by Max Austin
He was in such a hurry to get out of the cold, he was indoors, flipping on a light, and latching the lock behind him before he realized he wasn’t alone. Somebody cleared his throat, and Johnny wheeled around to find a slit-eyed, angular man folded into an armchair in the corner of the room. The stranger had made himself right at home, his skinny legs crossed, a long-barreled revolver propped on his knee, pointed at him.
“What the hell, man?” Johnny managed. “What are you doing in my place?”
“Sit down,” said the man, who was dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket. “Over there on the sofa.”
Johnny edged around the sofa in the center of the room. When the back of his legs thumped against the cushions, he sat.
“Good,” the stranger said. “Now we can talk.”
“Who the hell are you?”
A little smile creased the man’s face. “My name is Rex, not that it matters much. What matters is our conversation.”
“What conversation?”
“I’m going to ask you some questions. You’re going to answer them.”
Johnny sat up straighter. “And if I don’t?”
“Dwight will hurt you.”
Another man had come up behind him, from the dark hall that led to the bedroom and the bathroom. Johnny looked over his shoulder and saw a broad-shouldered bodybuilder in a gray sweatshirt. Dwight’s mouth was a straight, lipless line, and his big jaw jutted like he was pissed off.
“Jesus, man,” Johnny said. “What do you guys want?”
His hands twisted at each other. He tried to hold still. Maybe he could answer a few questions, get these guys to relax, then make some kind of move. Get hold of the gun. Make a run for it.
“Let’s start with your two friends,” Rex said. “Tell me about them.”
“Which friends?”
“The ones who helped you rob the bank.”
Johnny let his eyes go wide. “What?”
“Don’t bullshit me, boy. We know all about that bank, don’t we, Dwight?”
The other man grunted. Johnny didn’t look back at him. Didn’t want to know what that chunky face was doing now.
Instead, he noticed the cool breeze coming from the sliding glass doors. One of the glass panels had been taken off its track and set aside. So that’s how they got into the apartment. But how had they found out his name and address? How had they connected him to the robbery?
Something exploded against the side of Johnny’s head, and he thought for a second he’d been shot. He fell over on the couch, hearing a high-pitched whine that seemed to come from inside his head.
Dwight leaned over the back of the sofa, staring at him. He’d slapped Johnny upside the head, right on the ear. Jesus Christ, it hurt. He must’ve swung with his entire weight behind it.
Johnny managed to sit up, wiping drool off his chin.
“You want to start answering questions now?” Rex asked. “Or do I let Dwight do that some more?”
“No, man. Hold on. Let me think.”
“Nothing to think about. Just answer my fucking questions. We know you were in on that holdup, so don’t pretend you weren’t. We know it was a big fucking haul. Where’s the money now?”
“I don’t know.”
Wrong answer. The bodybuilder whacked Johnny on the other ear, knocking him off the sofa and onto the carpeted floor.
“Get up,” Rex said. “Get back on that couch.”
Johnny struggled onto his knees. He pulled himself up until he was sitting on the sofa, Dwight looming behind him.
“I really don’t know where the money is.” Johnny held up both his hands, trying to ward off the next blow, but none came. “We hid it, but the other guys moved it somewhere.”
“They didn’t tell you where?”
“No, man. That’s the truth.”
Dwight drove a fist into the side of Johnny’s neck. He went blind and dizzy for a few seconds but not quite unconscious.
Johnny found Rex smiling at him from across the room. “You expect me to believe that? Your partners took all the money, hid it somewhere, and you didn’t raise a peep?”
“I trust them,” Johnny rasped.
“You’re a goddamned fool. From what I’ve heard about Mick Wyman, he’s only out for himself.”
That gave Johnny pause. He hadn’t heard Mick’s last name before.
“They never told me their real names. I just knew them as Mick and Bud.”
“Bud, huh?”
“I assumed they made up those names.”
“You mean to tell me you went into business with these boys and you didn’t even know their names?”
Johnny shrugged. It did seem stupid, now that Rex put it that way.
“And you let them get away with all the money as well?”
“They’ll give me my share,” he said. “After things cool off.”
Rex cackled. “Good God, you’re a dumbass. I ought to shoot you right now. Put you out of your misery.”
Johnny shook his head, trying to think of something to give these guys, some way to stall.
“But hell,” Rex said, “I don’t want to make a lot of noise, shooting a gun. You’ve got neighbors.”
Johnny felt a little hope well up within him. Maybe they’d let him live.
Rex raised his stubbled chin, looking above Johnny to Dwight. He gave a nod.
Big hands grasped Johnny’s forehead and chin and snapped his head around. He heard a crack, deep within his own neck. The room spun, and it felt like he fell for a long time.
Chapter 48
Rex Cutler waited until they were in his truck before laying into Dwight.
“The hell’s wrong with you? I didn’t want you to kill that kid. I had more questions for him.”
“You gave me the signal,” Dwight said.
“I did not.”
“You did. You nodded. That’s the signal to finish him.”
