"Not far. Take us twenty, thirty minutes, depending on the coordinates he gives us."
"Then we'd still have to find them," McAllen said.
"We get enough cars up there," Ritchie said, "we can do it."
"But can we do it in time?"
Ritchie wasn't sure what he meant. "In time for what?"
"In time to keep him from killing himself," McAllen said.
13
Wiley was bored. She had finished her book. There wasn't anything else to read in the place but business and banking magazines and a few old Playboys. It was a little too cold to go in the pool-which wasn't much of a thrill even when it was warm. She was tired of lying in the sun but not tired enough to take a nap. The whole thing, lying around swimming pools, waiting, was getting to be a big goddamn bore.
And the ice in her iced tea had melted. She put the glass on the cement next to the lounge chair, snapped her orange bikini bottom a little higher on her can as she got up and went into the lodge, or whatever it was, that Frank said looked like a dude ranch.
It did look like a dude ranch. All those Indian blankets and animals looking out of the wall. She turned the hi-fi on, got some rock music she liked but didn't recognize and was patting her bare thighs gently, keeping time, when Frank came in the front door. Frank and Gene and the new one, the little smartass carrying a shotgun. She hadn't heard the car drive up.
"Well, hey. What's going on?"
The three of them were at the front windows, not paying any attention to her.
"I never seem to catch the beginning," Wiley said. "Will somebody tell me what's going on?"
She moved over a little, her hips keeping time with the music, to be able to look out the window, past Frank and across the open yard to where the long driveway came in through the trees. She didn't see the Olds; then she did-over to the side a little at the edge of the trees, as if hidden there. They were waiting for someone to come up the drive and as she realized this her hips stopped keeping time and she thought of the police.
"You think," Wiley said, "I should start packing or what?"
"He's in the trees," Renda said.
"He could be," Lundy said, "if he saw us turn. But maybe he didn't."
Renda looked over his shoulder at Wiley. "Give me the glasses. Over on the table."
"Would you mind telling me something?"
"Give me the glasses."
He raised the window and got down on his knees, took the binoculars as she handed them to him and rested his elbows on the sill. The trees were close to him now, dark in there but clearly defined as he adjusted the focus, scanned slowly toward the drive, held for a while, trying to see down the length of the dirt road, then back again, slowly. He stopped. From the side of a tree about twenty feet into the woods, Majestyk was aiming a rifle at him.
With the sound of the shot, the glass above his head shattered. Renda dropped below the sill to his hands and knees, in a crouch. There was a silence before he heard the man's voice, coming from the trees.
"Frank, let's finish it. Come on, I got work to do."
Wiley watched Frank crawl from beneath the window and stand up, turning to put his back against the wall. She expected him to yell something at the guy, answer him, but he didn't. He was looking at her with a thoughtful sort of pleased expression; not really happy, but relaxed as he drew a.45 automatic from underneath his jacket. She still didn't know what was going on.
Majestyk handed Nancy the rifle and picked up the shotgun, leaning against a tree, as he saw the front door open.
Wiley came out in her orange bikini. She seemed at ease, even though she was looking around, more curious than afraid. Coming across the lawn she said, "Where are you?"
"Over here," Majestyk said. He saw her gaze turn this way, but was sure she couldn't see him yet.
"Frank's not home," Wiley said. "You want to come in and wait?" He didn't answer now and she turned to go. "Well, it was nice talking to you."
"Wiley-"
She stopped and looked back. "Yeah?"
"Come here."
"I don't know where you are."
"Over here. That's right."
He waited until she was in the trees, more cautious now, and finally saw where they were standing. "What's he doing?" Majestyk said. "He want you to point to me so he can shoot?"
"I told you, he's not home."
"The car's over there."
"It belongs to somebody else."
"Wiley, tell Frank the cops are on the way. Tell him if he wants to settle it he hasn't got much time."
She hesitated. "Police, huh. Listen, this really hasn't got anything to do with me. I just happen to stop by."
"Who else is in there? How many?"
She hesitated again. "Just Frank… and two others. God, he's going to kill me."
Majestyk turned to Nancy. "Put her in the truck. Drive back to the road and wait for me there."
Wiley said to Nancy, "I really don't know what's going on. I don't have any clothes or anything."
"Don't worry, I'll give you a nice outfit," Nancy said, and looked at Majestyk again. "Vincent, wait for the police, all right?"
"If they come," he said, "but right now it's still up to him."
They couldn't see her now. There had been a spot of orange in the trees, but now that was gone. "Where'd she go?" Kopas said. He didn't like it at all. Five people dead, the man out there waiting for them. The man must be crazy, all he'd done.
"He grabbed her," Lundy said. He was holding his big magnum, resting it on the windowsill.
Why would he? Kopas was thinking and said, "Maybe they left. He sees we got him, so he took her and cut out."
"He's there," Renda said, sure of it now, since he had begun to know the man, understand him. "Son of a bitch, we got to suck him out. Or go in after him."
Kopas said, "You mean walk out there?"
Renda looked at him. "If I tell you to."
Majestyk came up to the Olds 98 through the trees, keeping low, and there was nothing to it. The next part he'd have to do and not worry about and if they spotted him and fired he'd have to back off and think of something else. He opened the front door on the passenger side, waited a moment, then slid in headfirst over the seat and pulled the key out of the ignition. Coming out he looked at the backrest of the seat cushion, at the two bullet holes that were hardly noticeable. Just a little more to the left. He wished he'd taken a couple more seconds. It would have saved him a lot of trouble.
They could still come out the front while he worked around through the trees to the back, but it wouldn't do them any good now. They weren't going anywhere, unless on foot, and then it would be even easier.
That's what he did: cut across the open to the blind side of the house and stayed close to it as he made his way around to the patio.
It could work because they wouldn't expect him. Get up to a window or the glass door underneath the sundeck, shove the pump gun in, and wait for somebody to turn around. He moved past the lounge chair Wiley had been using a little while before, his eyes on the window. Even if he had looked down then he might not have seen the iced tea glass, it was so close to the chair. By the time he did see it he had kicked it over-hearing it like a window breaking-and all he saw were the broken fragments and a piece of lemon on the wet cement.
Renda turned from the front window. He stood listening, holding the.45 automatic at his side, then raised it as he started across the room toward the patio door. Lundy followed him.
Kopas waited. He wasn't sure he wanted to go over there. He watched Renda press against the glass panes to look out, trying to see down the outside wall of the house. Kopas knew he'd have to open the door and stick his head out to see anything. He wondered if Renda would open the door, if he'd go out. Christ, it would take guts.
He heard Renda say to Lundy, "You stay here. I'm going up on the sundeck. I spot him I'll yell to you."
Lundy nodded, holding the big mag, and moved in close to the door as Renda came back across the room. Kopas still didn't know what to do. He was sure, though, he didn't like being here with the guy right outside, the guy maybe poking a gun in a window any minute.