“I was going to see you, when I ran across a couple of your friends back there in their all-togethers.”
Gene rolled his eyes. “Those girls are a couple of ring-tailed tooters, that’s for sure. Did you need something from me?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe something new about Tommy Lee might have come to mind, and I figured we could visit for a while. I’ve about run out of ideas.”
A cloud immediately fell over Gene’s face. “Mr. Ned, you know I’d-a called you if I thought of anything else.”
“Well, did you see anybody around his house that you didn’t know before he was killed?”
“Nawsir. Oh, Tommy Lee always had folks over. For some reason I never figgered out, gals seem to like him, but it wasn’t anybody we didn’t know.”
June bugs flew through the headlights of their parked cars, striking the windshields with hard-shelled thumps. Other insects joined the mosquitoes and buzzed in and out of their open windows.
Ned waved a bug from his face. “Have you thought of anything Tommy Lee might have said or done to make somebody mad enough to kill him?”
Gene shook his head. “I done tol’ you. He’s stayed out of trouble.”
“Could he have got to sneaking around other folks’ windows again, and lookin’ in? Maybe some husband or daddy caught him and settled up.”
“Not that I know of, Mr. Ned, ’course I don’t…didn’t…see him all the time. He coulda’ been doing anything for all I know.”
“You think he coulda got into them drugs? Maybe he started selling that stuff.”
“I wouldn’t-a knowed it if he did.”
“Maybe he went hunting with somebody that had a bone to pick with him. You ever think of that?”
“If he did, he didn’t say nothin’ to me about anybody being sore at him.”
Ned took off his hat and put it on the seat beside him so he could rub his head to help him think. The engines idled quietly in the wide darkness between cotton and corn fields. “Well, keep studying on it. I can’t help but feel like we’re missing something right here under our noses.”
“Sure will. Mr. Ned, were them gals still in the water when you left?”
“Most of ’em.”
“You didn’t give ’em no ticket or nothin’, didja?”
“Naw, but I told ’em to get out and git after I was gone.”
Gene looked disappointed for a moment. “They been in there so long, I reckon they’re probably pruney anyways.”
“I didn’t get that close.” Ned shifted into gear. “But the next time they come…visit, you need to take them swimming down at the Rock Hole, where decent folks go.”
Gene waved a hand and depressed the foot feed. “Who said they was decent?”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Griffin had been on Tony’s mind a lot since that afternoon when he stood in handcuffs on the side of the road. The frog gigging trip took his mind off of it only as long as they were floating down the creek. The puzzle of Griffin’s appearance in Vegas resumed the moment they pulled the flat bottomed johnboat onto the muddy bank.
He remembered the sheriff sitting in the restaurant that night in Vegas. Of course the man looked different, dressed in a business suit and tie, instead of his Stetson and khakis. The puzzle was the relationship between Griffin and Best. Tony couldn’t believe his bad luck, running into probably the only man in Texas who knew the same mob boss that put out a hit on him.
Tony’s biggest worry was a simple phone call. If Griffin remembered Tony from that night, he could drop a dime on him and Best would be overjoyed to send a few professionals to his front door.
He had to find out what was going on.
It wasn’t too late when the float was over and Ned picked them up not far from the confluence of Sanders Creek and the Red River. He plucked at Pepper’s wet shirt in the fading light of dimming flashlight batteries. “I can’t wait to hear why you’re all wet.”
She laughed. “It was funny! Mr. Tony thought he got a snake down his back, but it was only a stupid little ol’ lizard.”
She and Top took turns telling the story while they loaded the boat into the back of the truck using Ned’s fresh flashlight. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from this crew.” Once it was secured, the adults squeezed into the cab and the kids once again rode in the back. They dropped Cody off to get his El Camino, and drove on up to the house.
Despite the hour, Miss Becky was waiting when they pulled up the drive. Yellow light from the windows spilled onto the porch when she opened the door and stepped outside. The kids boiled out of the back, shouting stories.
Cody stopped beside Ned’s truck. He reached in and lifted out the ’toe sack full of frogs. “Now the messy part, Mr. Tony.”
“What’s that?”
“We have to clean them before we can be through.”
Tony shrugged. “It shouldn’t take long to wash them off.”
The adults exchanged looks, then burst out laughing. Miss Becky gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Oh, Hon, what Cody means is that we have to cut their legs off and get ’em ready for the skillet.”
He grimaced. “You know, I don’t think I have the stomach for that.”
“It’s part of it,” Top explained. “You have to finish the job.”
Miss Becky gave her grandson a light shove toward the house. “You two go in and wash up. You don’t get to tell adults what to do. Pepper, you need to get out of them wet clothes before you catch double pneumonia.”
They went inside without argument. “Uh, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not stay for this part.” Tony gave them an embarrassed look. “I have a weak stomach.”
For those who lived by the land, the idea of being affected by blood was alien, but no one wanted to embarrass him. Miss Becky hugged Tony. “You go on home and be with that pretty little wife of yours. We’ll take care of this.”
