Three Sides of the Tracks Page 14

  “Bad as all what? What do you mean?”

  “Danny boy, you’re slow as a constipated pregnant woman sometimes. Dang. Here,” Bernard said and reached for a newspaper lying on a dusty table. “You’re front page news, boy.”

  Danny saw the picture of himself with blood covering the upper part of one side of his face and a bloody cut on the other side. Blood splattered his shirt. The police sergeant was shown gripping Danny’s arm with one hand and trying to shield the photographer from taking the picture with the other. It was the most unflattering picture of the way Danny was treated that Nancy could find before turning it in to the newspaper early that morning, barely in time to make the early edition.

  She’d also written part of the story, which told how the police had demolished Belinda’s house without cause and beaten Danny in the course of arresting him for being involved in the church robbery. She made sure to highlight that Danny had an alibi proving he had not been anywhere close to the church at the time it had been robbed and the girls abducted. She left out the part of him being with the group earlier in the day.

  It was hard to tell from the front page which was the main story: the beating of Danny Taylor by incompetent police or the robbery of the church. Jessie Whitaker demolishing the front of the Bluebird Cafe wasn’t mentioned.

  “Geez, Bernard, I wish I could keep my mother from seeing that.”

  “I know y’all don’t subscribe but you can bet yore bottom dollar some busy body’ll make sure she sees it or tell her all about it in living color. Under the guise of friendship of course.” Bernard spit a stream of tobacco onto the grass. “Assholes. Well, what gonna be, gonna be and that’s that. Thought I’d better let you know though.”

  Danny looked up, not noticing most of the pain was gone. “I appreciate it, Bernard, but you don’t know the whole story. I really don’t care ‘bout this, except for mother. One of the girls Slink kidnapped is a close friend of mine. Has been for a long time. Since we were little.” Danny lowered his head to hide the tears coursing down his cheeks.

  Bernard rocked in his chair for a few minutes, waiting for Danny to get himself together and thinking of what he should or shouldn’t say. Finally, he stopped rocking, reached down and grabbed Danny by the shoulder.

  “I think I know where that son of a biscuit-eatin’, suck-egg dog has gone to hide out.”

  “You mean Slink?”

  “Course I mean Slink. Who else? Close yore mouth boy. You look foolish.”

  “How . . . how would you know? I mean, it all just happened. How’d you find out?”

  “Hell, I didn’t say ‘I found out.’ I said, ‘I think I know.’ ”

  Exasperated, Danny shrugged and threw up his hands. “Bernard.”

  “Okay, okay. My sister, Slink’s mother—heaven help her—owns a place down in Florida. Down there where they shoot the astronauts off. Cape Carnival. Coconut Beach, or something like that. Have to check through my papers. I bought a lot next to hers but ain’t done nothing with it. She built a little place and used to go down there on occasion. Shoot, I went a few times, like a fool, but it’s too hot down there for me. She loved it though. Rented it out for tourists and the like when she didn’t feel like going.”

  “Loved it?”

  “Yeah, she passed away a while back. Never did have good health, and that low-down offspring of hers worryin’ her all the time didn’t help none.”

  “I’m sorry, Bernard.”

  Danny laid a hand on Bernard’s knee. “You have to find out where it is exactly and tell me. I have to go after Caroline.”

  “You. You can’t go after nobody the shape you’re in. Specially not Slick, Slink, Sylvester, whatever he goes by. That boy’s mean. He’d eat you up.”

  “I know he’s tougher than me, Bernard, but I can’t sit here when he has Caroline. And I wasn’t planning on fighting them. I thought since Slink seemed to like me a little that I’d just ask him—”

  “Get that notion outta yore head ‘cause Slickster ain’t ‘bout to let his hostages just sashay off with you. Can you handle a gun?”

  “A rifle, shotgun, just for hunting. I’m not an expert shot or nothing though.”

  “How ‘bout a pistol?”

  Danny shook his head.

  “That’s okay. Not that hard. Not in close, which I imagine you’ll have to be, or likely to be anyway.”

