“You know that’s true,” Arlen said. “That’s the way he runs his show, sure enough. And if they understand that much, then they ought to be able to believe what we have to say. Hell, they may have seen it before.”
Owen blew out a held breath and leaned over and picked up the whiskey glass for the first time, drank until it was half gone.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s give it hell, then.”
Arlen nodded. “We’ll go in the morning. First thing.”
“To Barrett?”
He nodded again.
Rebecca said, “Owen should wait. I’ll go alone.”
Arlen cocked his head and frowned. “I expect they’re going to want to talk with him, too. You can’t do his bidding for him.”
“I don’t intend to. But by tomorrow, the police might not be the only ones watching. The two of us go into Barrett’s store and stay there long enough, or go off to wherever he’ll take us next, we’ll be seen. And on a day like tomorrow, that’s not something we want. Not all of us. Wade’s placed his trust in Owen, and he knows that I won’t do anything to jeopardize my brother. So as long as Owen stays here, we’ll keep them at ease.”
Owen said, “She’s right,” but Arlen was already nodding.
“Okay,” he said. “But I’ll go with you. We’ll see Barrett together. First thing in the morning.”
“First thing in the morning,” she echoed, and with that Owen raised his glass and drained the rest of the whiskey. He didn’t say a word, but his face was the color of the stones that lined the fireplace behind him.
45
DAWN BROKE WITH A gorgeous crimson sunrise. No trace of the night’s rains remained, but all that red in the east was a warning sky. They ate a quiet breakfast as the sun cleared the treetops and filled the yard with warm light, and then Arlen said, “Well, we best be to it, don’t you think?”
Rebecca nodded. “You’ll both stay here?” she said to Owen and Paul.
“Sure,” Owen said. “Just another day.” But then he cleared his throat and said, without looking at her, “How are we fixed in the way of guns?”
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Why on earth-”
“It’s a good question,” Arlen interrupted, “and a good idea. Leave him one of the pistols. We’ll take the other. There are rifles on the boat.”
She didn’t seem to like it, but she went upstairs and returned with the Smith & Wesson revolvers. Owen accepted one, and Arlen took the other.
“All right,” Arlen said. “Y’all keep a weather eye out till we’re back. Could be we’re coming back alone, could be with a few police.”
Owen said, “Best not do that.”
Arlen frowned. “I expect they’ll see it the other way.”
“Maybe so,” Owen said, “but anybody who sets foot on this property today will be seen. You make them aware of that.”
Rebecca said, “We should take the money with us.”
“Why?” Arlen asked.
“Show of good faith to Barrett. He’s not going to just believe us out of the good nature of his heart. We have to have something that backs up our story.”
“What if someone comes looking for the money?” Owen said. “What if Solomon sends Tolliver or Tate to check on me? What in the hell am I supposed to tell them?”
It wasn’t a bad point. Arlen thought about it, then said, “Okay, we leave half here, in that case Tolliver brought it down in. It doesn’t seem likely that they’ll actually count it. They trust you.”
He hoped.
There was nothing else to be said then, nothing else to be done except for Arlen and Rebecca to drive down the road and put this day in motion. Arlen turned to Paul, who looked up and met his eyes. He felt as if he should say something, offer some word of caution or advice, but none came to mind, so he settled for another nod, which Paul returned. Then he and Rebecca went out into the yard-Arlen tucking the pistol into his belt and guarding it with his arm, conscious of what Owen had said about watchers-and got into the truck. The golden light of the morning sun picked up Rebecca’s hair and made it shimmer as she sat behind the wheel and cast him an exhausted gaze.
“This will help?” she said. “Won’t it?”
“Yes,” he said. Then she started the truck and they were off.
They didn’t say much as they rode, but once, she reached out for his hand across the cab. Her jaw was set and her face calm. She had firm bracings within her, he knew. After watching her deal with the hurricane and Wade and the delivery of that damned cigar box, he knew that awfully well. They’d hold today, just as they’d held before. He wasn’t worried about her.
Owen was more of a question. He didn’t seem enamored with the plan, no doubt had a con’s natural disfavor of anything that involved cooperation with the law. So long as he stayed put at the inn and nobody came looking for him, though, there shouldn’t be trouble. Arlen wished Paul had left already, boarded that final train of the night, but after the revelation he’d shared just before its departure, that had hardly been an option.
The roads were empty. Arlen watched the mirrors for a following car but saw none. He tended to agree with Owen, though; McGrath and his sons were keeping an eye on the activity at the Cypress House.
The garage doors were up at Barrett’s service station, his day already begun. Rebecca parked in front, and they opened the door and saw the pretty Indian girl behind the counter again. The inside of the shop smelled of tobacco and molasses, already thick with humidity.
Barrett’s wife nodded a hello to them, but before Rebecca could say a word the door from the garage opened and Barrett stepped inside. He’d seen them come in, Arlen could tell that from the way he entered, and for just a second something flickered in his face, a quick look of unease. Then he folded it beneath one of those grins of his and said, “Mornin’. What has y’all up so early?”
“Is there someplace we could talk in private?” Rebecca said.
He frowned. “Something the matter?”
“Should anyone else happen by,” she said, “I doubt you’ll want this conversation overheard.”
He gave up the game right then. Arlen expected he’d drag it out a bit, but instead he just nodded like he’d been expecting this and said, “The boy talked.”
“Because he needed to,” Arlen said. “He might’ve saved some lives, Barrett. You got no idea what sort of operation you’re putting into action tonight.”
“No?” Barrett’s jaw worked, anger showing in his eyes, and then he said, “Okay, follow me.”
He walked across the warped floorboards and back through the door into the garage. His wife didn’t say a word as they passed, but she looked noticeably tense, her eyes on the road as if she expected to see someone at their heels already. Arlen cast a look back at her as he went through the door and saw that there was a small revolver on a shelf beneath the cash register.
Barrett tugged the overhead garage doors down, sealing them in the dank, musty room. He put a stool in front of Rebecca and then sat on a stack of tires by the far wall. Arlen stood.
“I could have y’all arrested right now,” Barrett said. “And maybe I still will. But I’ll hear it first.”
“It’s her story,” Arlen said, “so I’ll let her do the telling. But let’s make something clear at the start-you want Wade. Not Rebecca, not Owen, not McGrath. You’re after Wade and Tolliver.”
“I want to clean the trash out of this county, and I’ll do that one at a time if I need to.”
Arlen said, “Really?”