“Taking a chance, aren’t you?”
“He’s a school teacher, for God’s sake. Mug — I would have been worried about. Crayer? Don’t have much history on him so I’d be careful. Stan, you never know, but this guy, this Dusty, was a school teacher.”
“What happened?”
“He says something lame, like ‘what do you think you’re doing here?’ ”
I remembered his bail-out answers. “And you said you were looking for Thomas LeRoy.”
“You remembered? Of course. I told him I was going to talk to LeRoy about giving you guys a break on your rent tomorrow. You know, on account of the rainy day you had yesterday.”
“So he just let you walk out?” Em couldn’t quite believe it.
“No. I’m sitting there in front of the computer, on Thomas LeRoy’s personal page, and I guess he didn’t believe me.”
“So what happened.” I was tired of the slow delivery.
“I picked up the lamp from the table and hit him as hard as I could.”
“He never fired? Never tried to stop you?” I couldn’t believe it.
“Son, he was a school teacher. He didn’t believe it was going to happen. And I hit him with a ton of thunder. As hard as I’ve ever hit anyone.”
“Wow.” Em was in awe. “So he’s the one they were dragging across the grass?”
“I believe it was Dusty. And when I saw two of them coming toward the office, I figured he’d signaled them with a cell phone before I bashed him. I headed out in a different direction. I didn’t want to involve you two.”
“Do you think he’s told them about you?”
“Hard to tell. My guess is he didn’t know it was me until after he called them. Even then, I’m not sure he knows me. It was several years ago, and with the hat and stuff, I looked different. I only saw Dusty once or twice anyway. I think he just told them someone was breaking in. And I hit him hard enough to put him out for a while.”
“That hard?”
“Maybe hard enough to kill him.”
“Daron. You don’t even want to think that.”
“I hit him so hard my hands still ache. I seriously don’t think Dusty will be turning me in any time soon.”
“So that leaves one more big question.” I talked softly. Not so much because I was afraid someone would hear, but because if I talked above a whisper, my head started throbbing again.
“Yeah.” Em nodded.
Together we said it. “Where’s James?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I t was almost three thirty, and we still had about three hours of dark.
“We can take advantage of the dark or we can wait until daylight and see if we can find him.”
Hundreds of crickets rubbed their legs together in a mind-numbing nighttime roar. I wondered how people could even sleep with the noise. I wondered if James was sleeping.
“Or we can call him on his cell.” Em pointed at my phone clipped to my belt. I hoped the battery was charged. I hadn’t been home in so long, I had no idea if it would work. I’d never considered calling James. We see each other often enough that I don’t think about calling. I pulled my cell from my belt and pushed the two digits for instant dialing. In two seconds I could hear the phone ring. Once, twice, then I heard the obnoxious ringtone of his phone coming from the back of the truck. Some hip-hop rhythm by a group I didn’t know.
“He left the phone behind.” Em jumped down from the truck. She looked back at me, and in the dark I could see her attempt at a smile. “How do you feel, scarface?”
It wasn’t funny. I could feel the beginning of a scab, but I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t follow her, and stayed sitting on the edge of the truck bed. I wanted to sit for a while longer, and make sure I wasn’t going to be sick.
“Daron. There are a number of things about you that bother me.”
“I appreciate your candor, Skipper. I’ve always thought you were somewhat of an asshole and that bothers me.”
I ignored the comment. “If we can get on the same track here for just a moment — ”
“Okay.”
“You said you took the money off a dead man? Can you explain that?”
Styles pushed the hat way back on his head, and in the dim light I could see that the long hair on the sides and back of his head compensated for the deep receding hairline.
“I never said that.”
Em walked over to Styles, still sitting on the ground. “You said it. I heard you say it. Skip heard you say it.”
He slowly stood up, this time lit a small cigar and leaned against the truck. “Skip, I’m truly sorry about your accident. It was my fault. Not intentional, understand, but my fault. When I am at fault, I will admit it. To the right people.”
“And we’re the right people?”
“In this case.” He turned and pointed the lit end of the cigar at Em. “You accused me of being dragged away from the office. You saw it with your own eyes, but it wasn’t me.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Styles.” Em was pissed. “We both heard you say you took the money off a dead man.”
I was surprised. She was raising her voice, but Styles kept his low-key, barely above a whisper. “I never once said that.”
“I heard you, Daron.” I was afraid she was going to wake up the little makeshift village.
“Nope.” He sucked on the cigar. Watching him, I wanted a cold beer in the worst way. Beer and a good smoke just go together. I would have taken the cold wet bottle and applied it to the cut on my head, then I would have sucked the golden beverage down my throat in two or three gulps. James has always maintained that there’s very little a couple of cold beers won’t cure.
“Yep.” Em just shook her head, apparently in disbelief of Styles’s audacity.
“Look, little girl. Let’s get it right. You asked me if I took the money from Michael Bland. I finally admitted I had.”
“And?”
“I took it, because he offered it. Before he keeled over from a drug overdose.”
Em took a step back. “What?”
“Bland came up to see me about an hour before they found his body. We’d talked, and I think he knew that I wasn’t exactly on good terms with the full-timers or with Thomas LeRoy.”
“He came to see you?”
The crickets seemed to get louder the closer we got till dawn. He raised his voice slightly to allow for the noisy insects.
“He did.”
“And what did he say?”
“That he was a full-timer, but he didn’t condone some of the things they did.”
Em smirked. “He said this to you. Someone he’d known for one or two days?”
“I think he knew they were going to kill him and he didn’t know who else to turn to.”
“Why did they want to kill him?”
“So he hands me this paper sack.”
She asked again. “Why did they want to kill him?”
“And he says ‘these are my winnings for tonight. Over eight hundred bucks. If something happens to me, get it to my sister in Coral Gables.’ ”
“And you did?”
