drawing nearer. Cool air with some residual heat off the road. Across the reserve a ten-year-old Chevy sedan drove slowly along the street.
Footsteps.
Very quietly, out on the road. He risked a look between branches. Cyrus Bolt. His face a swollen mess crisscrossed with flesh-tone tape. Maybe thirty yards away, hands buried in his jacket pockets, something concealed there.
Twenty-five yards.
The Chevy sedan pulled up a couple of doors down from his house. The lights died. Quiet a moment and then a woman got out and shut her door gently and glanced up at his lit window and headed for his driveway.
Marshall said, “Shit.” Barely a whisper as he let his breath out.
He glanced back along the street. Bolt very close now, ten yards. Maybe his last short walk.
Marshall waited.
FOURTEEN
Lauren Shore
Finally better luck:
After her talk with Lemar she’d parked out front of that store across the road and checked the map to locate the diner he’d mentioned. North of Algodones, just off the 25. The next nearest turnoff was five miles north. Another one ten miles south. She called Martinez’s desk line.
She said, “I just talked to Alvin.”
“How did that go?”
She summarized the conversation. He thought about it a moment and said, “So it’s nothing, really. Because all he saw was a meeting he didn’t overhear.”
She said, “I’m interested in this blond guy. Lemar thought he looked like he knew what he was doing. Troy’s been around and Bolt’s just come off ten years or something at Beaumont, but apparently this guy took them both down with no one noticing. Two on one can get pretty loud if you’re not careful.”
“So he’s learned some stuff.”
“Yeah. I’d say so.”
He said, “Probably Special Forces. SEALs or Delta or something, probably good experience if you wanted to get into dealing meth. I mean, shit. It would seem like safe work.”
“Yeah, maybe. Can you spare thirty minutes?”
“Well. Not really.”
“I just saved you an hour and a half. You can at least give me thirty minutes back. Come on.”
“What for?”
“I’m just having a look at where this place is.”
“The diner?”
“Yeah, the diner. I was thinking if this guy’s just taken down two dealers and made off with a pound of meth or coke or whatever, he probably wouldn’t want to stay on the interstate too long. I mean, it’s not even seven, there’s not a lot of traffic. And if someone saw him and got the state cops out or even if Bolt and Rojas went after him it wouldn’t be a hard chase.”
“So what do you think?”
“I don’t know. I just thought if he was shaken up or worried about being obvious he might have turned off and waited it out a bit. Let the traffic build some more.”
“A Delta guy wouldn’t be shaken up after breaking someone’s nose.”
“No. But you know what I mean? I don’t think it’s stupid that maybe either the blond guy or the other two turned off and stopped pretty quickly.”
“Okay. So what am I meant to be doing?”
“Just have a look at the first couple of turnoffs north and south of the diner and see if there’s anything worth stopping for. Store or gas station or something. I can’t remember what’s up there. Maybe he saw an Exxon sign on the 25 and thought it was a good idea to wait it out a bit. Time of day you’d get noticed, too. Nobody around.”
“You mean he was worried about being noticed so left a quiet highway for an even quieter gas station.”
“I still think it’s worth checking. Wasn’t necessarily gas.”
He said, “Exactly the sort of job I could’ve got you to do.”
She laughed. “You could have asked. You couldn’t have actually got me to do it.”
“Yeah. Probably. All right. Fifteen minutes.”
“Thirty. You’ll want to get your teeth into it.”
“Twenty. I’ll call you.”
* * *
He rang her back in twenty-five. She was northbound on the Pan American, heading home.
He said, “Good
Footsteps.
Very quietly, out on the road. He risked a look between branches. Cyrus Bolt. His face a swollen mess crisscrossed with flesh-tone tape. Maybe thirty yards away, hands buried in his jacket pockets, something concealed there.
Twenty-five yards.
The Chevy sedan pulled up a couple of doors down from his house. The lights died. Quiet a moment and then a woman got out and shut her door gently and glanced up at his lit window and headed for his driveway.
Marshall said, “Shit.” Barely a whisper as he let his breath out.
He glanced back along the street. Bolt very close now, ten yards. Maybe his last short walk.
Marshall waited.
FOURTEEN
Lauren Shore
Finally better luck:
After her talk with Lemar she’d parked out front of that store across the road and checked the map to locate the diner he’d mentioned. North of Algodones, just off the 25. The next nearest turnoff was five miles north. Another one ten miles south. She called Martinez’s desk line.
She said, “I just talked to Alvin.”
“How did that go?”
She summarized the conversation. He thought about it a moment and said, “So it’s nothing, really. Because all he saw was a meeting he didn’t overhear.”
She said, “I’m interested in this blond guy. Lemar thought he looked like he knew what he was doing. Troy’s been around and Bolt’s just come off ten years or something at Beaumont, but apparently this guy took them both down with no one noticing. Two on one can get pretty loud if you’re not careful.”
“So he’s learned some stuff.”
“Yeah. I’d say so.”
He said, “Probably Special Forces. SEALs or Delta or something, probably good experience if you wanted to get into dealing meth. I mean, shit. It would seem like safe work.”
“Yeah, maybe. Can you spare thirty minutes?”
“Well. Not really.”
“I just saved you an hour and a half. You can at least give me thirty minutes back. Come on.”
“What for?”
“I’m just having a look at where this place is.”
“The diner?”
“Yeah, the diner. I was thinking if this guy’s just taken down two dealers and made off with a pound of meth or coke or whatever, he probably wouldn’t want to stay on the interstate too long. I mean, it’s not even seven, there’s not a lot of traffic. And if someone saw him and got the state cops out or even if Bolt and Rojas went after him it wouldn’t be a hard chase.”
“So what do you think?”
“I don’t know. I just thought if he was shaken up or worried about being obvious he might have turned off and waited it out a bit. Let the traffic build some more.”
“A Delta guy wouldn’t be shaken up after breaking someone’s nose.”
“No. But you know what I mean? I don’t think it’s stupid that maybe either the blond guy or the other two turned off and stopped pretty quickly.”
“Okay. So what am I meant to be doing?”
“Just have a look at the first couple of turnoffs north and south of the diner and see if there’s anything worth stopping for. Store or gas station or something. I can’t remember what’s up there. Maybe he saw an Exxon sign on the 25 and thought it was a good idea to wait it out a bit. Time of day you’d get noticed, too. Nobody around.”
“You mean he was worried about being noticed so left a quiet highway for an even quieter gas station.”
“I still think it’s worth checking. Wasn’t necessarily gas.”
He said, “Exactly the sort of job I could’ve got you to do.”
She laughed. “You could have asked. You couldn’t have actually got me to do it.”
“Yeah. Probably. All right. Fifteen minutes.”
“Thirty. You’ll want to get your teeth into it.”
“Twenty. I’ll call you.”
* * *
He rang her back in twenty-five. She was northbound on the Pan American, heading home.
He said, “Good
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