“I’ll think about it if you answer a few questions.”
“Okay.”
“What would you have done to me if you and Lavar Macone had caught me?”
“Lavar really hated you, so he would have tortured you for a long time before he killed you. Then I would have cleaned up the mess so nobody could prove we were here.”
“Did he torture the girl before he left?”
He shook his bloody head side to side. With his huge square chin and the dents in his skull, his face looked like an animated Halloween mask. I noticed that even though blood flowed from the dents in his skull across his eye sockets, his eyelids stayed open and he never blinked.
“Did Lavar take the girl with him?” I asked.
He shook his head no again.
“Where is she, then?”
“Two of the other guys left with her. I think they were driving a blue station wagon.”
“Do you know their names?”
“One of them is named Jaime something. I don’t know the other one.”
“Do you know where they took her?”
“I think they said they were going to a private airport.”
“To go where?”
“Probably to Marco’s factory in El Paso.”
“Where in El Paso?”
“I’ve never been there. I think it’s close to the border. I’ve heard it’s big.”
“Why did Marco send an army here to kill me and Bonnie? Why do we matter?”
“They wanted to take you alive, not kill you. Marco wanted to make an example out of you for what you did to Julian and other people who work for him. Publicly, in front of his people in El Paso...You’re embarrassing him.”
“How did you know we were here?”
He shrugged again. “The order came down that you and the girl were here, in this house, and that you had killed Julian Silver, and we were supposed to come get you and bring you back.”
“What happened then?”
“I drove down from Seattle to Lincoln City and met Lavar and the other guys. We came down here and were watching the house when the girl went outside to look for you. Lavar grabbed her but she wouldn’t say where you were. We couldn’t find you, so Simon went down to the beach to look for you but he didn’t come back. After a while everyone left, and they took the girl with them.”
“Just like that, huh? Marco says to grab someone up, it just happens.”
He nodded.
“Have you ever heard the name Eric Fullmeyer?” I asked. He shook his head.
“Do you know who owns this house?”
He shook his head.
“Have you ever been here before?”
“No.”
“How many times have you cleaned up after Lavar murdered somebody?”
He shrugged. “Maybe a dozen times.”
“You’re not bothered by it?”
“It’s what I do. I usually wait outside until Lavar’s done, so I don’t have to watch. The headphones help.”
“What do you do with the bodies?”
“It depends on how hard the ground is, and how many people are around. What I have to work with.”
“I heard you like using wood chippers on people. You ever done that?”
He didn’t answer me.
My pants and shoes were dry, which I appreciated. They still smelled like the Pacific Ocean, but at least they weren’t wet. The hooded sweatshirt was warm. Being choked and nearly drowned in the ice-cold Pacific seemed like a distant nightmare, except for the abrasions all over my body, and the fact that it hurt like hell to swallow.
I went through the drawers in the kitchen and laundry room looking for an envelope or a utility bill or something that showed who owned the house. I found a receipt in the laundry room that had Eric’s name on it. Another receipt in the kitchen had Eric’s name on it. Did that mean anything beyond him coordinating some home repairs on a safe house operated by the federal marshal service?
When the giant heard me rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen, he stirred again, looking in my direction with that bloody face.
“Would you call a doctor?” he asked.
“Hell no.”
“I thought if I answered your questions you’d call a doctor for me.”
“I changed my mind when I found out you helped kill a dozen people,” I said. “You’re on your own.”
He paused. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m thinking about burning this place to the ground. With you in it.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Why?”
“Because I’m madder than hell.”
“I don’t want to die like that.”
“My guess is that the people you and Lavar killed had the exact same thought.”
“I have some money. I have a nice car. You can have it. Just let me get out of here and call a doctor for me. I won’t tell Marco we talked.”
“I moved your car into the garage. It’ll burn when the house burns.”
“I don’t want to burn to death,” he said. “Lavar used torches on people sometimes. It’s really bad.”
“Your comfort is not a priority for me,” I said. “In fact, if Lavar were here, I’d chain the two of you to a tree and set you on fire.”
He put his head against his chest, rolled onto his side, and went into a fetal position. He started to cry. His hair poked out of the top of his head like bloody straw.
I lit a fire in the wood-burning fireplace and left the glass fireplace door open. Then I turned all the knobs for the gas burners on the cooktop to the highest setting but didn’t light any of the burners. I thought I’d let the fireplace do that for me.
I carried Bonnie’s suitcase out to the driveway and put it into the trunk of the Ford XL. I got the things I’d hidden under the carpet in the trunk of the car and moved them into the front seat where I could get at them in a hurry. I wanted Julian’s cell phone, the cash, and the sawed-off shotgun close at hand.
Then I started the car and drove it slowly along the country road that led back to the highway. I parked at the top of the rise that hid the beach houses from view of the highway, watching the safe house in my rear view mirror. I sipped at the whiskey bottle until I had a nice warm glow going, and then tossed the bottle into the weeds.
