Authors: Charlie Price
“Disappear me like you did Ramona?” It slipped out and Grace bit her lip.
Now he has even more reason to kill me.
Hammond sat back for a moment, gave Larry another look. Put hand to mouth briefly, thinking. “Hear me now. Nobody, especially not us, wants to hurt you. But you have to believe what I’m telling you. You can’t be around spreading bullshit rumors. Can’t. Understand?”
Grace risked a glance at his face. Red and angry. Acid rose in her throat.
“Ramona got … okay, Bolton called ICE and reported her. She was getting pretty nosy and I’d given her a job she couldn’t have gotten anywhere else. In this county anyway. So she could be close to a friend she came up with. I was the good guy here. And she began snooping. Why? Stupidest thing she could have done. Immigration picked her off the streets. Deported her, same day. End of story.”
That was possible. Ramona was pretty, and sweet with the customers, but she had some kind of attitude. Grace never knew her well enough to guess what that was about. Well, she could guess. Mackler.
“So what I’m telling you is that we were fine when you decided to move on. But here you are again, this time bringing the blackmail. It won’t fly…”
Grace knew this was the important part of what he wanted to say but she was distracted. People, three people, had crested the hill and were walking toward Hammond’s house. His back was to them and Larry had a bad angle. What should she do?
77
“A
RE YOU LISTENING
?”
Grace snapped to, hoped she hadn’t given anything away with her eyes. “Yes.”
“So we have a good deal. And a bad deal. Which do you want to hear first?”
Grace swallowed, trying to keep the acid down, but the fear was literally making her sick. “Bad.” It came out like a whisper. She wanted to do better, appear more confident, but she was losing it.
“Okay, hypothetically. When a person leaves town, runs without a trace, doesn’t matter, young or old, people write them off. They’re gone. Never hear from them again. Nobody knows what happened to the person after they went away. After a while, nobody cares. Everybody in Portage thinks you’re gone.”
Not everybody.
“You were a runaway to start with. You probably run a lot.”
Mick and JJ
could
think I ran this time. I was going to.
“So nobody’s going to exactly wonder what happened to you. Nobody’s going to worry. You’re just gone. Your choice. See where I’m going with this? If Larry had hurt that waitress, no one, ever, would have found the body. There wouldn’t be a body. See what I mean?”
Grace was forcing herself to hear his words, but, sneaking glances, she was pretty sure that was Mick and JJ walking closer with some man. Gary? She couldn’t tell.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Hammond looked at Larry again. “You said she was smart.”
Larry shrugged.
“I’m listening,” Grace said. “I’m just scared.”
“Good. That’s important. Because that hypothetical situation I said? That could happen to someone. They run away, they’re never seen again.”
Grace nodded.
“Okay, the good deal?” He waited until Grace looked at him again. “Not so hypothetical. Larry could drive you out of here. We give you more traveling money … while you were resting we saw you already got something saved up.” He watched her like he was expecting a reaction. “You asked Larry for a loan, right?”
A loan.
What had she said? Two thousand?
“Three thousand. That seems reasonable enough. But it comes with a caveat. You know what that is?”
Grace didn’t.
“A condition, like a mandate, a word to the wise, shouldn’t be ignored. I know you’re ahead of me here. You have to get gone and stay gone and keep your mouth shut. Forever. You’re young, so that’s a long time.” He paused.
Grace could feel him studying her.
“Larry thinks you can do it. I’m not so sure.”
“Some people are coming down your road.” Hard decision. Grace didn’t see she had any choice.
Hammond was up in less than a second, scooting to the curtains beside the windows, edging to look, Larry right behind him. “Shit! They won’t come up on the deck. Wait for them downstairs.”
Larry pulled the larger pistol from the back of his slacks, jacked a shell in the chamber, and headed for the basement steps. “You want to shut her up,” he said at the door.
“I got her.”
Grace believed that. All her thinking, all her planning, all her work, had brought her to this moment. Six months. And she was got. The freedom she longed for—gone, and she was farther under a man’s thumb than she’d ever imagined. She threw up on the couch.
78
H
AMMOND HAD JERKED
HER
by the arm to a nearby bathroom. “Do what you have to and clean up!” He’d slammed the door.
