wanted it, but because I couldn't think of anything else to do.
'I decided to show her who was boss, was how it started,' Reuben said. 'Saw how she had Pete so poleaxed. Arrogant bastard I was, I didn't think there was any woman I couldn't handle, let alone a girl. But pretty quick, she had me damn near as bad as him. She'd laugh in my face, then whisper in my ear, and next thing you knew, we'd be-' He exhaled. 'I knew there was bound to be trouble, and I should have got her out of there. But I couldn't get enough of her.'
It hit me with painful keenness-a powerful man in his prime with a cold wife, suddenly beset by beautiful, sultry, sassy Celia. And I had no doubt that she'd done more than her share to kindle the flame.
'I can see how she'd have been hard to resist,' I said.
'There's a couple things I want you to understand. Pete never meant to hurt her, any more than you did Kirk. He blew up like you said. They were out in the shop. He gave her a shove, she tripped and fell against a workbench and hit her head on a vise-that knob where the handle attaches. It cracked her temple like somebody swung a hammer.'
Reuben wiped his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
'He came and got me,' he said. 'Lord, the look on his face. Going in and finding her laying there. Then two months later, finding him dead. And it was all my doing. That's the other thing I want you to know, Hugh. Nobody to blame but me.'
Emotions, memories, connections that suddenly snapped into place were rushing through me.
Reuben had been carrying a weight, all right.
I stepped to him and put my hand on his shoulder.
'I wouldn't call it that way, Reuben. If I'd been in your place, I'd have done the same. Probably most men would have.'
His eyes changed, to a look that was surprised and maybe grateful.
'I loved Celia and I admired Pete,' I said. 'But she knew damn well what she was doing, and a lot of it wasn't good. Pete always took it for granted he'd get everything his way-he never bothered much about anybody else. And there was some pure bad luck.'
Reuben patted my hand brusquely. I sat at the bar again. We both knocked back an inch of scotch.
''Course, there were other people who suspected,' he said. 'Your father. Gary. They had their reasons for keeping it to themselves. But how come you never said anything?'
In that moment, I realized that in spite of what had happened with Laurie and how idiotic I felt about it, I still couldn't let go of the special intimacy with Celia that my imagination had constructed. I gave an answer that was as true as it needed to be.
'I don't know, exactly,' I said. 'I was fourteen-it wasn't like I thought it through. I guess I figured we'd all lost enough already.'
His eyes widened a little.
'That's a damn fair way to put it, Hugh. All right, I've said my piece. Now tell me the rest of what you know about my son.'
It wasn't easy concentrating after the way I'd just been slammed. I kept it terse, and he seemed satisfied-at least he didn't ask any questions, just kept gazing out the window and rolling his glass between his hands.
'Suppose I was to suggest we ought to pay a call on Wesley Balcomb,' he finally said. 'You got any ideas how we might arrange it?'
In one way, that was the last thing in the world I'd ever have expected. In another, I wasn't even surprised.
'I do, Reuben,' I said. 'I've been thinking a lot about paying him a call myself. Assuming we're talking about the same kind.'
He heaved himself to his feet and stalked into the back rooms of the apartment. When he came out, he was carrying a twelve-gauge Remington Model 870 shotgun. He didn't look like an old man now.
'We're talking about this kind,' he said.
I stepped to a phone, punched Madbird's number, and waited for his gravelly 'Hello.'
'That project we've been talking about,' I said. 'I've got an idea I'd like to run by you. Now would be a real good time.'
54
It was getting toward midnight when the lights in Wesley Balcomb's office went on. Madbird and I were waiting outside the compound's security fence, in the spot where I had earlier planned to shoot from. He had a powerful flashlight. I was lying prone a few yards away with Kirk's rifle, just in case.
When Balcomb walked into the room and sat at his desk, Madbird started shining the flashlight in quick bursts. Balcomb's head swung toward it in alarm. He jumped up and lunged for the light switch. The windows went dark.
Then we heard the sound of one of them cautiously being opened.
'Identify yourself,' Balcomb said harshly. 'I'm warning you, I've got a gun.'
'I'm the one called you last night about them people you were looking for,' Madbird said.
Balcomb's voice turned furious. 'Who the hell are you? What are you-'
Madbird cut him off. 'I found them again. Get your rig and follow me, I'm parked up at the highway. You ain't there in two minutes, I'm leaving.' He turned and started loping in that direction.
'You'd better have my ten thousand dollars, goddammit!'
'Gonna cost you ten more,' Madbird yelled over his shoulder, and kept running.
I took off running for the road, too. This was the best plan I'd been able to think of for luring him out of there without leaving a phone record. I wasn't at all sure he'd go for it. He always operated at a remove, and he'd be real unhappy about dealing with Madbird. But he had to be going crazy by now, with no idea what was happening and two of his hired guns vanished-primed to grab at any chance.
Within another minute, a vehicle engine started inside the compound. Headlights appeared, with the hulking shape of Balcomb's Humvee behind them.
The security gate opened in front of him and closed after he drove through. He advanced slowly until Madbird turned on the flashlight again, flagging him to stop.
Balcomb's window rolled down. I could see the glint of metal in his hand.
'Go ahead and shoot me,' Madbird said. 'We ought to get to hell just about the same time.'
Reuben stepped out of the shadows with his shotgun leveled.
'I'd let go of that gun if I was you, Wesley,' he said. 'You know what kind of a mess one of these can make.'
I stepped to the window and put the rifle's muzzle against the back of Balcomb's neck.
He let the pistol fall to the ground. It looked like a Smith amp; Wesson Airweight with a shrouded hammer. They were easy to conceal, very reliable, and very effective point-blank-probably what he'd intended for Madbird. I scooped it up and shoved it in my pocket.
'We're going to take a drive,' Reuben said. 'Hear what you got to say about dead horses and diamonds.'
55
We made sure Balcomb wasn't carrying any other weapons, then put him in the front seat of the ranch pickup truck that I'd driven here. Madbird took the rifle and he and Reuben sat behind us.
Balcomb kept his cool and put on quite a show.
'Hugh, I'm really sorry about what happened,' he said. 'I'm sure we can get past it.'
So we were finally on a first-name basis. I didn't answer.
