Part 12 (1/2)
”Always the same pattern?”
”Pretty much. He'd shoot the bull with me for a beer or two, and then head up the stairs with Darla.”
”Did he ever say anything to you about his health?”
”No,” Peter said, gazing down at the floor. ”But Darla . . .”
”What?” Rick pressed, sensing he was getting somewhere.
”A couple weeks before Andy was killed, Darla was crying as she left the club. I asked her what was wrong, and she said something was about to happen. Something big. She couldn't tell me what it was, but she said Mr. Walton was going to take care of her.”
”Did Andy ever tell you he thought someone might want to kill him?”
Peter shook his head. ”No. He never said nothing to me. We mostly just shot the bull. He liked to come to the club and blow off steam. He spent the majority of his time with Darla.”
”Mr. Burns, where is Darla? We've tried to meet with her, and no one at the club seems to know where she is.”
Peter stood and emptied the remains of his coffee in the sink. ”She's gone.”
”What do you mean?” Rick asked.
”Just what I said. She's gone.” Peter sighed. ”Look, what was your name again?”
”Rick Drake.”
”OK, Rick, you got a business card?”
Rick fiddled in his wallet and then handed Peter a card.
Peter examined it. ”Look, I got no dog in this hunt. I'd like to help Bo because he saved my a.s.s from jail. But I was awful fond of Andy Walton. He was a friend and a great customer. If Bo killed him, then Bo deserves what's coming to him.”
”Mr. Burns, with all due respect, Andy Walton was the Imperial Wizard of the Tennessee Knights of the Ku Klux Klan,” Rick said, his exasperation and fatigue palpable. ”He and his brethren in the Klan murdered Bo's father forty-five years ago.”
Peter shrugged, unmoved by Rick's show of emotion. ”He was never charged, was he?”
”That doesn't mean it didn't happen,” Rick said. ”I don't understand the people in this town. Bo helped you. If it wasn't for Bocephus Haynes, you'd be rotting away in a jail cell. Bo helped a lot of people in this town. Why is everyone so quick to throw him under the bus? What about Andy Walton's sins, for G.o.d's sake?”
”Are you finished?” Peter said, yawning.
”You just don't care, do you?” Rick asked, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at the bartender. ”n.o.body . . . seems to care.”
”n.o.body's got time for it, boy. People in Pulaski trying to make a buck just like any other place. Stuff like this just makes it harder. You know how many businesses will close down over the next year because of Bo's trial? Ask me how much in tips I've made in the last week since Andy's murder.” When Rick didn't say anything, Peter stuck a finger in his chest. ”I haven't made s.h.i.+t. And you know what? I'm sure I ain't the only one. I bet sales are down across the board. Here's what you need to know. Win, lose, or draw. Guilty or innocent. It don't make a d.a.m.n. People just want it to go away. Now if you'll excuse me-”
”Mr. Burns, it is imperative that I speak with Darla Ford. Can you tell me how-?”
”I'll call you, OK?”
Rick started to protest, but Peter held a hand up. ”That's the best I can do,” Peter said. 'Now I'd like you to leave.”
He walked to the door and opened it, gesturing with a hand for Rick to go.
At the door Rick again wanted to protest, but there was nothing else he could think to say. ”Best number is the mobile,” he managed.
28.
Fifteen minutes later Rick and Ray Ray were sitting at a back table at the Bluebird Cafe.
”I bet he calls,” Ray Ray said, crossing his legs and taking a sip from his own mug. ”I don't know Burns like Bo does, but based on him letting you in the apartment, I bet he will call.”
Rick shook his head. ”I doubt it. Not after I got on my soapbox about Andy being in the Klan and lynching Bo's father. I . . . think that p.i.s.sed him off pretty good.”
”f.u.c.k him,” Ray Ray said, taking a bite of bacon. ”You're too sensitive, kid. Peter Burns isn't. He just told you like it is.”
”You think he's right about the town just wanting it to go away?”
”I think he told you the G.o.d's honest truth. Pulaski, Tennessee has a history that the town can't seem to escape. It's like the d.a.m.n town hall has a big scarlet R on it for 'racist,' because of the Klan being born here.” Ray Ray scoffed. ”When Bo's trial is discussed by the national media, what you'll hear over and over again until you're sick to death of it is 'Pulaski, Tennessee, birthplace of the Ku Klux Klan.' The broadcaster will be hyping the trial, and they'll be showing images on the screen of houses in Giles County that sport the Confederate flag on the front porch and dozens of other pictures of Klansmen marching on the square. It won't matter whether Bo is acquitted or found guilty. Whether he walks free or is lethally injected, Pulaski will take another hit. The s.h.i.+ne on that scarlet R will be back. We can turn plaques around and shut the town down for a day, but we can't change the national spin.” He paused and took a sip of coffee. ”Burns shot you straight.” Then Ray Ray smiled his Joker grin. ”I still think he calls you back.”
”I hope so,” Rick said, not feeling as confident. ”He's our only way to get to Darla Ford.”
”Maybe not. She might have been close to some of the other girls out there. I'll head out to the Sundowners tonight and take another look.”
”Ray Ray . . .” Rick eyed his new partner suspiciously across the table.
”Business only, I promise. We have to find her, right?”
Rick nodded. ”We have to find her.”
”Then I'm going.”
”I'll go too,” Rick said.
”No, G.o.d, h.e.l.l no. I've known Larry Tucker for years, and it's not like I've been a stranger to the Sundowners. I'll blend in better. Like I was telling Helen at the prelim”-he gave his Joker grin and sipped from the mug-”I'm a sneaky b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”
”All right then,” Rick said, leaning back as a waitress placed a steaming plate of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs in front of him. ”But be careful. With what happened to the Professor . . .” He trailed off.
Ray Ray patted the front pocket of his pants. ”Ray Ray always packs a nine-millimeter friend with him.” Then, pausing to put a huge bite of pancake in his mouth, he asked, ”Have you heard from Tommy?”
Rick shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of eggs. ”I tried to call him after the prelim yesterday but got no answer.”
”He took a h.e.l.l of a beating,” Ray Ray said.
”He's also just coming off some cancer treatments,” Rick added, and Ray Ray wrinkled up his face. ”Yeah,” Rick continued. ”Bladder cancer. The treatments have worked. He's been cancer-free for a year, but he had just been scoped a couple days before he got down here.”
”Jesus,” Ray Ray said. ”So-”