Tony left, but instead of going home, he drove into Chisum.
Chapter Thirty
Griffin lived alone in an older Craftsman-style house on the east side of town. It was after midnight when Tony drove past. Lights glowed through the paper shades. At the intersection, he made a right, drove half a block farther, and parked against the curb.
Inconspicuous in the clothing he still wore after the float trip, and with the .38 deep in his front pocket, Tony strolled down the street. The neighborhood didn’t have alleys. The only access was from the front. When he reached the house, the street out front was empty, as was the garage. Glancing around to make sure he wasn’t observed, Tony hurried up one concrete strip of the drive and into the shadows under the living room window.
He pushed behind the shrubs growing against the frame pier-and-beam house and peeked through the two-inch gap below the pull down shade. A man sat in a chair with his back to the window. He was obviously not Sheriff Griffin. A woman on her knees in the adjoining dining room rummaged through the lower drawer of a cheap buffet. Their heated voices came through the screen of a partially opened window.
The woman turned and pointed a finger. “You had only one thing to do, and you blew it.”
“Blew it, hell!” The agitated man moved his head in anger. “Our job was to hit the bank, get as much money as possible, and to take box one-thirty-eight and two-sixty-four. It’s not my fault Griffin shorted us on our part of the take.”
“You got the wrong boxes is why!”
He threw his hands in the air and leaned back. “We don’t know that. We got away with what you said you wanted.”
She stood and put her hands on her hips. “There were supposed to be pictures. That’s what he told us to get, a packet of pictures.”
“Well, we didn’t have much time to stand there and talk to the guy with the keys. He was so nervous I thought he’d fall out, and I punched them boxes as fast as I could
.”
He referred to a homemade device that he learned to use only days before. While she kept everyone in the bank down on the floor, his job was to knock out the locks and find the packet of photos. It was surprisingly simple to clamp the rig onto the box with a steel pin positioned directly over the lock, hit the plunger with a hammer from the bag at his feet, and pop the mechanism.
“Well, there were supposed to be pictures.”
“All right. I believe you, but they weren’t in there. Let’s find the rest of our share of the bank money and go before we get caught. It’s a wonder we ain’t in jail already.” She disappeared into the kitchen. The man shook his head and shifted forward to sit on the edge of the couch. “I’ve already looked in there.”
She came back into the living room after several minutes, her face bright, carrying several packages wrapped in white butcher paper. “I told you.”
“What are you gonna do with steaks?”
“This is the money, you idiot. It might say ‘steak’ on the outside, but he wrapped the bills in this and stored them in his deep freeze.”
The man launched himself from the chair, grabbed one of the packages, and unwrapped it.
She wiped her damp forehead with one hand and carefully patted her hair. “You don’t trust me?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
She shook her head as he thumbed through the sheaf.
He opened another stack of bills. “You think this is all?”
“It’s enough to make up what he owes us for our share.”
Their mood swiftly changed from argumentative to positively happy. He hugged her and she beamed up at him. In the shadows outside, Tony realized their stormy relationship was as full of ups and downs as a roller coaster ride.
The man laughed. “This is a sweet deal. We’re getting paid at least twice for the same job.”
“That bank robbery was a great cover for a couple of lock boxes.”
“You planned it, baby!” He rushed into the bedroom and returned with a pillow case.
She dropped the white packages inside and wiped her hands on her jeans. “All right.”
“Let’s get that last job done and get out of here.”
The woman’s face fell. The man held his hand toward her. “Yeah, I know you think it’s a bad idea, but it won’t take but a few minutes and then we’re gone.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to hang around anymore.”
“It’ll be all right. Griffin wants me to take someone out.”
“Is this for Griffin, or you?”
He nodded. “Griffin. I agreed to do two jobs and I’m going to finish the second, come hell or high water.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “We robbed a bank, broke in a sheriff’s house to steal the money back that he wouldn’t give us because he said we didn’t get the right box, and now you want to do him a favor and shoot someone? Ridiculous.”
He glowered at the woman. “I do have a little honor left.”
This time she threw her head back and laughed. “My God! That word. There’s no honor among thieves. Haven’t you ever heard that before?”
“There is as far as I’m concerned. You might have learned something different, showing your tits in the Carousel Club there in Dallas, but I’m going to do what I said and take the guy out. If you want to stay with me, you’ll do what I say.”
She shook her head and rolled her large, almost almond-shaped eyes. “I thought Jack Ruby was a nutcase when he was my boss before he went and got himself a nice prison cell, but I think I’ve hooked up with someone worse than him.” The words were there, but the look in her eyes told Tony that her interest in the man was deeper than she acted.
“Don’t worry. No one will figure out who we are. I think those stupid disguises worked. Let’s go check in at the Holiday Inn and get some sleep. We’ll do the job and be in Hot Springs before you know it. How does that sound?”
