Things seemed to have changed since he was standing there pointing a pistol at me.
I shook my head, tried to clear the cobwebs. So tired. “Chief?”
The chief tsked, shook his head too but more like in a sad way, like he had to put down a pony with a broken leg. “You just couldn’t go home and mind your business, could you, son?”
Shit.
“Did you really gun down all them Jordans?” He chuckled. “Jesus, boy. I got to hand it to you. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
I looked him over then said, “You’re not wearing your hat.”
“Huh?” He ran his hands through his thinning salt and pepper hair. “Oh, yeah.” He grinned. “It got smudged.”
“I thought the blood … It wasn’t yours.”
“Nope,” Krueger said. “I got my hands dirty and got it on my lid. I guess maybe you got the wrong idea.”
“You burned down your own house, didn’t you?”
“I want them looking through the rubble for my body,” he said. “Give me a little more time to get away, find a place to lay low.”
I felt something like lead grow cold and heavy in my gut. “So you were in it with the Jordans and the Mexicans the whole time.”
“Hell no,” Krueger said. “I’d as soon have a pack of chimps working for me as the Jordans. Just Luke. We paid him to drive sometimes and to keep his mouth shut. Dumb son of a bitch can usually scrape enough brains together to take his pay and go on about his business without causing any trouble.”
“But not tonight.”
“No, not tonight,” Kruger said and sighed. “Horny bastard had to play funny with the sister of one of those banditos. Shouldn’t be surprised. Luke never could keep himself zipped up. But I guess you already know all about that.”
I summoned everything I had into a cold stare. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He smiled sadly, shook his head, and just for a minute the colorful old uncle was back. “No, I guess not. That’s fine. But anyway Luke Jordan got himself dead.”
“With the keys to the truck in his pocket,” I said.
“I got back to Luke with a body bag, wrapped him all up like it was police business. Didn’t want an audience while I searched him. People were looking out their windows. And I didn’t want the keys locked up in the evidence closet. So I took him back to my place. Luke was supposed to give the keys to Billy before he went off drinking at Skeeter’s.” For just a second, the chief looked pained. “I found Billy’s body. You did quite a number on him.”
“He needed it.”
“I can understand that,” Krueger said. “Just a damn shame is all. The whole situation’s just a damn shame, and that’s for sure. If things had turned out just a little different … well, they didn’t, and here we are. A shame.”
“What’s the shame, Chief? That Billy’s dead, or that you can’t smuggle illegals no more?”
“Now you just come down from your high horse, Toby. I care about my people. I care what happens to Billy. I’d care if it was you too. Fact is the smuggling was about to dry up anyway. This Mexican crime gang brings them over the border, and they come through here and get spread all over. Some to work mines out west or other places to work the crops. This was a quiet little nowhere stop to switch drivers and get the wetbacks some food and water. But there’s federal people sniffing around up north and border patrol getting tighter down south. Too risky now. Too bad we didn’t shut down a little sooner. Could have saved some trouble.”
Some trouble. I understood now how Roy reacted when he’d seen his truck all banged up, and I’d said there’d been some trouble. Understatement of the fucking year.
I nodded at the gun in his hand. “So what happens now?”
“Looks like I got to get the hell out of Dodge,” Krueger said. “No way to cover up this mess. You’ve had a busy night. But I don’t blame you. I surely don’t.” He shrugged. “Shit happens, as the saying goes. No grudges.”
“No grudges. That sounds good. So maybe put the gun away.”
“No, sorry, son, but I can’t do that. I’m going to shoot you all right, but it’s purely practical, not cause I’m upset with you. I promise. There’s just no other way this can happen.”
My heart sank all the way down to the bottom, but I couldn’t help thinking at least it would be over. The long hard night would end at last. Maybe somebody would call Doris and tell her to come get the boy. Thinking of my son brought that ache behind my eyes like when I’m about to start crying.
Oh God.
“Sorry, son.” And Krueger really did look sorry. Sorry, old and tired. “But I got to think of myself now, and this is the simplest way.”
He raised the pistol, and I felt a warm, fat tear roll down my cheek.
“Stop right there, Chief.”
Amanda had come through the back, had her pistol aimed at the chief, walking slowly forward. I could have kissed her.
Amanda said, “I’m making a habit out of saving you, Toby. Maybe you’d better—”
The chief didn’t hesitate, spun fast, bringing the pistol around. Amanda fired. The pistol flew from Krueger’s hand. He grunted, clenched his teeth, and brought the bloody hand to his chest. His face went pale, sweat breaking out on his forehead. His breathing went fast and heavy like he’d just run a mile.
“That’s some shot,” Krueger said. It was an effort for him to talk. Blood spilled down his wounded hand. “Just like Wyatt Earp.”
“I was aiming for your chest,” Amanda said.
Krueger chuckled.
She spared me a glance. “You okay, Toby?”
I nodded. “But it was close.”
She edged around Kruger toward me, keeping her gun on him. She backed up against the cell, fished into her pocket for the cell keys. “We’ll put him in here, and then call the doc to come—”
One arm came through the bars of the cell and went around Amanda’s throat. Another arm grabbed her gun wrist, pointed the pistol at the ceiling. She struggled, but the thick arms held her tight against the bars. Amanda went purple, her slim hand pulling uselessly at Karl’s massive forearm.
I turned, made ready to leap for my revolver on the floor.
Even wounded, the chief was too quick.
He was already coming up from the floor where he’d knelt to pull a small revolver from an ankle holster, probably the .32 I’d seen him cleaning once in awhile when things were slow around the station. Not a powerful gun, but plenty enough to make me pure dead.
I watched as Amanda kicked and twitched and then went limp. Karl released her and she slid to the floor.
“She dead?” Krueger asked.
“No,” Karl told him. “I put a sleeper on her.” Karl limped in his cell, held himself up by the bars.
“Can you walk?”
“No way,” Karl said. “Bitch shot me. I’m stiff all up and down one side. Couldn’t take more that two steps.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
The .32 spat fire twice, and Karl’s eyes went wide as he fell back on his cot, bounced off and hit the cell floor.
“Why in the hell did you do that?” I asked.
“I need a pair of good legs, and Karl would have wanted his cut of the money.”
“You could have given it to him.”
“And I would have too if everything hadn’t got so messed up,” Krueger said. “But the situation has changed. I’m going to need every dime if I have to go on the run. I might try to get to Mexico. Hey, that’s probably some kind of irony or something. All this time I been bringing wet-backs north. Now I got to smuggle myself south.”