Authors: Reavis Z Wortham
Vengeance is Mine (16 page)
Griffin lived alone in an older Craftsman-style house on the east side of town. It was after midnight when Tony drove past. Lights glowed through the paper shades. At the intersection, he made a right, drove half a block farther, and parked against the curb.
Inconspicuous in the clothing he still wore after the float trip, and with the .38 deep in his front pocket, Tony strolled down the street. The neighborhood didn't have alleys. The only access was from the front. When he reached the house, the street out front was empty, as was the garage. Glancing around to make sure he wasn't observed, Tony hurried up one concrete strip of the drive and into the shadows under the living room window.
He pushed behind the shrubs growing against the frame pier-and-beam house and peeked through the two-inch gap below the pull down shade. A man sat in a chair with his back to the window. He was obviously not Sheriff Griffin. A woman on her knees in the adjoining dining room rummaged through the lower drawer of a cheap buffet. Their heated voices came through the screen of a partially opened window.
The woman turned and pointed a finger. “You had only one thing to do, and you blew it.”
“Blew it, hell!” The agitated man moved his head in anger. “Our job was to hit the bank, get as much money as possible, and to take box one-thirty-eight and two-sixty-four. It's not my fault Griffin shorted us on our part of the take.”
“You got the wrong boxes is why!”
He threw his hands in the air and leaned back. “We don't
know
that. We got away with what you said you wanted.”
She stood and put her hands on her hips. “There were supposed to be pictures. That's what he told us to get, a packet of pictures.”
“Well, we didn't have much time to stand there and talk to the guy with the keys. He was so nervous I thought he'd fall out, and I punched them boxes as fast as I could.”
He referred to a homemade device that he learned to use only days before. While she kept everyone in the bank down on the floor, his job was to knock out the locks and find the packet of photos. It was surprisingly simple to clamp the rig onto the box with a steel pin positioned directly over the lock, hit the plunger with a hammer from the bag at his feet, and pop the mechanism.
“Well, there were supposed to be pictures.”
“All right. I believe you, but they weren't in there. Let's find the rest of our share of the bank money and go before we get caught. It's a wonder we ain't in jail already.” She disappeared into the kitchen. The man shook his head and shifted forward to sit on the edge of the couch. “I've already looked in there.”
She came back into the living room after several minutes, her face bright, carrying several packages wrapped in white butcher paper. “I told you.”
“What are you gonna do with steaks?”
“This is the money, you idiot. It might say âsteak' on the outside, but he wrapped the bills in this and stored them in his deep freeze.”
The man launched himself from the chair, grabbed one of the packages, and unwrapped it.
She wiped her damp forehead with one hand and carefully patted her hair. “You don't trust me?”
“You've got to be kidding.”
She shook her head as he thumbed through the sheaf.
He opened another stack of bills. “You think this is all?”
“It's enough to make up what he owes us for our share.”
Their mood swiftly changed from argumentative to positively happy. He hugged her and she beamed up at him. In the shadows outside, Tony realized their stormy relationship was as full of ups and downs as a roller coaster ride.
The man laughed. “This is a sweet deal. We're getting paid at least twice for the same job.”
“That bank robbery was a great cover for a couple of lock boxes.”
“You planned it, baby!” He rushed into the bedroom and returned with a pillow case.
She dropped the white packages inside and wiped her hands on her jeans. “All right.”
“Let's get that last job done and get out of here.”
The woman's face fell. The man held his hand toward her. “Yeah, I know you think it's a bad idea, but it won't take but a few minutes and then we're gone.”
“I don't think it's a good idea for us to hang around anymore.”
“It'll be all right. Griffin wants me to take someone out.”
“Is this for Griffin, or you?”
He nodded. “Griffin. I agreed to do two jobs and I'm going to finish the second, come hell or high water.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “We robbed a bank, broke in a sheriff's house to steal the money back that he wouldn't give us because he said we didn't get the right box, and now you want to do him a favor and shoot someone? Ridiculous.”
He glowered at the woman. “I do have a little honor left.”
This time she threw her head back and laughed. “My God! That word. There's no honor among
thieves
. Haven't you ever heard that before?”
