Carefully I said, "Who killed Steve Buckman?"
"Don't know."
"You got any connection with Mrs. Buckman?"
The Preacher made a cackling sound. It might have been a laugh.
"I'd like one," he said. "How about you, Pony? You like to make a connection with Mrs. Buckman?"
Pony was stock-still with the muzzle of Hawk's gun still against his forehead. It was a big gun, a.44 Magnum, with a stainless-steel finish that made it glitter in the brutal sunshine. Neither of them had moved since the event began.
"Guess Pony ain't talking," The Preacher said.
"Thanks for your help," I said. "Time to go."
"Maybe we don't think so," The Preacher said.
"Maybe we don't care," I said.
The Preacher glanced slowly around at the circumstances. They were not to his advantage.
"Things start," The Preacher said. "We kill you first."
"We'll go together," I said.
The Preacher nodded, still assessing.
"We'll go," he said.
"Stay away from the town," I said.
The Preacher gave me another one of those amused rattlesnake stares. Then he nodded at the other men. And they got back in their vehicles. As they drove away, the muscles that had been so tight now became so loose I felt like I ought to lie down. Decompensating. The sound of the two vehicles faded. Sapp tossed his shotgun onto the back seat of his car and got in the driver's side. Bernard J. Fortunato got in with him. Chollo got in with Bobby Horse. Vinnie closed his hotel window and appeared a minute later with the rifle in a gun case. He got in with Chollo and Bobby Horse. The two cars pulled away. Hawk let the hammer back down on his big stainless-steel revolver and slid it back into its holster. He grinned at me.
"Cool," he said.
Chapter 53
THE RATTLESNAKE CAFE served donuts. Hawk had four, and coffee. I wasn't hungry yet. I had coffee.
"You know he ain't going to let this go," Hawk said.
I nodded.
"Why he told you all that stuff. 'Cause he going to kill you."
"And you," I said.
"And everybody else," Hawk said. "So he don't care what he says to you."
"Which means he probably told the truth."
"Probably," Hawk said.
"Which means maybe Steve Buckman wasn't killed by the Dell."
Hawk broke a donut in half and took a significant bite.
"How 'bout the Saguaro Development Corporation?"
"Why would they kill him?"
"I just the hired hard case," Hawk said. "You the sleuth."
"They seem to be players," I said.
"Anybody in Saguaro Development got the balls to do it?"
"Mary Lou," I said.
Hawk nodded and finished his half donut. He took a sip of his coffee.
"Even though she cute and got a blond ponytail?"
"That usually eliminates a suspect," I said. "But somebody killed Buckman."
Dean Walker slipped into the booth next to me. He was looking clean and shiny. His uniform shirt was freshly pressed. He took his hat off and laid it crown down on the table in front of him.
"How're the donuts?" he said.
"No such thing as a bad donut," Hawk said.
He gestured at the waitress and she brought him coffee without further instruction.
"Did you have a little incident this morning?" Walker said to me.
"Big incident," I said.
"Pretty good," he said.
"You witness any of it?" I said.
Walker smiled.
"They're not going to let it go," he said.
"Probably not."
"There's seven of you," Walker said.
"You counted."
"There's about forty of them."
"Preacher says he didn't shoot Steve Buckman."
"Preacher ain't the most honest guy," Walker said.
"Nor the nicest," I said. "But what if he were telling the truth."
"Then it must have been somebody else," Walker said.
"That's why you're chief of police," I said.
"Nothing like a trained professional," Walker said. "What are you going to do about the Dell?"
"Wait and watch," I said.
"You ought to leave," he said.
I shrugged.
"You won't," Walker said. "Will you?"
I shook my head. Hawk was on his last donut. He seemed to be paying no attention. Which was, of course, a deception. Hawk paid attention to everything.
"Second best suggestion," Walker said. "Don't wait for them. Try to hit them first. I guarantee they're coming."
"Been urging that same course of action," Hawk said.
"You think Mary Lou might have killed her husband?"
"No."
"She might have," I said.
No."
"Who's your candidate?" I said.
"If it wasn't the Dell?"
"Yeah."
"Might have been Ratliff."
"The producer?"
"Yeah. He followed her out here."
"Why?"
He didn't answer. He took a sip of his coffee, shook his head slightly and stirred more sugar into his cup.
"Unrequited love?" I said.
"He had an affair with her in L.A. It didn't mean anything. She and Steve were having a little trouble at the time."
"Last time I mentioned it," I said, "you said it was a lie."
"Did I say that?"
"You did."
"Probably before I learned the truth."
"Probably."
"He was annoying her," Walker said. "She complained to me and I had a talk with him."
"What'd he say?"
Walker continued to stir his coffee. The gesture was automatic, as if he'd forgotten about it.
"He admitted he followed her out here. Said he loved her. Said he just wanted to be near her."
"And you think he killed Buckman to clear the way for himself?"
"Might have. Might have heard that the Dell threatened Steve, and saw his chance. Shoot him and the Dell gets blamed."
"It's a theory," I said.
"Yep."
"Mary Lou's part of a group that's buying up real estate," I said.
"Good for her."
"Where's she get the money?"
"I look like HR Block to you?"
"I'll take that to mean you don't know where she got the money."
"You take it to mean whatever the fuck you want to," Walker said.
"The mayor's part of the group," I said, "and J. George Taylor."
"Yeah?"
"Why do you suppose they're doing that?"
"Real estate's cheap around here."
"Because of the Dell?"
"Sure."
"So why does this group want it?"
"Maybe they have confidence in you," Walker said.
"Figure Potshot would boom without the Dell problem?"
Walker shook his head.
"Not enough water," he said. "We're at capacity."
"You ever sleep with Mary Lou?" I said.
"Hey," Walker said. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"
"Do you know who Morris Tannenbaum is?"
"You think she slept with him?"
"Do you?"
"Watch your mouth pal. This is a lady you're talking about."
"Nothin' unladylike 'bout getting laid," Hawk said.
"Do you know Tannenbaum?" I said.
"No."
"But you're worried that Mary Lou might have slept with him?"
Walker stood up suddenly and picked up his hat and put it on.
"Fuck this," he said and left.
"Touchy," Hawk said.
"On this subject."
"You think he might be right 'bout Ratliff?"
"I think you're right about the question of ladies and sex."
"Good to be right about something," Hawk said. "You think she connected with Tannenbaum?"
"Everywhere I go in this thing I keep bumping into either her or him," I said.
"Don't mean they're connected," Hawk said.
"Ever since I signed on for this, I been trying to figure out where she's getting the money."
"Tannenbaum got some," Hawk said.
"He do," I said.
"You got any ideas how to find out about him?" Hawk said.
"I do," I said.
Chapter 54
I SAT ON the front porch with my Winchester rifle leaning against the porch railing beside me, and talked on the portable phone to Samuelson in L.A.
"You got any surveillance on Tannenbaum?" I said.