When Grace came out there was a dry towel covering the soiled area and Hammond was motioning to her to come back and sit. He had a shiny chrome pistol beside him and his legs were crossed, waiting for the visitors. Grace could hear footsteps climbing the basement stairs.
JJ was the first one through the door. Brightened and started to run as soon as she saw Grace. Stopped in her tracks when she noticed Hammond. Mick was behind, saw what she did. Frowned and kept coming. Fitz was next, with Larry close enough to do him damage if he tried anything.
Hammond waited till they were all at the couches. “This is not good,” he said. “Makes everything just about impossible.” He picked up his pistol and motioned for everyone to sit past them on the sectional.
Larry moved to the end and kept his gun trained on Fitz.
“You search them?”
Larry shook his head.
“That’s too bad. Now if anybody moves funny you have to shoot first.” He shifted his gaze to the rest of the group. “You following this?”
Grace was trying to remember if Hammond had talked like this before. No. He’d been smooth as butter. Now he sounded like a thug. His civility didn’t run so deep. For the first time she wondered if the man had learned this from silent partners outside of town, outside the state, partners who had an even larger interest in gambling and under-the-table deals.
Hammond rested his pistol on his knee. “So what’re we going to do here?”
Nobody responded.
“Come on. I know you had an idea when you took one of my boats, right? Had some picture of how things would go down. So tell me. What the hell are we going to do now?”
“Let’s start with you killed Evelyn,” Mick said.
“That was Cunneen, you dumb shit.” Hammond shook his head, disgusted. “And we dealt with that.”
It took Mick a couple of seconds. “Sports scholarship? You gave him a reward.”
Grace was reeling, having trouble keeping up. Cunneen. She could see it. He was an animal. But a scholarship?
“What were we going to tell Tim? His best friend. ‘He killed somebody so we made him disappear’?” Hammond looked at Larry. Took a deep breath. “It’s one thing, send a guy away. Four of you? Won’t work.”
“You killed Cunneen?” Mick was asking the questions that Grace was thinking.
“Hey. I didn’t have anything to do with this Evelyn except hire her. And then I had to keep things from blowing up. That’s my job. Nobody’s talking killing.”
That’s not exactly what Grace remembered from the “hypothetical” example earlier. That had been a very believable threat.
“So, right now I’m thinking. Spend a little, get a little. I, Larry and I, help this girl get out of town with a … a, uh, settlement that lets her start new someplace else. And you two”—he motioned at JJ and Mick with the pistol—“you go back to school. You ever need something, come to me. You know Grace is safe. She can phone you, e-mail, whatever, time to time. You two forget about this stuff. It’s over. Handled. We call the law and leave another message saying the evidence on your porch was planted. It’s recorded like every 911. Wrecks their case. Larry’s dad and Paint? Now they got nothing. Why would you set yourself up? Makes no sense, right? They’d pull you in, talk to you. No big deal. Then they’d leave you alone.”
Grace was amazed how well Hammond could think on his feet. An entrepreneur. Easy to imagine how he’d grown his holdings.
“So far so good, but we still have this gentleman. Mr. Fitzhugh, I understand. Lieutenant Cassel says you might have a second job. Might be in the used commercial equipment business. Cassel could be willing to let things slide if we asked him respectfully. You’re not operating here? Right? Tell me you’re not doing anything here.”
Everyone’s eyes went to Fitz.
If Grace had to bet, he was. Fitz. That kind of guy, cocky, had to do his thing, stick a knife in the system. That was probably what she liked about him.
Fitz didn’t respond.
“I take that as a yes.”
Grace could see Larry’s hand tighten on the pistol. Hope Fitz noticed it, too, and said something. Anything.
Hammond raised his hand like slow down a minute. “Another idea,” he said, looking directly at Fitz. “Pretty nice-looking Infiniti out there, wouldn’t you say?”
Fitz didn’t speak.
“QX56? What do you think it’s worth?”
Fitz shrugged.
“Sixty-three K as it sits. You interested?”
Grace thought Fitz’s eyes got a little brighter.
“See, I think we can do business here. Win-win. Let me be straight. What I want? I want this to go away. What you want? You’re a businessman. Sixty-three K and you leave, you don’t look back. No questions asked. Soon as we get back to the road, gone.”
