by Carey Lewis
“You want to tell me who I answer to now? All these people out of the way?”
Hector didn’t say anything. He watched Cesar stand up, smiling. “The people come from Florida looking for Pablo,” Cesar said, “you got to ask yourself why they’re looking for him. He gives them something that’s why. Now I’m going to give it to them. That’s how you do business. They won’t be coming for revenge.”
Cesar went over to Pablo and wiped down Huey’s gun before placing it in the dead man’s palm. Stood up again and was looking around. “Pablo comes in,” Cesar said, talking to get it straight in his mind, “shoots the one in the kitchen, comes inside and gets it from Motley. The two come in after him, the one shoots this one, turns to Motley and hits him but Motley gets a shot in. He finishes Motley off before the other comes in and gets this one up here.” Cesar looked at Hector.
“Just hope the cops have your imagination.”
“Now we’re to it ain’t we?”
“Where I got to give you an answer I already told you?”
“Whose side you on.”
“I already told you I’m on yours. Not that there’s sides left.”
He watched Cesar smile, nodding. “Until you ain’t.”
Cesar was right. Hector would be on his side until he could get to that tree where Huey put the other gun.
“I WANTED TO ASK IF your pants felt looser once you took all that iron out,” Hector said.
“Still got the big gun in there holding them up,” Cesar said, patting his dick through his pants. Hector looked over from the drivers seat, smiling and laughing a bit. It was good seeing Hector smiling, more relaxed, like they were back to normal.
“Was surprised seeing you put them all in there, they all fitting. Reminded me of those old guys all pile in those tiny cars, got the funny hats.”
“Shriners,” Cesar said. “Those red hats got the balls on them? Called a fez.”
“Like the kid from That Seventies Show.”
Cesar loosened up a bit too. Had the Glock resting on his leg instead of pointing it at Hector. He was sure he wouldn’t need it now but wanted to keep it out just in case. It felt good in his hand. It wasn’t the Colt but it was a weapon that still felt nice.
“I’m thinking you’re right,” Hector said. “What you said at Motley’s? I think you’re playing this right.”
Cesar looked at him, saw Hector glance over while nodding his head. He couldn’t help but smile. “What I got to do now is call Huey. Get him over to the house, start doing the wiring.”
“You still trusting him to do that?”
“You get burnt once I think you learn your lesson,” Cesar said, pulling out his phone and dialing. “He was saying something about heat building up in there from the lights. Hook up what we got now get the exhaust all set up while we wait for the rest to come in, get ahead of the curve.”
“Got the barn set up all comfy. All that furniture from the bunker. Gets too hot down there we just chill out up top, keep a watch out.”
Cesar pulled the phone away and hit a button. “Went to voice-mail.” He put the phone back to his ear. “What I’m hoping, I hope he had the sense to go to the farmhouse, start unloading what we picked up already.”
“Huey ain’t got enough sense to make change,” Hector said. “What you should be doing is thinking about when you want to be done with him. Only so much stringing him along you can do before he snags you on something.”
The line went to voice-mail again. Cesar took the phone from his ear and held it in his hand, the fist pumping slightly against his thigh. “I got a list of problems already I’m worrying about Huey’s at the bottom of.”
“Where’s the TV star fall on that list?”
“Next.”
“Don’t need him no more. You wanted him for money and cover your ass with Motley. Don’t got a use for either now. Something to think about.”
“I’ve thought about it.” Cesar was thinking about Hector being himself again, questioning everything he planned, not trusting him to do things right.
“And?”
“I think I want his money.” Cesar looked at Hector and smiled. “I’ll tell you something else, Huey better answer his goddamn phone.”
“THIS ISN’T MY HOUSE.”
“Could be. They got a couch over there by the window. Some nice chairs, magazines. You read Huey?”
Huey looked up from the coffee in front of him to Carter, sitting across the table. They were in a coffee shop. It was dark, the lights dimmed down, the sun making it’s way through the glass wall at the front. It was meant to be cozy but Huey found it weird.
