American Crow

by Jack Lacey

  ‘I heard the dealer owed them some money by the way, hence their visit here...’

  Tug nodded slowly taking in the new information.

  ‘Okay, I get that bit. The bum owed money to lots of people. But going back to the truck…There were no bodies found in the wreckage. I mean where in the hell was the driver? We can’t trace him at all. Did you get a name, know where he went exactly?’

  ‘No, he wandered off with some chick and said that he would be back later. He never returned...’

  Tug looked at me confused.

  ‘He just left his rig there with all your stuff in it, is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘No, he locked it up saying that he’d be an hour or two. So I went and grabbed some food. But the bikers turned up and it all kicked off suddenly. I ended up taking the Somalian guy to the Fairview Hospital on Riverside as he was bleeding so badly. We took his car. You can check the CCTV footage there if you don’t believe me.’

  Tug placed his coffee down on the dashboard.

  ‘Wwooh. I’m not accusing you of anything, Blake, I’m just doing my job, getting the facts straight so that when I take it back to the precinct I can give the other boys on the case some good solid information.’

  ‘Sure...’ I said, relaxing a little.

  ‘So did you get the name of the driver? Surely he must have told you his name?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Gus, I think he said. Can’t remember where he was from though…Sorry.’

  Tug drew a sharp breath then blew it out in bursts.

  ‘Well, I’m sure we’ll hear from him sooner or later, especially when he comes back and finds his truck incinerated.’

  I nodded and finished my coffee.

  ‘So how much do you need?’ Tug asked.

  I looked at him in genuine surprise.

  ‘Well, a couple of hundred bucks would be a good start.’

  He looked at me sternly.

  ‘And if you make contact with my wife while you’re down there, you’ll let me know straightaway? I mean, when you find out where she is, I can maybe head down there on my day off and coax her into coming back. We could make things right again...’

  He sighed and crushed his empty coffee cup.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll come back when I’ve found her,’ I promised, thinking how most people didn’t when they’d reached breaking point.

  Tug shook his head slowly.

  ‘I messed up, Blake, spent too much time on the job. I just wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most, when she was going through her depression. You know, I can’t work out if I’m just plain selfish or simply dedicated to what I do. It’s hard keeping everyone happy sometimes.’

  I listened in silence, chewing over the parallels of both our lives as he pulled out his wallet, then watched him count three hundred bucks onto the dashboard.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  He gave me one if his best don’t fuck with me looks that cops do best.

  ‘It’s only a loan, buddy, so don’t get too excited. How you planning on getting anywhere without any I.D either?’

  ‘Hitching a ride.’

  ‘That’s if someone’s gunna take a chance on you looking like that. And I tell you something else…you’re going to need a thicker jacket before nightfall and a winter hat, because the temperature is going to drop badly again. There’s some serious snow forecast...’

  ‘In March?’

  ‘In frickin March…this is Minnesnowta after all. Look, I’ll drive you to a spot where you can get picked up easier. It’s the least I can do. But then you’re on your own, okay?’

  We drove for a good twenty minutes in silence leaving downtown Minneapolis behind, then worked our way south along a major highway until we reached the outskirts of a place called Hopkins, where rows of lorries were pulled up for the night in a massive parking lot on the edge of the town. We bumped up on the curb and Tug scribbled a number on some paper.

  ‘Look, I’ve had a thought…Chrissie used to have a good friend down in Kentucky before she moved up this way. She’s called Martha Reynolds. She might be able to help you out if you’re nice to her, put you up for a few nights too, while you do your search. She used to work with Chrissie as a nurse in the main hospital down there. They were tight.’

  ‘Great, that could be useful…’

  ‘Look ring me in a couple of hours. I’ll try and have a number sorted for you. This is my cell...and remember what I said about the money, right?’

  I opened the car door and stepped out onto the icy pavement.

  ‘I’ll remember.’

  As Tug drove off, his radio bursting into life again, I suddenly thought about Lenny back in London tapping his fat fingers on the desk, waiting for some news. It had been a good couple of days now since we’d talked.

