•••
Mr. Boy took out his phone, dialed, and heard Rindo say, “The fuck you at?”
Just the sound of his voice made her heart start to race. Mr. Boy mopped sweat off his face with his bare arm. Clearly agitated, he did his best to explain what was happening and where they were, but Rindo, the bully, kept interrupting, kept yelling at him. “Put Deanna on.”
Mr. Boy made a face, reached back, and handed the phone to her.
“How you doing, baby?” Rindo said in a breathy voice. “I’ve missed you. Gonna show you how much.”
“I’m fine.” She could hear him do a one-and-one, snorting hard.
“Miss me?”
“What do you think?”
“I hope so.” Rindo paused. “See anyone following you?”
“No, but I haven’t been looking.”
“See anyone now?”
“I see a lot of people. Most of them pushing grocery carts, buying food and shit. Are they, like, undercover law enforcement? That what you’re asking?”
“Hey, listen, I have a surprise for you,” Rindo said, changing the subject, dude could only keep his mind on something for a few seconds when he was high.
Deanna tried to imagine what it was, picturing jewelry, diamonds. He did give her expensive gifts, and she liked that part of the relationship. “I have something for you too.” What she bought at Victoria’a Secret was for him, not her. It was strange, a man needing a sexy outfit to get turned on.
“You gonna tell me?” Rindo sounded high but excited.
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”
“Okay, I see you soon. Give him the phone.” She handed it back to Mr. Boy. “All right, drive to the place. You know what I’m talking about?”
“Uh-huh.”
“See anyone following you, keep going. No one’s on you, park.”
“Where?”
“You listening? Where I just told you. Understand? See anyone, chill till they leave. Feel me?”
Mr. Boy nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Bring my bitch to me, negro.”
She knew Rindo was fucked up, giving Mr. Boy this much responsibility. But it might be a blessing. Jose gets busted, they got nothing on me.
Mr. Boy drove out of the parking lot and turned on the main road. Deanna still wasn’t sure what was happening. “Where we going?”
•••
Nora followed the Range Rover out of the city into the desert, heading for a wall of high dark mountains in the distance. They drove for several miles and Raylan watched the SUV turn and drive down a one-way lane into a small paved parking area in the middle of nowhere. “What’s this?”
“Gates Pass. It’s a trailhead. People come here to hike, and at night to watch the sunset.”
“You think Deanna and Melvin are going hiking?”
Nora shook her head. “No, Mr. Smart Ass. I think someone’s coming to pick them up.”
The paved lane went uphill to another larger parking area. Raylan said, “Wait here, I’ll go check it out.” He got out of the car, adjusted the Stetson, brim low over his eyes, and walked up the hill to an adobe structure where the restrooms were. He stood with his back against the wall, peeked around the corner, and saw a dozen cars including the Range Rover parked in the lot.
Now a minivan arrived and pulled into a space. The side door slid open and four kids jumped out and ran ahead of their parents uphill to the trail. Raylan walked up the paved lane to the parking area, watching a couple of young guys with backpacks put their gear in the bed of an old pickup truck. He was still a hundred feet from the Range Rover when a Jeep that was parked next to it backed out and drove up to the highway.
Raylan drew the Glock, approaching the Range Rover from behind, then coming up on the right side. As he got close, he could see there was no one in it. He had his phone out calling Nora, heard her voice and then static. “Jesus, get up here. They’re in the Jeep.” He didn’t hear anything. “You there?”
Raylan disconnected and tried her again, same result. He ran down to the lower parking area. Nora’s car was gone. He ran up to the highway, looking left then right, but didn’t see her. He tried calling her again. It went to voicemail. “They’re in the Jeep, you see it? Where the hell are you?”
•••
Mr. Boy got out of the Range Rover. Deanna saw him crouching next to the Jeep, running his hand over the top of the left front tire, found the key, opened the door and waved her over. She sat in front this time and put the Victoria’s Secret bag on the floor at her feet.
Mr. Boy’s huge body was crammed in the seat like he was driving a toy car. He went out to the main road and turned left heading back to the city. Jesus, now where was he going?
He’d only been outside for a minute and there were wide arcs of sweat in his armpits and around the front of the tank top where the gold medallion hung on a thick gold chain. Man his size shouldn’t have been wearing a tight-fitting top that bulged around his stomach, or shorts that went below his knees, black socks and black athletic shoes. Deanna could see herself taking him back to the mall, buying him new everything. A “makeover” didn’t quite explain what he needed.
Mr. Boy glanced at her. “Why you looking at me?”
“Where do you shop?”
“Huh?”
“Where do you buy your clothes?”
He seemed confused now. “A store.” It sounded like a question.
“I mean your style.”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t know cause he didn’t have any.
“I’m going to help you.” Deanna could see he didn’t understand, and decided to let it go, give it a rest.
The house they were going to had to be somewhere in the Tucson Mountains. Deanna had never been there, and like most things about Rindo, it was a secret. He wouldn’t tell her where it was. They drove into the foothills. At first there were houses scattered around, but now it was desolate, desert on both sides of the car, a road going nowhere. She wondered if he was lost.
