Elmore Leonard - Maximum Bob

“I’m not opening any mail,” Bob Gibbs said.

Looking to get a laugh, maybe beginning to like the attention. Kathy wasn’t sure. Or he was feeling no pain, all he had to drink.

“We’ll check your mail,” McKenna said, “and most likely put a wire on your phone, here and at court.”

An evidence tech came out from the living room holding up a glass that rattled as he shook it. He said, “Sheriff, four.22 longs,” placing the glass on the table. “They went through two of the cupboard doors and were in the wall, inside.”

McKenna said to Gibbs, “Is that how many you heard, four shots?”

“I believe so.”

Gibbs looked over and Kathy hesitated. She said, “There were five, but only four hit the window.”

That got them looking at her again, McKenna saying, “You sure?”

“I heard five.”

“From how far away, would you guess?”

“Somewhere in the back part of the yard.”

“Were the shots hurried or evenly spaced?”

Kathy paused. She could hear the rifle shots and saw the window again, a glass pane shattering and a glimpse of someone or something in that part of a moment. Thinking she should tell them. But what did she see? She was certain of the five shots, evenly spaced. Tell them that. But now Gibbs was talking.

“Ms. Baker was pretty scared, as you can imagine. I believe I threw her down and might’ve been a little rough.” Looking right at her as he said it with a grin, her hero. Listen to him. He said, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

There was nothing she could say to him, nothing , in front of these people. He was finished with her anyway, looking at McKenna now.

“You want to put TAC on me, huh?”

“I’m gonna insist on it, Big.”

“I guess if you have to.”

Lou Falco came in saying, “Five.22 casings, out by the pump house. The guy fired from less than fifty meters and broke a window, if that tells you anything. You can check the casings for latents, but I doubt you’ll get any prints. They were in the mud where it’s damp there. The guy walked all over them.”

“We have a place to start,” McKenna said, getting up as the sheriff rose from the table. “How do you want to handle security here?”

“Four outside and two in the house,” Falco said.

“That’s what I need,” Gibbs said, “some boarders. Lou, how much can I charge you?”

Every one of them, Kathy noticed, smiled or laughed out loud in deference to this asshole who happened to be a judge. Even Gary, though he didn’t give it much. She saw the detective who had gone to call the Belle Glade station coming out on the porch.

He said, “Sheriff, Dale Crowe Senior’s in the hospital. He was at a dance in Clewiston the other night, got in a fight and some guy broke his jaw.” The detective telling it with a grin. “No one’s seen Dale Junior yet.”

Sheriff Gene Givens started to walk away. He stopped and said, “I seem to recall old Dale has an artificial leg.”

“Got bit by a gator,” McKenna said. “Gangrene set in and they had to take it off at the knee.”

Sheriff Gene Givens said, “I guess my question is, how’s a one-legged man do the Texas Two-Step?” He seemed about to leave again.

Kathy watched him as the boys on the porch all had another good laugh. Gene Givens turned and looked back at the hole in the screen, stared at it for several moments before telling everyone present, “The connection with the alligator is what’s gonna solve this case.”

It made an impression on Kathy, the man not saying much, but then making that point. She believed it herself, a feeling she had.

They were all leaving the porch now, going outside or into the house, all except Gary Hammond. As soon as he was standing by himself he came over to her.

“Something I was wondering about. What were you doing outside?”

“Looking at flowers.”

“In the dark?”

“You think it was my idea?”

He said, “Well, it must’ve been pretty frightening, getting shot at.”

Kathy nodded, looking up at him from the lawn chair. “It was, but I don’t think he was shooting at us.”

“That’s what the judge said. Why didn’t you back him up?”

“No one asked me.”

“You were in front of the window, the light was on…”

“No, we weren’t even that close to it. How could he see us? He’s way back in the trees.”

“Why shoot at the house?”

“Why put an alligator in the yard? You heard Givens, he thinks there’s a connection. I’ll tell you one thing, no, two,” Kathy said. “Gibbs didn’t throw me down, he froze. And I didn’t come to see him about Dale. He called, said he wanted to talk about his wife. She’s supposed to be in Orlando, but I don’t believe it.”

“Why would he want to talk to you about his wife?”

“He uses it as a way… What he wants is to go to bed with me. It’s the only reason.”

Gary said, “Oh,” giving that one some thought. “You mean he says things like his wife doesn’t understand him? They don’t get along?”

“Yeah, only there’s more to it. She thinks she’s a little black girl who died a long time ago.” Gary was giving her a funny look. “Or the little girl speaks through Leanne and it drives the judge crazy.”

“I heard her,” Gary said, “the little girl. I heard her voice. We were standing in the yard…”

“Come on, you did? What’d she say?”

Gary hesitated but kept looking at her. “We could have a lot to talk about.”

Kathy said, “I think so,” with the feeling, now this one was using the judge’s wife as an excuse. She hoped so.

He said, “You want to have a drink somewhere?”

She said, “You mind if I ask, are you married?”

He looked surprised. “No, I’m not.”

“You have kids?”

“I’ve never been married.”

She thought of asking why not, but said, “Okay, where?”

Something about when he was in the judge’s house bothered Elvin, sipping bourbon at the Polo Lounge as he retraced each step of the way in and out. The hell was it? Taking a big sip as he remembered, Jesus , the pizza box, and started coughing.

Now something else was bothering him. A little girl with curly blond hair and big seashell earrings next to him at the bar saying, “What’s wrong, sugar?” and patting him on the back. Elvin recovered, took another sip and it went down okay. But now the curly-haired girl was saying, “I haven’t seen you before. You with TAC, working undercover? I love your getup.” Elvin looked at her with the pizza box on his mind and told her to hit the road. She said, “Well, pardon me all to hell,” and slid off the stool.

Two more Jim Beams and the pizza box was nothing to worry about. Only a matter of seeing how others would look at it, cops going in the kitchen, what would they see? An empty pizza box sitting on the counter was all. If the shooter was outside he couldn’t have put it there. By now one of the cops had most likely thrown it in the trash. That out of the way, Elvin wished the cops luck in getting the son of a bitch who’d done the shooting.

Under its other name this place had been popular with cops and Elvin, looking around, believed still was. Cops and guys throwing darts at three boards out in the front part of the room where you came in. The cops were the ones in the suits and ties, dinks from the Sheriff’s Office that wasn’t too far from here. It made Elvin think of his brother Roland’s suits he’d stored in a trunk with mothballs. Maybe he ought to get them out. There were girls liked you looking spiffy and ones that went for the mean and dirty style of dress. Like the little curly-haired blonde or she wouldn’t have come over when he started coughing before.