“There is as far as I'm concerned. You might have learned something different, showing your tits in the Carousel Club there in Dallas, but I'm going to do what I said and take the guy out. If you want to stay with me, you'll do what I say.”
She shook her head and rolled her large, almost almond-shaped eyes. “I thought Jack Ruby was a nutcase when he was my boss before he went and got himself a nice prison cell, but I think I've hooked up with someone worse than him.” The words were there, but the look in her eyes told Tony that her interest in the man was deeper than she acted.
“Don't worry. No one will figure out who we are. I think those stupid disguises worked. Let's go check in at the Holiday Inn and get some sleep. We'll do the job and be in Hot Springs before you know it. How does that sound?”
Tony recalled the description of the bank robbers that he'd heard on television. When the couple went through the First National door, they were dressed as conspicuously as possible. The man wore a bright blue suit with a tie painted with a hula girl. His hair was long, greasy, and combed back in a ducktail. A bloodstained bandage covered half of his face. The woman stood out like a sore thumb in a skin tight shirt and black pedal pushers, and hair teased into a blond bouffant.
Now, his face was completely smooth and his hair was much shorter. Hers was also short, brunette, and flipped. They could have been any young couple living in town or traveling through Chisum.
Had they been staying with Griffin? It could explain why they hadn't yet been found, hiding out with the man looking for them.
Tony shook his head at the strategy that didn't make sense, but worked.
That also cleared up the reason why Griffin came north toward Oklahoma. While he sent deputies and police in all directions, those two probably drove right to the house to hide out until things cooled off in Chisum.
Brilliant.
She turned off a lamp. “I don't like it.”
“I don't care. Shut up.”
They flicked off the last lamp and left. Tony watched the couple hurry down the street to a sedan parked on the next block. Their headlights came on and the car pulled away. Still in the shadows, Tony thought about waiting for Griffin to get home. It would be a simple matter to kill him and leave. He'd done it many times in other cities.
But there was no way to know how long Griffin would be gone, or if he'd even show up before dawn. Standing around only risked discovery.
He left the shadows and walked down the street. A car approached and the headlights split the darkness. He waved and squinted straight ahead, trying not to lose his night vision. Everyone waved in Chisum. There was no way to know if anyone waved back behind the headlights, but he didn't care. They passed without slowing.
Tony got into his own vehicle and drove home to Center Springs.
“Sonofabitch!”
In the dark car, Johnny Machine frowned at Michael. “What?”
“When the headlights hit that guy, the one that waved at us like we're family, he looked like Anthony Agrioli.”
The Machine looked over his shoulder. “Who's 'at?”
“Agrioli is one of Best's lieutenants.”
In the backseat, Nicky looked over his shoulder. “You think Best sent someone else out here for Griffin, too?”
Michael shrugged. “Maybe.”
Nicky couldn't figure it out. “So he waved at us like he knew we were gonna be here?”
“I guess.” Michael slowed to pass between two parked cars. “I wouldn't have noticed him until he did that.”
“Where do you know him from?”
“He worked for Nunzio Perfetto in Chicago for a while, before Best called him out to Vegas. I knew him there, and then I saw him a couple of times when I was in the casino. He's a good man.”
“It can't be him. Maybe the guy only looks like Agrioli.” The Machine settled back into the bench seat and worried the radio. “I can't find anything except for this hillbilly shit.”
“No, that was him. I'm sure of it.”
“So what?” Nicky took off his hat and leaned his head back to look through the sloped rear window at the moon. “Best sent someone else.”
“That don't make no sense.” Michael shook his head. “The Boss wouldn't fly us out here, then send one of his own men without telling me.”
The Machine was tough and frightening, but his thought processes were sometimes a little slow. “Maybe he's here to keep an eye on us.”
“I don't think so. Mr. Best never did that before.” Michael steered around the corner and cruised the block, passing Griffin's now-dark house.
Nicky unconsciously adjusted his hat on the seat beside him. “So what are we gonna do now?”
Michael looped back toward Main Street. “Nothin'. I don't wanna screw nothin' up. If Mr. Best sent Agrioli, then he has his reasons.”
