At the back of the house, taking overnight bags out of the trunk of a deep-blue Lincoln Continental, were two guys who might as well have had the word “gangster” emblazoned in neon on their backs. They wore dark suits with dark shirts and matching dark ties. Their hair was cut short and slicked back. At the sound of my truck, one of them turned around quickly, and I saw the straps of a shoulder holster before he could adjust and button his jacket. Then the other turned around and our eyes met as I drove past. They didn’t look happy. In my rearview, I saw one of them slam the trunk shut, and then they both went into the bunkhouse. I drove only a little farther up the road before pulling onto the grass and spinning back around toward the stables.
Ollie was still standing outside with his hands on his hips, and I pulled the truck right up to his toes before cutting the engine and jumping out and slamming the door. “Ollie,” I said. “Guess who I just saw.”
Ollie set his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Two of the king’s men. Back at the bunkhouse.”
He looked perplexed. “You saw who?”
“I saw the two guys Jimmy Smoke sent. That’s why we’re having dinner together tonight, isn’t it? So it’s just the kid on the farm when they get there?”
Ollie looked at me with disgust and shook his head slowly. He went back into his office and stood by the open door, waiting for me to join him.
I hesitated a moment, then went into the office and took a seat at the side of his desk, as if I were about to be interviewed for a job. I stared at his empty leather chair.
Ollie closed the door. “You saw two guests of mine. They’re staying at the bunkhouse.”
“No... “ I said, slowly, as if I had considered and then rejected his assertion. “I saw two killers. Sent to do something to a boy I’ve been working with all summer. A kid I like.”
“Really,” Ollie said. “You like him?” He walked around me and took his seat behind the desk.
“Yes,” I said. “I like him.”
Ollie leaned forward. “Why would you think—”
“Will you stop it?” I said. “I know about the kid’s relationship to his stepfather. I know who his stepfather is. I know they hate each other. Now all of a sudden you arrange for me and Amy to be off the farm, and two thugs show up wearing guns under their thug uniforms. Have I led you to believe I’m a stupid man, Ollie?”
“Never thought it for a second.”
“Then stop bullshitting me.”
Ollie folded his hands in his lap and looked at me patiently. “Those phone calls you mentioned, the ones the kid was making all over the country? What if they weren’t to his college buddies and his girlfriend? What if the little asshole was trying to have Jimmy killed? What if the clown had it stuck in his head that Jimmy killed his father and nothing but revenge would do? What about that, Paul? Would that make things a little more understandable to you?”
I hesitated before answering. Half of me was ready to argue with Ollie. The other half was in shock to hear him tacitly confirm a killing. After a long moment, I said, “The details are supposed to make a difference to me? Not that I’m sure I believe them. But what is it you think — that if I understand why, then it’ll be okay? I’m not going to have a problem with two killers coming out to my farm after a kid who’s working for me?”
Ollie put his elbows on the desk and covered his face with his hands. He spoke into his palms. “All that I said is what if.”
“Well, what if nothing. It makes no difference.”
“None at all?”
“None,” I said, still amazed he’d think it might.
He crossed his arms on the desk and moved closer to me. “What if I happened to know for a fact that Jimmy’s raised this kid like his own son? That he did everything a father could do, but the kid’s been screwing up since puberty, between girls and drugs and money? What if Jimmy’s spent a small fortune between abortions and lawyers and rehab with this kid, and now the little asshole is hell-bent to do away with him, hell-bent trying to pull together every old enemy Jimmy’s got? What if, Paul? What if it’s either one way or the other, Jimmy or Chad — and this is all Chad’s doing? This is the way Chad wants it? Then what? Still make no difference?”
“I don’t believe it about this kid,” I said. “He’s—”
“He’s slick, is what he is,” Ollie said, raising his voice a little.
“That’s not the way he comes across to me.”
Ollie stared at me. “I thought you were smarter than this,” he said. “I thought you knew more about the way things were than this.”
“How’s that?” I said. “What have I ever done to make you think you could arrange a murder on my farm and I’d look the other way?”
“What I just said,” he answered. “I thought you knew the way things were.”
“Look. I’m going back to the farm; I’m warning Chad.”
Ollie stood up behind the desk. “And what good will that do, Paul? Except to complicate your life.”
“Is that a threat?” I said. “To complicate my life?”
“Not from me,” Ollie said. “I can’t tell you what Jimmy’s going to do.”
I said, “I thought that you were my friend.”
“I am your friend,” he said. “Come to my house for dinner tonight. What’s going on between Jimmy and Chad — you can’t do anything about it. Only a fool would get in the way of a thing like this. It’s an act of God. The only thing you should be looking for is how to keep you and yours safe. That,” he said, “is what I thought you’d understand.”
“Like I said,” I started for the door. “I’m going back to the farm. I’m finding the kid.”
“Think about what you’re doing,” Ollie said. When I was already out the door, he called after me. “I’ll be expecting you for dinner!”
I didn’t answer. I got in my truck and went out the front gate and started for the farm. My foot fell heavily on the gas as I sped along the two-lane roads, worrying over Ollie’s threat. I didn’t believe he’d do anything to harm Amy or me. I didn’t think it was possible I had so misjudged the man. Nor did I think he’d let Jimmy Smoke do anything to us — as long as it was in his power to prevent it. That, of course, was the problem. What if he couldn’t keep Jimmy Smoke from, say, burning down the farm, which is where his name came from, as I understood it — his connection to mysterious fires. While I was worrying about all this, I recalled Ollie stopping by the farm a few days earlier to check on His Majesty — he had looked the horse over, gone through his stall, even asked me if he was as mean as always — and I realized with absolute certainty that he kept HM for Jimmy Smoke. I was sure of it. When the time came that Jimmy needed a believable accidental death, HM would be waiting. Sometimes I’m good at reading things, and I read this with certainty: Chad was going to wind up in the stall with HM, crushed and beaten to death. He’d get Chad out of the way in an accident no one would question — an accident on a farm where the kid was working a summer job hundreds of miles away from Jimmy and his associates. Jimmy got rid of his kid, and he kept his wife. When I realized these things, I started worrying that maybe I had misjudged Ollie all these years. Maybe I’d be in trouble once I warned Chad.
None of this, though, had any bearing on what I was about to do. I wouldn’t let it. When I considered Ollie’s arguments and they began to gather weight — what if this was really a skirmish in a war between killers? I reminded myself that Chad was a kid, a boy, and that to go eat a pleasant dinner while he was getting beaten to death would make me a murderer. That pushed me hard, that thought. On the farm, dust flew up in clouds behind the truck as I drove the dirt road out to Chad’s cabin. The horses looked up from their grazing to watch the truck speed by, as if they were my audience. Otherwise, the farm was so quiet, you’d think no one worked it. Amy was in the house probably, enjoying the air-conditioning. Chad was either working or eating lunch. I pulled up to the cabin and hit the brakes, and when I skidded into the concrete foundation, the rubberized front of ray bumper thumping into the cabin wall, I realized how fast I had been going.