  Bernard stopped to choose his words. “I know you’re right tough, but I doubt you could take Stinker even in a straight fight. And what about the bunch he’s with? One of ‘ems big as a bear, and his buddy, if it’s who I think it is, is a weird sucker, I’m telling you. Got the devil all through him, that one does. Seen them eyes?” he said with a glance at Danny.

  “Yeah, I know the odds and how bad they are, Bernard, but I have to get Caroline. I’ll wait till they’re asleep or something. The cops might get her killed, if they can find her at all. I’ll worry about what to do when I find them.”

  Bernard sighed. “Come on inside and let’s find something that suits you.”

  Danny followed Bernard into the house and to a large walk-in closet in one of the bedrooms.

  Bernard moved some boxes, grabbed a hammer from one of them, and hit the end of a section of hardwood floor. The other end raised a quarter inch. Bernard hooked the hammer’s claw into it and pulled up the board, then the adjacent boards. Bernard reached in the crevice and pulled up a blanket.

  “Open that up and see what you think.”

  Danny’s eyes shined with fascination after he untied the knot and the blanket fell away. Rifles, shotguns, Soviet army AK-47 semiautomatics, other weapons he’d never seen before.

  “Reach down in there and pull the other one up,” Bernard said, smiling at the look on Danny’s face.

  Danny pulled up another blanket and opened it. “My gosh, how many pistols are there?”

  “Don’t know. Ain’t counted ‘em. Not lately anyhow. Here, stick this in yore back pocket. It’ll be your best friend if the fightin’ gets close.”

  Danny took the six-inch leather blackjack, heavy lead sewn into the last two inches, and did as Bernard said without comment.

  “What’s that,” Danny asked pointing to a canvas belt with what appeared to be giant bullets.

  “M-79 grenade launcher. Don’t think we’ll be needin’ that, or this,” Bernard said, affectionately patting a plastic tube.”

  “What do they do?”

  “Well, you can figure for yourself what a grenade does, I reckon. Them there shells in the belt go with it.” Bernard picked up what looked to be a snug-nosed single barrel shotgun but with a huge bore. He snapped it open, stuck the over-sized shell into the chamber and pretended to pull the trigger. “Bam, no more cops,” he said then cackled for a moment before setting it down.

  He touched the plastic tube. “This baby’s a LAWS rocket. Release this latch here and the rest of the tube snaps out, then just mash this little rubber thing on top and, whoosh, a rocket goes tearing out of the end of it. Hit a tank just right, it’ll take it out. We could take out that whole damn police station too if we wanted.”

  “Think I’ll stick to finding Caroline for now, Bernard,” Danny said searching Bernard’s eyes to make sure he wasn’t going on a tangent.

  “Yeah, okay, kid, didn’t mean to scare you. You know how I am about cops though, and I ain’t had this stuff out in a while, so . . . well, just got my mind wandering.”

  “You might need this too.” Bernard snapped open a .45 caliber derringer and took out the bullets. “These bullets here will stop a fight right quick.”

  Danny looked at the bullets lying in Bernard’s palm. The centers were hollow.

  “These are hollow-point bullets. When one hits the ‘intended,’ it expands. The lead just flares out and rips right through flesh. Ain’t no amount of patching up can save you when you been hit with one of these. It’s small enough to hide in case it comes to that. Snuggle it behind yore belt buckle where nobody’ll be likely to
look. Don’t need but the two bullets because, if you’re close enough to have to use it, there won’t be no time to reload, or need to anyway. Not for the one who’s shot.” Bernard cackled again. “I hate to admit it, but I’d dearly love to see fat boy get hit with one of these bullets. I just plain ain’t never had no use for him and that devil he runs with, the chalky one with red eyes. Nephew of mine’s bad enough, but I think he got sorrier and sorrier the longer he hung ‘round with them two. Nah, that ain’t true. Just like to think it is ‘cause we got the same blood—I’m damn sorry to say.”

  Danny thought he saw Bernard’s eyes mist up for just an instant then the look was gone.

