“Everybody said he was a bad man. People think he raped a girl up here, but she couldn’t ID him. And he must’ve been wearing a condom, or something, because the guy before me ran her down to the hospital and got a rape kit done that came up negative on DNA. There’s rumors around that he might have killed a guy out in the desert, an ex-partner of his. He’s supposedly a prospector, but he never came up with any gold, far as I know.”
The bottom line was that Ralph Deese no longer lived where the motorcycle put him and nobody knew where he currently was, though the deputy said he’d ask around.
Tremanty hung up and said to Lucas, “Asking around is going to be too late.”
Lucas said, “Listen. When I was talking to Roger Smith back in New Orleans, he said that the Deese brothers had an uncle out here. That’s got to be who this is. He said the uncle was a miner, that he looked for turquoise. I remember because that seemed like a weird thing, to mine. You think there’d be some kind of claim, or whatever they do out here. Something with a location and a name.”
“I dunno, but I can find out,” Tremanty said. “Give me one more minute.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
The gang’s day began at five in the morning with an argument: Ralph wouldn’t be going to Las Vegas because they were taking his truck and they only had room for two. Cox argued that they should take both vehicles, the truck and the Lexus, and abandon the Lexus when they released Gloria.
“That ain’t gonna work. Gloria will know about the truck, and we couldn’t outrun a fuckin’ Prius in that thing,” Deese said. “Me’n Cole are going down, that’s all we need. Right now, Gloria doesn’t know where she’s at, and we’ll keep it that way. You and Ralph wait here, watching her.”
“I gotta stay with Ralph?”
“Yeah, you gotta stay with Ralph.”
Cox looked at Cole, who looked at Ralph and said, “You touch her, I’ll beat you to death with a fuckin’ shovel. I ain’t joking.”
Ralph held up both hands. “She’s safe with me.”
“That’s the way it’s gonna be,” Deese said.
Cox and Cole went outside, and Cox said, “Gloria knows who we are. We’re really . . . I don’t know. Ralph is crazy as a bedbug.”
“Then keep your gun close.”
They went to the Lexus and retrieved the gun, keeping an eye on the trailer. “Like Marion said, start pulling the trigger, that’s all you gotta do, if Ralph comes after you. Easy as pie.”
“Easy as pie, but you said you never shot anybody.”
“Never had to,” Cole said. “But now we’re in a bad spot, Geenie.”
“Ah, jeez . . .” She took the gun and tucked it into her back waistband, under her blouse. “You gotta be careful, Cole. We’re going to somewhere warm.”
“Like hell?” He grinned.
“Panama, like you said.”
“I’ll be careful. When we get back up here, you slip me that gun,” Cole said. “If Deese is gonna pull something, that’s when it’ll be, when he feels safe.”
The door of the trailer popped open and Deese stepped out. Cole kissed Cox and said, “We oughta be back by noon. If we’re not back by, say, two o’clock, you get in the Lexus and head north, up to Reno. Dump the car and take a Greyhound back to LA. Like you never heard of us.”
“Ah, that’s not going to happen,” Deese said. He walked over to Ralph’s motorcycle and said, “Help me get it in the truck.”
“You’re sure it works?”
Deese paused, said, “One way to find out.”
He straddled the bike, fired it up, rode a hundred yards down the track and back, then killed the engine. “Good as the day it was made.”
He and Cole lifted it into the truck, put the tailgate up, and locked it. “Let’s go.”
Cole kissed Cox again and she gave him a squeeze and said, “See you,” and a minute later Deese and Cole were rattling down the track toward the highway.
* * *
—
THEY WERE in Las Vegas at seven-thirty, and Deese sent Cole into a McDonald’s for Cokes and a sack of Triple Breakfast Stacks Biscuits; they both ate two—in the truck, in the parking lot—and then Cole drove them to the drainage channel and the entrances to the tunnels, with Deese pointing the way.
“I’ll be hiding under that bridge when he throws the money in and then I’ll ride