Royal Oak. It was crowded with drinkers, wall to wall at the bar, and all the tables were taken with people eating platters of ribs and pulled pork sandwiches and washing it all down with cold beer. 'The Very Thought of You' by Albert King was coming from the sound system. Bobby and Lloyd sat across from Karen and Wade.
'Tell me, Wade,' Bobby said, 'what do you bring to the party?'
Bobby was grinning now, holding the grin like his face was made out of plastic.
Wade didn't show any emotion at all. He just stared at Bobby and said, 'What I bring is aimed at your acorns, bro.'
Karen heard the click of a pistol being cocked under the table. She glanced at Wade and said, 'Take it easy.'
'Fuck with me again, I'm going to blow them off,' Wade said, his gaze fixed on Bobby. 'How's that sound?'
Bobby nodded now, losing the grin. He looked afraid.
'When'd you get out?' Lloyd said.
Wade said, 'Of what?'
'Wherever you got those tats?' Lloyd said.
Wade put his hard guy stare on Lloyd.
'What were you in for?' Lloyd said.
Wade kept the stare going. 'What's it to you?'
'I did two and a half at Stillwater,' Lloyd said.
Wade said, 'What's that, a juvie home?'
'Juvie home?' Lloyd said. 'It's the oldest prison in Minnesota's what it is. The prosecutor wanted to give me ten years for car jacking on account of there was a dog in the car. You believe that?'
Wade said, 'What kind a dog?'
'A Golden,' Lloyd said.
'I had a Golden once, named Popeye,' Wade said. 'Used to ride on the back of my Fat Boy. Swear to God.'
'You have a Fat Boy?' Lloyd said.
'Damn straight.'
Karen sat there patient, listening. She said, 'If you want to talk about Goldens and Fat Boys, I'll come back and meet you another time.'
They all looked at her, surprised, but nobody said anything. The cute, bubbly waitress, who'd introduced herself as Stacey, came by with their food and served it.
Lloyd said, 'Wait five minutes, bring me another beer.'
Bobby took a bite of his pulled pork sandwich. 'I assume we'll cut the phone line,' he said, talking with his mouth full.
'He's got a security alarm,' Karen said. 'If you cut the phone line, the police will come.' Karen took some of her red beans and drank some beer. 'I'll give you the code.'
Bobby said, 'Okay, you've got the code, but that's after we get in. How we planning to do that? Ring the doorbell?'
'With a torch,' Wade said.
Bobby said, 'A torch?'
'Acetylene,' Wade said, 'melt the lock in a minute.'
He took a bite of catfish. The plate was close to him edging off the table. His big tattooed arm was positioned in front of it as if someone was going to reach over and steal his food.
It was Karen's idea to go in dressed as cops. They'd wear blue windbreakers with the word POLICE on the back in reflective yellow type you could see across a dark room. Windbreakers and blue caps that also said POLICE. Go in selling themselves as cops looking for drugs and guns. 'It's a diversion. Something to surprise them and give us the advantage.'
'What about masks?' Wade said.
Bobby said, 'We dress up like cops, we don't need masks. It's either or. Think about it. If we're cops, why would we be wearing masks?'
Wade mulled that over awhile. 'Maybe so they don't recognize us,' he said. 'That ever occur to you?'
Bobby said, 'How they going to recognize us with hats on in the dark?'
Wade paused, thinking again. 'Where you going to get police jackets at? Run over to Wal-Mart?'
'No, I'm going to go online,' Karen said, 'and find a uniform supply place.' She'd already googled and found americawear. com, The American Law Enforcement uniforms supplier, and ordered jackets and caps for Bobby, Lloyd and Wade. She told them she couldn't go in the house. They'd recognize her in a second. It was Thursday night. They'd hit the Sunday after next. Samir stays home to watch Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy, and goes to bed. How's that sound?
Bobby and Wade nodded. Lloyd seemed lost in thought, in his own world. He was eating ribs and guzzling mugs of Rolling Rock, his glass stained with reddish brown fingerprints. He was looking around not really paying attention to the conversation. Stacey the waitress returned and picked up the empty drink glasses and plates. They stopped talking, waiting for her to leave. All but Lloyd, who looked up at her, hands covered with barbecue sauce.
He said, 'I've been watching, you're one quick little thing.'
The waitress smiled and said, 'Thank you, sir.' She seemed embarrassed by the compliment.
Karen thought Lloyd was trying to pick her up.
'I'll bet you're the fastest one here,' Lloyd said, 'aren't you?'
'One of them,' the waitress said.
'Well if you're so goddamn fast…' Lloyd got up, farted and said, '… catch that and paint it blue.'
She turned, walked past the table, and Karen heard her say 'Asshole' under her breath.
Lloyd took a step and bumped the table with his hip. 'Don't let her take my beer,' he said, 'I've got to go shake hands with the unemployed.' Lloyd walked out of the scene.
Bobby said, 'After a few too many Lloyd turns into Floyd, then Avoid.'
Karen said, 'What's the matter, does he have a drinking problem?'
Getting on his feet, Bobby said, 'Not unless they run out of beer.' He grinned and moved away from the table, stopped and said, 'She comes back, get me another one.'
Wade looked at Karen. 'I don't know about those two. You sure they know what they're doing? Sure we can count on them?' 'Trust me,' Karen said.
Chapter Ten
O'Clair pulled into the strip mall parking lot and backed into a space in the last row so he'd have a clear view of a store called Mail Boxes. According to Stu Karp, that's where Bobby had a PO box. O'Clair had said, 'Why didn't you tell me that the other day?'
'You didn't ask,' Stu said.
Behind the strip mall was an alley, but no place to park. O'Clair had checked it out. O'Clair figured if Bobby stopped by to pick up his mail, he'd pull in the lot. He wouldn't be expecting anyone to be waiting for him on Saturday morning. He'd park and go in.
There was a Blockbuster, a Little Caesars, a Starbucks, a dry cleaners and a CVS Pharmacy. O'Clair got there early, seven cars in the lot, the sun was rising over the strip mall roof, blinding him. He scanned the cars, didn't see a red Mustang Cobra with side pipes and eighteen-inch rims. He put the visor down and adjusted his position, leaning back so the sun was off his face. People were coming out of Starbucks with their designer coffee like junkies getting their fix. He watched a suburban mom in an exercise outfit put her cup on the roof of her Land Rover while she searched for her keys, got in, started the engine and drove off with her coffee still on the roof. Didn't remember it until she was almost pulling out of the lot. She stopped, got out, grabbed it and drove away.
His forehead itched from the stitches. He stared at his face in the rearview mirror. The skin around the