  In fact, I hadn’t spoken to him since I’d arrived in the U.S. I needed to tell him about the recent photo and the fresh sightings, so he could give Henry an update.

  Up until three or four weeks ago his daughter was alive and well, and was now engaged in some romantic adventure it seemed, with some guy called Ethan. That sort of news was going to make the banker feel better, that was for sure.

  Things were finally coming together, albeit in their own haphazard way I thought, tilting my head downwards to keep out the icy wind. I’d find the girl down in Kentucky probably, get her to speak on the phone to her father, and maybe that would be enough to wrap things up, unless he wanted me to manhandle her back home for the other ten or twenty. Then I could head down to Mexico and contemplate my life in relative peace, and maybe sort my damned head out for once in peace...

  A large supermarket beckoned me in the distance as I rounded the corner. I could buy some warmer clothes in there as Tug had suggested, get a cheap phone which I could use to contact him, as well as update Lenny with all the latest developments. Something in my gut told me not to get too optimistic just yet, that same feeling I’d had back at the caravan after the initial call.

  I worked my way across the frozen parking lot hoping for once that my intuition was wildly misplaced, then eased my way through the revolving doors into the welcome warmth of the superstore, hoping things wouldn’t be so rough down in Kentucky, and that the mysterious guy who’d been tailing me so tightly back in Minneapolis, had realized that he’d been following the wrong man...

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘bad ride’

  ‘You’re a right fucking doughnut, that’s what you are,’ Lenny boomed.

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Perhaps! I’ve got my bleeding nephew spitting feathers down the line because of the fallout from the stolen rig. Do you how much organisation it took to sort that out?’

  I held my tongue and let Lenny continue his rant. Interrupting would only prolong the dressing down. Experience had taught me that.

  ‘I mean, why did you have to go and torch the bloody thing?’

  ‘I didn’t. Some bikers did.’

  Now I could hear him choking on his words like he was choking on his food.

  ‘And you expect me to believe that, Blakey? Sometimes you revert back to being a bloody hooligan. You act first and ask questions later. You torched it to cover your tracks, didn’t you?’

  I felt my hackles rise.

  ‘I stole the truck because Jed was being an asshole, Lenny. And it was lucky I didn’t get torched myself, because the same bikers returned to even a score. The only thing that saved me was the fact that I took some guy they’d roughed up to hospital.’

  I heard him release a long extended sigh on the other end, my explanation seeming to pacify him a little.

  ‘Well, I can tell you this, Blake, there’s no more favours from that neck of the woods, so I don’t know how in the hell you’re going to get out of the bleedin country when you’ve found the girl. My nephew has had to sort a replacement truck for that bozo too, until the insurance pays up, so he’s not happy either. I said we’d sort him out with the money he’s stump
ed up as soon as you find the girl and we get paid ourselves, if we do, that is. Now, please god, tell me some good news?’

  I took deep breath and swallowed any remaining residue of annoyance.

  ‘Well, I’ve got a photo of Olivia that was taken around four weeks ago by some activists she’d been hanging out with in Minneapolis. It looks like she’s got herself involved romantically with some eco-type then gone on some protest in the Appalachians.’

  Instantly Lenny’s tone changed

  ‘You serious?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good work, son. That would explain a lot. And you’re sure it’s a recent picture, was definitely of the girl?’

  ‘I saw the date on the photo folder before it was printed. If that’s accurate, then I’m sure it is.’

  ‘Right, well I’ll get onto Henry with the update. He’s gunna be one hell of a lot happier knowing that she’s been seen four weeks ago rather than six, and got a chaperone too, even if it is some wayward boyfriend. I mean, at least she hasn’t been abducted or killed. The signs are looking good for a full pay-out, son…So where are you headed now exactly, so I can tell him?’

  ‘Kentucky, some place called Lexington.’

  ‘And you’ve got some good leads to go on down there?’