“I meant for you to hit him again, not break his goddamned neck.”
“You gave the signal.”
Rex threw the truck into gear and zoomed out of the parking lot and into the empty street.
“Goddamnit,” he muttered.
“Hey,” Dwight said. “We were gonna kill the guy. You said so before he got home.”
“But after we found out where the money was.”
“He didn’t know. He said so.”
“You think he just let his partners take three million dollars and hide it without telling him where? Nobody’s that fucking stupid.”
Rex glanced over, saw that Dwight was staring out into the darkness, his bottom lip pooched out. Pouting.
“All right, look,” Rex said, “I can see how you might’ve gotten confused. A nod isn’t a very good signal. From now on, when I want you to kill somebody, I’ll come right out and say it, okay?”
Dwight didn’t reply. Still pissed.
“I’ll say, ‘Kill ’em, Dwight.’ Is that clear enough for you?”
Dwight wouldn’t look at him.
“Or I’ll just do it myself.”
“You said you didn’t want to shoot him,” Dwight mumbled. “You said it would make too much noise.”
“But I was bluffing, see? Setting him up for some more beating. Let you work on him a little more so I could’ve gotten more information out of him. As it stands, we don’t know anything more than we knew when we broke in.”
“We know he didn’t have the money,” Dwight said. “We checked the whole apartment, and it wasn’t hidden there.”
“True, but—”
“And we know his other partner is named Bud.”
Rex rolled his eyes before he caught himself. “I expect that’s a nickname, Dwight. Or what they call an alias. They didn’t want that kid to know their real names.”
Dwight clamped his mouth shut again.
“You know what?” Rex said. “I’ll bet that kid didn’t know where they put the fucking money. If they wouldn’t trust him with their real names, they probab
ly wouldn’t trust him with their hiding place, either.”
Dwight’s face brightened. “So it doesn’t matter that I jumped the gun.”
Rex reached over and patted his partner’s meaty shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it. It was just a communications problem. I know it won’t happen again.”
Dwight vigorously nodded his big head. Made Rex think of those bobblehead dolls people put on their dashboards.
“So we go back to hunting for Mick Wyman,” Rex said. “We find him, and we find the money.”
“We’ll make him tell us where it is,” Dwight said.
“That’s right. We’ll make sure we have that money in hand this time. Before we kill him.”
Chapter 49
Bud Knox was surprised that Linda was waiting up for him. He found her in the living room, curled up on the sofa, wearing her fluffy pink bathrobe, a blanket over her knees. It didn’t seem cold in the house, a little too warm if anything, but Linda was trembling when he leaned over to kiss her.
“Are you coming down with something?”
She shook her head. “Just worried about you. I didn’t know where you were.”
“I told you I had to meet Mick.”
“To do what? You didn’t say, and now look at you. You’re white as a sheet.”
He stepped away from her, removing his jacket and tossing it over an armchair. “I’m fine. We just had to take care of some business.”
“I thought you were done with this business. I thought you were done with Mick.”
Bud sighed.
“We’ll never be done with Mick. He’s our friend, practically part of the family. I’m not going to toss all that aside just because I’m getting out of the business.”
“How can we get a new start if he keeps coming around?” She looked away. “He’ll tempt you, wave some job in front of you, try to lure you back in.”
“It won’t work, hon.” Bud sat beside her and touched her chin so she’d look him in the eyes. “I’m finished. No lie. I’ve had enough.”
“But you—”
“Just a few more days, Linda. That’s all. Once my share is put away, we’ll have enough money to live the rest of our lives.”
“What about Mick? Think he’ll stop, too?”
Now it was Bud’s turn to look away. “I honestly don’t know. I hope he will, but you know how he is. It’s in his blood.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“But I’m not Mick. I didn’t come from the same hard background. Mick’s never had anyone in his life he could trust. Besides us, I mean. His dad was a drunk, and his mom killed herself. But my home life was extremely normal. I made good grades in school. Loved to read.”
“I know all that—”
“I just had a taste for unsavory friends. They got me started boosting cars. Then knocking over stores. Then I got together with Mick and we stepped up to banks, and it’s been a good run. I’ve never been a wage slave, and you know how important that is to me.”
“It’s a secret life, Bud.”
“I’ve dumped all my other unsavory friends,” he said. “Mick’s my only connection to that other world. I thought that’s the way you wanted it.”
“That’s right, but—”
“We’re the closest thing Mick’s ever had to a normal family, Linda. He loves us. Loves the girls. If anything ever happened to us, he’d see they were provided for, the rest of their lives.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“You’re talking about me. So am I, in a way. There’s always been something missing in Mick, some hole he needed to fill. But I don’t feel that way. I’ve got everything I need right here.”
She pressed her full lips together, and for a second Bud thought she might burst into tears. But she just stared at him, studying his face.
“Something bad happened tonight,” she said. “I can tell. And you’re not going to talk to me about it.”
“We covered our tracks, like always. The money is safe. We’re safe. I just need a few more days to wrap things up. Okay?”