“You want I can take you where your home’s going to be. It’s not as nice as this. You know where I’m talking about?”
“You’re not a Marshal.”
“Who told you that?”
Huey stared at him.
“Your buddy Cesar tell you that? You willing to bet your life on it, put it in his hands? That’s what you’re doing you know.”
Huey looked back down to his coffee, his hands cupped around the mug, feeling the warmth.
“It’s three places I figure you’re going. Kirkland was my first thought, a box in the ground was the second. You understand what I’m saying to you? Those are two of the places you’re going to end up because of the company you keep. Look at me Huey.”
He looked up, hoping he was hiding the torment and fear on his face.
“You want to know the third place I think you might go?”
“No,” Huey said, barely audible.
“I’m going to tell you anyway. You’re going in the river. Find yourself in the tummy of a gator just like your friend Randy.”
Huey shook his head, trying to stop his face contorting. “No,” he said, lowering his gaze back to the coffee. His phone rang.
“You didn’t know? Thought maybe Cesar would’ve told you to make sure you stay in line.”
“You’re not a Marshal,” Huey said.
“That what you’re going to tell yourself when the gator gets a hold of you? Drags you down to the bottom of the river, the two of you rolling around in the mud down there? So black you can’t see your own hand Huey. Can’t even see the nose on your face. You going to fight off a gator chomping on you? I did some research, you want to hear it?”
“No,” Huey said, coming out as a whisper.
“You’re eating a steak, you know how much pressure you’re biting with? About a hundred-fifty, two hundreds pounds a square inch. You watch those nature shows, see the lion ripping apart a gazelle? That’s about a thousand pounds.”
“Please stop.”
“A salt-water gator? They clock in at thirty-seven hundred. That’s three-thousand-seven-hundred pounds of pressure on a square inch Huey. Three times and some change more powerful than a lion and you see what a lion does to a gazelle.”
“Please.”
“That’s enough to kill you but they don’t like killing you Huey, not to start. They want to drag you to the bottom, get you struggling. Roll you around down there, feeling your leg already snapped off. Eating away at you while you’re drowning. And it’s not just the one Huey. Another one’s going to come and take an arm. Another take a bite out of your belly. The whole time you’re alive, you’re screaming but you’re just getting your lungs full of mud you’re kicking up. All that happening and you’re only ten feet under. Ten feet away from someone saving you but they don’t know you’re there.”
Huey’s phone rang. He took it out and looked at it, declined the call.
“That’s where Randy is. You know that right Huey?”
He stared at his coffee and saw something drop into it. Huey realized it was his own tear. “You’re not a Marshal,” he said, surprised to find his voice choked up.
“Than what am I Huey? Besides the only hope you got?”
The phone rang again. Huey declined the call once more. He said, “You did Randy’s bail.”
“Tell me what happened. Where i
s he Huey? What did Cesar do?”
Huey shook his head. It was violent this time. His face holding in all the pain, red, tears running down his cheeks.
“Tell me where Randy is Huey. Tell me and I go away and leave you alone.”
The phone was ringing again. Huey flung himself to his feet, the chair kicking out and sliding on the floor behind him. “I don’t know!” Huey screamed, leaned over the table. Then he answered the phone and walked away, toward the exit.
“Where the fuck you been?” Cesar asked.
“What’s up?” Huey asked, sniffling.
“You drop that stuff at the farmhouse?”
“What stuff?”
“Are you serious Huey? Are you fucking serious right now?”
It hit Huey that he forgot about the hydroponic equipment they bought in the backseat and trunk of the Town Car. “Jeff said he’d call the cops if I didn’t return the car. Thought you wouldn’t want them around.”
“What you think that fat fuck’s going to do he finds all that shit in the car? Jesus Huey. You can’t be this dumb.”
“You feed Randy to gators?”