  ‘Well I’ve got some leads, put it like that. I know roughly where they’ve gone now and why. So the net’s beginning to close...’

  ‘I knew you were the man for the job, Blakey. Just keep your nose out of trouble and get the girl on a plane, okay? Then we both get paid in full.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Be good.’

  Lenny clicked off. I slid the phone into the pocket of the sheepskin coat I’d brought then continued to walk down the main drag of Hopkins feeling the fifty-dollar investment was worth every cent.

  As I strolled passed a brightly-lit cinema packed with kids I realised I needed to invest in some food too. I was starving. Seeing a Greek Deli on the street corner I headed towards it, then ordered more dishes than I could eat.

  After a good hour and a half of rest, and feeling sufficiently fed and watered, I headed back to the slip road where Tug had dropped me off, hoping I’d get picked up quickly before my newly acquired body heat dissipated and before it got too dark.

  I pulled the scarf up over my nose and lowered the ear flaps of the Cossack-style hat as the biting wind surged at me again. It wasn’t the sort of place to be hanging around for too long that was for sure - I’d freeze to death in the hour.

  To my surprise, fifteen minutes later, a brightly-coloured rig slammed on its air brakes and pulled up next to where I was standing shivering on the slip road.

  I jumped up onto the foot rest and opened the door feeling euphoric, then felt my heart sink into my boots as I absorbed the face of the driver at the wheel. It was the blonde trucker from Mickey’s Diner...

  ‘Where ya headed?’ she asked smoothly, the realisation not forthcoming.

  ‘Kentucky, Lexington would be perfect, but anywhere that way would do,’ I stammered, thinking as soon as I took off the hat and scarf that would be that.

  ‘Where ya from?’

  ‘England.’

  ‘Well, you’re in luck, cowboy. I’ll be heading through Kentucky later. I’ll drop you off on the way. The name’s Bunny.’

  ‘Bret,’ I said, climbing in.

  I slammed the door and said my thanks as she pulled away, keeping my hat pulled low and my scarf pulled up to help mask my identity. She looked at me blankly and turned on the radio. Some gentle country music came on helping to ease the tension and she started to whistle quietly to herself.

  I sat there anxiously, waiting for her to realise suddenly, screech to a halt and dump me off in the middle of nowhere to die of hypothermia. After a few more minutes the realisation still hadn’t come. After a few miles more she sparked up some conversation.

  ‘So where you from in England?’

  ‘London. Downright warmer there, I can tell you.’

  ‘Everywhere is warmer than here, honey.’

  She ran a hand through her wavy blond hair and reached for some gum on the dashboard.

  ‘So what do you do for a living?’ she said, peeling the foil off the strip with her teeth.

  ‘I’m in property. I travel around the world looking for good investments for clients. Mainly rentals. I thought I’d check out the Twin Cities for once…’

  She laughed.

  ‘Good luck with that. All I can say is that any houses you choose are going to need one heck of lot of maintenance. The winters are long and harsh here, honey. And that’s if they’re still standing after the tornado season.’

  ‘We don’t get many of those back in England thankfully.’

  ‘Sure, but then the rain makes up for it though, don’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose it does.’

  The conversation eventually drifted and we sat in silence again. I stared mindlessly at the road flashing beneath us, then at the changing landscape, which opened up into cascading wooded hills then faded into open fields the colour of chocolate where they’d been newly ploughed.

  Settlement after settlement slowly greeted us humbly as we clocked up mile after mile then vanished like ghost towns in the side-mirrors as if they’d never been there.

  Gradually the hum and vibration of the cab lulled me into a dreamy haze, then a deep sleep, which I welcomed after the previous uncomfortable night in the hospital. At one point I woke up and drowsily caught Bunny’s eye wondering where I was. She smiled like some doting housewife and changed the channel on the radio allowing some softer music to fill the cab, luring me back into unconsciousness again.

  When I awoke several hours later, dusk was fast approaching and a light drizzle had replaced the earlier white-out of Minnesota. All around us the fields seemed to stretch for miles then melt into darkness, a handful of tractors working them slowly, their bright headlights piercing the furrowed gloom.

