'Let's get it right this time,' Needles said, turning his face away from the heat of the flames. 'I don't want a repeat of the last horror show.'
Beeks nodded — he remembered it well. They had muffed the toss and the corpse had landed half in and half out of the roaring furnace; and by the time they managed to stuff the rest of the body inside and shut the door, the sight and smell of it had nearly killed them both.
Needles called the count: 'On three, ready? One… two… heave! '
Chapter 19
The thugs showed Ashley's picture to everyone they met: shop owners, passers by, vagrants, motel clerks.
The trail led them to an all-night gas station located out on the old highway, west of town. Needles pulled off onto the muddy drive, then rolled the van's front tires up against a railroad tie and killed the engine.
Beeks thought they'd arrived in the Old West: the hitching rails; the wagon wheels; the ancient, glass-top fuel pump out front. Needles marveled that the property was wired for electricity.
They glanced at each other then stepped out of the van and started toward the office.
Out of nowhere, a tall, shirtless, ninety-year-old strip of beef jerky wrapped in denim coveralls, a straw cowboy hat, and ancient snakeskin boots appeared. His faded, pink-paisley neckerchief looked like a rope quoit tossed over a stake. Beeks took a half step back, convinced that they had traveled back in time.
The old man was visibly grateful for the company, speaking in an aristocratic, yet lively manner that belied his years.
'Greetings, friends,' he said nobly, his s's making short whistling sounds as they passed through the gap where his front teeth used to be. 'To what do I owe the honor of your visit?'
'Greetings to you, sir,' Needles replied, then asked him if he'd mind answering some questions. The old man nodded and invited them inside.
– The business office was little more than a shack; however, a couple of years back, in a sad effort that consumed the bulk of the old man's life savings, he had converted it into a miniature convenience store complete with wall-length cooler, credit-card reader, and surveillance camera.
The card reader actually functioned, but the camera was a cardboard fake, and most of the food in the cooler was stocked there when the unit was originally installed. Beeks grabbed a pre-packaged ham 'n cheddar sandwich from the cooler, but he changed his mind about eating it when he noticed some extra protein running around under the cellophane and a sell-by date from the Great Depression.
An open bottle of premium whiskey stood on the counter by the register near a baby-moon hubcap full of cigarette butts — one of which was still smoldering. The old man picked up the bottle and turned to his guests.
'Would you boys care to join me?' he asked.
'Sure, old man,' Needles said. 'We'll drink with you.' His answer surprised Beeks, since they were 'on duty,' but he wasn't about to argue.
The old man poured, and the three men clinked glasses before downing the shots. Beeks smacked his sizable lips and burped, then shoved his glass forward for seconds.
Needles took out Ashley's photo and showed it to the old man. He studied it at arm's length for a while, and judging by his reaction, his eyesight and hormones were still functioning reasonably well.
'She was here, all right,' he said at last. 'I remember, 'cause I used to have a '65 just like hers — 'cept mine had a stick instead'a the Powerglide. I topped her off, and she bought grape juice, crackers, and a pint of gin.'
Beeks doubted the wisdom of the non-alcoholic portion of that purchase.
The old man continued. 'I figured she was some sort of outa-town movie star or somethin' — bein' so uncommonly pretty and drivin' around town in her negligee and all. But she was acting strange — kinda nervous I guess you'd say. And she had this look in her eye — like someone barely clinging to sanity.'
Needles thought about that for a moment, then laid a $50 bill on the counter.
The old man's silver-thatched eyebrows twitched at the sight of it — it had been a long time since he'd seen anything larger than a $5. He pulled a wadded, white-lace-bordered handkerchief out of his pocket, put it to his lips, and coughed something disgusting into it. The thugs tried not to imagine what it was, but they couldn't help themselves.
'Which way did she go?' Needles asked, swallowing involuntarily.
'I'd say west,' the old man replied confidently. He pointed in that direction like a roasted chicken stretching its wing. 'I could hardly believe her little Chevy was still a runnin', with its front-end smashed in so. But it weren't leakin' and one of her headlights was lit… so I let her be.' He coughed more of the mystery substance into his handkerchief. 'One damn-crazy customer — that's what she was.'
'Thanks, old man,' Needles said, shoving the $50 forward. He shook the man's hand, taking care not to crack it. Like squeezing a sun-dried squid, he thought.
The old man nodded and tipped his hat. Then Needles and Beeks headed back outside and continued down the highway.
Chapter 20
Ashley watched as raindrops began to hit random targets on her windshield. They developed into a downpour and her wipers were of little effect as she strained to see the road through the chaotic blackness. She was headed west out the old highway with no idea where she was going. All she could think to do was to run, so running she was.
She had the heater in the old Chevy cranked on high, but still she shivered, unable to shake the horrible feeling that she had abandoned her only son to a pack of hungry wolves. But what could she have done? Call out from the top of the fire ladder? I'm here! Come get me, I'm here! She was free to help Aaron, now, and that was a good thing — at least that's what she kept telling herself.
But she had no clue where to begin. Tom's murder was nothing more than a burglary that had gone horribly wrong. She had no idea that the gunman had intended to kill Aaron.
She glanced at the cell phone lying on the seat next to her and recalled that special moment when Aaron had given it to her. How strong and courageous he had been. How grown up. She questioned her decision to follow his orders not to call the police, and wondered if she would ever see him again.
Suddenly an idea occurred to her that might have seemed obvious under normal circumstances. She picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and called her son.
– Souther was alone in his office when Aaron's cell phone rang. He saw the word MOM displayed on the screen.
'Hello, Ashley,' he said, in a cruelly relaxed voice. 'My name is Johnny Souther. I have your son.'
' Oh my God…' she thought, a sharp pang of horror sweeping through her. She swerved hard left to avoid sliding off the dark highway.
'Listen carefully,' Souther said.
'Where's Aaron? I want to see my son.'
'Aaron is unharmed.'
Ashley closed her eyes and thanked God for small miracles.
'I want you to listen for a moment,' Souther said. 'Can you do that?'
Ashley gripped the steering wheel tightly and tried to collect herself. This man had just gunned down her
