"Keep looking," Bobby Horse said. "Near the top of the ravine. A cluster of scrub? Just below it a ledge? Under the ledge."
I found the scrub and the ledge and kept looking. Then I saw a glint of light reflecting from under the ledge.
"Gun barrel," Bobby Horse said, "belt buckle, sunglasses, maybe a wristwatch."
"How many you think?" I said.
"Two." Bobby Horse said.
There was no uncertainty in his voice.
"So they let me in because I was alone and not carrying any visible weapons," I said.
"Probably thought you was a tourist got lost," Bobby Horse said.
"Or a dashing soldier of fortune," I said. "And they hoped to recruit me."
"We put somebody at the ravine," Hawk said, "we need to eliminate them first."
"I can do that," Bobby Horse said.
"Both of them?" I said.
"Sure."
"You Native Americans are scary," Hawk said.
"Heap scary," Bobby Horse said.
"Talk funny, too," I said.
We stayed on our bellies and stared down through the shimmering that rose from the canyon floor, until most of our water was gone, and we had internalized the layout of the Dell. Then we edged away from the rim, stood and walked the half-hour walk back to the downslope of the hill behind the Dell.
"We got the people to do this," Hawk said as we started the long scramble back down. "You put the shooters up here, Vinnie, Chollo, maybe the little hard case from Vegas. Me and you do the close work in the ravine, with Tedy Sapp and Bobby Horse."
"If we need to," I said.
"How you going to know if we need to?"
"When I figure out what's happening here. I'm not going to slaughter a bunch of people and then find out we didn't have to."
Hawk shook his head slowly.
"A sweet nature," he said. "A sweet fucking nature."
Chapter 44
WHEN WE GOT back to the house there was a silver Lexus parked in front and Chollo was sitting on the front porch with Morris Tannenbaum's guy with the horn-rimmed glasses, who looked like an accountant but wasn't.
"You remember Ronnie," Chollo said.
"With pleasure," I said.
Bobby Horse paid no attention to Ronnie. He went on past him and into the house. Hawk didn't say anything but he looked steadily at Ronnie. Ronnie looked at Hawk for a time and then turned his attention to me. Hawk leaned against the porch railing, still looking at Ronnie.
"Hot," Ronnie said.
He was wearing a white linen suit with a flowered sport shirt open at the neck. His shoes were woven leather. He looked like an accountant on vacation. 't
"Yeah," I said, "but it's a dry heat."
Ronnie nodded as if the heat were a real topic. I waited.
"Morris wanted me to talk with you," Ronnie said.
"You always do what Morris wants?" I said.
"Yeah.''
I waited some more. Ronnie seemed in no hurry. Hawk was motionless against the railing. Chollo might have been asleep in his chair.
"Morris wanted me to tell you things have changed a little," Ronnie said.
"Un-huh."
"Morris says he got no further interests out here."
"Which means?"
"Morris says if you want to take out the Dell, he'll give you a walk on that."
"Last I knew he was going to have somebody shoot me if I didn't leave things alone out here."
"Probably me," Ronnie said. "That ain't the case anymore."
"Well isn't that nice," I said. "How about Mary Lou Buckman?"
"Morris got no interest in her."
"But he used to," I said.
Ronnie spread his hands, palms up, and shrugged.
"What happened?" I said.
Ronnie shook his head.
"Morris didn't have anybody shoot Steve Buckman did he?"
"Nope."
"You sure?"
"I do Morris's shooting," Ronnie said. "I didn't do Buckman."
"You know who did?"
"Maybe she did," Ronnie said.
"Why do you think so?"
"Wives shoot husbands a lot," Ronnie said.
"What's Morris's connection to her?"
"Maybe they were bridge partners. Morris only tells me what I need to know."
"And his connection to the Dell?"
"Same answer," Ronnie said.
"So Morris sent you all the way out here just to tell me it was okay to do what I was going to do anyway?" I said.
"We had no way to know you was going to do it," Ronnie said.
"What the hell was I doing here, then?"
"Maybe shagging after Mrs. Buckman," Ronnie said.
"With half a dozen thugs?"
Ronnie smiled. It was a thin gesture, but unexpected.
"Maybe to hold her down?" he said.
"I'll be damned, a romantic underneath it all."
Ronnie hitched up a pant leg, and crossed his right leg over his left. He bobbed his right foot a little, looking at the toe of his shoe as if it were interesting.
"Morris says he'd like to make a financial contribution to the project," Ronnie said.
"Which project is that?" I said.
"Snuffing the Dell."
"How about Mary Lou?"
"Leave her on her own."
"You mean don't look after her?" I said.
"Let things develop," he said. "Stay focused on the Dell."
"How much of a financial contribution is Morris likely to make?" I said.
"You could pretty much name it," Ronnie said. "If you can deliver."
"But no manpower," I said.
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Morris figures you don't need it."
"How flattering," I said.
"Chollo and Bobby Horse are good," Ronnie said.
"You are too kind, senor," Chollo said.
Ronnie nodded at Hawk. "This guy's good," he said.
Hawk registered nothing.
"You can tell?" I said.
"I can tell," Ronnie said. "You too."
"You know anything about Dean Walker?"
"Police chief out here, isn't he?"
"Know more than that?"
"Nope."
"How do you know that?"
"I'm alert," Ronnie said.
"What about Mark Ratliff?"
"Movie producer," Ronnie said, "except he don't produce no movies."
"Anything else?"
"Nope."
"And how do you know about him?"
Ronnie smiled the thin smile again. "Alertness," he said.
"I'm pretty alert myself," I said. "And I notice that Morris is hiring me to do what he said he'd kill me for a month ago."
"Things change," Ronnie said.
"But you wouldn't know why?"
"I wouldn't," Ronnie said. "Like I said, Morris only tells me what he thinks I need to know."
"Why don't I believe you?" I said.
"Because you're a cynical and suspicious guy?" Ronnie said.
"That must be it," I said.
We sat. Hawk leaned. I tried to think of some clever way to trick Ronnie into telling more than he wanted to. I couldn't. I was cynical and suspicious, but not that bright.
"Tell Morris that I will decline his kind offer, and if anything happens to Mary Lou Buckman I will come to L.A. and fry his ass."
"I'll pass that on," Ronnie said.
He got up and headed for his car. Hawk watched him all the way. Chollo didn't move but I realized he was watching Ronnie, too. Ronnie went around his car and opened the driver's-side door. He looked back at us.
"Have a nice day," he said.
Then he got in the car and closed the door and backed it slowly out of the driveway.
Chapter 45
IT WAS BERNARD'S turn to cook breakfast. He valued presentation. He always put out a tablecloth and matching flatware. He put the juice in a pitcher and the milk in another. No cartons on the table. He served the meals from the counter instead of slopping the food out of the cooking pan at the table. Today he was serving apricot pancakes with syrup made from some sort of cactus pear.
"Bernard," Tedy Sapp said, "you sure you're straight?"
"Damned right I'm straight," Bernard said. "Anybody says I'm not I'll fight him."
Sapp grinned.
"When a gay guy calls you queer, it's not an insult," he said.
"You think I wouldn't fight you?" Bernard said.
"I think you would," Sapp said. "Just not for long."