“Huey, I’m going to feed you to the fucking gators you don’t start getting your shit together. What the—”
Huey hung up the phone. He went back inside the coffee shop, walked up to the table Carter was still sitting at, looking up at Huey.
“I need a ride.”
JEFF WAS SITTING IN HIS office when Huey came in. He marched past Reggie and his cousin at the counter and came to the office. It was there Jeff saw his face was red and he’d been crying.
“You’ll get another job Huey,” Jeff said. It was the only thing he could think of to say.
“I need the car back.”
Jeff had no idea what to say. He stuttered trying to think of something.
“You said I had until tomorrow so that’s what we’re doing. I need the car and I’ll bring it back.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“You said I have until tomorrow so I want until tomorrow.”
He wasn’t looking at Jeff. He was so red in the face it looked like a sunburn, standing there in the doorway with his hand outstretched.
Jeff looked out the window and saw Reggie and his cousin standing up, looking at them.
“I need it Jeff.”
Jeff looked back to him, seeing the stained cheeks on his red face. The look of a man ready to blow. He was broken. Jeff reached for the keys on his desk and put them in Huey’s hand. He clasped them in his fist.
“Thank you,” Huey said, never once looking up from the ground. As he turned to leave, Jeff saw the butt of a handgun sticking out of his pants.
Huey walked back through the shop, passed the counter, not looking at anybody. Jeff picked up the phone and dialed Brooke.
“I know I said I wanted the Town Car back but Jesus, what did you say to him?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THEY WERE SITTING IN THE barn, having the German or Norwegian beer, whatever it was, waiting for Huey. Hector was right, they set this place up nice. What Cesar would have to do, get his dogs over here, see how they liked running around all this property.
He felt like a king in there, watching over his kingdom. There was something about sitting out in the open like a redneck, drinking a beer, while his business operated under his feet. He was feeling good, loose. Maybe he’d give Angelica a call, see if she wanted to make it on a farm. Out there on one of those hay bales, under the stars, the cows watching. Tell her he didn’t have a knife, nothing for her to worry about.
Then Huey pulled up in the Town Car. Man looked like death. Face all red and crying. Saying some shit about gators eating lions and gazelles living in the mud. Took a bit to calm him down. Hector trying not to laugh didn’t help much neither.
“It was the goddamn Marshal again,” Huey said. “He’s got me all fucked up.” He was using the back of his hand to wipe at his cheeks, his whole face looked raw.
They got the car unloaded and everything moved into the bunker. Sent Huey to work down there, told him it would take his mind off things. Cesar told him he didn’t have to worry about no gators, he just wanted the kid’s head on straight. “Can’t go letting shit get to you when we’re close,” Cesar told him.
Eventually Huey got settled after they smoked him a joint. Boy’s mind operated funny, wouldn’t go back to normal until it finished what it set out to do. He got himself calm once he started working. Cesar told him to holler at them if he needed a hand. Now he and Hector were sitting in the barn/ living room, enjoying the beer again.
“That one more thing you adding to your list of problems?” Hector asked.
“Man seems to want to volunteer for the list.”
“How much he pay for Randy? He’s the bondsman, maybe you just give it to him and he’ll go away.”
“Was told it was ten. Be awhile before we get that kind of cash flowing.”
“You told the blond family be a week before you go through the house, give them an estimate.”
“Then they got to get the scratch together and pay. No money to them, have to go to a bank or start borrowing from family. Can’t have the bondsman rattling Huey’s cage a week longer. We need him cool.”
“That leaves the TV star.”
Cesar nodded. It was disappointing to him, he wanted to use that money on himself, a reward for his hard work. “Not sure I want to get in the habit of paying off everyone sticks their nose in.”
“How many more bodies you think you can fit in that house? It’d be easier to pay him. Get him to go away.”
“You want to follow him around a bit? See what he’s about? It comes to it, we’ll give him the TV star’s money but it won’t hurt nothing seeing where this guy’s coming from.”
