Bone Dry (Blanco County Mysteries) (31 page)

She moved both hands quickly. She shot her right hand out and clasped his left wrist as tightly as possible, hoping to keep the knife away from her.

Simultaneously, she slipped her left hand around the man’s testicles—and gave them the hardest, most vicious squeeze she was capable of. Not just a firm squeeze, but a
milking Uncle Bill’s most stubborn cow back in Minnesota
type of squeeze.

The howl that erupted from the man’s belly was amazing.

The knife dropped to the bed beside her, forgotten. Both of his hands circled her left wrist, trying to get her to release his family jewels. But the more he pulled at her arm, the more she tightened her grasp.

His screams of anguish were earsplitting now, bouncing off the walls of the small hotel room.

Then something happened that left Inga momentarily confused. She heard a tremendous crashing sound, and then felt several small stinging sensations on her face and torso. The attacker collapsed on top of her, then rolled off the bed, wailing in agony, arms wrapped around his head.

At the foot of the bed was Tommy. Staggering, but on his feet. Holding the remains of the ceramic lamp he had just smashed over the attacker’s head. A mask of blood coated his face.

The attacker struggled to his feet, pulling up his pants, and the men squared off in the center of the room. Both were hunkered low, exhausted and in pain, like two bone-weary boxers in the final round.

Tommy threw a looping right hand and missed, and the masked man got him in a headlock. But Tommy drove an elbow into the man’s sternum, and Inga could hear the air whoosh out of his lungs.

Inga grabbed the knife and vaulted off the bed, preparing to drive the knife deep into the man’s back.

That’s when there was a loud pounding at the door.

“You okay in there? I called the cops!” It sounded like Mel, the elderly man from room 1.

Now the attacker moved quickly, shoving Tommy out of the way and yanking the door open. Inga saw Mel standing outside, eyes wide. The would-be rapist sprinted past him into the darkness.

Tommy quickly grabbed the blanket off the bed and wrapped Inga in it. She blubbered a thank-you over and over, and Tommy whispered quietly in her ear and tried to console her.

“It’s all right now…” Tommy said to Mel, who was standing in the doorway. “Thanks for your help.”

“You sure?” Mel asked, looking suspicious.

Inga nodded. “Thanks, Mel. I’ll be okay.”

Mel shook his head and said, “Came to Texas, thought we’d be getting away from all the crime.” Then he shuffled back to his room.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked, surveying Inga at arm’s length.

She nodded. “Scared the pee out of me.”

“Any idea who it was?”

“None whatsoever. But the things he said…he knew who I was. It wasn’t random.”

Tommy cocked his head. “Sirens! I have to get out of here.”

“Tommy, you’re kidding me. It’s time to call this off. Let’s get your problems cleared up and get out of town.”

“After this? But then they’d win, Inga. That was obviously someone trying to dissuade us from protesting.”

“And he did a damn good job of it! I’m ready to go home, Tommy.”

The sirens were coming closer.

Tommy leaned in and gave Inga a kiss. “Don’t stay here, Inga. Go with the police. They’ll take care of you. I’ll be in touch when our work is done.”

“But, Tommy….”

He was already out the door.

She gave him a weak smile. “I sure would feel a lot safer. And I can’t leave town until Tommy—”

“I understand. No problem.”

She leaned in and gave him a hug. For a few seconds, he felt awkward, wondering whether he should hug back. But she pulled away before he could decide. “I’ll grab my things out of the trunk.”

Marlin led her inside, gave her a quick tour, then found a spare key in a kitchen drawer. “This opens both doors, front and back.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything in the pantry or the fridge. And you know where the bathroom is and everything…”

She smiled, and Marlin found it difficult to hold her gaze. She already appeared less distressed by the attack, more like her usual, confident self. “You’re helping me out so much, John. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble.”

She held up three fingers, making an oath. “I’ll be a perfect roommate, I promise. Won’t even hang my panties on the shower rod.”

Marlin felt his face getting warm, so he told her he had to go see the sheriff and would probably be gone for several hours. He walked out of the house and took a breath of fresh air.

Marlin drove into Johnson City and made his way toward the sheriff’s office. It was just after nine o’clock, a bright, cloudless morning with remarkably little humidity.

He parked behind the traffic barriers that circled the sheriff’s office. Most of the curious onlookers were gone now, and only one news van—from KHIL—sat hunkered nearby.

Just inside the barriers, Deputy Ernie Turpin was sitting in a lawn chair reading a magazine, glancing up now and then to make sure no civilians ventured too close.

Marlin asked him what the situation was, and the deputy said nothing had changed. “Damn guy’s stubborn as a mule,” the deputy said. “But hell, Garza’s sent food in a couple of times, ain’t put any pressure on him, so why
should
he come out, you know?”