Tony recalled the description of the bank robbers that he’d heard on television. When the couple went through the First National door, they were dressed as conspicuously as possible. The man wore a bright blue suit with a tie painted with a hula girl. His hair was long, greasy, and combed back in a ducktail. A bloodstained bandage covered half of his face. The woman stood out like a sore thumb in a skin tight shirt and black pedal pushers, and hair teased into a blond bouffant.
Now, his face was completely smooth and his hair was much shorter. Hers was also short, brunette, and flipped. They could have been any young couple living in town or traveling through Chisum.
Had they been staying with Griffin? It could explain why they hadn’t yet been found, hiding out with the man looking for them. Tony shook his head at the strategy that didn’t make sense, but worked. That also cleared up the reason why Griffin came north toward Oklahoma. While he sent deputies and police in all directions, those two probably drove right to the house to hide out until things cooled off in Chisum.
Brilliant.
She turned off a lamp. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t care. Shut up.”
They flicked off the last lamp and left. Tony watched the couple hurry down the street to a sedan parked on the next block. Their headlights came on and the car pulled away. Still in the shadows, Tony thought about waiting for Griffin to get home. It would be a simple matter to kill him and leave. He’d done it many times in other cities.
But there was no way to know how long Griffin would be gone, or if he’d even show up before dawn. Standing around only risked discovery.
He left the shadows and walked down the street. A car approached and the headlights split the darkness. He waved and squinted straight ahead, trying not to lose his night vision. Everyone waved in Chisum. There was no way to know if anyone waved back behind the headlights, but he didn’t care. They passed without slowing.
Tony got into his own vehicle and drove home to Center Springs.
Chapter Thirty-one
“Sonofabitch!”
In the dark car, Johnny Machine frowned at Michael. “What?”
“When the headlights hit that guy, the one that waved at us like we’re family, he looked like Anthony Agrioli.”
The Machine looked over his shoulder. “Who’s ’at?”
“Agrioli is one of Best’s lieutenants.”
In the backseat, Nicky looked over his shoulder. “You think Best sent someone else out here for Griffin, too?”
Michael shrugged. “Maybe.”
Nicky couldn’t figure it out. “So he waved at us like he knew we were gonna be here?”
“I guess.” Michael slowed to pass between two parked cars. “I wouldn’t have noticed him until he did that.”
“Where do you know him from?”
“He worked for Nunzio Perfetto in Chicago for a while, before Best called him out to Vegas. I knew him there, and then I saw him a couple of times when I was in the casino. He’s a good man.”
“It can’t be him. Maybe the guy only looks like Agrioli.” The Machine settled back into the bench seat and worried the radio. “I can’t find anything except for this hillbilly shit.”
“No, that was him. I’m sure of it.”
“So what?” Nicky took off his hat and leaned his head back to look through the sloped rear window at the moon. “Best sent someone else.”
“That don’t make no sense.” Michael shook his head. “The Boss wouldn’t fly us out here, then send one of his own men without telling me.”
The Machine was tough and frightening, but his thought processes were sometimes a little slow. “Maybe he’s here to keep an eye on us.”
“I don’t think so. Mr. Best never did that before.” Michael steered around the corner and cruised the block, passing Griffin’s now-dark house.
Nicky unconsciously adjusted his hat on the seat beside h
im. “So what are we gonna do now?”
Michael looped back toward Main Street. “Nothin’. I don’t wanna screw nothin’ up. If Mr. Best sent Agrioli, then he has his reasons.”
“Hey,” the Machine scratched his chin. “Do you think Agrioli already did the hit? Maybe he tapped Griffin and left.”
“Could be.” Michael came to a decision. “We hold off tonight, go back to the motel, and give Mr. Best a call in the morning.”
Nicky sighed. “He ain’t gonna be happy.”
Michael flicked a glowing butt into the darkness. “I ain’t gonna be happy to stay in that stinking Holiday Inn another night, either.”
Chapter Thirty-two
The next morning at breakfast, Tony and Samantha heard a knock on their screen door. Tony left the table and stepped into the entry hall to see past the staircase. The screen diffused a backlit shape and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
Sheriff Griffin raised his hand in greeting. “Good morning.”
Tony waited, the ten feet between them an unsecure cushion. “Good morning. How can I help you, Sheriff?”
Griffin stuck his thumbs behind the hand-tooled leather gun belt and rocked back on his heels. “Can I speak to you, Mr. Agrioli?”
Tony didn’t want to talk to the sheriff, but even more, he didn’t want the man in his house. He crossed the short distance, pushed through the door, and stepped uncomfortably close, intending to push Griffin back.
Instead, Griffin used Agrioli’s momentum and jerked his head toward the car. “Come on.”
Tony found himself following the sheriff away from the two-story house. It made him nervous, because his .45 was on the living room mantle. He didn’t even have the .38 revolver in his pocket that morning.
His nervousness faded when Griffin stopped by his car and stuck both hands in his pockets. “Mr. Agrioli, I remember you.”
“I don’t think we ever met before, Sheriff.” Tony noticed the stubble on Griffin’s cheeks, and his puffy eyes that told a story of little sleep.
Vengeance is Mine Page 16
