the old days and then figured she wanted something a lot different. She never married, although the rumor was that she had regular alliances with a couple of the businessmen who traveled through periodically.
Steve looked over to Neal.
“Cash,” Neal said.
Evelyn didn’t flinch at the hundred-dollar bill he laid down.
“Speaking of tabs,” she said to Steve, “you haven’t seen Paul Wallace around, have you?”
Say what? Say who? Whom? Neal slowly put his change back in his wallet and examined his purchases. Which Paul Wallace is she talking about?
“Paul Wallace …” Steve said, testing the sound to see if it rang a bell.
“I believe he’s one of Hansen’s hands,” Evelyn said. “Came in here and ran a tab against his pay, and I haven’t seen him since. Been about three weeks. Hansen pays every two, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. Kinda tall? Blond? Nice-looking guy?” Steve asked.
Harley McCall. Neal wished he had a chance to slap the real Paul Wallace all over again. Son of a bitch should have told me that they switched identities. Then again, I should have thought to ask.
“Yeah, that’s him. I usually don’t give credit unless they’ve been around awhile, but he had this cute little boy with him, and he was buying kids’ stuff—cereal, cookies …”
Neal wondered if they noticed the bass drum banging in the room—his heart beating a fast, steady boom-boom-boom.
Steve said, “Sorry, Evelyn, I haven’t seen him around in at least three weeks. Course, there’s no reason I would. I’m not over to Hansen’s much. I can ask Shelly to ask Jory if you want.”
Evelyn shook her head. “No, I don’t want to embarrass the man. But if you run into Hansen, tell him to tell his cowboy to come see me. Course, he’s probably moved on somewhere and stiffed me.”
I hope not, Evelyn. Boy, do I hope not.
“Cute kid, though,” Evelyn observed.
Neal put his stuff in the back of the pickup as Steve looked over to Brogan’s.
“I hate to waste gasoline on one errand,” Steve said.
“I’ll meet you over there,” Neal answered. “I want to make a call.”
He walked down to the gas station, where there was a phone booth. He dialed an 800 number.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t fire you right now,” Levine said as he came on the phone.
“I think I’ve found McCall,” Neal answered.
“Okay, that’s one reason. Tell us where, we’ll have a crew on the next plane.”
“Too soon,” Neal answered. He told him about his conversation with Paul Wallace, his visit with Doreen, his luck with the Mills family, and what he had found out at the store.
“He may have moved on or he may be just lying low at the ranch,” Neal said. “Wait until I find out which.”
Joe Graham came on the line. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”
“Sorry, Dad. Ed can fill you in. I’m fine.”
“Let me put a crew in place, anyway,” Ed said.
“There’s nowhere to put one, Ed. You’d spook everybody. I have to get going.”
He saw Cal Strekker coming. And there was something … just something …
Ed said, “Now Neal, just try to locate him. Don’t do anything, you got that? We’ve done some research on the True Identity Church, and—”
“Ed, activate that cover story.”
“Neal, what are you doing?” Ed demanded.
Strekker was getting closer.
“Ed, just get me covered! I have to go!”
“Carey, you don’t—”
Neal hung up the phone. Cal Strekker was walking right past him.
“Bitch!” Neal shouted to the phone.
Cal stopped and sneered. “Woman trouble?” he asked.
“Is there any other kind?” Neal answered.
“Stick to whores,” Cal answered. “You pay ’em, you poke ’em, they give you any shit, you smoke ‘em.”
Okaaaay, Neal thought.
Levine buzzed down to the operator.
“Where?” he asked.
“Austin, Nevada.”
Levine looked at Graham. “It’s possible.”
Graham nodded. Since the failed bag job they had devoted their
Steve looked over to Neal.
“Cash,” Neal said.
Evelyn didn’t flinch at the hundred-dollar bill he laid down.
“Speaking of tabs,” she said to Steve, “you haven’t seen Paul Wallace around, have you?”
Say what? Say who? Whom? Neal slowly put his change back in his wallet and examined his purchases. Which Paul Wallace is she talking about?
“Paul Wallace …” Steve said, testing the sound to see if it rang a bell.
“I believe he’s one of Hansen’s hands,” Evelyn said. “Came in here and ran a tab against his pay, and I haven’t seen him since. Been about three weeks. Hansen pays every two, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. Kinda tall? Blond? Nice-looking guy?” Steve asked.
Harley McCall. Neal wished he had a chance to slap the real Paul Wallace all over again. Son of a bitch should have told me that they switched identities. Then again, I should have thought to ask.
“Yeah, that’s him. I usually don’t give credit unless they’ve been around awhile, but he had this cute little boy with him, and he was buying kids’ stuff—cereal, cookies …”
Neal wondered if they noticed the bass drum banging in the room—his heart beating a fast, steady boom-boom-boom.
Steve said, “Sorry, Evelyn, I haven’t seen him around in at least three weeks. Course, there’s no reason I would. I’m not over to Hansen’s much. I can ask Shelly to ask Jory if you want.”
Evelyn shook her head. “No, I don’t want to embarrass the man. But if you run into Hansen, tell him to tell his cowboy to come see me. Course, he’s probably moved on somewhere and stiffed me.”
I hope not, Evelyn. Boy, do I hope not.
“Cute kid, though,” Evelyn observed.
Neal put his stuff in the back of the pickup as Steve looked over to Brogan’s.
“I hate to waste gasoline on one errand,” Steve said.
“I’ll meet you over there,” Neal answered. “I want to make a call.”
He walked down to the gas station, where there was a phone booth. He dialed an 800 number.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t fire you right now,” Levine said as he came on the phone.
“I think I’ve found McCall,” Neal answered.
“Okay, that’s one reason. Tell us where, we’ll have a crew on the next plane.”
“Too soon,” Neal answered. He told him about his conversation with Paul Wallace, his visit with Doreen, his luck with the Mills family, and what he had found out at the store.
“He may have moved on or he may be just lying low at the ranch,” Neal said. “Wait until I find out which.”
Joe Graham came on the line. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”
“Sorry, Dad. Ed can fill you in. I’m fine.”
“Let me put a crew in place, anyway,” Ed said.
“There’s nowhere to put one, Ed. You’d spook everybody. I have to get going.”
He saw Cal Strekker coming. And there was something … just something …
Ed said, “Now Neal, just try to locate him. Don’t do anything, you got that? We’ve done some research on the True Identity Church, and—”
“Ed, activate that cover story.”
“Neal, what are you doing?” Ed demanded.
Strekker was getting closer.
“Ed, just get me covered! I have to go!”
“Carey, you don’t—”
Neal hung up the phone. Cal Strekker was walking right past him.
“Bitch!” Neal shouted to the phone.
Cal stopped and sneered. “Woman trouble?” he asked.
“Is there any other kind?” Neal answered.
“Stick to whores,” Cal answered. “You pay ’em, you poke ’em, they give you any shit, you smoke ‘em.”
Okaaaay, Neal thought.
Levine buzzed down to the operator.
“Where?” he asked.
“Austin, Nevada.”
Levine looked at Graham. “It’s possible.”
Graham nodded. Since the failed bag job they had devoted their
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