Marlin had known Turpin for fifteen years, and knew the deputy was a take-action kind of guy. If Turpin were calling the shots, the building would have been raided just hours after Corey had taken Wylie hostage. Several men could be dead. On the other hand, Wylie might be free.

Marlin nodded at Bobby Garza’s cruiser in the distance. “Sheriff around?”

“Yeah, he ain’t hardly left since this thing began. Took a break early this morning for a coupla hours, but that’s it. Guy needs some sleep, if you want my opinion.”

Marlin didn’t, but he nodded thanks anyway, and walked over to Garza’s car. The sheriff was stretched out in the backseat, but Marlin could see that his body was too tense for him to be sleeping.

“Damn,” Marlin said through the window, “every time I drop by, you’re catching some z’s. Being sheriff looks awful damn easy.”

Garza kept his eyes closed. “Aw, man, I’m having that same nightmare again. The one with that pain-in-the-ass game warden.”

Marlin chuckled and climbed into the front seat, leaving his left foot on the pavement. Both men remained silent for several minutes, Marlin drinking from the traveler’s mug of coffee he had brought along. Garza’s police radio squawked on occasion.

Finally, Garza groaned and sat up in the backseat. Marlin eyed the sheriff’s haggard face in the rearview mirror. “Don’t you have a brother named Bobby? Looks like you, but a lot younger?”

Garza rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m too worn-out to whip your ass for that. Pass me that thermos beside you, will ya?”

Marlin opened the thermos and poured Garza a cup of coffee. He let the sheriff drink in silence for a few moments, then said, “No change, I guess?”

Garza ran a hand over a stubbled cheek. “No, he’s still in there, eating eggs and sausage courtesy of Blanco County. Had some pepperoni pizza for dinner last night. But I’m screwed, ’cause if I don’t send food in, Wylie goes hungry, too. Meanwhile, certain people are starting to get uptight.”

Marlin raised his eyebrows.

“The mayor, for one,” Garza said. “He was griping at me last night, saying this thing would ruin business for the weekend. Like it’s my fault we had to rope off some of the little shops along the sidewalk. Says we should shrink our perimeter a little, give people a little more access to the surrounding area.” Garza’s teeth were clenched now. “But if Corey decides to let a few bullets fly, maybe a tourist gets hit by a stray, guess who everybody would blame? Not the mayor, I can tell you that much.”

Marlin nodded in agreement, hoping to cool Garza down a little. “You’re doing the right thing, Bobby. Forget what they’re saying. Just go with your gut.”

“I know, I know. I just want to get Wylie out of there, but it keeps dragging on. Corey’s still thinking you’re gonna pin it on someone else. Speaking of which, have you heard anything from the lab?”

“Not yet.” Marlin glanced at his wristwatch. “I need to head back to the house and give them a call.”

“Use my cell phone.” Garza slid the phone off his belt and passed it to Marlin. “The lab’s phone number’s in there if you scroll through the memory.”

Marlin stared at the phone as if it were a Rubik’s cube. “Uh...”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You haven’t joined the age of technology yet.” Garza found the number, dialed it, and passed the phone to Marlin. Ten seconds later, Marlin had Richard Fanick on the line.

“Glad you called. I just tried you at home,” the technician said. “Got some early results for you. I pulled one set of prints off the plastic bag, then the same guy on the manila envelope, plus two other individuals. Got matches on all three. I would have had them for you late last night, but AFIS was tied up.”

Marlin pulled a small spiral notebook and a pen from his breast pocket. “No, this is fantastic. I appreciate you getting on it so fast. Tell me what you got.”

“First off, Bert Gammel. But then, you expected that. His prints were on both the plastic and the paper. I haven’t fooled around with the bills yet, but I imagine we’ll find his prints there, too. Plus probably a dozen others—people who’ve handled the bills while they were in circulation.”

“Yeah, I imagine you’re right.”

“But I’ll start on the bills shortly, mainly looking for the same prints as the three on the envelope. Anyway, sorry to get sidetracked, but print number two...” Marlin heard rustling papers at the other end of the line. “It’s…a guy named Salvatore Mameli.”

Marlin sat up a little straighter and caught Garza’s eye in the rearview. “Salvatore Mameli?” Garza leaned over the back of the seat.

Fanick continued: “Affirmative. He’s in the system from drunk driving last year. Pled it down to a public intoxication. Name ring a bell?”

“You bet it does.” Marlin said. “A very loud bell.” Suddenly, Marlin’s bribery theory was making a lot more sense. “And number three?”

“A guy who got nailed on a simple assault a couple of years ago. Looks like a bar fight.” Fanick said the name—and Marlin almost dropped the phone.

Maynard Clements.

Marlin and Garza agreed that it would be best to ride out to Salvatore Mameli’s house together in the sheriff’s car. Along the way, Marlin relayed his bribery theory and detailed his conversations with Maynard Clements.