by John Bowers
“Dirty? Dirty how?”
“Would you arrest him?”
“Well…yeah, sure. I guess so.”
“You guess so.”
“Look, I can’t give you a definite answer without something concrete. Do you have something on him? Is he dirty?”
She stared at him a moment, then took a step back.
“Are you going to charge me with something? Or can I go home now?”
“Not until you tell me what your connection is to Nick Walker.”
She considered briefly. Blankenship already knew Nick’s real identity, and if he didn’t yet know that Nick was a Federation marshal, he would soon enough.
“I only met him yesterday.”
“I thought so.”
“He’s a United Federation Marshal.”
“You know that for sure?”
“I saw his badge.”
“Anybody can get a badge.”
“His is the real thing. I’ve seen one before.”
“You have? Where?”
“On Terra.”
Blankenship’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ve been to Terra?”
“I was born there.”
He turned in a circle and covered his face with both hands, breathing heavily. When he turned back, his face was a mask of shock.
“You’ve been lying to me since the day we met! Is there anything about you that’s real?”
“Yes. But you’re not going to find out what it is by keeping me locked up.”
“What the hell do you want from me? What did you ever want?”
Her expression softened a little.
“The truth is that I like you, Roger. I always have. But you have a shady side and I’m not real thrilled about that.”
“I’m not shady!”
“No? Then tell me you would arrest Bert Carter if he was dirty.”
“Okay, I would arrest him! Why is that such a big deal?”
“Because Walker is tracking a terrorist, and I think Carter is involved with him.”
“Involved with Walker?”
“No, you idiot, the terrorist! Carter is involved with the terrorist.”
“How do you know this?”
“Because I work for Carter—or I did until yesterday. I know a few things about his operation.”
“You’re talking in circles. What does this have to do with—”
“If Carter interferes when Walker takes down his suspect, I need to know that you will side with Walker.”
“What makes you think Carter will interfere?”
“I don’t know for certain that he will, but Walker’s suspect funnels a lot of money into Carter’s operation, so he may decide to protect that income.”
“Who is this guy, the terrorist?”
She hesitated, then told him.
“Ken Tinker-Smith.”
Blankenship looked as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs.
“Tinker-Smith! Are you shitting me?”
“Roger, you’re a cop. I need to know that you’ll do the right thing. That’s all I want from you.”
He exhaled with puffed cheeks.
“You seem awfully invested in Walker, if you only met him yesterday.”
“Because he’s on the right side, the same side you should be on. Tinker-Smith is a killer and needs to be stopped.”
“How do you know? Maybe Walker is after the wrong guy.”
“No, he isn’t. I checked him out. Tinker-Smith is definitely the right guy. Now tell me whose side you’re on. I need to know. Right now.”
Hardwood – Tau Ceti 4
Nick took the couch again and gave Mijo the bed. In spite of the turbulent day, they both slept soundly. Nick woke at daylight and grabbed a shower, then woke the kid.
“¿Tienes hambre?”
“Yeah. What time is it?”
“Breakfast time.”
Ten minutes later they descended the stairs and stopped at the front desk. The hotel owner was still there, looking tired but alert. His three armed men dozed in various armchairs around the lobby. Blood spatter still stained the wall behind the desk.
“Everything okay here?” Nick asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
“In all the excitement yesterday, I never asked your name.”
“Higgens. Lyle Higgens. And you’re Mr. Jones?”
Nick nodded. He had dropped the alias, but was still checked in as Nick Jones; he saw no point in a lengthy explanation for the deception.
“Has my wife come by this morning? Her name is Victoria.”
“I haven’t seen her. She isn’t with you?”
“We got separated yesterday. I’m sure she’s okay, I just don’t know where she went. If you see her, please tell her that I’m looking for her?”
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Have a good day, Mr. Jones. And thank you for your help yesterday.”
Nick and Mijo returned to Hilda’s Café for breakfast, then crossed the street to the sheriff’s office.
“What we doing here?” Mijo asked. “I don’t like this place.”
“We won’t be long. Just stay by my side and don’t say anything.”
Sheriff Thomas greeted Nick in the outer office. He had changed clothes, but still looked tired. Nick suspected he hadn’t slept much.
“What’s up, Walker?” Thomas glanced at the kid. “Got a new deputy?”
“Yeah, he’s with me today. I’m going to take him home.”
“Good. He doesn’t need to be roaming my streets.”
Nick detected a hint of animosity in the sheriff’s words—Thomas sincerely didn’t like the kid.
“How far is Lago from here?”
“If you take the train, sixty-seven miles. If you take the highway, seventy-one.” Thomas frowned. “Are you bailing out on me?”
“I don’t think I can be that much help at this point, but if my hunch is right, then your murders are probably tied to my investigation. Odds are that, when I find my man, I’ll also find your killer, or at least find out who she is.”
“You still think it’s a woman?”
“I do. But don’t rule anyone out until we’re sure.”
Thomas nodded, disappointment in his eyes.
“Where can I find Lard Davis?”
“What for? I told you, I can get you a car.”
