Exactly an hour after he left, Joe Reed drove up and parked his van. He came into the shed wearing fresh jeans, a clean oatmeal-colored Carhartt T-shirt, and all his scars washed. Musta taken one of his cat baths in his van. He saw the loader. “No sale, huh?”
“She’s a boat anchor. Leave it for scrap.”
Joe looked up suddenly and cocked his head. Nothing wrong with his hearing. If anything, his other disabilities had made it more acute. Because Dale heard stuff just fine, and he didn’t hear it until seconds later.
“Plane coming in,” Joe said.
Chapter Nineteen
Nina woke up alone-not just in Ace’s bed, but in an empty apartment over an empty bar. No smiling Ace handing her coffee. In fact, no coffee.
She had spent a second chaste night in Ace’s bed and he had slept on the couch. They had gone to dinner yesterday and to a movie at the refurbished Roxy Theater in town. Signs, with Mel Gibson. Then they’d gone out for a single beer afterwards at the bowling alley and talked about the movie. Like a date. She had been willing to kiss him at the conclusion to the evening, but he had stepped away.
Not yet, he’d said with less of his usual gallantry than tangible distraction. Was he losing interest? Was he coming around to Gordy’s suspicious way of thinking? Did it matter? She was getting antsy, too. She assumed that Holly was checking this Khari guy five different ways. So something might roll out tonight. Which was fine, because her game with Ace and Gordy was running out of steam. She’d just have to ride out the day. Later this morning she would call Broker to see how things went with Kit. Right now she wanted a cup of coffee.
She showered fast, threw on a summer shift, and went downstairs just as Gordy came in through the front door carrying a bag of groceries. Seeing her, a malevolent smile smeared his hairy lips. His beady eyes darted around the room and Nina could practically read the thought bubble over his head.
They were alone.
She ignored him, went into the office, saw the can of Folgers on the sideboard sink, and started pouring water into the Mr. Coffee machine. Gordy followed her, set down his bag, came over, and stood beside her. She had never been this close to him and he smelled like stick deodorant aged in old sweat.
“I’m still here,” she said, deciding to take the offensive. He was wearing that Velcro back brace. She wondered if he slept in it.
“You ain’t the only one. Green Explorer, Minnesota plates, parked at the Motor Inn.”
“Shit,” Nina said. All right!
“Yeah, he’s hanging around. Here. Let me do that.” Gordy took the can of Folgers from her and started measuring out the coffee. “Ace likes it strong.”
“Where is he?”
“Run off with the most popular chick in town.” Gordy grinned and held his hand palm down about waist level. “ ‘Bout this tall. She ain’t got legs or arms but she got these great lips, and her head is flat on top, just right for setting down a beer can.”
“Old joke,” Nina said and fixed a bored expression on her face.
“Ace went into court to fight a speeding ticket. He’ll be back pretty soon.” Gordy shrugged and removed a six-pack of Coke from the bag, and a cardboard box of assorted doughnuts.
“Breakfast of Champions, huh?” Nina said.
Gordy put the Cokes in the refrigerator, all but one can. He popped the top, took a sip, and opened the bakery box. “Want one?” he asked. As he held the pastries up he stepped closer, too close, so his arm grazed her arm.
Nina threw a warning glance. Gordy just smiled and selected a jelly doughnut, took a bite, then leered at her, with a gob of goo caught in his mustache. His tongue darted out, snapped up the goo. Then he started to make his move. “So, where did he sleep last night. On the couch or on you?”
Nina extended the middle finger of her right hand.
“You give it up yet?” Gordy said, staring at her hips. “You satisfy his curiosity?” The leer accelerated and his breath came faster, working up to something ugly, and his eyes started to go fast, like two little caged rats.
“Back off, Gordy. I mean it.” Nina started for the door.
Gordy blocked her path, looming. Almost touching her as he whispered in her ear with his sugar breath, “It’s like this-you could leave under your own power, or you could disappear. It’d be easy…”
Nina, an inch taller, dropped her eyes to focus on the lump of Adam’s apple nestled in Gordy’s hairy throat. Go on, asshole, touch me. Crush his larnyx in about two seconds…
She moved past him and then the knife came out.
He drew it from his back pocket: a standard folding Buck Hunter with a fat, almost four-inch, stainless-steel blade. Gordy whipped it open with a smooth practiced flick of his thumb. He raised the knife in his right hand, menacing the blade back and forth. Catching the light. Not exactly threatening her directly with it, more like showing off and working up to something…
Broker had always told her how a lot of the assholes out there weren’t that smart. How sometimes they just did things before they thought…Okay, so, a knife-she prepared herself to fight. Gordy puckered his lips, blew a kiss, took a half-step toward her, still swinging the blade off to the side.
Instinctively Nina’s hands came up and she stepped back. What happened next was so strange and fast that she found herself in the middle, missing the beginning:
The voice rasped: “Leave her alone, Gordy. I mean it.”
Nina watched, stunned. Where’d he come from? A swarthy man about five-ten, in jeans, a gray T-shirt, and boots. He had jet-black hair and the corded arms of a circus roustabout. His face was all wrong, rippled with uneven pigment. Scars showed even through his short hair. He approached silently, moving with a graceful limp, favoring his left leg. He carried his left hand protectively close to his hip, not swinging naturally and Nina immediately saw the nubs of the two missing fingers. She’d seen his kind of face before, in VA hospital burn wards; guys who’d been blown up, their skin grafted. But this guy was very focused, his quiet eyes checking the blind angles, the back doorway by the stairs.
Her response was visceral. One player sensing another player coming onto the field.
Gordy immediately put the knife away, stepped back. “Hey-just kidding, Joe,” he said.
If push came to shove, Ace and Gordy were country tough. Basically they were muddling along in a local tradition of smuggling whiskey and petty crime. Not this guy. Nina was sure. He was a trained man. For the first time since this project got under way, Nina knew she was close to something scary.
The guy stopped and probed Nina fast with cold brown eyes so intense she could almost feel her bones glow. Then he turned to Gordy and said, “We got nothing else to talk about, you and me. You understand?”
“Sure, Joe.”
“Where’s Ace?”
“He ain’t here,” Gordy said.
“Tell him George says it’s tonight, at the old remote missile bunker east of town.”
“Jesus, Joe.” Gordy rolled his eyes at Nina, alarmed.
Joe’s eyes stayed fixed on Gordy but his voice turned contemptuous. “Since when are we scared of women?” He inclined his damaged face toward Gordy for emphasis, then, “You tell Ace.”
Gordy stepped back, eyes wide; trying to make the best of things. “Yeah, sure, Joe.”
Then Joe continued on past the stairs and went out through the storeroom. Gordy, minus most of the color in his face, grinned nervously at Nina. “Just joking around, right?”
“Yeah, sure, Gordy. Ha ha. Who was that?”
“Joe Reed,” Gordy said, clearly agitated. He shook his head. “I don’t get what’s going on anymore. It wasn’t like this when Ace’s dad ran things.”
Nina folded her arms across her chest and watched him go into the office. Then she went to the table, where Ace’s morning newspaper was spread out. As she sat down she released a delayed shudder.