Gabe’s street backed up onto a subdivision that had gone bankrupt during the recession, the lots plotted but never built upon. Billy decided to bury Nate in one of these lots. It was a risk, for someday the land might get developed and Nate’s bones unearthed. But time was short, and they needed to get back to Carnivale before their absence caused problems.
With the headlights off, Travis drove the rental across the bumpy terrain and braked at the indicated spot. Billy took a look around to make sure there weren’t any homeless people camping out or teenagers getting high.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said.
From the rental’s trunk Billy removed a shovel he’d found in Gabe’s garage. It was a moonless night, the glow of the casinos blotting out the stars. They took turns digging, each man shoveling frantically for five minutes before letting the next take over. Billy went last, believing that he should never ask one of his crew to do a job that he wouldn’t do himself.
“What was that?” Gabe whispered fearfully.
Billy stopped digging and put his ear to the wind. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Sounds like a dog. What if it starts barking?”
“There is no dog. It’s your imagination.”
Gabe shone the flashlight app on his iPhone in the direction of the noise. His arm was shaking, the flashlight’s beam dancing. “I could have sworn I heard something.”
Billy tossed the shovel to the ground and climbed out of the grave. With Travis’s help, he removed Nate’s body from the trunk and carried it over to the shallow hole, where on the count of three they both let go. It landed with a dull thud, as inglorious an end as one could imagine. There would be no graveside eulogy or headstone. Nate would simply disappear, never to be heard from again. Billy felt bad about it, but he’d get over it.
They sprinkled lime over the body before refilling the hole with dirt. Gabe did not help them. Instead, the jeweler continued to point his flashlight into the void.
“Let’s get out of here,” Billy said.
Travis, Cory, and Morris piled into the rental. Travis was behind the wheel and fired up the engine. Gabe didn’t move from his spot.
“Get in the car,” Billy said.
“There’s something out there watching us.”
“Come on, you need a couple of stiff drinks.”
“I saw green eyes glowing in the dark. There were two pairs.”
“Sure you did.”
Billy grabbed Gabe by the arm and began pulling the jeweler toward the rental. It was like trying to move a mountain, and he motioned to Travis for help. Travis inched the rental toward them and came to a gentle stop. Billy opened the passenger door and began to shove Gabe in.
“Come on, man, get in the fucking car, will you?”
“I swear to God, there’s something out there watching us,” Gabe said.
A black-tailed jackrabbit jumped out of a hole and darted past the two men. Gabe let out a startled yelp. Billy laughed and slapped Gabe on the back.
“It was just a rabbit.”
“No it wasn’t. Look over there.”
From out of nowhere a pair of gray coyotes ran past the rental. One of the coyotes was mature and full grown, the second just a teen and learning how to hunt. They’d been hiding in plain sight, and they ran down the jackrabbit and tore it apart.
Vegas was overrun with coyotes. They hung out in the foothills and descended into the subdivisions at night. They killed house pets when the situation was right, hopping the fence and doing the grab-and-go with Spot or Precious. Everyone knew about them, including the sheriff and local game wardens, and no one did a damn thing to stop the killing.
Billy had never fathomed that. Back where he came from, packs of animals that killed were gotten rid of, the quicker the better. But not in Sin City. Here, coyotes did their killing and people looked the other way, just like he was doing now. Someday, he might understand how the locals rationalized the coyotes’ presence, but he didn’t see himself ever accepting it.
It was too damn savage, even for him.
Nineteen
“Who’d you rent this junker from?” Billy asked.
“Dollar. They had the cheapest rates,” Travis said.
“Drop off the car and we’ll cab it back to the hotel.” Billy shared the backseat with Gabe, who was still shaken up. “You need to get a couple of stiff drinks into you.”
Gabe had started talking to himself. Billy feared that Gabe had perhaps suffered a nervous breakdown. Going to the emergency room was an option, except Gabe might start blabbing about stuff better left unsaid. Billy blew out his lungs.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Gabe said.
“Exactly how am I looking at you?” Billy asked.
“Like you’re going to pump a bullet in my head and dump me on the side of the road.”
“You think I’d do that to you after all we’ve been through? Come on, man, get real. We’re family, always will be.”
“I still don’t like the way you’re looking at me.”
“So I’ll look out the window if it makes you feel better.”
Gabe’s cell phone was ringing, and he pulled it out to stare at Caller ID. “It’s Elsie.” Gabe took the call and listened for a few moments while scrunching up his face. Something changed in him, the lost expression turning into one of deepening rage. Ending the call, he tucked the phone away and addressed Travis. “Drive back to my place.”
Gabe didn’t give the orders when they were on a job. Billy gave the orders.
“What are you doing?” Billy asked.
“My neighbor has a security camera on her garage.”
“So what?”
“She has a video of Nate’s killers. I want to see it.”
This was getting out of hand. Billy gave the orders and the crew followed them; for it to be any other way wouldn’t work. Travis stared into the backseat in his mirror. Travis had been scamming casinos before Billy recruited him and understood how the thieving game worked better than the others. Travis knew that Gabe was skating on thin ice, and that if Gabe kept acting out of turn, his days of running with Billy’s crew were over.
Billy dipped his chin. He also wanted to see this video. Hopefully, it contained a clear picture of Nate’s killers and would let Billy be prepared in case they came calling.
Travis did a nifty U-turn and drove back to Gabe’s subdivision.
Most in-home security cameras were pieces of junk that took grainy video that looked like it had been shot through a Coke bottle. These cameras did little more than provide their owners with a false sense of comfort and had never deterred a serious thief.
The device attached to the overhang of Elsie’s garage had been made in the good old US of A and was anything but cheap. A high-end three-megapixel bullet camera with digital signal processing and a wide lens, it had built-in infrared illuminators that recorded in stunning clarity even in total darkness. Intended to protect Elsie’s property, it also afforded an excellent picture of Gabe’s residence across the street, which was how it came to record Nate’s killers a few hours ago.
The security camera came with a software program that now resided on the hard drive of Elsie’s MacBook Air. Holding fresh mugs of coffee that Elsie had presented to them as they’d entered her house, Billy and Gabe sat at the dining room table and stared at the laptop’s screen. Gabe’s front lawn was visible on the video, as was his driveway and house. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
“They’ll be up in a second.” Elsie hovered behind their chairs. “They’re a couple of real bad hombres.”
As if on cue, an American-made car came into the picture, moving slowly. The car’s interior light was on, revealing two men occupying the front seats. The one riding shotgun shone a flashlight at Gabe’s mailbox, reading the address.