Deanna didn’t want to say anything, embarrass him, but finally had to. “Just checking now—you sure this is the right way?”
“Uh-huh.” Mr. Boy nodded, showing his baby teeth, like dolphin teeth, and that gummy smile. “I show you.”
He turned right on a narrow path barely wide enough for a car that rose into the hills. It was a bumpy ride. There were stands of acacia and sycamore and giant old saguaro up ahead on the mountainside. Then she saw a roofline behind the trees. It was a house and looked like part of the scenery, its muted gray-brown and terra-cotta accents blending in with the background.
When they drove into the yard, Rindo came out the front door in shorts, sunglasses, and sandals, no shirt, sweat glistening on his hairless chest, bald shiny head reflecting off the high hot sun. Deanna got out of the Jeep with the Victoria’s Secret bag and kissed him on the cheek. She didn’t want to get too close, he smelled.
“That all I get?”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
Now his spaced-out gaze was fixed on the bag. “What’s that?”
“Little present. I’ll put it on for you later.”
Rindo turned, glanced at Mr. Boy moving toward them. “The fuck took so long? I talk to you like thirty minutes ago.”
“We were being cautious,” Deanna said, trying to keep Rindo calm. “You can’t be too careful.” She looked down the mountain at the city spread out under the smoggy haze.
“Yeah…can’t be too careful,” Mr. Boy said.
Deanna said, “Hey, you said you have a surprise for me.”
“You want it now?”
“You know how much I like surprises.”
Thunderbird came out the front door smoking a joint, hand over his eyes, blocking the sun like he was saluting them. “Want a hit?” he sa
id, coming toward her, reaching out with the blunt. “It’s some bomb shit called Master Yoda. Smoke it, the Force be with you.”
Deanna shook her head.
“Girl, what’s up?”
Thunderbird creeped her out. She moved closer to Rindo and followed him across the gravel parking area to the garage.
“Okay, ready?”
Now she was thinking he bought her a car. What was it, a Benz, BMW? Deanna couldn’t stop smiling. Rindo pressed the remote and the door started to go up. There was an old car on the left side. Was that it? Then she saw something else but didn’t know what it was until the door was up all the way and the afternoon sun filled the space with light. It was Richard hanging from the rafters, but alive, eyes wild, duct tape over his mouth, trying to talk, making unintelligible sounds.
Deanna felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, felt dizzy, tried to say something, but nothing came out.
“You should see your face.” Rindo turned to Thunderbird. “Ever see someone more surprised?”
Thunderbird was squinting, his stoned eyes almost closed. He pressed the remote and the door started down.
“He’s just a friend. He didn’t do anything.”
Rindo said, “What you worried about?”
“Let him go.”
“You tell him my business?”
“I don’t know anything about your business.”
“I think the man’s police.”
“His name is Richard Gomez. He’s normal—”
“What and I’m not?” Rindo said, cutting her off.
“Will you let me finish? He doesn’t sell drugs or carry a gun, he’s a builder.”
“I think it’s a cover.”
“No, it’s the truth.”
“You want to help him?” He glanced at the Victoria’s Secret bag. “Put that on, show me how much.”
“Promise you won’t hurt him.”
“First, let’s see what you do for me.”
Twenty-One
Raylan was leaning with his back against the stone wall of the Ramada when he saw Nora’s Chevy. He’d been waiting forty-five minutes and was starting to wonder. He got in the car and she said, “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you here. I saw the Jeep pull out and had a feeling. Turned around, went out the entrance and followed them. I tried to call but couldn’t get through. Service is spotty out here. I got close enough to glass the plate. It’s registered to—this’ll surprise you—VIP Limousines, Detroit, Michigan.”
“So, where are they?”
“That way about fifteen miles.” Nora pointed northwest at the Tucson Mountains. “Go into the foothills, drive till you don’t see any houses and keep going.”
Nora turned onto an arrow-straight desert road and gunned it. Raylan watching the speedometer needle climb to eighty and level off. They cruised like this for some time, Raylan studying the desert landscape, seeing the bleak beauty of it for the first time. And then, without warning, Nora hit the brakes. He jerked forward and the seatbelt tightened across his chest. She pulled over on the side of the road. “It’s back there,” she said, turning in her seat, looking at something behind them.
“What is? I didn’t see anything.”
“Where they turned.”
“We should call for backup,” Raylan said. “It’s too big an area to cover with two of us.”
“Phones don’t work out here, remember?” Nora sipped her water. “Gang of armed men show up, we’re going to lose the element of surprise.”
“Regroup, come back tomorrow.”
“Rindo might not be here tomorrow.”
“What’s going on? This doesn’t sound like you. I think you’re doing it for the wrong reason, avenging your friend’s death and risking your own, not to mention mine.”
“I thought you were tough.”
“Being tough has nothing to do with it.” He paused, surprised by Nora’s aggressive attitude. “What’s stopping me are the unknowns. Where’s the house? What’s the floor plan? How many armed men are on the property? What kinds of weapons do they have?” He couldn’t tell her one of his main concerns was bringing her, an inexperienced agent, to a gunfight.
