Elmore Leonard - Raylan

This was a time before Delroy went down for shootin the snitch, the idea of Chicks Who Rob Banks came to him.

He owned a cocktail lounge on New Center Road called the Cooz Club that featured chicks writhing bare-naked on a pole that rose from the narrow strip of stage back of the bar. They’d get up there in their heels, eyes dreamy, out of focus, and the guys at the bar would bet on which chick would fall off, side bets on hitting the bartender or not. He made drinks looking over his shoulder. Once Delroy had the idea, he turned the bare-naked ladies into bank-robbin chicks and was doing fine till Janie tripped the dye pack. He’d told them how many times, check the money in bank straps before leaving and remind each other. Jane was alone and hadn’t checked.

He phoned the other chicks, Kim and Cassie, had to wake them up saying, “Collect your clothes and valuables, any dope, get all your shit together and be ready to leave when I get there in ten minutes. You listenin?” He said, “Jane got picked up and is gonna roll over on us. Jane, the chick you do banks with.” He’d have to go over there and slap ’em some, make sure they took everything they owned out of the house. Finally, they got in Delroy’s car and drove out to horse country.

Going past miles of white fences and thoroughbreds raising their heads to see Delroy’s Mercedes flying past.

They were approaching trees and some bushes now. Delroy slowed down and stopped on the side of the road.

“Come on out and we’ll relieve ourselves together, ladies. Won’t have another chance to pee-pee for a while.”

Kim said she couldn’t do it with him watching.

Delroy said, “Girl, I see you bare-ass naked every day. Get out the car.”

Once the girls were out looking for a good place to pee, Delroy took his PPK from inside his shirt and racked it. By the time he was in the trees, Cassie was pulling up her jeans. Kim was still squatting. He walked up and shot Cassie first. She fell without making a sound. But now Kim was screaming to bust a lung. Delroy shot her and she stopped. He made sure neither one had ID on her and dragged their bodies into the bushes.

A marshal brought Carol and Boyd to Nichols’s office, rapped on the glass door, stepped aside, and Boyd saw Raylan stasawl: lang="ending by the desk, Raylan coming around it now, looking right at them.

Boyd said, “You knew we were seein him.”

“I didn’t,” Carol said, “really. It was someone else who called, both times.”

“I’m not talkin to him,” Boyd said. “I got nothin to say on the matter hasn’t been written in reports. Far as I’m concerned the case is closed tight.”

Carol said, “Try to control yourself, all right?”

The door opened and she was saying to Ray1an, “Well, isn’t this a surprise, my old bodyguard.”

I ’ve always enjoyed watching you,” Carol said. “Even when you were showing off and shot one of my employees… It wasn’t in the head but in the hair? I asked Boyd, ‘He’s so accurate he can do that?’ Boyd said, ‘He wanted ’em dead they be dead.’ ”

They took the two chairs facing the desk, Boyd gripping the arms of his, staring at Raylan sitting at the desk now holding forth. Boyd saw him waiting to try some new approach and said, “What’re you gonna pull on us this time?”

“Tell me if I have it straight,” Raylan said. “You shot Otis while he’s firing a twelve-gauge at you.”

Boyd took his time. Did he shoot Otis? No, goddamn it, but said, “Yes, I did.”

“You hit him and he fired in the air.”

“I believe so, yes.”

“How many times?”

“Did he shoot? I don’t know, a couple.”

“Racked the shotgun and tried twice, after you hit him in the chest from fairly close.”

Boyd paused, thinking of how he’d told it to the sheriff’s people. “See, Otis was firing before I shot him. After I hit him, I guess he only got off one more.”

“You thought he might hit you?”

“Jesus Christ,” Boyd said, “you ever been shot at? I give you the benefit of knowin you don’t stop and think, you’re returning fire.”

“You hit him,” Rahiturning firylan said, “and he fired in the air. But you say he was shootin at you before you put him down.”

“Startin to,” Boyd said.

“But didn’t hit the trailer you’re standin in front of. Where you suppose his shot went?”

“I don’t know,” Boyd said. “We both shootin at each other… I try to see what happened now, man, it’s all gunfire…”

“You know what I think?” Raylan said to Boyd sitting straight in his chair. “The old man died with a loaded gun. He didn’t get off a shot. Carol told you to fire the shotgun and you fired up in the air or off somewhere in the dark. But not at the trailer.”

“We didn’t stop to wonder,” Carol said, “why Otis didn’t kill us. I close my eyes and I see him hurrying, he must’ve been afraid, but now he couldn’t back down. He began firing…” She paused and said, “There’s no possible way you can link Boyd to the old man’s death, other than obvious self-defense. The man fired a gun at us and somehow he missed, didn’t he?”

Raylan said, “That’s what you told the sheriff’s people and they took your word for it.”

“I think it’s obvious,” Carol said, “the old guy didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Except old boys I’ve talked to, hunted with Otis, said he don’t miss with his shotgun.”

“Well, he did that night,” Carol said and told him, “No one’s perfect, Raylan. Not you or Otis or his buddies. Otis is in heaven, with his old pals from the deep mines. Coal miners get old and die from being coal miners.”

“But while they’re alive,” Raylan said, “they have a right to be alive.”

T he only conversation in the elevator was Boyd saying, “The man won’t let go of it, will he?”

They were out of the building, crossing to the parking lot before Carol spoke. “There’s simply no way he can prove you shot Otis.”

Boyd said, “ I didn’t shoot Otis. You did.”

She said, “What’s the difference? You’re standing there watching.”

Boyd paid for parking and got behind the wheel, surprised to see Carol in back. Coming here she’d sat next to him, less she was reaming somebody out as Miss Company, but never raising her voice. Sg hdth="1em" he still hadn’t given him nothin to do in his new job, head of Disagreements.

Boyd said, “You afraid I caught leprosy from bein in the marshals’ office?”

“I’m trying to recall,” Carol said, “when I told you to empty the shotgun, where you fired.”

“In the air. You saw me. I didn’t hear you tell me to hit the trailer.”

She couldn’t deny it. After a few moments she said, “I’m not going to any more interrogations. You know we were being recorded? No, you didn’t. They have all your stammering. You can act surprised and stammer a little, but only when you know what you’re going to say.”

“You happen to notice,” Boyd said, “I put the spent shells by Otis, for realism?”

Boyd saw her smile in the mirror. He believed she liked his carefree attitude, long as he didn’t take it too far. She was almost a nice person when things pleased her. When they didn’t, he’d see her gettin pissed off at him for some picayune thing and come near firing him. He didn’t think she’d try to blame Otis on him, knowing he’d turn around and drag her in. She’d be busy in court instead of doin her regular job, makin people’s lives miserable.

What he needed was a threat to hang over her head. Keep her from doing something nasty to him.

Boyd was wondering, Could he get Raylan to side with him without snitchin on Carol? Remind him of walking picket lines together, seein eye to eye when it came to coal companies fuckin over miners? Say to Raylan it was getting hard to work for Carol. Hell, it was like working for Duke Power again. Remember those days we stood up together? Say this working for Carol was tearing him apart.