"Well, think about it," I sez, givin' him a toothy smile. "Talk it over with the wife and see if you can't remember something. I'll probably be back to talk with you again. The thing is, if I find out that you know something and didn't share it with me, you might not see me comin' at all. Know what I mean?"
"I... I'll think about it," he sez. "But I really don't know anything."
I stare at him for a couple beats without sayin' anything, then turn and leave, gatherin' up Spyder and Pookie with my eyes as I go.
Nobody sez anything for a while as I lead the way out of the subdivision and away from the eyes of any onlookers. Finally, when we're well away, Spyder explodes.
"Wow, Guido! You were terrific! That was really great!"
"No it wasn't," I sez, slowin' down but still not lookin' at them direct.
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it, dear," Pookie sez. "It was a good show, but Guido didn't get any more information than I did."
"There's definitely something strange goin' on here," I sez, half to myself.
"I don't know. Maybe they really didn't know anything," Spyder sez.
"I don't buy it," I sez. "Even if they didn't have any specific information, they should have heard something, even if it was only rumors. That would be enough for them to try to impress Pookie, or to get me off their back when I leaned on them. No, there's some kind of coverup goin' on."
"That's the way it looks," Pookie nodded.
"You know, I've got an idea," Spyder sez. "It might be worth a try."
"What's that?" I sez.
"Well, these folks are money-motivated. Right? We could try posting a reward for information. If they won't respond to fear or lust, there's always greed."
Pookie and I looked at each other as we thought about it, then we both shook our heads.
"I don't think so, little sister," Pookie sez. "It's a nice thought, but when there's money on the table, it brings out all kind of false leads and wild goose chases. We'd go nuts trying to administer the thing, much less having to run down each and every rumor that got dropped on us."
"Besides," I sez, "if we're right and there's a coverup goin' on, anyone who talks to us is goin' to have the rest of the community down on them. Money is a great motivator, but it would take a lot of it to offset their fear of reprisals."
"Wait a minute, Guido," Pookie sez. "Maybe we're looking at this wrong. What if it isn't fear of reprisals that's keeping everyone quiet? What if it's money?"
"How's that again?"
"What if the gang is sharing their profits with the community?" she sez. "You know, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor? If the subdivision is getting a piece of the action, it's no wonder they won't talk about it to outsiders."
"I dunno," I sez. "It sounds pretty wild. I mean, I can understand the part about robbin' the rich. There's no money in robbin' the poor. But why would they be willin' to share it with anyone else? Besides, I didn't see any poor in that subdivision."
"I was speaking figuratively," Pookie sez. "But remember what I said about guerrillas needing popular support? Can you think of any better way for the gang to make themselves popular than by instituting a profit-sharing plan? Remember, they get to decide how much to share, and no one audits their books on the count. It could be a very shrewd and economical way to get and keep the people on your side against the authorities."
"I'll have to think about that one," I sez. "One thing for sure is we've hit a dead end on this line of inquiry. Maybe it's time to look up the clown with the costume."
What our team of investigators is not aware of is the repercussions of their visit to Sherwood Arms. Specifically, it created the need for an emergency meeting of the Sherwood Arms Bow Hunting Club that very evening.
"Com'on, Robb," Tuck was saying. "This whole thing was your idea. Now you have one person asking questions and you get spooked."
"I'm not spooked," Robb said. "I'm scared spitless. And if you saw the monster that was grilling me, you wouldn't call him 'one person'."
"If it's the same one that was with the vixen that was trying to get information out of me, he didn't seem like all that much," said Will.
"Definitely on the scrawny side," said John.
"Pipe down, you two," said Tuck, taking the lead for a change. "We've already decided there were two different groups asking questions, even if they both did have two women and one man."
"That's two too many if you ask me," Robb said. "Running the army around in circles in the woods is one thing, but this is getting too close to where we live. I say we should lay low for a while. Suspend operations until this sudden wave of interest dies down."
"Okay. No problem," Will said with a shrug. "Consider it done ... or undone as the case might be."
"Just like that? No arguments?" Tuck said, cocking an eyebrow.
NINE
Again, it had been agreed upon that we should assume the least threatening disguises imaginable to encourage our mark to attack us, thereby negatin' the necessity of havin' to find him. To this end, Pookie had gone to work with her disguise spell.
When she was done, we was all not only wearin' army-type uniforms, we was all males. This was decided on in case word was out that there was a team of hunters out lookin' for outlaws consistin' of two females and a male. The problems began when Pookie insisted, just to be sure we drew an attack, that we should be kinda scrawny, puny-lookin' males. After havin' suffered through the embarrassment of such a disguise back at Sherwood Arms, Spyder and I took the position that if we had to look wimpy, then it was only fair that Pookie herself should also adopt a similar appearance. I feel that the duration and bitterness of the ensuin' argument before Pookie agreed only showed that, as competent a pro as she was, she was still vulnerable to a woman's vanity.
Our plan was as simple in its conception as it was borin' in its execution. Basically we was to re-trace the path of the tax collectin' team what had been ambushed by this joker, actin' like we was a different unit what got separated and was tryin' to re-group with the others. Logically, by revisitin' the same locales, this should draw the same attack as the army types had suffered, except we'd be ready for it. In actuality, this meant walkin' a long way and stoppin' in a lot of communities where army types are not really welcome, and doubly so since one tax team had already been through. The ladies was sure that the garbage, both verbal and literal, which was hurled at us as we passed through was on account of our less-than-heroic disguises. I, on the other hand, felt that it was aimed at army types in general regardless of the details of their appearance.
Of course, I kept this opinion mostly to myself. The only thing worse than arguin' with a woman when she's upset is arguin' with two women when they're upset... unless, perhaps, it's winnin' that selfsame argument.
"I still don't see why we have to keep wearing these stupid disguises when we're out of town and in the country," Spyder sez for maybe the twentieth time. "It's not like anyone can see us."
For some reason, this time her complaint draws an answer out of me . .. probably because I am already irritated myself. Maybe it's because it is the twentieth time she's made the same complaint. Then, too, maybe it is because I have been stuck pushin' the wheelbarrow that is part of our disguises as tax collectors. While said wheelbarrow speaks highly of the completeness of our disguises, the fact that I always seem to be the one pushin' it is a commentary on the lack of sexual equality within our group.
"We wear the disguises in town so that whoever is passin' the word to our target will see us as easy marks," I sez, flatlike. "The reason we wear them in the country is that when somebody does see us, specifically that same target, that we will look like the same easy marks what was spotted in town."