LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

cops pulled him over. Boy had to run for his life just to avoid going to jail. And from what I hear, jails in Texas aren’t much better than Mexican prisons, keep you just alive enough to be available for the torture.”

      Frankie’s throat constricted. Anger heated his face. He was the one put the plates on the van. Couldn’t find the proper screws in Ryan’s filthy garage and used the wire things from the box of rubbish sacks. Doubled ’em up to make sure. Seemed enough at the time. Somebody must’ve fucked with ‘em out on the road. Had to be it. But clearly Bob Ryan wouldn’t find the news very joyful. And Arndt running his gob to the man wouldn’t help matters at all. Frankie took a long pull on his cocktail, looked Sam in the eye and said, “Yer boy’s story sounds a bit queer, don’t ya think, Sam? Sure yer boy ain’t got his trousers full of Bob’s cash?”

      “Jimmy is my most trusted man, Frankie. You really think he’d still be lingering around if he’d taken it?”

      “Ya got a point there, Sam. So ya think yer Jimmy would be available for a confab? Bob’s flying down tonight and I ‘magine he’ll desire a bit of a gab with yer ‘most trusted man’.”

      “Yes,” Sam said, making a face like he was freakin’ about Ryan arriving. “I’m sure Jimmy will be available. Just say the word and I’ll tell him where to meet us.”

      “Didn’t give ya his location, yer most trusted man?”

      “Would you if you’d lost Bob Ryan’s money?”

      “Again ya got a point, Sam. Least he’s not grassin’ us out to the law. Least we got that goin’.”

      “Exactly. Jimmy will be here when I say. I can call him anytime.”

      “First things first, Sam.”

      Sam fidgeted in the chair watching Frankie type out a text. A long one. Sam stared out the tinted window at the palm trees moving in the wind. Wind always seemed to blow down here in Texas. Then Frankie finished texting, knocked down the last of his cocktail and searched for a waitress, catching the eye of a cute little brown girl. Frankie ordered another drink. Sam didn’t order anything. Watching Neelan slurp Sam was fighting the urge to get up and leave when Frankie’s phone sounded on the tabletop. Sam took slow deep breaths and watched Frankie’s face for an inkling of what Ryan was texting, Sam’s stomach doing somersaults.

      Time seemed to stand still. Sam looked at the clock on the wall behind the bar, stared at the hands not moving. Clock had no numbers on it, just little gold lines where the numbers should be. Finally Frankie looked up. “Bob said his web masters came up with the moniker of the highway copper watching the road that night, Sammy. Bloke name of Dan Henning. Patrolman Dan Henning of the Tex-ass State Poopers. Our boy Henning punched out that night leaving no record of the van or any confiscated cash, some citizen called it in the next day. Bob says we should have a look at the trooper’s dwelling, maybe converse with him about the current rate of currency exchange.”

      “I don’t think that would be at all wise, Frankie. What if it’s a trap to attract the owners of the cash? We going to walk in and introduce ourselves as the money launderers from Minnesota?”

      “It’s good ya got yer sense of humor, Sammy. But that might be the only play we got. Y’know, at least until Bob shows up we just have to keep a grip on the reins and hold steady. But I gotta tell ya one thing, I wouldn’t be shocked at all if Bob sends you off to the cop shop to claim the green. It’s well known how your people don’t trust banks.”

      “My people?”

      “You towelheads. I’ve read the magazine articles about you dudes stashing yer savings in coffee cans and flowerpots and shite like that. Seems like a logical enough excuse for stuffin’ cash in the wall panels of yer van, ya ask me.”

      “So this was my life savings and I was transporting it down to border country in a van belonging to somebody else—for what purpose?”

      “Fuck me if I know, that’s somethin’ you and Bob will have to blade out.”

      9

      Daddy’s enthusiasm for father-son bonding was facing adversity. Danny’d asked nonstop questions what seemed like all day long and didn’t stop ‘til he finally fell asleep watching TV. Which meant Henning had to cut back on his drinking. And goddamnit, he had a bag full of reasons for celebrating. But that was no huge problem and he was dealing with it okay, at least until Cyn called and pissed him off, got him fucking furious if you want to know, and that required a shot or two of JW just to tamp down the desire to smash something.

      But the night wasn’t all bad. No. Carrying the sleeping boy from the couch to the bedroom brought back some of Daddy’s good memories. Memories of the first two years of the boy’s life. Back when everything seemed so much better around here. Made Henning wonder how he’d gotten away from little things like that.

      Must be the goddamn job, Henning thought, sitting on the couch staring at his empty low-ball glass. Goddamn graveyard shift throwing the whole marriage off course. Made him drink more and seek out whores and generally complicated his entire life. But a man had to support his family, didn’t he? That’s what a man did. And women and kids have to adjust to the man’s schedule. That’s the way things are supposed to be. Way things have always been. He’d put a roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes in the closets. And no, it wasn’t the fanciest stuff you’ll ever see, certainly not at the level Cyn’s old boyfriend Funky Bunky Owen could afford, but guys like Owen spent their lives working and selling and chasing after bucks instead of learning how to please a woman in the bedroom, something Henning believed himself quite proficient at.

      So where the hell had that part gone?

      First two years they couldn’t get enough of each other but now they fought more than they boned. Brought to mind that old deal about putting a penny in a jar every time you did it the first year of marriage and taking one out every time you did it after the first year, boys on the force claiming you’d never empty the jar.

      No way Dan believed that. But the concept was beginning to spend more time in his thoughts than he appreciated, now and then making him wonder if he wasn’t doing something wrong. Or not doing something right. And now when he had the means to make things right—get Cyn her dream house somewhere—the goddamn woman was gone. Bag full of cash could buy a lot of mornings in bed and days watching the kid grow up and she picks now to have her goddamn identity crisis. Wasn’t so predictable it’d be hard to believe.

      Soon as he caught up to her they could start making things right.

      * * *

      Big Dan had tossed and turned a bit during the night but this morning felt pretty good. Only had a few drinks last night, which maybe had something to do with feeling good. Danny’d wandered into the bedroom earlier, boy jumping in the bed just as Dan was drifting off again, but the kid’s smile and energy were so infectious Henning caught some of it. Dan never had much love for the beach but today he was truly looking forward to it. They’d start the day with Danny’s favorite breakfast: pancakes and Jimmy Dean sausage.

      Dan took the box of Bisquick from the shelf and got a large bowl from the cupboard. Seeing the excitement and anticipation in his son’s eyes, Henning felt like he’d found a lost treasure. It was something both foreign and kind of familiar, this joy of parenting—if joy wasn’t too strong a word—and the feeling would keep him going long enough to show Cyn they didn’t need her around if she was gonna act like a cunt. He and Danny would hit the beach and collect a few shells and maybe even go in the water if the damn red tide was over with. Afterwards they could throw down a few cheeseburgers at Whataburger and then take in a movie or rent a video. And when Monday rolled around, take the kid to the daycare before going to headquarters and requesting emergency leave for as long as it took his crazy wife to come skulking back home. His fellow officers would not hear that part of the scenario—only the story of his struggling marriage and his need for a prolonged leave of absence to deal with these pressing family issues.

      Anyway, that’s what

Скачать книгу