chip. He wouldn’t use it unless it became absolutely necessary, of course, and, if all went according to plan, it wouldn’t. He would be able to keep the Welch’s take all to himself, and neither parent would be the wiser.
If all went according to plan. There were still hindrances to success that must be eliminated. Which brought him back to Brian Foster. “What concerns me,” Rusty said, “is what Burnet will do or say.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’ll try to cut a deal. I’m afraid he’ll rat us out in exchange for a lighter drug charge.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“In a heartbeat.”
“The four of us made a pact.”
“Pact,” Rusty snickered. “You think a promise matters to that guy? You don’t know him like I do. He’s surly. Resentful. Believe me, he would betray us.”
Foster moaned an appeal to the almighty. “What are we going to do?”
“Well, first, we’re not going to panic. Burnet won’t parley until he’s talked to his lawyer. My guess is that their meeting won’t take place till morning, and maybe not till Monday, ’cause tomorrow’s Easter. But, in case I’m wrong, we need to hide this money. Tonight. Now.”
“Right, right. Hide it.”
“Where should we meet?”
“Meet?” Foster’s voice rose an octave. “You and me?”
“I’m not doing this alone, Foster.”
“But—”
“If something happened to me, nobody would know where the money was stashed.”
“What could happen to you?”
“Anything. Jesus! I could have a car wreck, fall in a fucking sinkhole. Anything. But what really scares me? If Burnet talks, he’ll give me over first, and it won’t matter that my daddy’s the sheriff. They’ll be after me. I can’t be caught with this money.
“If Burnet is granted bail, he’ll come after me. He’ll want to shut me up. Probably all of us.” He built in a strategic pause. A little longer. Then, “Look, never mind. I’ll figure it out for myself.”
“No, wait. Give me a sec to think.”
Rusty smiled but made himself sound put out. “Well, think fast. I’ve got to move on this.”
“I’ll help you.”
“If you’re afraid, if you’re going to be whimpering like a little girl the whole time—”
“No, I’m all right. Just nervous. But I don’t think Burnet will break the pact. I really don’t.”
“Think what you want. I’m counting on him selling us out. Which means…”
“What?”
“Well, I’m thinking that in addition to hiding the money, we need a fall guy.”
“Someone to take the blame?”
“That’s what fall guys do, Foster.”
“I know, I know, but—”
“We may not need one, but we should have it set up in case Burnet double-crosses us.”
Foster ruminated on it for so long that Rusty was ready to scream by the time he said, “Yeah, okay. It’s probably a good idea. But who?”
“The town drunk, otherwise known as Joe Maxwell.”
Chapter 14
Ledge sat with his legs wide apart, hands loosely clasped between his knees, head down, staring at the floor and wishing to God he could rewind the clock to when he’d woken up this morning and live today over again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be behind bars, sharing space with a stinking urinal.
But, hell, he probably would be. As Rusty had so accurately pointed out: In all this time, he hadn’t learned a damn thing.
“Burnet!”
Ledge raised his head. A deputy was unlocking the cell door. Ledge knew him to be a veteran of the sheriff’s office, long in the tooth and a heart attack waiting to happen. Perpetually short of breath, he wheezed when he talked. “Get your ass out of here. You’re free to go.”
“How come?”
“Do you care?”
“I haven’t even called a lawyer yet.”
“Then I guess this visit is on the house. Come on, move it. My pizza’s getting cold.”
Ledge quit arguing and stepped out of the cell. The deputy caught him by the sleeve. “It’ll piss me off good if I see you back in here.”
Ledge pulled his arm free. “Shouldn’t have been in here today.”
“Debatable. From what I’ve heard, anyway. But the DA thought it over and didn’t deem your offense arrest-worthy after all.”
“He’s all heart.”
The deputy gave a gruff snort. “Another deputy will meet you at that door and escort you out.” He pointed Ledge toward the end of the corridor, then shot a glance up at the security camera, leaned closer to Ledge, and whispered, “Do yourself a favor. Steer clear of the turd. You understand what I’m saying?”
Ledge bobbed his chin. “Thanks. A beer is on me the next time you come into the bar.”
“Wife’s got me off it.” He slapped his potbelly. “Says I’m getting fat.”