  “Take that shotgun, the one what’s sawed off. It’ll hold five shells, and we’ll load it with buckshot so you’ll have a bigger impact. Blow a man slap off his feet, it will. You just fire and pull back on this part under the barrel. That’ll load another shell in the chamber and you pull the trigger again. Keep doing that over and over till you run out of shells, which I doubt you’ll do before it’s all over. If it comes to that. Which one of them pistols suits your fancy?”

  Danny looked at the assortment of pistols. Big ones. Small ones. Long barrels. Short barrels. He picked one up with a shiny barrel and ivory grip. “Gosh, this is heavy.”

  “Yeah, that’s a .45 automatic. Good gun ‘cept for one thing. Slim chance it might jam and then you’d be in a world of trouble. How you like the feel of this one?” Bernard said and handed Danny a smaller gun with a shorter barrel, wooden grip, and cylinder for the bullets.

  The gun was heavy but not as heavy as the first, and, whereas the first one seemed like it was barrel-heavy, this one felt like it was all one piece, balanced. “ ‘Comfortable’ ” I guess would be the word,” Danny replied.

  “That’s the perfect word. The way a gun should feel to a man. 357 Magnum’s what you have there. It’ll do the trick. Okay, here’s you some binoculars. Take this camouflage jump suit and hat, and I do believe you’re ready for war.”

  The color drained from Danny’s face, and his eyes lost the glow so apparent moments ago.

  “You don’t have to do this, kid. Ain’t yore place. It’s the police’s. Or, if not them, the girls’ families. Take it from me—you know I know what I’m talking ‘bout—you just ain’t made of the stuff it takes to bring down the likes of them three. You cain’t reason with them kind. Cain’t make no deals. No nothing ‘cept kill ‘em. Scum that they are; it’s what they deserve. I knew that sorry nephew of mine would do somethin’ one day. Something crazy bad. Never in a million years dreamed it’d be somethin’ like this though. Young girls and all. A church. As much devilment’s in the world, still ain’t never heard of robbin’ no church. Beats anything I ever heard, and that’s sayin’ a hell of a lot. I’d kill the son of a bitch myself if I was able.” Bernard was almost screaming now.

  Danny shook Bernard’s shoulders. “Killing Slink is not my plan. I’m thinking of Caroline. I mean to get her away from him, not kill him.”

  Bernard’s eyes met Danny’s, and he put a hand on Danny’s. “You damn well better start thinking of killin’ him ‘cause that’s the only way you’ll get her,” he said softly. “I mean it, son. Think hard ‘fore you go chasing Slink. Won’t be time once it starts. Think whether you can take a life, even one as sorry as Stinker’s. If you got any doubt, leave it to the others ‘cause Stinker will gut you like a chicken without blinkin’ a eye. You hearin’ me?” He squeezed Danny’s hand. “You hearin’ me?”

  “Slink’s not keeping Caroline.”

  Bernard stared into Danny’s eyes and saw a washed out expression, one devoid of emotion.

  “Okay then. When it comes time, you stay in the place you’re at right now. And use your brain. That’s your only chance.”

  Danny nodded and dropped his hands.

  “You get yourself some rest today. Eat plenty of food and just lie around and rest up. Sneak outta the house at let’s say three o’clock and come over here. I’ll have everything ready for you. I’ll check the car, make sure the battry’s charged and all.”

  Danny looked puzzled.

  “You’ve got to have a car, ain’t you? How else you goin’ after Slink?”

  “Well, I thought I’d ask my mother . . .”

  “Ha, your mother won’t let you out of her sight if she knows what you’re planning. Shoot, I thought you were smarter than that. I might need to reconsider all this if you’re that dumb.”

  Danny threw up his hands. “I can’t just up and leave, Bernard. She’d worry to death.”

  “Leave her a note. You go tryin’ to make her understand why you have to go and it’ll end in a big fuss and then I’ll be dragged into it ‘cause I’m loaning you my car. She ain’t gonna be less worried just because you tell her what you’re planning. You’d better listen to what I’m sayin’ cause it’s right as rain. Son, there ain’t no right way of handlin’ this.”

  Danny paced the floor, misery at causing his mother more worry apparent on his face. “You’re right. She’d probably call the cops on me herself if she knew what I’m planning. So you’ll have the address in Florida for me when I come over at three o’clock? I’m going to leave all these guns and stuff here till then too.” He placed his hands on Bernard’s shoulders. “Thanks, Bernard. I’ll try not to make you sorry.”

