Callisto (31 page)

He laughed about that like I'm kidding, which offended me and would've offended Condi if she's sitting in the back seat listening to all this. But at least she'd know the level of respect I have got for her, which will go in my favor when she gets the confession letter ...which she won't be getting now because it got stole along with the truck and phone and mowers and lawnmowing schedule and all the mess that's littering the floor of Dean's Dodge, they stole everything. But then I started worrying what happens if before they give the truck back to me the cops decide to open up that letter?
Chief Webb will get the very thing he needs to make a big impression on the guys at Homeland and maybe get on the news and use the publicity to run for Sheriff . . .

Shit!

Maybe they would've thought it's just a joke letter and left it alone, but now that I said Condi's name out loud it'll make Chief Webb get curious to know what's inside the envelope. Which he'll report and then come directly out to the house and dig up Dean and claim the glory, which will be better than the reward money for him because it's his reputation he's wanting to show off to people so's he'll get their vote. The first thing I'd do when I got home is dig Dean up again and hide him someplace else until Condi gets the letter and she'll be the one gets the glory for finding out Mad Muslim Dean is no threat at all. No way was I gonna let Chief Webb steal the glory from Condi Rice! It's a matter of personal honor, the way I see it.

“Me,” he says, “I could go for Oprah.”

I kept my mouth shut. He says, “Think there's a chance Lorraine'll move back out to Dean's place now that Bree's gone and Dean's on the run?”

“Maybe.”

“Nice big old house like that, all it needs is a new coat of paint. I guess you'll be moving out when that happens.”

“Maybe.”

“That is unless you and her have come to some kind of a personal arrangement.”

“I'd be happy to pay rent.”

He snorted like a horse that's got chaff up its nose. “Sure, Odell, you play it cool if you want, only don't forget any of this that I'm telling you. You can do yourself a power of good
with half a mil. Maybe Lorraine'd want a share in that. Nothing makes a woman more pleased with a man than he delivers the bucks and plenty of it. That's the real secret of happiness between the sexes, Odell, only nobody wants to talk about it because it doesn't put women in a nice light where the libbers have put them, all superior to men. Show 'em the money and they'll call you Honey.”

“Not all of them.”

“Right, there's a ninety-seven-year-old widow in Poughkeepsie thinks different.”

“I just want my truck back.”

“
Your
truck? Seems to me you're kinda taking over there, Odell. Not that I can't see your point of view. Dean won't be coming back to mow lawns anymore, that's for damn sure, and like I said it's a pretty nice place out there, and then there's Lorraine to consider, the way she'll need comforting over all this loss and publicity. The house'll be hers once Dean gets put away or shot down like a dog, either one. That's a real nice package for any man to be dealing with, especially if it comes with a half-mil bonus prize. Course, you'll be wanting to spend that in Hawaii, not on Lorraine.”

“I don't
know
anything and I didn't
do
anything.”

“Sure, I hear that. Only think about it.”

We didn't talk again till we're at the house and he's pulling into the yard. “Odell,” he says, “this business won't be over until Dean is caught or buried.” That's what
he
thinks. “Until that happens there's all kinds of ways the situation can develop. You need to be thinking about what's best for you. That's good advice for free I'm giving you.”

“Thank you.”

“No charge.”

I got out and he drove away. When his cruiser's out of sight I went and got the shovel and started in digging up that god-damn fucking mound of dirt. This is the sixth time it's been dug out now and I'm the digger four of those times, so I felt like if those times were strung end to end I could just about have dug my way down to Hell. This time I didn't have my lawnmowing gloves so my palms started to smart after awhile and I got a couple of dishrags and wrapped them around to stop any blistering that might be used for evidence against me when Chief Webb and the cops open that letter and come screaming out here with lights flashing to dig up Dean and get their glory. No way is that gonna happen. I didn't know yet where I'll stash him this time, I'd think about that when he's out of the hole.

I dug like a machine and pretty soon there he is in his plastic bag outfit. The problem now was where to put him. If my Monte Carlo was running good I could just drive him away someplace and hide him under a bridge on some lonely stretch of highway, but it isn't, so that idea is a nonstarter just like my car. I went in the barn and found an old rusted-out wheelbarrow that I can use to trundle Dean around instead of lifting and carrying him in my arms, which I'm grateful for because even if he's wrapped up good in plastic the smell is coming through pretty strong. This way I can take him a little way away without getting myself stinking like a dead man, but only as far as the wheelbarrow will go without breaking my arms or falling to pieces it's so old and rusted. So where would be a good place?

I did some thinking and walking at the same time around
the property and saw that way out beyond the back yard there is this little stand of cottonwoods, some of them fairly old because they are a good size. I went over and found there's kind of a dried-up wash close by that would likely be running with water in springtime but now in midsummer it's bone dry, and it has ate away the soil there, kind of undercutting the bank and leaving a gap just about big enough to cram a dead man inside of it. So there was my hideyhole for Dean, provided by Nature. I put him in the wheelbarrow and trundled him over some fairly rough ground to the dry wash and down into it to the crevice there and shoved him inside.

Anyone standing above would not have been able to see him there, but anyone stood on the other side of the wash or down in it like I am could see him easy, so what I did was get up on top of the bank and jumped up and down hard as I can until the bank finally gave way and collapsed down over him like I wanted. I went down with the earthslide but it's only a little way so no harm done only I'm twice as dirty now than before. But Dean has been hid away very nice for the time being so I'm satisfied. So long as nobody comes back here and sees that the soil has slid down just recent I'm okay.