After a while, I got out of the car and walked back down the hill, wondering if the house were going to explode with me in it. At that moment, I didn’t care if it did. I reached the front door, took a deep breath, and turned the doorknob. I left the door open and walked through the kitchen to the big double glass doors that fronted onto the back porch. I pushed them open and felt the blast of cold ocean air come in before I shut off the gas burners on the cooktop. The giant stirred for a moment. He was still lying on his side near the wreckage of the dining room table. He lifted his empty-eyed head off the floor for a moment. “You came back,” he said. Then he lay his head back down and was still. His lips moved as if to say “Thank you.”
Having the front door and back door open produced a wind tunnel effect. The drapes near the opened back door flapped like flags. “I didn’t do it for you,” I said. “I did it for myself.”
I left him where he lay and went back out the front door and up the hill to the Ford. I started the engine and listened to the sound the 429 made as the engine ticked over. The engine rumbled deep and solid and even, like it would run forever if you kept feeding it gasoline. There’s something honest about taking a broken piece of machinery and rebuilding it with your own hands to put it back the way it should be. Something pure and right about it. I pulled out onto the highway and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. For a fraction of a second, I imagined that I was back in college with Bricklin, and the two of us were going to take on the world. Then the force of the engine slammed me back in the seat, the tires spun and caught and spun again, the car rocketing forward and the smell of tire smoke filling the car. I turned on the headlights, and the green lights that illuminated the
instrument panel came to life. The halogen high-beams lit the pavement out to a mile ahead in stark white light.
“Next stop, El Paso,” I said. “I’m coming for you, Bonnie.”
Chapter 35
I drove south on highway 101 until I hit Newport, then went east through the coastal mountain range towards Corvallis and I-5. There was no snow or ice to contend with this time, just gently rolling hills and a ribbon of pavement cutting through stands of emerald Douglas fir trees which lined the road. I pulled into a gas station in Corvallis as the sun was coming up. I filled the gas tank with premium and then pulled over to a parking area where I could have some privacy. It was nearly 8 a.m. when I powered up Julian Silver’s cell phone and dialed Marco’s phone number.
He answered after a few rings. “Delorean,” he said. His voice sounded tired.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“You did, but I was wondering when you’d call.”
I heard a woman’s voice, quiet and questioning, in the background.
I heard a muffled reply from Marco. He’d put his hand over the mouthpiece while he talked to his girlfriend.
“I want Bonnie back,” I said.
“Wanting is different than having, isn’t it? By the way, what have you done with Simon? He was supposed to bring you back with him.”
“Oh. Right. Simon. Pepper-colored hair. Likes to play with knives. Wanting is different than having, I guess.”
A small laugh from Marco. “Not for me, it isn’t. Perhaps from your perspective, that’s true.”
“From my perspective you’re living on borrowed time. Savor it.”
“You enjoy violence, don’t you? But you consider yourself a victim and a hero. How do you reconcile that?”
“I want Bonnie back,” I said.
“Tell me what you did to Simon.”
“He’s dead, Marco. You already know that.”
“Tell me how you killed him. I want to know.”
“In return for what?”
“In return for Bonnie breathing another ten seconds.”
I felt the blood rushing in my ears. My sense of powerlessness and rage made me feel like I would explode.
I gritted my teeth. “He pulled a knife on me, Marco. We got into a wrestling match and he tried to choke me out, but I got hold of his knife and stabbed him in the leg with it to make him let go. Then a big wave came up the beach and we both went under. The undertow took us down and pulled us a long way out. I was able to get to the surface and back to the beach. He wasn’t.”
“That’s what I wanted to know. Now tell me about Julian.”
“Put Bonnie on the phone.”
“You can listen to her die while we’re on the phone together. Or you can tell me about Julian.”
Something about his tone told me that I was never going to get Bonnie back, no matter what I did. The blood rushing in my ears was dizzying. I felt something shift inside me. I no longer cared about anything other than hunting Marco down. If I lived five minutes or fifty years, there was only one goal worth breathing for now: to find the leader of the wolf pack and put him down.
“I’m coming for you, Marco, and I’m going to hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine.”
“More impotent threats from the vigilante.”
“I am going to burn you down if it’s the last thing I do.”
“If you want to come to El Paso, we can sit down and discuss your missing person problem. And Julian. You’ll need to be prepared to … humble yourself. Maybe I’ll trade you Bonnie in exchange for cutting off your balls, or let Lavar put a cowboy hat on your head and light it. That seems fair, doesn’t it?”
“You’re in a joking mood” I said. “I’m not. I get Bonnie back, or you better find a cave to live in.”