“I changed my mind. I’m betting that Victoria hired Davis, so I need to talk to him anyway.”
“Well, he’s probably at the drugstore. He usually has breakfast at the lunch counter there.”
“Drugstore?”
“I know where it is,” Mijo piped up. “I can show you.”
Nick nodded. He offered Thomas his hand.
“Thanks for all your help, Sheriff. I’ll probably see you later on today, or maybe tomorrow.”
“Take care, Walker. Watch your back.”
Chapter 24
As they strode down the street toward the drugstore, the kid walked with his head up, aping Nick’s walk.
“Where did you learn to speak Spanic?” Mijo inquired.
“I grew up speaking it. My mother was Spanic.”
“¿De veras?”
“Yep.”
“What do you think happened to your esposa?”
“She’s not my esposa.”
“But you told the man at the hotel—”
“I know what I told him. But she’s not my wife.”
“Your novia, then?”
“Nope. Not my lover.”
“Then what is she?”
“Mi abogada.”
“¡Abogada! What you need a lawyer for?”
Nick glanced at him, then grimaced.
“You ask too many questions. Where’s this drugstore?”
“Just up there. Two more blocks.”
They crossed a street and continued walking. Even before they reached it, Nick saw the taxi cab sitting at the curb. It was tilted, as if the pilot’s side were u
p on blocks. Just as they arrived, the door to the drugstore opened and a very large man waddled out.
Nick stopped. “Is your name Davis?”
Lard Davis squinted as he peered at him, a toothpick in the corner of his mouth.
“That I am, yes, sir. And you must be Nick Jones.”
Nick felt a tingle of surprise.
“I am. How did you know that?”
“I was just heading to the hotel to find you.”
“Good news, I hope?”
“Neither good nor bad. Your lady friend asked me to contact you.”
“My lady friend…Victoria?”
“Right. That lady friend. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”
“I’m listening.”
“She hired me to, in her words, ‘explore the planet’. So I drove her as far as Lago, and that’s when she sent me home.”
“Why did she do that? Where is she?”
Davis switched the toothpick to the other side of his mouth.
“She wanted to check out a certain property, and I guess she didn’t want me tagging along.”
“Okay, look—stop telling me the story in bits and pieces. Tell me everything that happened. Don’t leave anything out.”
Davis nodded. He talked for three or four minutes, detailing everything Victoria had done and said from the time he met her the day before until he left her in Lago. Nick was perplexed.
“And when you left her, she told you to notify me?”
“Yes. I went by the hotel as soon as I got back to Hardwood, but you weren’t there. I was just about to try again.”
“What kind of property was she checking out?”
“The Tinker-Smith estate.”
“Tinker-Smith?” Nick felt his scalp prickle. “The Tinker-Smith estate?”
“El castillo,” Mijo said. “I know where it is.”
Nick frowned. “The castle?”
Lard Davis chuckled.
“It sure looks like one. It isn’t quite finished, but it’s a monster building. Probably the single biggest structure on the planet.”
“And who is Tinker-Smith?” Nick already knew, but wanted to hear Lard Davis’s opinion.
The amused glint faded from Davis’s eyes. He glanced up and down the street before he replied.
“Well, interesting that you asked. According to what Victoria told me, he may be the man you’re looking for.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Nothing at first. But I had already concluded that you’re a lawman tracking a fugitive, and after I told her that, she became a bit more forthcoming.”
“About?”
“That you’re looking for a man called Kenneth Saracen. And, from what she told me, he sounds like a match for Ken Tinker-Smith.”
Davis snapped his fingers and turned to his taxi. He pulled open the back door and reached inside.
“Almost forgot. She also asked me to give you this.”
Nick frowned as Davis handed him Victoria’s rifle. Nick took it and briefly checked it over.
“She voluntarily gave you this?”
“She did.”
“Why? If she was about to confront Saracen, or who she thought was Saracen, why would she go in unarmed?”
“Hell, don’t ask me. Maybe she didn’t want to appear threatening. I wouldn’t want to walk up to Ken’s door with a gun in my hand, I can tell you that.”
Nick considered for a moment. Looking at it from Victoria’s point of view, that did actually make sense. What worried him was that she had been so brash as to even attempt to make contact with Saracen. Surely he knew her real identity.
“One more thing,” Davis said. “I kind of hate to bring it up, but…you owe me a hundred taus.”
Nick stared at him. Davis grinned through his whiskers.
“Okay, Victoria owes me a hundred taus, but she said you would pay me.”
“She said that?”
“Yessir. I think she did it just to make sure I looked you up and gave you the message. And the rifle, of course.”
Nick shook his head in wonder. He reached for his wallet.
“All I have is terros.”
“Then it’s two hundred and thirty terros. Round it off to two twenty-five, if that’s easier.”
Nick counted out some cash, then handed Davis two hundred fifty.
“Never let it be said that Nick Jones is a cheapskate,” he said. “The extra is your tip.”
“I don’t need a tip. I’m self-employed. I get to keep all the money.”