“All right, but we’re here. I’m going to have a look. You can come or not, it’s up to you.” Nora got out of the car and opened the trunk.
It was a bad deal, but he couldn’t let her go alone. Raylan, standing next to the car, lifted the UAV over his head and adjusted the straps. “Okay, but you’ve got to promise me to be cool.”
“I don’t have to promise you anything.” Nora held the shotgun in one hand, stock on her hip, closed the trunk, and glanced at him.
“That’s the way it’s gonna be, huh?” He cradled the AR-15 over his right forearm.
“That’s the way it is.” Nora took off, walking back along the road the way they’d come to a gravel path barely wide enough for a car that went toward two distant peaks. The terrain on both sides was scattered with brush and cactus and rose up to heavy walls of granite.
“Somebody drives in or out, we’re gonna be standing here in the open.”
“You have a better idea?”
Raylan, holding the rifle with both hands across his body, started up the hill, stopped, looked back at Nora. “You coming?”
It took twenty minutes to hike to the top of the rise, Raylan, crouching looking at the other side. The sun was hanging on the mountaintops in the distance. He aimed binoculars at the house below them in the foothills. The Jeep he’d seen earlier was parked in the yard. There was a black dude with a gun stuck in his waistband, standing nearby.
Nora sat next to him on a rock formation, drinking water, black smudges on her sweaty cheeks where the mascara had run. He handed her the binoculars. “I think we’ve come to the right place. Guy down there smoking a joint looks like Demarco Hall.”
•••
Mr. Boy was looking through the telescope watching a furry little dude he thought was a gopher climbing around the hill behind the house. The gopher’d disappear in the green plants and come out, stand on his back legs eating an insect. It was fun to watch. He wished he could live in Arizona all the time. He loved the birds and animals and the cactus. Jose told him the names of some of them.
His job was to make sure nobody snuck up on them. Mostly, though, he looked at things. There were lizards, snakes, and coyotes. One time he saw a tarantula. He thought it was okay. Didn’t know why everybody was scared of them. They minded their business. There were all kinds of pretty birds, too. Mr. Boy wished he could feed them. He made birdcalls trying to talk to them. And they made noises talking back. He told Jose that and Jose said, “What’d you do, hit T-Bird’s one-toke?”
Just before it got dark, he would see bats flying around making little beeping noises. And then at night there were more stars than he’d ever seen in his life, like gazillions of them.
He turned the telescope trying to follow the gopher. It was tough cause the little dude was quick. He wished he were a gopher—not a big fat guy. Being a gopher looked like fun, running around hunting insects, doing anything he wanted. Mr. Boy lost the gopher again, tilted the telescope up a little and saw cowboy boots and it freaked him. The man in the boots held a rifle and wore a cowboy hat. At first he thought maybe the man was a hunter till he noticed the bulletproof vest. Why would a hunter wear that? There was a girl next to him, sitting on some rocks, looking through binoculars, a shotgun across her legs.
He went and told Thunderbird about the two people, T-Bird as usual high on Master Yoda, with little slits for eyes. T-Bird just looked at him but didn’t say anything.
Now Mr. Boy was staring at the bedroom door, hesitating before he knocked. Earlier Jose had said, “When I’m in the room with her and the door’s closed, stay the fuck away. It means I’m knocking off a piece of ass. Don’t bother me less it’s an
emergency.”
He heard Deanna making strange noises that sounded like Jose was hurting her. He knocked a couple times and waited, knocked again and heard him say, “The fuck did I tell you?”
Mr. Boy opened the door. “We got a problem.”
Jose was naked on his back on the bed and Deanna was naked sitting on him. She brought her hands up to cover her tits.
He said, “What’re you doing in here?”
“Two people up on the hill with guns. You better come see.”
Jose stood looking through the telescope for a couple minutes and turned to him. “It’s the marshal from Detroit and the FBI agent. See anyone else? They usually bring a team.”
“No, no one.” Jose wasn’t wearing a shirt and smelled like Deanna’s perfume.
“How do you think they found me?”
He didn’t know. Jose was angry, could see it on his face, hear it in his voice.
“Think maybe they followed you?”
“I switch cars like you tole me.”
“See anyone? Anyone else at the trailhead?”
“Just a family and some young dude hikers.” Oh yeah and there was another one, could’ve been the man in the cowboy hat. He didn’t tell Jose that. He was sweating and all nervous now, felt like he’d done something wrong.
“What did I tell you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“See someone, chill till they leave. Recall me saying that?”
“Sort of.” They had to get out of there, but Jose didn’t seem like he was in much of a hurry. “What do you think we’re gonna do?”
•••
The sun was setting over the mountains. Raylan crouched next to a big cactus, watching the house, an adobe structure surrounded by trees and foliage. He gripped the AR, eyes taking in the scene, taking his time. The air was still. He could feel his sweat-soaked shirt heavy under the vest. Nora, crouching to his left, held the shotgun across her body. She took a bandana out of a vest pocket, dabbed her wet face, rolled it in the shape of a headband, and tied it across her forehead like a tennis player.
Raylan Goes to Detroit Page 14
