Parker shrugged. He didn’t need the whole story, but if he had to wait through it he could.
“George didn’t tell me about this— I mean George Walheim.”
“I know who you mean.”
“Yeah. Anyway, he didn’t tell me about Uhl until after they did their job together, you know?”
“What was the job?”
“I don’t know exactly. I think it was one of those discount stores at a shopping center outside Sacramento. I think that was the one they did, but I don’t know exactly.”
“How much did they get?”
“I don’t know. But I do know George is flush. George Walheim. He’s very happy about it. I’d guess he got maybe ten grand or more for himself out of it. He’s really happy.”
“So Uhl should have the same amount.”
“That’s what I figure.” Beaghler gave Parker a fast grin, then faced front again. “And I figure half of it is mine,” he said. “I’ll show you where Uhl is, I’ll help you take him, and we’ll split the money.”
“Where’s Uhl now?”
“In a farmhouse in the mountains.” Beaghler grinned again and said, “Hiding out from you.”
“How do you know he’s there?”
“It’s the place they all went after they pulled their job. Then when they split up, Uhl said he was going to stay there maybe a month or two, because there was a guy looking for him and he wanted to lay low.” Beaghler gave Parker another bright-eyed look and said, “That was you.”
“Walheim told you how to find the farmhouse?”
“I already knew about it. I used it a couple times myself.”
“Who else is there besides Uhl?”
“Nobody.”
“You know that for sure?”
A touch of Beaghler’s underlying nervousness showed through. He said, “He was alone when George left, that’s all I know for sure.”
Squinting at Parker, he said, “You think maybe he’s got friends with him now?”
“I don’t know.”
Beaghler brooded through the windshield at the traffic. He said, “Well, we’re gonna come at him from the back, so it should work out okay.” Another quick glance at Parker. “Don’t you think so?”
“We’ll see,” Parker said.
Six
“Here’s where we switch,” Beaghler said.
They were just below Fremont, on a secondary road heading southeast, already starting to climb toward the mountains. Beaghler was making a left where a wooden sign in need of fresh paint said:
Parker said, “Switch to what?”
“The ATV. I told you about it.” Beaghler drove slowly down the gravel road, the Chevy’s engine growling low as if in greeting to all the wheeled houses.
“Why do we switch to that?”
“I told you, we’ll come at him from the back.” Beaghler steered around a group of children, who gave blank- faced stares as the car went by. “There’s only the one road in,” Beaghler said. “It’s dirt, it’s dryer’n hell, you drive along there you raise a dust cloud you can see for ten miles. That’s what makes it such a good place to hole up.”
Remembering Beaghler’s scheme of driving through mountains for ten hours with the statues from San Simeon, Parker said, “How far is it, the back way?”
”Ten miles, fifteen miles.” Beaghler said it in a dismissing way, as though the distance were unimportant.
“How long to get there?”
“From here? Less than an hour.” Beaghler had reached the end of the line of trailers. He turned right onto a dirt lane that climbed up and curved around behind the white house. “Don’t worry,” he said, “it won’t take long. Not like down around Big Sur.”
Parker said, “Who are the people here?”
“Friends of mine. I keep my ATV here, I don’t like to drive it in the city. Wait’ll you see it, it’s a sweetheart.”
Parker recognized the vehicle the instant it came into view, around behind the house. Amid the half-dozen junkers scattered around the weeds, the high and boxy ATV stood out like a Marine sergeant in a roomful of winos. It was of the type of a Land Rover, jeeplike in the bottom half and trucklike in the top, with windows all around and the spare tire mounted high on the back like a man wearing a holstered gun waist-high on his hip. The tires were large and wide and deep-treaded, and the grill and headlights were covered by a mesh screen. A five-gallon
