The Ex Who Wouldn't Die (47 page)

"Then they'd better keep their mouths shut."

"They will."

"I'll call you tomorrow with a location."

She disconnected the call and turned to Charley. "Tomorrow night? Are you insane? What if Dub doesn't come through by then? Where are we going to get a gun? How am I going to bluff my way out of this?"

Charley paced the floor, running his hands though his translucent hair. "We can't go to Smitty's downtown to get a gun. Too much risk Kimball might find out." He stopped and looked at her. "Maybe you could go back to Dallas and get one."

"
The creep
got my cell phone number. He checked for safety deposit boxes. He found out when and where I was going on a motorcycle trip. This man has a long reach. I
f I buy a gun in Dallas, he could easily find out. And I don't have the kind of connections you do so I could buy one illegally.
"

"How about Dawson? Maybe he can find one on the internet."

"
That's possible.
I'll call him." She punched in the number.

"Hi, Amanda. I've been working on the bikes all day and don't have anything on Sunny Donovan
yet."

"That's okay. No rush. But, uh, I do need a gun really fast. Can you get one on the internet?"

"You can get anything on the internet."

"Great. How long would it take?" She gave Charley a thumbs-up sign.

"I'm not sure. A few days, a week or two."

She gave Charley a thumbs-down sign. "That's too long. Never mind."

"Why do you need a gun?
"

"
It's a long story. If I live, I'll tell you all about it. In the meantime,
can you find a phone number for Dub…" She looked at Charley quizzically.

"Henderson," he supplied.

"Dub Henderson."

"Give me a minute."

"Why on earth did you choose tomorrow night?" she demanded of Charley while she waited for Dawson to return to the phone. "That gives us no time at all!"

"I didn't think Kimball would back off if we told him any later! You're the one who
blabbed to
my mom and got this thing ramped up."

Amanda drew in a deep breath and told herself to remain calm. Arguing with Charley wasn't going to help matters. His value was in being a con artist. He was worthless when it came to dealing with real situations. She was on her own now.

"I can't find a listing for Dub Henderson in Silver Creek," Dawson said. "Are you sure that's the right name?"

"Oh," Charley said. "His real name is Dwayne. We just call him Dub because who wants to be called Dwayne?"

Amanda heave
d a sigh. "Try Dwayne Henderson.
"

He returned in seconds with a phone number.

Amanda
signed off with Dawson
and immediately called
Dub's
number. No answer.

"He's probably still at work," Charley said. "We can try again in an hour."

"Great. I'll just sit here and have a nervous breakdown while we wait."

Somewhere around the tenth time she called, Dub answered.

"I need that gun tonight," she said without preamble.

"No can do. I need a few more days."

"We don't have a few more days. My life is in danger. The lives of Charley's parents are in danger."

Dub was silent for a few seconds. "I could maybe get you one but you wouldn't be able to register it."

"I don't care if I can register it! I don't care if it's stolen!"

Again Dub was quiet.

"It's…stolen?"

"We don't care!" Charley shouted.

"We don't care," she echoed. Surely her father would rather she be caught with stolen goods than be found dead.

"Okay," Dub agreed. "Tonight, nine o'clock, Shade Tree Inn."

***

Amanda arrived at the Shade Tree Inn a few minutes before nine. Irene had protested her leaving the house at that hour, but she'd assured her mother-in-law she wasn't going to see Kimball. That had only slightly assuaged Irene's concern. She would be up, worrying, until Amanda returned. Amanda left for her rendezvous to buy a stolen gun with a spot of warmth in
the middle of all that terror in
her heart.

"I watched really close and didn't see anybody following you," Charley told her as they walked across the lot toward the Shade Tree's entrance.

"Doesn't mean somebody wasn't following me, but I suppose it's marginally better than if you'd seen someone."

"Yeah. Either nobody was there or it was somebody with more skill at following than Sturgess."

"You have a real knack for making me feel better."

The same or similar faces as the ones on Friday night turned toward her when she walked inside, then turned back to their drinks. The same scents of stale beer and cigarette smoke greeted her, and the same or similar country music played on the juke box. Familiarity was doubtless an appeal for those who frequented this place.

