“I’m married to Franklin. I don’t take short cuts.”
At five minutes to ten, they rounded the corner on two wheels and careened onto Main Street six blocks west of the Courthouse Square. Daisy thought the street was strangely empty for a Friday night. Most of the lights were off. Everything looked shut up, dark, like a ghost town. Weird-feeling. Something was seriously wrong with this picture.
Elvis had definitely left the building.
“What the hay is going on around here, girlfriend?” June said, taking the words right out of Daisy’s mouth.
“The streetlights are all shot out,” Daisy said. “Some windows too.”
Daisy slowed to a crawl and doused the headlights. They were still five blocks away from Courthouse Square. The FedEx machine sat on the sidewalk right out front of the old building. She looked at her watch. Five minutes until the FedEx delivery kid showed. Daisy knew him from when she taught art at the Prairie High School. His name was Buddy Shirley. He was never, ever late for class.
Daisy saw something else that was very disturbing. A couple of doors were hanging ajar, like folks had left in a hurry. Somebody had shot up the town.
June rolled to a stop and set the brake. “Something’s not right. We better just sit tight till we know what’s going on.”
“Yeah.”
“Wait a second. What’s that truck doing up there?” June whispered a few seconds later.
“Hell if I know,” Daisy said, “We better stop before they see us.”
There were very few cars parked on Main Street. But there was a big truck parked directly across from the courthouse. It looked like an old moving van. It was parked outside Sam Robin’s appliance store. Which was fine, except for the fact that the rear doors now opened wide and there was a man inside with a powerful flashlight. He pointed it down the street, the beam pausing on the pick-up a second, then moving on.
They’d crouched low on the seat.
“Think he saw us?”
“Hell, I don’t know. I hope not. Stay down.”
As the women watched from four blocks away, a couple of large boys carried another huge cardboard box right out the front door and hefted it up onto the truck’s hydraulic lift. Daisy had seen boxes like that. Not that she’d ever owned one, but she knew what it was all right. A super-sized flat-screen TV that cost five thousand dollars minimum.
“Looters,” June said.
“Yeah. We’ll set tight right here. Buddy has to pass this way to make his pickup.”
“You think those looters have guns, don’t you, Daisy?”
“What do you think, June-bug?”
“That old truck does not look the least bit local.”
“No, it’s not. Those boys look Mexican.”
“Well, they’ve got brazen enough, haven’t they?” June said. “Just cross the border and do your Friday night one-stop shopping.”
“Something bad is going on,” Daisy said, her voice low. “Nothing feels right in this town.”
June nodded her head. “So, how are we going to get Buddy the envelope? You can’t just drive up there next to the van and put the envelope in the FedEx slot and hope Buddy picks it up. Those hombres up there would just as soon shoot us as look at us, you ask me.”
“There are more shells in the pocket of my robe. Here. Load up. Both barrels. Have it ready in your hands.”
June reloaded the Parker Sweet Sixteen. She snapped it shut with a satisfying click and thumbed the safe button forward to Fire.
“Do you think they saw us?” June said again through compressed lips, looking out of the corner of her eye.
“I think they’re pretty busy taking Sam’s inventory,” Daisy said, grinning at June.
“Shoot, no wonder folks around here hate—”
“Hush! I’m thinking.”
“It’s ten o’clock, Daisy, on the button,” June whispered fifteen seconds later, her head way down, just peeking over the dash at the looters down the street, keeping the gun low. Then she craned her head around and peered back over the windowsill, looking for headlights coming up Main.
“Where is he? You think he got spooked?”
“Buddy will be here, June. Any second now. I’ve got an idea.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll flag Buddy down when he comes and just hand him the envelope as he goes by. You put the sheriff’s Key West address with a zip code on the envelope?”
“Sure did. Look here. Just like he asked me to.”
Daisy grabbed the envelope, opened her door, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She glanced down the street at the looters, fervently wishing the pick-up’s interior dome light was busted like it normally was. She shut the door softly and started around the rear of the truck.
“Here comes Buddy,” June said from inside the truck. They both saw the van’s single pair of headlights moving very quickly up Main Street toward them. Daisy saw the dome light come on again in her truck as June cracked her door.
“June! Stay there! Don’t get out of—”
“You’re not leaving me here,” June said, swinging her door open and stepping out into the street just as Buddy’s white FedEx Home Delivery truck roared by her going about sixty, blurring the purple and green letters on the side. Nearly took her door off. When Buddy was almost abreast of the automated pick-up box, he hit the brakes hard and fishtailed to a stop, leaving the engine running. The driver’s side door flew open, and she saw Buddy’s boot hit the pavement.
“Buddy! No!” Daisy screamed, running down the street toward him as fast as she could, “Stay in the damned truck! They’ve got guns!”
There was a sudden staccato explosion of heavy automatic weapons fire from the other side of the street. Daisy registered a muzzle flash from the man standing on the lift at the rear of the big van. The FedEx panel truck rocked with the force of the slugs and the passenger side window imploded in a shower of glass. She saw two more men rush out of Sam’s, both pulling weapons and shouting.
Daisy saw Buddy start to crumple to the street. He caught hold of the driver’s side door, though, and pulled himself back inside behind the wheel. She watched him still trying to pull his door closed and then the panel truck lurched forward, swerving crazily as Buddy floored it, yanking his boot inside. The two looters who’d come out into the street chased him half a block, firing at the back end of the van.
“Go, Buddy!” she screamed as she turned away. “Get out of here!”
58
D aisy ran fast as she could to her pickup truck without looking back at the Mexicans. She was waiting for one of them to shoot her in the back but nobody did. Back in the truck, June was sitting straight up in the seat and she had the shotgun poking out her window. “They shot Buddy, didn’t they?” June said, and there wasn’t trace of fear in her voice now. It was as if the woman had suddenly been rendered nerveless. “Let’s go see if we can help him.”
Daisy jumped in and floored the accelerator before she popped the emergency brake handle. It was a technique her older brother Rance had taught her. It still worked.
“Whoa!” June said, as they shot forward, the rear tires burning rubber.
“What are you doing?” Daisy cried. June was half-in, half-out the passenger window and they were coming up fast on the old moving van.
“Shooting back,” June said. She was sighting down the barrel at the hombre standing on the lift watching