Hector nodded.
“I’ll call him now, get him off the list,” Cesar said. He dug his phone out of his pocket and started thumbing through it, looking for Deacon’s number.
“Ain’t this a thing?” Hector said.
Cesar looked up and saw Hector looking out to the drive. Cesar followed his gaze and watched the Buick SUV drive onto the property, down the slope to park behind the Town Car.
“YOU SURE YOU WANT TO do this?” Brooke asked.
“I’m sure I don’t want Jeff calling the cops and getting involved.” Deacon smiled and stepped out of the SUV, closing the door behind him.
“Just the man I been wanting to talk to,” Cesar said, coming out of the barn with his arms out to his sides. “You know I was just about to call you?”
“That a gun in your pants?”
“Next part is if I’m just happy to see you,” Cesar said with a smile on his lips. He took the gun out of his pants and held it up, not pointing it but flaunting it. “Maybe the answer’s both. Your wife the jealous type?”
“Break her heart more than anything seeing what I’d be leaving her for,” Deacon said. He was stopped in front of the SUV, steps to the right of it. He watched Hector crack open another beer before coming out, staying behind Cesar.
“Maybe Mrs. Gray wants to step out, we can all have a chat about what we’re doing,” Cesar said.
“She’s fine. They got those seats in there that warm your ass she likes.”
“You know what the temperature is out here?”
“That’s what I told her. Tell her she’s in South Carolina, I don’t see a need for them to make it an option in the car, much less her needing them. She says ‘still’ and lets the sentence trail off. Her way of saying I’m wasting my breath.”
“Maybe it’s not her ass needs warming up,” Cesar said. That smile with the gold tooth again.
“Here I was thinking we could do this civil.”
“Maybe she’s right,” Hector said. He took a swig of his beer and a step forward. “Maybe you should be saving your breath. Never know how many of those you got left.”
“You think that’s what people are thinking?” Deacon put a confused look on his
face. “People about to die thinking to themselves they’d be alive right now if they didn’t breathe that one time?”
“You trying to be smart?”
“One of us should try it.”
Deacon could see Hector wanting to attack. Cesar turned his shoulder slightly, almost unnoticeable, and Hector stopped. Here he was smiling with that gold tooth again. “Wasn’t expecting this kind of attitude coming from you. You thinking you’re on TV again?”
“I figured you came to your senses and decided my money wasn’t worth it.”
“Afraid it’s the opposite.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Now you’re going to tell me we’re at an impasse.”
“Why? Because you want me to give you money for something you might not have? I wouldn’t call it an impasse as much as smart fucking business sense.”
It got what Deacon wanted. They all stopped, Cesar thinking while wearing the smile on his face. “You know those people in movies,” Cesar said while dropping his head and taking a few steps forward, playing up the bad ass persona he saw in films. “They say they get stuck in character, start thinking they’re someone they’re not?” He looked up at Deacon, coming up along the passenger side of the Town Car in front of the SUV. “That what’s happening to you?”
“I’m playing the guy who just wants to go home.”
“Then how come you ain’t gone yet? Afraid what might happen?”
“Doesn’t feel finished yet does it?”
“We make a trip to the bank I’ll put you on a plane myself.”
“I don’t think you understand Cesar,” Deacon said, smiling. “You’re acting like you’re giving me a chance here. It’s me giving you the chance. You show me tape of what you got then we can talk. You want to keep playing bad ass on me I’m going to turn your world upside down.”
Cesar turned to Hector who shrugged. Cesar started laughing. Deacon saw it coming, he’d seen this movie too. Cesar turned back to him, and now he wasn’t flaunting the gun, he was pointing it. “You haven’t noticed, I’m the one with the gun.”
“And I’m the one picking up the Town Car before Jeff calls the cops for it. Told him I’d do him a favor and go get it. Huey doesn’t seem of the mind to let it go. Dropped it off and came back for it pretty upset I heard.”