  ‘Where are we?’ I said groggily, taking off my jacket.

  ‘We’re in Iowa now, honey. Fancy getting some food?’

  I wondered if that included some fun in the toilets and suppressed my revulsion at the idea.

  ‘Sure…’

  We pulled off the interstate into a gas station that had a pleasant-looking eatery next door. It introduced itself as ‘Sally’s Snack Shack’ in bold magenta lights, fanning across a shiplap cabin exterior. It looked inviting in comparison to the last joint and made me realise just how hungry I was again.

  ‘I’m gunna get some gas. Be mighty appreciative if you can order some strong coffee and some waffles with banana and maple syrup for us? Get whatever you want as well. I’m covering these. You can get the next ones.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, stumbling out of the cab.

  Bunny pulled over towards the gas pumps as I made my way inside the double doors half asleep, where a smiling waitress welcomed me into the rustic-style surroundings.

  ‘Two coffees and waffles with banana and maple syrup twice,’ I said hazily, choosing a booth by the window again.

  ‘Sure thing. Name’s Candy.’

  I enjoyed her swaying hips working their way back to the kitchen, then scanned the other clientele like I always did out of habit. In the next booth were an old couple complaining loudly about the weather and to my right, some agricultural sort, tucking into a huge steak like it was his last meal.

  Further away, in another section were a young couple sitting in stony silence sipping cokes then a guy beyond them, who had his face buried in a newspaper and a Stetson tipped low over his face.

  I watched intrigued as a coffee arrived at his table. He placed the paper carefully down on the table revealing more of his face. I studied him closer. The guy had a thick, well-trimmed moustache that matched his camel-coloured jacket, and weary grey eyes that had seen far more than its fair share of life.

  I placed him somewhere in his late-fifties, just like Tug, and the sort who didn’t suffer fools gladly
. I wouldn’t have even been surprised if he was the local sheriff, winding down after a long hard shift. He had that sort of look.

  I stirred my newly arrived coffee as he stirred his then pulled my attention back to the gas station to see how Bunny was doing. The truck wasn’t at the pumps. She must have parked up around the side and was about to head in.

  I waited for another five minutes and started to feel agitated at the no-show, then wondered if she was actually fixing herself up, hopeful for another lustful liaison. I felt my stomach turn at the idea again. Her perfume had been overpowering, cheap and musky as her synthetic tan.

  The waffles finally arrived, breaking my thoughts. I tucked into them ravenously, tiring of waiting for my host, who I thought couldn’t have been that hungry to be taking so much time getting ready.

  Quickly I worked my way through the plate as I picked over how dumb Bunny was not to remember my face, then reflected that she would have only set eyes on me for a few seconds anyway, when Jed had first greeted her at Mickey’s.

  In fact, she may not have clocked me at all, such was her distraction. The last thing she’d suspect either, was for the guy who’d stolen her friend’s truck to be hitching a ride out of the same state a short while later. I relaxed a little and enjoyed the last few mouthfuls of food, then washed it down with the rest of the coffee satisfied how the hunt for Olivia was beginning to shape up after the initial troubles.

  If I hadn’t had gone to the dealer’s flat to find Ethan, then I wouldn’t have been there when Tug had turned up. I then wouldn’t have got dropped off in Hopkins to get a free ride south with a pocket full of cash and a fresh lead. The mystery guy who’d been tailing me too, had thankfully vanished; probably after witnessing my friendly interactions with the local police...

  I rested my head back against the back of the booth and reflected on the bizarre run of events since my arrival, then stared at the untouched plate of waffles bemused. They were going to be cold soon...

  I looked out the window absentmindedly as Bunny’s truck pulled out of the lot and powered effortlessly onto the feeder road towards a busy looking highway, a nonchalant hand of acknowledgement raised in my direction as she melted into the fast moving traffic. I jumped up realizing what was going on then ran outside fuming.