"My turn," John Paul drawled a scant second before he sent Goatee sailing headfirst into the wall. He dropped the beer and
the ice on top of Mark, then fell down next to him.
They didn't have to tell the third drunk to join his friends. He staggered over, put the beer down, and sat. Leaning back, he
opened one can and took a long swallow.
Kenny realized John Paul was looking at the phone on the counter. "What I meant to say is that we got a phone. Of course
we do, but it ain't workin'. Line's down and it takes weeks and weeks to get a repairman to come all this way. In case you
haven't noticed, we're sittin' out in the middle of nowhere." He was talking so fast the words were tripping over each other.
Kenny could see John Paul wasn't buying it, and so he turned to Avery. The phony smile was back. "Your mister have a problem?" As he continued to smile at Avery, he slowly reached underneath the counter.
He looked down and too late realized he never should have taken his eyes off John Paul. He heard a click and jerked up to
find the barrel of John Paul's gun pointed at his forehead.
"Now hold on. No need for that," Kenny stammered.
"John Paul, we need this man's cooperation," Avery said.
"And this is how we get it," he replied. "Kenny, turn around and put your hands on the wall behind you. Avery, get his gun from under the counter."
She walked around the counter and immediately spotted the Magnum on the shelf underneath. She slowly picked it up and then checked it. The weapon was loaded and ready. She engaged the safety, noticed a box of cartridges, and grabbed that too. She put both in a plastic sack with a picture of a squirrel on it.
"What are you doing with a Magnum? Do you have a permit?" she asked Kenny.
"That's none of your damn, nosy business."
The good-old-boy facade was gone now. True colors were finally spewing out. Kenny's face twisted with rage as he snarled,
"I can refuse service to anybody I want to, and if I want to keep a loaded gun on the premises, then that's what I'm gonna do.
Can I turn around now? I'm getting a crick in my neck. You can use the phone. I was just… worried you was gonna make a long-distance call, and my cousin George, he's the man who owns this place, well, he would see the bill and then he'd say to me, 'Kenny, you're gonna pay for this.' "
"Where is George?" Avery asked.
"He got hisself attacked by an old brown bear. He didn't know she was there "until he saw one of her cubs," Kenny said.
"Can I turn around now and put my hands down? You can see I'm cooperatin' and you got hold of my gun."
"Yeah, sure," John Paul said.
Avery was heading for the phone when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a lady's billfold sticking out between two sales slips in the trash can next to the cash register. She leaned down to pick it up. Then she caught her breath. It was a new, black Prada billfold. Carrie owned everything Prada made.
Kenny was watching John Paul. "If you're gonna rob me, you might as well know I don't have much cash. Maybe two one-hundred-dollar bills and forty some in change."
"Where'd you get the hundred-dollar bills?" John Paul asked.
"A customer."
"We didn't come here to rob you," Avery said. She opened the billfold, saw that it was empty, and held it up for John Paul to see. "I think this belongs to my aunt."
Kenny grabbed her from behind. He wrapped his big arms around her in a bear hug and lifted her up so he could use her as a shield. His arms were like bands of steel, but his chest was soft, almost mushy.
"Let go of me," she ordered. "I don't have time for this."
Kenny was trying to duck down behind her so John Paul couldn't get a clear shot. "Not till your mister puts that gun down."
John Paul was surprised Avery wasn't frightened. If anything, he thought she looked put out. "That's not gonna happen," he said. "Avery, you'll have to change your clothes."
That remark got her full attention. She stopped squirming and asked, "Why?"
"Because I'm gonna get blood all over you when I blow this mother-"
"No," she said. "Kenny, I know this billfold belongs to my aunt, and I don't care that you took the money. But you're going to have to tell me where you got it. Now let go of me."
"No way," he snarled close to her ear and tightened his hold.
His fingers were interlocked around her waist. She took hold of one of his little fingers and jerked it back hard. At the same instant, she lowered her chin, then slammed the back of her head into his face. She heard a crunch as he gasped in pain and let go.
"Ouch," she whispered. Damn it, that hurt. She stepped away from Kenny and rubbed the back of her head as she walked over to John Paul. Not as simple as it looked in the movies, she thought. Lesson learned.
She noticed the incredulous look on John Paul's face. "What?" she asked.
His smile was slow and easy. "Not bad."
She rolled her eyes in exasperation and looked at Kenny, who was leaning into the counter. "I need to know where you got that billfold."
"It belonged to my wife, Chrystal. She got tired of it and tossed it in the trash."
"Stop lying. This is a matter of life or death," she said, her voice hostile now. "I really don't care if you took any money out of the billfold," she repeated. "But I need to know where you got it."
"I just told you…"
He wasn't going to admit anthing. Avery's initial panic had dissipated as soon as she'd spotted the billfold because now she knew she was in the right place. The tightness was still in her chest, however, and she was becoming infuriated over the man's uncooperative attitude.
Kenny's nose was bleeding. He held a Kleenex against his nostril and squinted at her. "I'm gonna sue you, bitch. That's what
I'm gonna do."
"John Paul, I think you're going to have to shoot him after all," she said.
Kenny didn't seem worried until John Paul asked Avery, "How about the kneecap?"
Fortunately, Kenny had become a true believer. "Okay, okay," he said. "When we opened up this morning, me and Chrystal found a package with her name on it." He pointed to Avery. "It was just sittin' there on the counter, so Chrystal decided to have a look inside."
"And?" Avery prodded.
"And it was just a red scarf. It had a perfume smell to it Chrystal didn't care for, so she stuffed it back in the envelope and tossed it in the trash."
"How did you get the billfold?" she asked.
"I was gettin' to that," he said, resentment brimming in his words. "A woman came in just a little bit ago. She held up a brand-new hundred-dollar bill in exchange for that package with the scarf, and we took it, of course. Then she grabbed another manila envelope from our shelf. Just helped herself to it. She turned around so we wouldn't see what she was doin' and put that billfold inside. After she sealed it, she wrote your name on it and told us she'd give us another hundred if we'd promise to tell you that she was gonna call and for you to stay here until she did."
"But you opened the envelope as soon as she left?" John Paul asked.
"No, not that second. It nagged at Chrystal, though. She just had to have herself a peek inside, and when she saw the billfold
filled with money, she helped herself. Anybody would've done the same thing."
Avery didn't waste time arguing ethics with him. "What exactly did the woman with the hundred-dollar bills say?"
"I already told you what she said."
"Tell her again," John Paul ordered.
"She's gonna call you. That's what she said. She told me she knew just about the time you folks would be coming into the store and said you was supposed to wait until she called."
"But you weren't going to tell us any of that, were you?" John Paul said. "You were going to send us on our way and never mention the billfold or the woman."