Duke City Split (26 page)

He zoomed down the hill, past Johnny Muller’s apartment building, and turned at the first intersection he came to. He’d turned twice more, into a suburban neighborhood, before he heard the first sirens.

Bud slowed then, keeping to the speed limit, stopping for stop signs. Just keep moving, generally southward, through the maze of curving streets, until he could reach one of the thoroughfares that sliced through the neighborhoods every mile or so.

His throat felt on fire and he had to swipe tears away so he could see where he was driving. Mick’s death kept playing out in his mind like a movie. The blood on his shirt. The surprise on his face as he dropped to his knees. That final look in his eyes. Had Mick come to his senses at the end? Had his bloodlust left him as his life dwindled away? No way to know. Too late now.

Bud gulped air, trying to maintain long enough to get home. As he turned onto the winding street that served as the spine of their subdivision, he called Linda. The sound of her voice was the only thing that could make him feel any better.

She picked up right away.

“Are you all right? I called the house and didn’t get an answer.”

“I’m almost home,” he said. “Had to take care of something with Mick, but we’re done now.”

“You sound out of breath,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“It got a little noisy, but it’s over now. I’m fine.”

“And Mick?”

Bud’s throat closed up. He managed to say, “He didn’t make it.”

“Oh, no.”

Bud held the phone away and coughed. He still could hear Linda talking on the other end. “Oh, hon, I’m so sorry. Poor Mick. Poor you. You’re nearly home?”

“Yeah.”

“You were there when it happened? How did you get away?”

“I didn’t hurt anybody. I was just Mick’s backup. That’s the truth. Hell, he kept trying to send me away. But we ran into these cops and Mick got shot. There was nothing I could do for him.”

She sniffled into the phone.

“I don’t think anybody got a good look at me,” he said. “So I just got out of there as fast I could.”

“Oh, Bud.”

“It’s finished now. Mick’s gone. There’s a good chance nobody can put me at the scene. We wait a while, maybe this all goes away.”

“Except for the money,” she said bitterly.

“What are we gonna do, give it back? It’s our fresh start, Linda.”

He steered the SUV into the driveway and sat looking at their tidy house.

“I need to see you,” he said. “I need to see the girls. Come home.”

She took a deep breath and said, “We’ll be there soon.”

M
AX
A
USTIN
is the pseudonym of Steve Brewer, the author of two dozen books about crooks, including the Bubba Mabry mysteries and the recent crime novels
A Box of Pandoras
,
Calabama
, and
Lost Vegas
. His first Bubba novel,
Lonely Street
, was made into a 2009 Hollywood comedy starring Robert Patrick, Jay Mohr, and Joe Mantegna.

A former journalist and humor columnist, Brewer teaches in the Honors College at the University of New Mexico. He’s a frequent speaker at mystery conventions and was toastmaster at Left Coast Crime in 2011.

Married and the father of two adult sons, Brewer lives in Albuquerque.