I wheeled the barrow back to the barn and then filled in the hole. Again. Then I took a shower and run my brand new but very filthy shirt and jeans through the washing machine to get that fresh dirt out of them, disposing of the evidence, they call this. Now if Andy Webb wanted to come out here ready to dig up Dean he would be a disappointed man. If he waved the Condoleezza letter in my face and says he can prove it's mine by a handwriting expert I'll just say it was a joke letter and not really true, hah!

I fixed myself something to eat and wolfed it down fast after all that physical exercise hiding Dean, expecting any moment to hear sirens coming my way but that didn't happen, so after awhile I started to relax a little and watch TV with a beer or two. They are still running the Okeydokey stuff making Dean look like an idiot and barely mentioned the manhunt for him that's still ongoing, so it looks like the story is losing its legs they call that, which is okay by me, I want it all to go away.

I was hoping Lorraine might call me tonight but that didn't happen. I would've called Agent Jim Ricker to ask him to tell Chief Webb to give my truck back, but Jim's number is in the phone that's in the truck. All in all I felt kind of steamed about things being the way they are, but I told myself I had gone and done everything I could to make things turn out right and that's all you can do. So with the help of a couple more beers and a shot or three of the Captain inside me matters were not so bad that I couldn't find sleep, or maybe sleep found me.

Hello, Odell.

Hello, Sleep.

T
hey do say that there is no rest for the Wicked, and the fact that I was woke up from a deep sleep there in front of the TV might prove that's true if you have it in mind that I had done some wrong things so far. I don't know how long the phone had been ringing by the time I got up from the sofa and blundered into the kitchen to pick it up.

“Who's that?” says the voice at the other end.

“Odell ...”

“You sure?”

I thought about it. “Yeah.”

“You sound different.”

It's a guy I'm talking to and the voice is familiar, only I can't recall who.

“I just now woke up,” I said. “Who's this?”

“I'm not saying my name, not over the phone, man, it's too risky with all this about Dean.”

The nickel dropped. “Donnie?”

“No, man, don't say that. No names, okay? Maybe the line's bugged.”

“I don't think so.”

“You haven't been hearing, like, clicks and stuff on the line?”

“No.”

“Well, that don't mean squat, it could be bugged anyway. I won't talk business on a line that's maybe bugged. We need to meet someplace.”

“I can't, I'm stuck here. Someone stole the truck.”

“Stole the truck?”

“I know who did it. He'll give it back but not just yet.”

“You got no wheels at all?”

“No.”

He's quiet for a little while, thinking, I guess. I heard him squeeze out a fart but not a loud one. “Okay,” he says, “this is how we'll do it. No way am I coming near the place. They've probably got it under observation looking for Dean to come back, so no way. If you can't drive someplace and talk to me, what you gotta do is this, you go down to the road and start walking in the direction of Callisto, and I'll come along there and stop when I see you, okay?”

“I'm pretty tired right now. You woke me up . . .”

“Hey! I don't give a rat's ass how fucking tired you are, man! We have got business to discuss and that's just how it's gotta be! You do this my way or you can forget about doing business with me anymore, okay? Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Start walking,” he says, then he hung up.

Well, I could not ignore him because that would mean
getting in trouble with Lorraine who would be expecting the Tuesday package as per usual tomorrow night for delivery Wednesday to the prison, and trouble with Lorraine I did not want. So I started walking, stopping to take a long leak between the house and the road, then when I got to the road I did what Donnie said and started walking towards town, asking myself if Donnie was smart to be so careful about not coming to the house or just nervous.

I walked and walked, smelling the night air and admiring the moon, still kind of drunk after all that beer and rum. Around fifteen minutes after I started, here comes a set of headlights, the first I saw since I started walking, this is a real back road with very little traffic as I have said before, so I'm expecting this is Donnie. He pulled up a little ways off and turned off his engine, then his lights. I kept walking and saw it's the green Pontiac all right. I saw a cigarette lighter flame and then the little red dot of a smoke, then he got out of the car and leaned against the door, waiting for me.

“Lonely road,” he said when I reached him.

“Yeah.”

“You probably think I'm paranoid, but being careful has kept me out of prison.”

“Okay.”

“Now what we need to discuss here is the delivery date. No way am I doing things the way we did it before. I was okay with the regular Tuesday run even after Dean was on the news for murder, but now this other thing, this terrorism thing, that's got me spooked. No way can we continue on as before under circumstances like that, it's way too risky now with federal agents and whatnot hunting him down. Dean's
place is too hot for comfort from here on in, so we need to be doing things different. With me so far?”

“Uhuh.”

“Now I've spoke to my people about this and we think the deal should be as follows. Number one, I won't be coming to the place anymore, ever, so a different place has got to be arranged for the handover. And number two, from now on, to cover the extra risk we're taking in dealing with the sister and associate of a known terrorist, the price has gone up. From now on it's two and a half, not two. Same package as before but the price has gone up, that's just how it has to be with all this new dangerous element. Oh, and number three, the delivery day is Monday from now on, not Tuesday, just to make me feel safer, beginning tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, so have you got the extra five hundred? I know it's short notice but that's the decision taken by me and my associates about this.”