Elmore Leonard - Out of Sight

"He ain't here."

"Well, where's he at?"

"He took the redhead down the hall," White Boy said.

And Foley thought, Here it comes.

Township and sheriff's radio cars stood along Vaughan Road, dull metal shapes in the dark, the sky overcast, unmarked cars against the snowbank, by the wall in front of the residence and blocking both ends of the circular drive. The detective from Robbery said, "Let me find out what's going on," and got out of the car. On the way here he had asked about the GCI prison break and that was pretty much what they'd talked about. The Robbery detective said he'd never heard of Jack Foley.

Karen was out of the car when he came back from the group standing by one of the sheriff's cars. He told her they were waiting for Inspector Cruz, he hadn't arrived yet. They walked to the nearer end of the circular drive and the Robbery detective pointed out the truck parked at the front entrance. He said they'd contacted the company and found out a truck was missing from their property and must have been stolen that evening.

Karen said, "It looks like the front door's open."

"It is," the detective said.

"A guy came out just a minute ago.

Got some boxes from the truck, went inside with them and kicked the door shut, but it didn't close all the way." Karen stared at the front entrance. The detective said, "Raymond should be here soon." He said,

"You want to smoke? It's okay here by the wall." Karen shook her head. He had trouble with his lighter, getting it to flame. He lit his cigarette finally, looked up and said, "Hey, where you going?"

Karen walked up the drive to the front entrance, right hand in her coat pocket gripping the Sig Sauer.38.

Foley saw it happening as he looked in the mirror and in a way it was like watching a movie:

"Kenneth's like a bullfrog: it moves, fuck it," Maurice said, turning this way and that to study his image, taking on a dead serious look then as he stopped and said to Buddy, "Man, what are you doing with that?"

Now Foley was looking at the snub-nose.38 in Buddy's hand, holding it on Maurice, Buddy saying, "You guys are bad, Snoop."

And Maurice saying, "You know bad these days, man, is good," as Buddy stepped in and hit him in the mouth with his left hand and Maurice stumbled against the mirror and stood there with his hand to his face, his eyes taking on a shrewd kind of look.

"Watch the Snoop," Buddy said, "while I go find Kenneth."

Foley brought the Beretta out of his overcoat, saw Maurice's gaze follow Buddy for a moment and come back to him, Maurice touching his bloody mouth as he looked at the gun. Taking off the suitcoat he said,

"Jack, you don't use a gun, do you?"

"Hardly ever."

"You nervous?"

"A little."

Maurice dropped the suitcoat on the floor and walked past Foley to the bed. Picking up his white coveralls he said, "This kind of setup, you don't have any idea what the fuck you're doing. Be honest with me-do you?"

"You're right," Foley said, extended the Beretta and shot him through the coveralls he was holding in front of him.

"So I thought, why take a chance," Foley said, and shot him again and saw the Snoop's bloody mouth and his eyes staring, glazing over, saw him drop the coveralls and heard them hit the carpeted floor, something heavy in one of the pockets, and saw the blood in the center of the Snoop's white sweatshirt. He watched him sit down on the bed, then fall back with his eyes open and stay that way. Foley got the Snoop's piece, another Beretta, from the coveralls and ran out of the room.

He saw Buddy near the end of the hall looking back this way, his arm raised now, waiting for him. He said, "Two-gun Foley.

What'd the Snoop do, pull on you?"

"He had it in mind," Foley said.

"Listen, Kenneth's gonna be ready if he isn't deaf."

"I'm gonna bang in there and shoot him," Buddy said.

"Something I've never done before, shoot anybody."

"You know he's got that shotgun."

"If you stand against the wall next to the door, reach over and turn the knob… You know what I mean?"

Foley slipped the pistol in his left hand into his coat pocket, put his back against the wall and looked at Buddy, standing now in front of the door. Foley's left hand reached for the knob.

He turned it. Buddy kicked the door, going in with it, and the shotgun blast blew him back into the hall-past Foley already moving into the doorway. He saw them bare, both sitting up in bed, Kenneth racking the pump gun, Midge turned away from him, gathering up the covers hanging off her side of the bed, and coming around to throw them like a net at Kenneth as the shotgun went off and the covers caught fire and Foley was pumping one two three shots into Kenneth somewhere under there.

Foley watched Midge, bare naked, jump up and drag the burning covers from the bed and saw Kenneth now, the bullet holes in his chest.

Foley knelt over Buddy in the hall, felt his throat for a pulse and said, "Shit." He looked up to see Midge-the woman not caring she was still naked, or maybe not even conscious of it standing over him.

"He's dead," Foley said.

She gave that a moment before asking, "Where's Alexander?"

"In the closet," Foley said, getting up.

"But stay here. One of them's still around."

Karen stood inside the open front door. She saw cardboard boxes lying in the foyer and a man on the staircase, a big guy with a gun in his hand. At the sound of the shots from upstairs he had stopped and now didn't seem to know what to do.

Karen kept her eyes on him, both of them waiting, listening.

She heard movement outside, hurried footsteps in the packed snow, and then silence, and then a voice calling to her, "Karen?"

She saw the guy on the staircase turn at the sound and saw Foley, in that moment, in the open part of the upstairs hallway, looking over the railing at her. She moved then, fast, to the foot of the stairs, put her Sig Sauer on the guy turned to her and said, "Police. Drop it or you're dead. Right now, drop it." She watched the guy stoop in a land of awkward way to lay his gun on the stairs. He looked scared to death. She said, "Now come down," and saw Foley, at the top of the stairs now, watching her.

He said, "That's White Boy Bob. Honest, that's what they call him. The other two are dead." He paused.

"So is Buddy."

Karen said, "Don't move."

She brought White Boy across the foyer to the open door, to the uniforms and detectives standing in the drive. She saw Raymond Cruz in the light from the coach lamps and said, "There's one more. Will you let me bring him out?"

Raymond hesitated.

"Why?"

"I know him."

"He's a friend?" Sounding surprised now.

"I know him," Karen said.

Foley had come down to stand where the staircase made its turn. As Karen crossed the foyer to the foot of the stairs she saw him pull his knit cap down over his face and now he was wearing a ski mask.

She said, "Come on, Jack-don't."

"Pretend I'm somebody else."

"You think I'd shoot you?"

Foley brought the pistols out of his pocket.

"If you don't, one of those guys will. I told you, I'm not going back."

They were in the foyer now, behind her, Raymond Cruz and a half-dozen others lined up, watching.

"What're you now," Karen said, "a desperado? Put the guns down."

He raised them hip-high and she heard sounds behind her and was quick to raise her hand, though she didn't turn or look around. Karen took her time now. She said, "Okay, Jack," with almost a sigh, brought up the Sig Sauer in one hand and fired and he fell to the staircase, dropping the guns, grabbing hold of his right thigh. She turned to Raymond saying, "Wait, okay?" and went up the staircase to where Foley was lying. She sat on a step and carefully, gently lifted the ski mask and looked at his sad eyes.