Part 22 (1/2)

I looked at him. ”Actually, you a.s.sured me that Purcell would leave me and Susan alone.”

He held up open palms. ”We did all we could to control the situation. Leroy Purcell is... was too ambitious for his own good. I imagine his death was no great loss to anyone.”

”No s.h.i.+t.”

He paused. ”You said there was an attempted ambush. People died.”

”We had to kill them to escape.”

”Where are the bodies?”

I said, ”In a house used by the Bodines on Dog Island. A man named Thomas Bobby Hayc.o.c.k has been living there.”

He said, ”Do you expect me to clean up your mess? Is that why you are telling me this?”

I said, ”Yep.”

Sanchez said, ”No,” and Joey's Glock 9mm appeared. Sanchez said, ”Do you plan to kill me also?”

Joey shrugged.

I said, ”If I thought you had anything to do with Susan, you'd already be dead. But I don't think you would have come here if you had. So we have to decide how we're going to move forward. Joey and I are working on the a.s.sumption that you and your group are either going to be with us or against us. In other words, we don't see you sitting on the sidelines while we get slaughtered. And if you're not willing to help, that meansa”and I'm just guessing herea”that you will probably try to kill us to keep this mess from getting any messier and to keep the cops out of your business. And Mr. Sanchez, or whoever the h.e.l.l you are, if you're going to try to kill us, well, we have to figure we've got a better chance of staying alive long enough to find Susan if we shoot you right now.”

Sanchez let thick, gray smoke drift out through his nostrils. He said, ”I could simply lie and kill you later.”

”That's true. But I don't think you will. Something's going on with the Bodines, and I think you need to know what it is. Your contact man, Leroy Purcell, just had his guts cut out by someone.” I said, ”The man had a long list of enemies, but it's too much to believe it's a coincidence that he got killed the same afternoon when someone was busy kidnapping Susan and trying to kill Joey and me. It's all connected somehow. And since you didn't do it, and since Joey and I don't have a frigging clue, it stands to reason that killing us isn't going to solve the problem.” I paused, and Sanchez remained quiet. I said, ”So, in short, someone's drawing a lot of attention to the Bodines in a way that's bad for you and for us. We don't want to go to jail for defending ourselves on the island, and you don't want your fellow patriots to rot in South America while you try to set up a new operation. And you sure as h.e.l.l don't want to get yourself in the newspaper or on the evening news.”

Sanchez looked from me to Joey and back again. He said, ”I expected more. That is a weak argument, Seor McInnes.” This time, I shrugged. He inhaled deeply from his Montecristo, blew a long, narrow plume of smoke at the ceiling, and said, ”If the bodies have not already been discovered, we can take care of the cleanup on Dog Island.” My stomach tightened as I heard cleanup used the same disturbing way for a second time that day. ”But understand that I am making what I believe is the logical choice under the circ.u.mstances. Please do not fool yourself that you can deal with us through threats.” And he rose to leave. As he pa.s.sed Odd Job, he stopped and looked down.

Joey said, ”I got 'im,” and walked over to drag the unconscious bodyguard outside.

Sanchez turned back to look at me. ”You told Charlie Estevez that one of the Bodines you saw today said something about your client seeing Purcell kill a Cuban.”

”Nope. He said, as nearly as Joey could remember, that, quote, 'all this mess started over a f.u.c.king Castro getting whacked.'”

Sanchez said, ”What else did he say?”

I said, ”As far as I know, nothing.” I hesitated and said, ”There was something else, but it didn't make much sense.”

”What was that?”

”This guy, I think it was the one who ended up with a broken neck, tried to bargain with Joey. He said he could tell us about 'the fat spic in the swamp.'” I stood and looked at him. ”Does that make any sense to you?”

A.k.a. Carlos Sanchez looked at the floor and shook his head as if giving the question great thought and coming up empty; then he walked out the door.

When Joey came back in, I asked if Sanchez had tried to talk to him in the hallway. He shook his head and said, ”You think you talked him out of killing us?”

”I don't know. I think, probably yeah, for the time being.”

”It was kind of a weak-a.s.s argument.”

”Yeah. Well, you'd be right except for one thing.”

Joey looked puzzled.

I said, ”Sanchez's front group owns the house on Dog Island where you just left a pile of dead guys. And he's scared to death somebody's going to find out.”

chapter twenty-nine.

We headed back to Loutie Blue's house, making sure, we thought, that no one was tailing us. As we came through the front door, Loutie came downstairs, and I heard the back door close a few seconds before young Randy Whittles strode into the room. He said, ”We made two in the alley and two on the street.”

Loutie nodded. ”That's what I saw. There's probably at least one more waiting with their car, wherever that is, but two and two is all I could see.”

I asked, ”Who are they?”

Randy said, ”No way to be sure. But probably the Cubans. They're not doing anything. Just watching the house, and my men are watching them.”

Loutie glanced at me and said, ”Let's go talk in the kitchen. Tom needs to eat something.”

I said, ”I'm not hungry,” and everyone walked out of the room in the direction of the kitchen and left me sitting alone. My choices seemed to be either to sit in the living room by myself or to go in the kitchen and let Loutie shove food at me.

Randy's take-out feast was spread out across the kitchen table in little white boxes with red paG.o.das printed on the sides and wire handles looped across their tops. I sat at the table, and Loutie put a clean plate in front of me.

I said, ”I don't want anything,” and she started piling steamed rice on the plate. I said, ”d.a.m.n it, Loutie, I told you I don't want this stuff,” and she began to spoon Mongolian beef over the rice. I gave up and turned to Randy. ”What have you found out about Carli? Do you think she's still on the Gulf somewhere?”

Randy managed to look both embarra.s.sed and a little impotent. He said, ”Loutie says we can't talk until you eat something.”

I exploded. ”This is childish bulls.h.i.+t. Susan may be dead. Carli's missing and G.o.d knows in what kind of trouble.” I turned to look at Loutie. ”We do not have time for this c.r.a.p.”

Loutie said, ”Then I guess you better eat something.”

I looked at Joey with the intention of reaming him out. But he just grinned and raised his shoulders as if to say, ”Whatcha gonna do?” So I picked up a fork and ate a mouthful of lukewarm beef and onions and rice. Loutie smiled and walked to the refrigerator, where she poured a gla.s.s of iced tea and put it down next to my plate.

I said, ”You going to burp me when I'm done?”

Loutie looked unfazed. She said, ”If you need it,” and sat down.

Now that I was actually eating, I was kind of hungry. I chewed while Randy talked. ”Carli went from here to a bus stop three blocks east. Around five a.m., she caught a bus to the main terminal downtown and left there for Biloxi at seven-twenty. She got off the bus in Biloxi at their main terminal and was spotted later in the day, just after lunch, hitchhiking about forty miles northeast of there on the road to Meridian.” Randy looked down at the table and flexed his jaw. He said, ”That's it. That's all we know.”

Joey said, ”Tom. I don't wanna sound like an insensitive p.r.i.c.k here, but now that Purcell and Rus Poultrez are dead, how much difference does it make that we can't find her? I mean, I know it's bad for any fifteen-year-old to be out running around the countryside by herself, hitchhiking and all, but... h.e.l.l, you know what I mean.”

I said, ”You're right. At least, you probably are. Some of Purcell's boys may still be out looking for her, but I'm guessing they're more interested in finding who killed their boss. Not to mention jockeying around to see who's going to be the next King of the Jethros.”

Randy said, ”Don't you think they're gonna blame you for killing Purcell?”

”Probably.”