River threw on clothes and had the gun in hand by the time the figure was close enough to recognize.
It was Robert Gapp.
He looked more like Robert Mitchum now than ever.
River motioned the man into the boxcar and closed the door.
They hugged.
The man focused on January, at first her face, then her tattoos, then her eyes. “You’re too good for him,” he said.
She smiled.
“It’s the other way, actually.”
“No, trust me, I have it right.” Then to River, “We need to talk.”
“I already figured that.”
They stepped outside.
Gapp got right to the point.
“There’s a dick named Bryson Wilde running around town trying to figure out who dropped that red dress off the roof this past weekend. I was buying her drinks and squeezing her ass right up until the minute she left.”
“That was stupid.”
“It would have been if I was the one who killed her,” Gapp said. “That’s not what happened though. What happened is that you killed her and set me up to take the fall. You paid her to pick me up and be seen with me. Then you killed her.”
Gapp stopped talking.
He let the words hang in silence.
River studied his face to see if he was joking.
He wasn’t.
“That’s bullshit,” River said.
“Is it?”
“Yes, it is, total, one hundred percent, falling down dead drunk bullshit. Why would I do anything like that?”
Gapp tightened his brow.
“I’m still chewing on it but once I get my brain convinced, I’m going to have to kill you. You know that. The only surprise in all this is that I’m giving you a warning.”
River let the corner of his mouth turn up.
“You’re going to kill me?”
“You forced me,” Gapp said. “You’d do the same.”
River picked up a piece of gravel and threw it at a pigeon down on the tracks.
He missed.
The bird and three more like it took to the sky.
He turned to Gapp.
“What we need to do is get this PI off your ass. We’ll do it tonight. Meet me back here at nightfall.”
115
Wilde stayed alone in London’s bed until dawn, neither sleeping nor awake, then headed over to Alabama’s hotel and rapped on the door until her groggy face answered. Her hair was a mess, clearly the loser in the fight with the pillow.
She stretched.
“What time is it?”
Wilde stepped inside and shut the door.
“Time to get to work,” he said.
“Did London ever show up?”
Wilde shook his head.
“No.”
“That’s not good. I got to pee and take a shower,” she said.
“Do ’em both at the same time. The clock’s ticking.”
She headed for the bathroom and said over her shoulder, “There needs to be a law against having to wake up to you. I’m going to need coffee.”
“Fine.”
“I mean, as soon as I step out of the bathroom.”
“What does that mean? You expect me to go fetch it while you’re showering?”
She nodded.
“There you go.”
An hour later they pulled up to an abandoned warehouse in the old industrial area north of the BNSF rail yard. The building was brick, four-stories, and boarded tight. Wilde worked at a window in the back until they got access, then led the way up the interior stairway to the roof.
The view was unlimited in all directions.
A crystal blue sky hung above.
Puffy clouds were building up over the mountains, hinting of rain and maybe even a serious storm.
At the south edge of the roof, Wilde trained binoculars on Dayton River’s boxcar setup, pulling the scene in good enough to make out someone’s face if there was a face there to make out.
Right now there wasn’t.
He handed them to Alabama.
She pointed them at the target and got them in focus.
“We good?” Wilde asked.
She nodded.
“We’re good.”
River wasn’t the one who shot at Wilde last night. However, he was the one who initially took Alexa Blank out of the diner during her shift. That meant River was connected to the man from last night. With any luck, that man would show his face at River’s place today.
With even more luck, Alabama would see him.
She might recognize him.
If she didn’t, she could at least memorize his face.
Wilde looked around.
The roof had a two-foot-high parapet at the perimeter on all sides. In the middle was a rusty heating unit.
“Stay low,” he said. “Don’t get spotted.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t get spotted.”
“I heard you.”
“If you see him heading this way, even if it looks innocent like he’s just out for a jog or something, get the hell out of here.”
