Chapter
52
The sound was not repeated.
At least not right away.
But Robie and Reel were patient. They could sit for hours or days or weeks waiting for what needed to come along and be killed.
And finally their patience was rewarded.
The crack of a twig.
The flutter of leaves on a bush.
A breath released too quickly for concealment.
They converged in an instant, guns pointed at their prey.
“Don’t shoot. Sweet Jesus, please don’t shoot me.”
Pete Clancy put up his hands and dropped to his knees. He sat on his haunches, cowering.
Robie and Reel glanced at each other before lowering their weapons.
“What are you doing here, Pete?” asked Robie. “And where the hell have you been?”
Pete let his hands drop and stared up at them.
Composing himself, he said, “On the run, man. You know why.”
“Get up,” said Reel.
When he stood she patted him down and pulled out a short-bladed knife from his front pants pocket.
“What, no guns?” she said.
“I don’t actually like guns all that much,” said Pete in an embarrassed tone. “I just own ’em ’cause you’re supposed to down here.”
She put the knife in her jacket pocket and stepped back.
Robie said, “Who were the guys at your house?”
“Heard you killed ’em later on. In the woods.”
“Who’d you hear that from?”
Pete shrugged. “Somebody,” he mumbled. “Does it matter?”
“It may,” replied Robie. “But we’ll leave that for now. Who were the guys? Rebel Yell thugs?”
Pete looked confused by this. “Rebel Yell? The casino?”
Reel and Robie exchanged another glance.
“Yeah,” said Robie.
“Nope, it wasn’t them.”
Robie said, “Okay, if not them, who? And we know about the pictures on your computer. The man and the little kids?”
Pete looked startled at first but then nodded slowly. “How my old man made his money. Then he took that and made a lot more at the Rebel Yell.”
“So no oil and gas dollars for his land, then?” said Robie.
“He told me that was just a cover story.”
“Okay, one more time. The guys. Who are they?”
“I don’t know exactly. But you saw the pictures, right?”
“I told you we did,” said Robie irritably. “Who’s the guy in them?”
He said furtively, “Don’t know that either. Dad never said.”
“Where did the kids come from?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is there a reason that all of the kids are either black or Latino?” asked Reel.
Pete exclaimed, “I don’t know! Okay? I came to all this late in the game.”
“Why would he tell you about any of this?” wondered Robie.
Pete snorted. “Why else? He was drunk off his ass.”
“But the guys obviously knew you had something. Why else would they have come around?”
Pete said nothing.
Robie said, “You showed up at your house with them. How did that happen?”
“They grabbed me when I was comin’ out of a bar.”
“And they brought you back to your house to get what you had on the computer,” said Reel. “How did they even know about that?”
Pete shrugged again.
Robie slammed him up against a tree.
“Shrugs don’t cut it, Pete,” snarled Robie. “And roundabout bullshit nonanswers don’t, either. They knew about it because you put the squeeze on them. In order to do that you had to have information. So, last time, who was the guy in the photo?”
When Pete didn’t say anything Robie put his gun against the man’s forehead.
“Last chance,” said Robie.
Pete snorted. “You ain’t shootin’ me. That’d be murder. Lock your ass up forever in a Mississippi prison.”
Reel said, “Robie, if that’s what you want to do, use this.” She pulled a suppressor from her pocket and tossed it to him. He caught it and spun it onto the barrel of his pistol.
Reel added, “We can cut him up and drop him in that swamp we passed earlier. No lungs to inflate, the body stays down. Then the gators can have him. What’s left of him. So go ahead and kill him. It’ll be light soon and we need time to dump the body.”
“You two are killers!” Pete exclaimed.
“Damn, you are a genius,” said Reel.
Robie put the suppressed muzzle against Pete’s forehead and his finger slipped to the trigger guard.
“Nelson Wendell,” a panicked Pete blurted out.
“And who exactly is Nelson Wendell?” asked Robie.
“Dude in the photo with the kids.”
“And?”
“And he was chairman of Coastal Energy. Coal, gas, oil, you name it. One of the richest men in Mississippi, hell, the whole south. You must’ve heard’a him.”
“No. But he likes kids?” said Reel.
“Guess so.”
“And how did your dad come by those pictures?”
Now Pete looked very nervous. “I don’t want’a say.”
“Well, you’re going to have to overcome that,” said Robie, pressing the muzzle tighter against the young man’s head.
“Okay, okay. He had a shack at the back of his property.”
“I know. I’ve seen it. It’s still there.”
“Right. And it was secluded. He…he let this guy bring the kids there.”
“And he was paid for it?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would a rich guy put himself in your dad’s power like that?”
“He told Dad he was bringing his girlfriends over. That wasn’t so bad, I guess. Men back then screwed around as a matter of course. I mean this was a long time ago.”
“They still screw around, as a matter of course,” noted Reel.
“But your dad found out it wasn’t grown women having consensual sex?”
“He started watchin’ the place. He saw the kids. He got hold of some pictures. Then he started blackmailin’ the dude.”
“Enough to set him up in business with the Rebel Yell casino?”
“Pretty much how it was,” admitted Pete.
“And his first wife. The one that was in court?” asked Robie. “Did she know?”
“I don’t know. Dad never said. Swear to God.”
“But she must have known his money didn’t come from oil and gas rights on their land. Since no one did even any exploratory work there.”
“I guess that’s right.”
“And your mother, did she know about this?”
“We never talked about it. But I don’t think she did. My mom wouldn’t have liked that at all. She’s a good Christian. Goes to church every Sunday.”
“Well, maybe she did know and that’s why they divorced,” pointed out Robie.
“Could be,” conceded Pete.
“Which brings us back to the photos. How did your dad meet someone like Wendell?” asked Robie. “He’s rich and your dad was poor back then.”
“Well, back then Wendell wasn’t as rich. He and my dad run into each other some way. My old man didn’t want to be a farmer his whole life. He was always anglin’ for a way to get rich. And Wendell had money. Family money.” He looked up at the Willows. “Like the folks who owned this place did.”
Robie followed his gaze. “The Barksdales?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what happened to them?”
“Not really. I remember my dad talkin’ about them a few times. He said they just upped and left. Nobody knew they were even gone till the house come on the market for sale.” He looked around. “Pretty out of the way. Folks don’t come ’round here ’less they’re visitin’, and apparently folks didn’t visit much with the Barksdales.”
“Did you know them? Laura and her brother, Emmitt,” said Robie. “You ever see them in town?”