She nodded. Bud leaned in and gave her a kiss.
“You should go to bed. You’ve got to work tomorrow.”
He pulled her to her feet, the blanket falling to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her hair.
“It’s going to be fine, hon. I promise.”
He wished he were as certain as he sounded.
Chapter 50
Mick Wyman woke Thursday morning to a trilling telephone and a pounding hangover. He sat up, a hand clamped to his forehead, and looked around the unfamiliar motel room. He untangled himself from the covers, located his jacket where he’d hung it over the back of a chair, and fished the phone out of the inside pocket.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s Bud.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s after ten. Were you still asleep?”
“I stayed up too late last night. Had a few drinks.”
“Worrying about what we did?”
“What? No, fuck no. I was watching a ball game on TV. What’s up?”
“It’s Johnny. He didn’t show up for work.”
“How do you know?”
“I called over there a few minutes ago and asked for him. Thought I’d better check in, make sure he was doing as he was told. The girl who answered the phone said her boss called Johnny’s place a couple of times. No answer.”
“Maybe he’s on his way now.”
“Maybe. But he was an hour late already.”
“Want me to go check out his apartment?”
“One of us should. I’m supposed to meet with Angela’s teacher this morning. Those parent conferences they do every so often.”
“I can do it,” Mick said. “Just need to get some coffee in me. Maybe a shower. There’s no hurry, right?”
“Who knows? The kid’s come through so far. It seems out of character for him to skip work. He wouldn’t leave town without getting his share.”
“I’ll go check it out. But if he’s not at home and he’s not at work, I’m not sure where to look for him.”
Bud hung up, and Mick flopped onto the edge of the bed. He felt like hell. The last thing he needed was to go chasing Johnny Muller. But if the kid had disappeared, they might have trouble.
Johnny had left Felix’s before he capped the bank guard and his girlfriend, but he must’ve guessed what happened. Was he upset enough to go to the police? Mick regretted leaving the kid alive. Should’ve left him in the cooler with the other two. But it was too late now.
Now, he needed to find Johnny. Fast.
Chapter 51
Pam Willis and Hector Aragon were poring over the statements from the witnesses at the First State Bank robbery when one of the witnesses phoned. Hector picked up the receiver without looking up from the paperwork and said, “FBI. Aragon.”
“Agent Aragon? This is Jean Hutchins. The bank manager?”
“Yes, Ms. Hutchins, what can I do for you?”
“You told me to call if anything unusual happened?”
“Right.”
Hector flipped a switch on the phone to put the call over the speaker. Pam looked up from her papers at the sound of the banker’s voice.
“Our guard didn’t show up again this morning. Diego Ramirez? And he didn’t call in sick or anything. I’ve phoned his home a couple of times, but there’s no answer.”
“That’s unusual for him?”
“He’s never done it before. He’s always right on time.”
“Okay, Ms. Hutchins, we’ll look into it. Thanks for the call.”
“Will you call me back? If you find out where he is? I’m worried about him.”
“You bet.”
He punched the button to ring off and met Pam’s gaze.
“I knew something was wrong with that guard,” she said. “The way he acted when we went to his house. Calling in sick, claiming he was em
otionally shook up, when he clearly was fine.”
“Weird that he didn’t even call in today, though.”
“We’d better go check his house.”
Hector sighed. “Couldn’t we get APD to send a cruiser by? It’s all the way across town, and we’ve got to get these reports to the boss.”
“No, let’s do it ourselves. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Chapter 52
Mick Wyman’s hangover was subsiding as he reached Johnny’s apartment building on the north end of the city. He’d taken some Tylenol, washed down with copious amounts of coffee. A hot shower helped, too. His black hair was still damp. He kept pushing it back off his forehead as he drove across town.
The apartment building looked the same as usual from the front. The parking lot was mostly empty. Everybody at work already. Johnny’s Jeep was parked crookedly in its space, as if he’d left it there in a hurry.
Mick let the Charger creep through the lot while he checked for surveillance. No sign the cops were on to Johnny, but Mick didn’t want to get out of the car until he was sure.
He drove around the end of the two-story building to where a littered patch of asphalt held the garbage bins. The ten downstairs apartments had little fenced-off patios back here. Upstairs were balconies, and each apartment had sliding glass doors that faced southwest, overlooking a sandy field of cactus and chamisa. Probably a nice view at night, the valley filled with the city lights.
Mick counted off balconies until he figured out which one belonged to Johnny’s apartment. The glass door was open, its long white drape flapping in the breeze.
Uh-oh.
He backed the Charger around the building and parked out front, facing the street in case he needed to leave in a hurry. He tucked one of his big Colts in his waistband at the back, under the hem of the denim jacket he wore today. He missed the gray windbreaker he’d tossed into a trash bin the night before. It had been longer and hid the gun better, but there was no getting the blood off the sleeve.
Mick crossed the parking lot and climbed the concrete stairs to the second floor. No answer when he knocked, so he tried the knob. The door opened an inch.