“Hey,” the Machine scratched his chin. “Do you think Agrioli already did the hit? Maybe he tapped Griffin and left.”
“Could be.” Michael came to a decision. “We hold off tonight, go back to the motel, and give Mr. Best a call in the morning.”
Nicky sighed. “He ain't gonna be happy.”
Michael flicked a glowing butt into the darkness. “I ain't gonna be happy to stay in that stinking Holiday Inn another night, either.”
The next morning at breakfast, Tony and Samantha heard a knock on their screen door. Tony left the table and stepped into the entry hall to see past the staircase. The screen diffused a backlit shape and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
Sheriff Griffin raised his hand in greeting. “Good morning.”
Tony waited, the ten feet between them an unsecure cushion. “Good morning. How can I help you, Sheriff?”
Griffin stuck his thumbs behind the hand-tooled leather gun belt and rocked back on his heels. “Can I speak to you, Mr. Agrioli?”
Tony didn't want to talk to the sheriff, but even more, he didn't want the man in his house. He crossed the short distance, pushed through the door, and stepped uncomfortably close, intending to push Griffin back.
Instead, Griffin used Agrioli's momentum and jerked his head toward the car. “Come on.”
Tony found himself following the sheriff away from the two-story house. It made him nervous, because his .45 was on the living room mantle. He didn't even have the .38 revolver in his pocket that morning.
His nervousness faded when Griffin stopped by his car and stuck both hands in his pockets. “Mr. Agrioli, I remember you.”
“I don't think we ever met before, Sheriff.” Tony noticed the stubble on Griffin's cheeks, and his puffy eyes that told a story of little sleep.
“Yes we have. I know you, and you know me. It took a minute to place your face the other day on the side of the highway when Washington had you in cuffs, but I did.”
It was obvious Griffin didn't want to say where they'd seen each other, wanting Tony to fill in the blanks.
Tony hated playing games, wishing Griffin would come out and say what he meant, because there was always the chance the crooked sheriff was simply fishing for information. “Sheriff, my wife and I have only recently moved in.”
“I know that. And I know you ain't got a job, and that's unusual for a man in this community. I'm surprised Parker hasn't been around here asking questions.”
“The constable and I have talked about a lot of things. There are many job possibilities to explore. What can I do for you? Have I broken the law in any way? Am I under arrest?”
Griffin looked genuinely surprised. “Why, no, I don't have anything to arrest you for, right now. I came out to see if you wanted a job, before you moved.”
Tony squinted. “I don't need a job right now, and I didn't say I was going anywhere.”
“Sure you are. I believe you're going to do something for me, and then you're leaving north Texas for good. When you do, I won't come after you or your woman.”
“What do you want?”
“I know what you do for a living, and I know you've been sent here for me. But I'll make you a better deal. I'll give you twenty thousand dollars to leave me alone and do a job for
me
. You kill Ned Parker and that nigger deputy who arrested you. Then you can tell Best that I run off.” Griffin spread his hands. “Ain't that simple? Killing me will bring all kinds of hell down on your head, but you can put those two down and nobody around here will come looking because I'll cover for you. You'll get paid twice, once from Best and once from me, and go on back to Vegas with money in your pocket when I disappear. What your boss don't know won't hurt him.”
Tony raised an eyebrow at the idea. “People read newspapers. If someone hired a guy to kill you, he'll be checking the papers, or he'll have someone watch the news. You can't get away like that.”
“They'll read that I
disappeared
. That happens around here. I had a deputy vanish into thin air a couple or three years ago, and he ain't been found
yet
.”
A farm truck passed on the oil road beside the house. The driver raised a finger from the steering wheel in a wave. Griffin threw up a hand, knowing it was expected.
“He saw us together.” Tony nodded toward the retreating truck. “If I've learned anything about this place, it's that people talk about the littlest things with each other.”
“Who cares? We'll both be gone from this one-horse town when it's all over, because this has to happen quick.”
“I'm not here for you and I don't want to be gone. We like where we are. Sam and I may want to spend the rest of our lives in this house.”
“You can quit with that story. I know better.”
“It isn't a story and you aren't as good as you think you are. I'm out of the business.”
