asked.

  “I’m certain, now,” Noah said. “I had him give me Cabot’s phone number and called the guy. I told him I had video of Haggard telling you that Cabot was the one who tried to have Ralphie killed, and he didn’t deny that it was true. He just wanted to see it, and then he wanted to hire me to kill Haggard.”

  “Okay, so what happened?”

  Noah had prepared for this question. “Cabot was living in this big fancy log cabin up on the lake, but he was stupid enough to have somebody making meth in the basement. I snuck up and snooped around, found that out and spotted the big propane tanks, so I just backed off a ways and started pumping bullets into them until they blew up. Took out the whole house and everybody in it. I stayed around long enough to be sure there were no survivors and then split.”

  Morgan had stopped chewing, and his mouth was hanging open. He stared at Noah for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Holy crap,” he said. “Rex, you absolutely blow my mind. I don’t know anybody else who would’ve thought of that.”

  Noah shrugged. “He had several people in the house, and I know at least some of them were armed. I didn’t want to get into a shootout, so it seemed like the best move.”

  “Whatever, it worked. Now, as for Haggard, I said I’d give him another chance if he cooperated, and he did. I’ll put the word out this morning that he’s not to be touched, and we’ll get a message to him to come see me at the yard this afternoon. Like I said, he strong as an ox. I can find somewhere to put him to work.”