From the same stool on which he'd sat Friday night, Dub lifted a hand. He was nursing a beer while a Coke sat on the bar beside him in front of an empty stool.

Amanda took a seat and lifted the Coke. "Thanks."

"Welcome."

"Be cool, Amanda," Charley advised, taking a seat on the bar between them. "You don't want everybody in here to know you're buying a gun."

Amanda shot him a scathing glare, then turned back to the business at hand. "How was your day, Dub?"

"Fine. How about yours?"

"Good." Didn't coun
t as a lie, Amanda told herself. S
he was just observin
g the social amenities.

Dub took a drink of his beer, and Amanda sipped her Coke.

Amanda hated that she was in a position to need Ch
arley's field of expertise. However,
he'd been helpful with Kimball, and she grudgingly admitted to herself she needed him tonight. She had no idea of the protocol for conducting the purchase of an unregistered gun. She looked up at him,
lifting
a questioning eyebrow.

"Be patient," Charley advised, then added, under his breath, "Like you know what that word means."

She couldn't retaliate except to shoot him another glare. He laughed happily at her inability to retort.

Dub drained his beer. "Think I'll go outside and smoke a cigarette."

"Go with him," Charley advised.

"A cigarette," she repeated. "Good idea. Mind if I join you?"

"Sure."

Together they slid off the stools and moved toward the door. Dub politely opened and held it for her.

Again she felt relief at breathing the clean night air. A person could get lung cancer
from
just hanging out in that bar.

She followed Dub to the side of the building where she'd seen a man retching on Friday night. Watching the ground carefully, she moved into the shadows
with Dub, stopping when he
stopped.

Slowly he reached inside his faded denim jacket and withdrew a small package wrapped in brown paper.

Wordlessly Amanda reached into the pocket of her motorcycle jacket and withdrew an envelope containing the amount of cash they'd agreed on. She handed her envelope to Dub, and he handed his package to her.

Dub turned aside, opened the envelope and flipped through the bills, then closed it again and shoved it into his jacket pocket. "Nice night," he said, taking out a package of cigarettes and tapping the bottom until one slid out.

"Yes," she agreed, turning away and peeking into her bag. It was a gun.

"Take it out," Charley demanded. "I want to see it."

Amanda looked around the parking lot and didn't see any
body
else. Reluctantly she withdrew the revolver, bending over to shield it from the sight of anyone who might drive up.

Charley leaned over and peered at it closely. "Yeah, that should pass, at least for our purposes. Only way he'd know the difference is if he had the serial number."

"Great. That makes me feel so much better," she whispered.

"What?" Dub asked.

"Great gun," Amanda said. "Makes me feel so much better to have protection."

Dub smiled. "I loaded it for you. Unloaded gun's 'bout as
useful as a screen door on a fishing boat
."

Amanda smiled. "True. I don't want to get close enough to pistol whip somebody. Thank you."

"Unload it, Amanda," Charley said. "I don't trust you with a loaded gun."

"You let me know if you need anything else," Dub said. "I hope ole Charley, wherever he is, knows I'm taking good care of his wife."

"I totally believe he know
s
," Amanda said.

"Hello, Amanda."

Amanda whirled at the sound of a familiar woman's voice behind
her. Sunny Donovan stood there
watching her.

"The gun!" Charley shouted. "Hide the gun!"

Amanda realized she still had the .38 in her hand. Hurriedly she shoved it inside her jacket, hoping the
black
gun hadn't been visible in the darkness. "Hi! Sunny! What are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by for a drink. How about you?"

Amanda studied the woman standing before her. Regal, even in blue jeans and a blue cotton shirt with a classic black leather purse hanging from her shoulder. Sunny did not belong in the Shade Tree Inn. What was she really doing here? Charley had said nobody was following her.
Nobody
would
likely
have excluded Sunny Donovan.

"Hi, Dub," Sunny greeted as Dub moved out of the shadows. Amanda wasn't surprised to find she knew him. Dub had probably used her services. Sunny likely knew more about the secrets in this town than even Irene.

"Hey, Sunny. Buy you a beer?"

"Thanks, Dub. I could use a cold one after spending the day in that hot courtroom."