And There He Kept Her (Ben Packard #1)(77)

Emmett’s back hurt from the rough ride and from sitting too long in the same position. He shifted in his seat, staring at the gap in the trees they’d come through. This pit didn’t get much use because the high sides all around made it too hard to get in and out of the water. It was the ideal place to dump something you didn’t want found.

The hydraulic arm buzzed as Carl lowered the front end of the boy’s car to the ground. He came back and opened the driver’s door. “You got your knife on you?”

“I do.”

“Come out here and cut the tires,” Carl said.

Emmett put on his hat and eased himself to the ground. It was cold enough that he could see his breath. He got a cracked thumbnail under the knife’s spine and pulled out the blade until it clicked. He stabbed the sidewall of the front tire, yanking the handle back and forth to widen the gash as he pulled out the knife. Same to the back tire. The water in the quarry smelled like iron and wet vegetation.

He walked between the trunk and the edge of the pit. Carl was waiting for him on the other side of the car.

He had a gun in his hand.

“I had some other thoughts today about our situation,” Carl said. “I’m not sure it’s in my best interest to let you keep calling the shots.”

“You dirty cocksucker. Put that gun away,” Emmett said. His sudden anger kept him from being as afraid as he should have been.

“I’m serious, Emmett. The cops are too fucking close. They were at your goddamn house today. They’re gonna get you for the girl in the basement, and when they see what you have built down there it won’t take long for them to find the bodies by the lake. The first chance you get to make a deal, you’ll turn on me for killing the Gherlick boy and the whore. If I kill you now, there’s no connection between us. No deal to be made.”

“You stupid sonofabitch. There’s a million connections between us. Your employees have seen us together. Your family has seen us together. The girl has seen you.”

“I’ll take care of her, too.”

Emmett bent over and stabbed the rear tire of the boy’s car like the gun pointed at him was meaningless in the face of the work still to be done. From the trunk came a whiff of rot. He stood upright, knife in hand like a weapon. “You better think some more. If I go missing right after the Gherlick kid is killed, it’s going to be too many fucking coincidences. They’ll start looking for my known associates. They’ll be at your door first.”

“They won’t find anything. I’ll play dumb.”

“You are dumb. There’s no playing about it. You think you can lie to the cops over and over? Your story will change before you finish telling it the first time.”

The gun in Carl’s hand started to drop as Emmett’s indifference to it ate away at his resolve. “Of the two of us, I’m the only one smart enough to keep the cops off our backs. They look at me and see an old man with chronic pain who lives in a shithole on the ass end of a mud lake. I’m a victim of that Gherlick boy. You poor old man. Living with all that pain and having your medication stolen. That lady cop carried my groceries to the front door and all but rubbed my goddamn feet she felt so sorry for me. If I go missing, then I stop being a victim of that Gherlick boy and become a victim of someone else. Someone connected to me who’s connected to the Gherlick boy who they’ve probably already connected to those kids. They’ll come for you, Carl. I’m the only one standing between you and that happening.”

Carl lowered the gun to his side. “You fat fuck. I don’t know if I should believe you and kill you anyway, or if I should let you live on the chance that what you say is true.”

“I can protect both of us but only if I’m alive to do so.”

“You won’t protect us,” Carl said. “You’ll protect yourself. I’m only safe as long as you are.”

Emmett didn’t bother denying it.

Carl put the gun in his coat pocket and looked lost now that his plan had changed. Emmett handed him the knife. “You get that last tire. I can’t bend over again. My fucking back.” He went around the front of the truck and got back in, stepping on a hunk of rock just high enough to give him the leverage he needed to make it the first time. Carl got in on his side, handed Emmett his knife, and lit a cigarette.

“How deep is this quarry?” Emmett asked.

“Probably about forty feet right below this wall.”

Emmett held the knife and wiped the blade on his pants. A thin twist of tire rubber was wrapped around the flipper. Carl put the wrecker in reverse and eased off the brake. He turned away from Emmett to look in his side mirror and check his alignment. Emmett saw the long line of Carl’s throat, the hair from his beard that covered his neck like vegetation, the cigarette pinched between his big lips.

Emmett twisted in his seat like he was trying to look out the back window, then leaned across the space between them and buried the knife in Carl’s neck to the bolster. It dragged against something that felt like cartilage on the way out, followed by a gush of blood that leaped at Emmett like a snake.

Carl stomped the brake and reached for his neck with both hands. The amount of blood running down his neck and into his shirt was shocking. It pulsed between his fingers with the force of his pumping heart. He made a wet sound in his throat like he was trying to gargle.