“I don’t need to run from you,” Marco said. “That’s the advantage of having an army. My address is 9905 Olmos Drive. My home is across from the country club. I have to go,” Marco said. “I’m taking delivery of a new airplane this morning and need to sign a few papers. That’s what people like me do. We want things, and we have them. There’s no threatening or drama. Money shifts here, money shifts there, and we get what we want. I want Bonnie, I get Bonnie. I want to know where you are, I find out where you are. Looks like you’re in Corvallis, Oregon. Still driving the Toyota?”
I didn’t say anything. I was clenching my fists so tightly that the fingernails cut into my palms.
“I’ll be waiting for you in El Paso,” he said. “Drop by anytime.”
Then the line went dead.
I called information in El Paso and asked for the Federal Marshal’s office. I asked to be put through to Marshal Fullmeyer. He wasn’t available, but I was connected to his answering machine.
“Eric,” I said. “It’s Delorean.” Then my mind went blank. The accumulated stress, lack of sleep, physical violence and alcohol landed on me like an anvil. I had to claw my way back from the edge of despair to continue.
“There’s a body in the ocean near the safe house at Gleneden Beach. Another of Marco’s hitters tried to kill me and nearly succeeded. There’s another guy in the safe house with his head bashed in. He’s still breathing as far as I know. They’re both part of the same organization that Julian Silver and Lavar Macone belong to. You should probably send someone down there to clean up the mess before the neighbors come for the weekend.”
I thought carefully for a moment before continuing.
“They took Bonnie, Eric. I think she’s on her way to El Paso. Lavar or one of his friends has her. I’m coming to El Paso to meet with Marco and try to get her back. If I fail, I’m hoping that you really are what you say you are, and that you’ll try to get her back, too. Bonnie’s a good person, one of the best I’ve ever known. If you’re not who you say you are, and it’s your fault that Marco’s people found us at the beach house and took Bonnie, then you better pray I never find that out.”
Chapter 36
Twenty six hours later I crossed the city boundary line of El Paso, Texas. It was mid-morning, the sun was bright, and the skies were deep blue. My eyes and back ached from driving and lack of sleep. I drove around until I found a part of town where older cars like mine seemed to fit in, and where I could pay cash for a hotel room without showing a driver’s license. I got a room at the Royal Cortez Hotel, only half a mile from the Mexican border. The hotel looked like it had been built back in the days of Route 66, with small adobe buildings, tired red carpet, and beds as flat and indifferent to comfort as a pool table.
I brought the shotgun in from the car under a towel I’d gotten from the bathroom, and then collapsed on the bed. I slept until eight O'clock the next morning, when I was awakened by a knock on the door.
Chapter 37
I rolled out of bed, expecting to see someone from Marco’s team or maybe the police through the peephole in my door.
I was shocked to see Sandy Burroughs looking back at me. She still had the muscular build, the short blonde hair I remembered from our time together in Alamogordo. But this time she wasn’t in uniform. I put the gun back on the nightstand under a towel and let her in.
“Eric Fullmeyer sent me,” she said. She came inside and took a seat on the edge of the bed, crossed her arms, and gave me a smile. She had on blue jeans over tan cowboy boots and wore a tight white polo shirt highlighting a chest bigger than most women have and biceps bigger than most men have. Wraparound mirrored sunglasses. An automatic pistol in a black nylon holster hung from her belt.
“Are you with the marshal service now?” I asked.
She gave a short laugh.
“No. I was bounced from the force in Alamogordo for what we did to Bullard. They said I was lucky not to get charged with felony assault. No way the marshals would take me after that.”
“I’m sorry I got you involved in that,” I said.
“It’s all good. He earned the treatment we gave him. I have a gig doing private work now. Actually pays better than it did on the forc
e. Fewer rules, so that suits me.”
“So what’s your connection with Eric?” I asked.
She picked up the edge of the towel which covered the sawed-off shotgun and whistled.
“That is one ugly piece of hardware. You make it yourself?”
“Try to focus,” I said. “What’s your connection with Eric?”
She dropped the corner of the towel and paid attention. “Oh... Right... Well... I do things for Eric sometimes.”
“Like what?”
“Like stuff that needs to be done that he can’t do, or doesn’t have time to do. We talked after the trial for Sheriff Bullard was adjourned due to the defendant being croaked. I told him about the Alamogordo P.D. turfing me. He was sympathetic and said that he could send some work my way if I was a private contractor.”
“Have you ever had anything to do with someone named Marco?”
“Well, funny you should ask that. Yeah. Marco is pretty well-known in El Paso for his flamboyant way of dealing with his enemies. Eric told me that you said you smoked a few of Marco’s killers in Oregon and were headed back here to rescue a witness that Marco grabbed. Eric flew out yesterday to Oregon to check on a safe house the marshals have there. Said if he was on the hook for you leaving a bloodbath up there, he could wind up in a lot of trouble. So he went to go clean up the mess you created before someone else found it.”