  “You do that, kid. You do that. Now git. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  21

  Foraging

  “Y’all get back in the car and don’t be moving around,” Slink said. “Sweet Cheeks and me are gonna see what we can find to eat.”

  “No, no, you can’t leave me,” Brandy wailed and grabbed Caroline.

  “Stop your whining. Nothin’s gonna happen to you. Make sure of that, Smurf. If I come back and that gal’s messed up, it’s gonna be me and you. You hear me?” Slink looked first at Whitey then Smurf, who both mumbled their replies.

  “Get’r in the car, Smurf.”

  Smurf pried Brandy’s arms loose and dragged her toward the car.

  “Ready for a field trip, Sweet Cheeks?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Come on.”

  Slink took the tire iron from the trunk and walked east through the tall pines. He looked back to make sure Caroline followed.

  The pine straw deadened their steps, and the spaces between the huge pine trees made for easy walking. They’d walked half a mile when Slink put up his hand and crouched. Caroline did the same.

  “Get up here,” he said.

  Caroline crawled the 10 yards on her hands and knees until she was next to Slink. “There’s a house over there. We’re gonna see what kind of groceries they keep.”

  “In broad daylight?”

  “Of course. Everybody’ll be at work. Or most likely be anyways. We’ll have to see. Watch the house and see who comes and goes in the next little while.”

  “You have it all figured out, huh?”

  “Don’t get smart. Forgot the last time so quick?”

  Caroline lowered her eyes.

  The air in the woods was almost motionless, only a brief waft rippling over their skin without moving a leaf or flower.

  Caroline felt herself flush when a tendril of air carried Slink’s masculinity. For a moment, she forgot who he was. Then she remembered and was ashamed at the impulses flashing through her mind. The discovery was new. A man’s smell had never affected her until now.

  “When I run, you run. Got that?”

  Caroline nodded.

  Slink’s lithe body streamed through the undergrowth and across the yard, flattened against the house as he snuck peeks through two of the windows.

  “I don’t see nobody. No TV going. Don’t hear anything either. Let’s try the door.” He grabbed Caroline’s hand and jerked her along until he reached a door leading into the carport. The door opened at his touch. A tarp covered one car and the other space was empty. The doorknob from the carport to the kitchen didn’t turn, so he jammed the tir
e iron between the door and doorframe and levered it until the bolt popped out. “After you, my lady,” he said, sweeping his arm across the threshold in a grand manner.

  Caroline shivered when she walked into the kitchen, feeling the invasion of another’s life.

  “Look in that closet for plastic bags. Big ones.”

  Caroline looked in the pantry and stripped three 50-gallon bags off the roll. She thrust them toward Slink.

  “Hell, don’t hand ‘em to me. Start filling them up. I’m gonna see what else is in here.”

  “Please . . .” Caroline blurted out.

  Slink turned. “What?”

  “Don’t take anything from these people. Nothing personal. Please. You don’t need it. You have enough money from the church. It must be horrible to know someone’s come into your home. Can’t we just take enough, just enough so they won’t know we were here?”

  “Well, ain’t you the sensitive one? What would you know about that? You been robbed . . . raped maybe?”

  Caroline flushed again. This time from anger. “No, I haven’t been raped, thank you very much. It’s called empathy, which means—”

  “I know what it means, Sweet Cheeks.” Slink shook his head as if he thought she was crazy. He opened the refrigerator. A pack of hotdogs, bottle of mustard and ketchup, mayonnaise. “Put some of those bananas in the bag.”

  Caroline broke three bananas off a bunch of eight or ten bananas, not enough to be missed, she hoped. She opened the pantry door again and took a jar of peanut butter she’d seen, then several cans of peaches and fruit salad with syrup. She opened drawers until she found a can opener.

  Slink rifled through the refrigerator.

  Caroline edged closer and held the bag open. “I think we’ve got enough.”

  “What makes you think that? You don’t know my plans.”

  “Well, I just thought we’d be moving soon.”