Griffin threw his hands up in exasperation. He always felt that he was the smartest guy in the room. “Look boy, you can't con a con man. Y'all don't belong in Texas, and you stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, that isn't why you're in Center Springs.” He lowered his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “Like I said, we both know, and I don't think either of us wants that. I'm making you a good deal. I'm giving you the chance to pocket two salaries, and go back to Best a hero.” Griffin snapped his fingers. “Better yet, here's what I'll do. I'll give you another twenty thousand to go back and kill Best. Whaddaya think of that?”
That unbelievable suggestion finally confirmed what Tony already knew. Griffin was either completely insane or out of touch with reality. A feeling boiled up in Tony, feeding the urge to kill someone. It was an almost overwhelming injection of adrenaline.
Silence stretched so long that sweat beaded on Griffin's forehead, the only sign of nervousness. The sheriff wiped a trickle from his cheek. “Look, I'll make this even easier for you. I'll have someone help you with Washington. He'll be the toughest to take down. He's seeing a woman named Rachel. Her house is about five miles down a dirt road south of Reid's store in Forest Chapel. Washington shows up there every day about five in the evening and he won't be expecting you. Go there, shoot the big bastard, and leave. I'll have the money ready for you when you're finished. You've done this before. Twenty thousand, Saturday afternoon, at five.”
The vein throbbed in Tony's forehead. His hand clenched, and he wished for a baseball bat. Three good whacks. Three. It would eliminate the problem standing before him, and give him the release he desperately needed. It had been too long. He knew then that he would soon kill Griffin. With that thought, the pressure immediately lessened. Relieved, Tony winked at Griffin. It was his promise to put the man in a shallow grave very, very soon.
Griffin mistook the wink for agreement and relaxed just as the Parker kids coasted past the store on their bicycles. They pedaled hard for the two men standing under the ancient oak trees in Tony's front yard.
“Mister Tony!” Top called. “Did you hear what happened?”
The kids' enthusiasm dimmed when they recognized the sheriff. Neither liked the man, but they couldn't explain why, even if asked.
Pepper stopped her bike beside them. “Hidy, Sheriff. Mr. Tony, the Wilson boys rounded up a bunch of men and they all went dog hunting.”
For a moment, Tony didn't know what to say. Did these people organize dog hunts, like a deer hunt? “Tell me about it.”
Before Pepper could answer, Top spoke up. “Before daylight this morning Ty Cobb and Jimmy Foxx caught some more dogs killing a calf out in Mister Bronson's pasture and shot two of them. Then they came up to the store and gathered up a bunch of men to help. They trailed them down to the creek bottoms.”
Pepper broke in with the exciting conclusion. “Them Wilson boys was waiting, and when the rest of the men ran the dogs in their direction, they opened up on 'em. Mr. Ike said it was like a deer drive they have back east, whatever that means. They killed them all.”
Tony chewed the inside of his lip in thought. “So I guess that gets you off the hook, doesn't it, Top?”
“I did my share.”
“It looks like it's over for you now.”
“Yessir.”
“And when it's over, you hang up your guns, isn't that right, Sheriff?”
Griffin tried to read Tony's face. “A smart man knows when things are over, but he also knows some things aren't over until they're done.”
Pepper frowned. “What?”
Tony looked down at Pepper. “
He
knows. Let's go to the store and get a sodaâ¦a Coke. How's that?” Without a glance at Griffin, he paced the kids as they walked their bikes down his long, dusty drive.
Griffin's voice was clear in the still air. “Remember the time, Mr. Agrioli! And don't pay too much attention to those two little nits, they'll pester you to death if you let 'em.”
Tony felt a catch his throat.
Oh my god, Griffin and Best have been talking.
Nits.
Moments later, Griffin caught them and slowed the car. “Best, to you and that pretty wife of yours.” He raised one finger in a wave.
The kids waved back. Feeling his temple throb again with renewed savagery, Tony swallowed down the growing rage burning deep inside. He watched him drive away.
Best to your wife.
Best.
Tony watched the car disappear and vowed to go back to Vegas and beat the sonofabitch into jelly if Best included the kids, the Parkers, or especially Sam in his vendetta.
He didn't care if he
was
Sam's father.
