Bad Moon Rising - Page 27

“Why do you think those men came for you?”

“They theenk I see sometheeng.”

“You only saw Bodhi that once, right?”

“Thass all I see. I din’ see them burn the car or kill the woman inside either. I din’ see notheeng. I was with you when it happened. We saw the flames together. They came close to me a few times tonight and I hear one say to the other, ‘The Boss say to keel the Mexican’. Later, the other one say, ‘Why he want this one dead?’ And the other one say, ‘He know too much about the weemens.’ But hees wrong, I don’ know nada.”

“You can stay at our office tonight. We have a futon in Hondo’s office, and a shower in the storeroom.” I said.

Hondo said, “I’ll stay there with you.” He looked at me, “Those guys know who we are, so they know about our office.”

“I’ll stay, too.”

Hondo said, “It’ll be dawn in a few hours.”

I looked at him, “You’re hungry, aren’t you.” I didn’t make it a question, but a statement. Hondo eats in the morning, and he eats a lot, then not much for the rest of the day, mostly water and special mixes he puts in with it. I said, “What do you want, I’ll go get it.”

“No donuts.”

“Okay.”

“I trust you on whatever else you want to bring.”

“Juan, you want anything special?”

“Food.”

I gave him a thumbs-up, “My man.” I left the office and hopped into Hondo’s Mercedes, drawing the seat forward a notch because he was taller than me, and drove into the predawn of the city.

Five minutes later I picked up a tail in my rearview mirror. I called Hondo. He said, “What?”

“I’ve got a tail. I can’t see in the car, but it’s staying with me.”

“Make and model?”

“Lincoln, maybe ten years old.”

“Can you see the plates?”

“Maybe I can trick them and get it.”

“Be careful.”

I slowed down, but they wouldn’t get close enough for me to see the license. I looked for an opportunity, and spied one. I cut my wheels and accelerated, forcing them to speed to stay with me. I saw the spot just ahead and turned again, cutting in front of a pickup that just begun to pull into the drive-thru lane of an all night donut shop.

The pickup driver honked, then slid in behind me. The Lincoln slowed, hesitated, and then finally pulled behind the pickup.

The woman at the window said, “What’ll it be?”

“A dozen glazed.”

She handed the white paper bag to me in no time and I tossed her a twenty, “Keep the change,” I said, then drove out to the street and made a U so I could go back and see the Lincoln.

The Lincoln backed up so fast that blue smoke boiled from its rear tiers.

I went by it, slid the Mercedes in a half-skid and stopped behind them. I stepped out of my car and snapped photos of the rear license, then waved, backed out and roared toward the office. I felt smug, even superior.

That’s when a second vehicle dropped behind me. I wasn’t outrunning this one. It was a red Firebird hard on my bumper.

Tags: Billy Kring Mystery
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