Grace saw he definitely had Fitz’s interest. She was learning. Find what people want, give it to them. Anyone. And they’re yours.
“Now my Grace, here. I can see her thinking. Sixty-three, and I’m not getting that much. Right?” Hammond smiled at her. “Yeah, it’s the P.I.T.A. factor. Know what I mean?”
She didn’t.
“Pain-In-The-Ass. You’re a young pain, he’s an old pain with firearms. Degree of difficulty? Much higher. That’s business.”
Grace nodded. She got it. Plus, three thousand on top of whatever she had. That would be enough. A new life. “What city?” she asked, confusing everyone but Hammond.
“You tell me,” he said, nodding back. “Big and far. Only rule, Larry said he’d be back by Monday. Don’t want to raise any more questions.”
Fitz surprised everyone by speaking. “Not a good idea. The ride ties me to you. Connects us. Title.”
“Documents can be improved, made more accurate,” Hammond said easily.
“How about this? You give me a part of your action, point me in the right directions. We split the profits.”
“Mr. Fitzhugh, are you stalling for time? This offer doesn’t sound like you. From what I hear, you don’t do great with partners.”
Grace looked at Mick, wondering if he realized his dad was going to get himself shot.
“True,” Fitz said, “so how about this. You give me, say, ten times what you’re giving the girl. Fifty thousand. Cash. When everything blows over, I move. Out of state. Not a ripple.”
“I’m not coming with you.” Mick couldn’t believe how easily his dad bargained about things that would affect the rest of their lives, how ready his dad was to drop him and move on. Just as Mick was starting to like him a little again. Was his dad stalling or was this for real?
“Acceptable,” Hammond said. “Reasonable. So now what? I trust Larry. He keeps the faith. You, you’re smart,” he said, nodding to Fitz. “You got a lot to lose. Like fifteen or twenty years. Our Grace? Ready to roll, I think. But your son’s a crusader rabbit and his girlfriend’s an unknown. How do we know they won’t blow a whistle?”
“You’re going to have other things to worry about.” From behind them. The basement door. Sheriff Paint. And then a small flood of deputies moving into the room, guns ready.
79
T
HE RIVERSIDE PARKING
AREA
was packed with six sheriff’s cruisers. Paint ushered Hammond into one, K-turned, and headed east on 200. Since the Portage jail wasn’t big enough to hold and interrogate everyone in isolation, each suspect would be driven separately and questioned in Missoula. Contact between Hammond, Larry, Grace, Fitz, and Mick would be prevented so they wouldn’t be able to collaborate on their statements. Paint’s phone call to the Montana State Patrol Headquarters in Helena put Scott Cassel on administrative leave until allegations of complicity could be ruled out or substantiated.
* * *
Even riding in the back of a sheriff’s car, Mick had no words for the relief he was feeling. He’d faced Hammond and Larry and came out okay! Hammond talked negotiation but Mick wasn’t at all sure he’d really let them go. Neither he nor Larry had put away their pistols. And Grace was more than okay, still confident-looking, still cool after being kidnapped. That would mess up most people. It was amazing how Paint found them just at the right moment.
Cunneen? Mick didn’t see that coming. He’d been so sure it was Larry. But Cunneen was a lot like Larry. Paint would have him extradited. Oh. If he was still alive. A jock and Tim’s best friend. He might be. Good athletes could get away with a lot.
When this mess got resolved, Mick would have what he’d hoped for. Almost everything. Hometown, football. He’d be playing in a month! Two-a-days in the August heat and loving every minute of it. Mick would find a new home. Not the studio. He was done with that. Not going to live with his dad again. They’d have a different relationship. More like friends. Or maybe like an uncle, but he’d never had one of those so he didn’t really know.
JJ might have an extra bedroom. Interesting. Maybe he and Grace could stay there until Gary got out. If Gary got out. Or maybe Grace would want it by herself.
He’d heard the deputies talking, using words like accomplice and kidnapping. Mick didn’t see how Hammond could evade everything Paint would discover, so he was going to need a job. He bet Dovey would give him a recommendation. Somebody would hire a strong back and a decent attitude. It had been easy enough in Coeur d’Alene. He could do it again.