“Then call it a reward for being honest.” Nick’s eyes narrowed. “But if I find out you’re not so honest, I’ll want it back.”
Davis guffawed and put the money in his pocket.
“There’s at least one honest man on every planet,” he said. “I’m the one from Tau Ceti. You must be the one from Alpha Centauri.”
Mijo had been listening, swiveling from one man to the other. Now he spoke up.
“What about me?”
Davis tousled his hair. “You’re a scamp, is what you are.”
“Huh? What’s a scamp?”
Nick turned to face the street, his back to the drugstore, putting himself between Davis and the store window.
“Don’t be obvious about it, but take a look inside the store,” he told Davis. “Do you know the girl sitting at the lunch counter?”
Davis smiled as if Nick had told a joke, his eyes shifting to the plate glass behind him. The lunch counter was clearly visible from where he stood. He nodded minutely.
“That would be Ginny. I picked her up in Lago yesterday after I left your lady friend.”
“Ginny is from Lago?”
“I don’t know, but that’s where I picked her up.”
“You don’t know her?”
“Nope, she’s just a fare. I don’t even know her last name.”
Nick nodded and gazed down the street to his left.
“What about the girl behind the counter?”
“Oh, that’s Michelle Tarpon. She works here.”
“You’re acquainted with her?”
“Sure, known her all her life. She serves me breakfast almost every day.”
“You can vouch for her?”
“Absolutely.”
“What time did you get back to town yesterday?”
“Right around noon.”
“And Ginny was with you?”
“Yessir.” Davis tilted his head. “Why are you asking?”
“Where did you drop Ginny off?”
“In front of the hotel.”
“You said you went to the hotel looking for me. Was she with you then?”
Davis scratched his cheek and frowned. He nodded.
“Yeah. After she paid me, I parked the taxi and went inside to talk to Viola. Ginny was standing on the sidewalk.”
“Did you see her go inside?”
“She was still standing there when I left. She may have gone in after I drove away.”
Nick nodded, then handed the rifle back to Davis.
“Do me a favor, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.”
“Put this back in your taxi, then take Mijo here for a spin. Drive him around town for a couple of laps, then come back here. I’ll pay for your gas.”
“You already overpaid me, so don’t worry about it.” Davis nodded at the kid. “Ready to go for a ride?”
Mijo turned to Nick with a curious stare.
“What about you, Nick? I thought you were gonna take me home.”
“I am, but I have something to take care of first.” He nudged the boy toward Lard Davis. “It won’t take long.”
Davis gave Nick a puzzled look, then opened the car door for the boy.
“And don’t let him play with that rifle,” Nick said.
A moment later, Lard Davis climbed into his taxi, fired up the engine, and drove away. Nick still stood with his back to the drugstore.
As he turned to enter the building, he caught sight of
a familiar face at the end of the block. Billy Stanfield was walking in his direction. He spotted Nick and grinned, then waved. Nick waved back, then stepped inside the store.
The place wasn’t busy. He saw a clerk behind a cash machine and the two girls at the lunch counter. He walked toward the girls. Michelle Tarpon, behind the counter, smiled at him. She looked like a high school senior, probably working her first job.
“Good morning. Can I get you anything?” she asked.
Nick didn’t answer at once. The second girl, whom Lard Davis had said was named Ginny, looked disturbingly familiar. Nick had never met her, but had met a number of girls like her. She looked about nineteen, painfully thin, with wild, unruly dark hair. Her clothing looked like a mismatch of yard-sale garments, wrinkled and ill fitting. Most telling of all, as he stepped past her, was her musky odor—she must not have bathed in a month.
She was sitting on a stool, bent over a burger. Nick walked a couple of feet past her and stopped, facing Michelle.
“Were you looking for me?” he asked.
“What?” Michelle’s smile turned quizzical.
“I heard you were looking for me.”
“No, sir, I wasn’t. Who told you that?”
“You didn’t go to the train station yesterday to find me?”
“No…”
“Or the hotel?”
Michelle Tarpon’s smile faded completely; she stared at him as if he were crazy.
“No, sir. I don’t even know who you are.”
At the mention of the hotel and train station, Ginny froze in her seat and sat stiff as a statue. For all of five seconds, she didn’t move, then panic overpowered her indecision. She leaped off the stool in Nick’s direction, a slender knife in her hand. She came up short as her forehead literally bumped into the muzzle of Nick’s .44, which was pointed directly at her face.
“Drop the knife, Ginny,” he said in a quiet voice. “You’re under arrest for murder.”
Michelle Tarpon leaped back in horror, both hands over her mouth. Ginny stared up at Nick with crazed eyes, her mouth half open as she panted with stress. She still gripped the knife in her left hand.
“Are you going to kill me, pig?” she gasped. “Like you killed all those other girls?”
“You’re goddamn right I will, unless you drop the knife.”
The front door of the drugstore opened and Billy Stanfield stepped inside. His expression turned serious as he saw what was happening, and he reached for his own weapon. In five quick strides he closed the gap until he was standing directly behind the armed girl.
