I looked at this tough, foolish old man, whose hole cards had proved nothing more than a busted flush. I studied this sick disease-raddled old termagant, his eyes rheumy with the inner knowledge he'd fed his only daughter to Moloch. There was a desperate self-denial happening inside him, but he knew what he’d done – he knew just fine.
And as for me? I knew that making a single comment about it would be sure and certain suicide. Pardon me if I kept my yap shut on that one. You’d have done the same I’ll bet.
“I’m cleaning up loose ends tonight,” Tubbs said. “So tell me, Markus – are you a loose end?”
Tubbs laughed when I didn’t answer. “What do you think Spale?” he asked Meshback Number One. “Is Markus here a loose end?”
“Yeah, boss.” Spale’s cheek was glued to his rifle stock as he aimed dead at my head. “He’s a loose end all right.”
Tubbs laughed again, glanced at me slyly. “That’s one vote against you, but I got the executive veto power. The way I see it we have two ways to go Markus: either I treat you like a loose end, like your friend Rick here – or I let you call in your marker and I let you leave. Which is it gonna be?”
“Marker,” I mumbled.
“What’s that?” he asked, cupping his hand to his ear. “Show some gratitude, boy. Who do you think made them hold off on you this whole time? Who do you think called SBPD off Moose Creek Road tonight so you had a free shot at Jansen? Speak up and show some respect here, son – you’re in my ballpark.”
“I’m calling in my marker, sir,” I said, looking at the ground. I almost had to admire his bald faced lying. They’d only held off because I was too prominent with the cameras right now for me to conveniently disappear just yet. Tubbs had only pulled the cops off Moose Creek Road so Reese could take out Jansen without interference.
My politeness was less than sincere, but Tubbs nodded as if satisfied. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He glanced down the road in the direction of the Gardens. “Looks like you’ve built up quite a little following amongst those people, Markus – some of the other folk in Stagger Bay seem to like you some too.
“I know what that’s like: You take responsibility for things; you think you can make a difference in their lives. But pretty soon you’re compromising yourself and you’re trapped by the power. You know things are going to go smash soon enough, but there’s no stopping that machine – you’re in for the duration.
“Everyone thinks you’re the one driving, but you’re really just the hood ornament. You’re racing head-on at a brick wall. You’re right up front on that hood and you can see it all coming up on you, but there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” He shook his head, looking at the ground at his feet.
He came back to the present. “Besides, what kind of friends are they? Here we are, you and me, talking about life and death on this beautiful night – and those people are nowhere to be seen. It’s just us, and you’re all alone.”
He shrugged. “You were heading on out of Stagger Bay anyway, weren’t you?”
“Well,” I said, “I was sure thinking about it.”
“Don’t think too long – we’re even now, for what you did for my girl. No more markers from me, and our paths had best not cross again. Time to leave Stagger Bay, Markus.”
Tubbs turned to go but then stopped. “Oh, by the way. Looks like I was premature to be promising you that quarter of a mil. It seems now like the bank account never even existed, and all the paperwork’s been lost.
“That’s the price you pay, eh? But you made it clear you didn’t really want anything I was offering you anyways. Quite a disappointment, I’m sure – but I promise you, you’re not the only one feeling let down these days.”
As Tubbs and Spale got into the car, soon-to-be-ex-Officer Rick Hoffman sat in the back seat, his gaze lifeless, his lips moving silently as he contemplated the reversal of fortune that was about to earn him his own private plot in the piney woods, maybe in the same exact place he’d planned on planting me, Sam, Elaine, and Little Moe. As soon as Tubbs had his butt in the shotgun seat, the Bronco started off down hill toward its ultimate destination.
Chapter 60
Sam, Elaine and Little Moe climbed out from the underbrush where they’d been hiding. Elaine plucked pine needles off her fancy clothes; she really wasn’t dressed for tonight’s brand of entertainment. Sam looked pretty sheepish but I liked that he’d had the sense not to be a hero and watched out for Little Moe and Elaine instead.
“You called me Dad,” I observed as we wrestled the spike strip into the gutter so no one else would drive over it.
Sam snorted and we started to roll the Continental to the side of the road. But my injured leg spasmed and collapsed under me as I pushed, and I wound up on my ass.
“Your leg’s bleeding still,” Sam observed as he continued to push the car alone. Elaine came to me, pulled off her scarf, and began tying it tight around my upper thigh.
I didn’t feel guilty at all for not helping Sam muscle the car toward the shoulder of the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other pushing on the open door. Judging by how much he huffed and sweated, a 70s Lincoln Continental rolling on nothing but rims was a lot of dead-weight Detroit iron. Maybe his next car would be a compact.
“You were surprised I was waiting when you came out the house,” Elaine whispered, continuing to fuss with her scarf even though it was tight enough around my leg by then. “You know, you may have all the others fooled, but I know your secret.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She chuckled quietly and leaned in with brows arched, her smile mocking but not unfriendly. “You're terrified people will figure out you’re a nice guy.”
I was bemused, wondering why she would say something so blatantly nonsensical. “Sure, that’s me all right. The milk of human kindness just kind of oozes from my pores in a fine mist.”
Elaine glanced over at Sam, who’d finished pushing the Connie to the side of the road but still leaned on the rear bumper catching his breath. “I can’t let you keep on threatening to turn him against me, Markus. It ends right now,” she said. “No matter what I do on the side, I would never do anything to harm Sam, or you.
“Don’t
“Well, you’re here, ain’t you?” I said.
“What up?” Sam asked.
“I’m just welcoming Elaine into the family, boy. Such as it is, of course.”
“And what about that?” Sam asked, looking at Hoffman’s cop car. The strobes still turned; that disco trouble light still shot its rays out, painting the surrounding trees as it spun.
“Leave it be,” I said. “It makes a nice nightlight.”
Chapter 61
Little Moe stumbled as we walked down the hill and I was limping pretty bad by then. Sam scooped him up to carry him, and I’ll admit to leaning on Sam’s shoulder fairly hard myself. Elaine was stuck carrying Karl’s box but she didn’t seem unhappy to be lugging it: judging by how she kept looking down into it every few seconds, she was impatient to get some alone-time with Karl’s notes.
“Could it really be that simple?” I asked as we gimped our motley parade down the road.
“Backwoods racists and people with no fishing and logging jobs anymore, willing to go along with pretty much anything as long as they get a paycheck from the development boom. A twisted devil worshiping freak hiding behind being Chief of Police, with the very cops that should be busting him taking orders from him instead. And a hillbilly mafia running everything from behind the scenes, trying to clear out the riff-raff so they can cash in on all that outside money pouring their way.