A Gambling Man (Archer #2)(16)

Callahan closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross.

“So about those discussions?” prompted Archer.

Howells took a look behind him, swallowed nervously, clutched the edge of the windscreen tightly, and said, “I can take the eighteen fifty as a start, but there’s got to be more down the road.”

“How exactly does that work?” asked Archer.

“When you get to where you’re going, and get yourself all set up, you send me a hundred dollars a month.”

Archer shook his head. “That’s steep. I might not even make that much.”

“Well, I’m a betting man, Archer, as you know, and I’m betting on you to do just fine out there in California.”

“But for how long do I make the monthly payments?”

“Oh, let’s say six years, and I like you so I’m not even going to charge you interest over that time.”

“Well, I’m starting to like you, too, so let’s say one year and I’ll allow you to continue not charging me interest.”

Howells said, “Three years, Archer. It’s still quite a steal for you. You’ll be driving this car as an old man.”

“Two years for a total of $4,250, and if I can pay it all off early, I will. You have my word.”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” screamed Callahan as more bullets whizzed by them.

“Okay, that’s a deal,” said Howells.

Archer eyed the mirror. “Great. Liberty, take your gun out of your purse.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to make it useful out here.” There was a sense of urgency in his voice that compelled Callahan to do just as he asked.

She held out the Smith & Wesson. “Now what? Do you want me to start shooting?”

“No. I need you to take the wheel.”

“What! How?”

“Put your hands on the wheel. I’ll slide under you and you go over me. I’ll keep my foot on the gas as long as I can. Soon as you’re in place, you mash it to the floor.”

“Archer, I don’t think I can do this.”

“I wouldn’t be asking unless I knew you could. And Bobby H can’t drive.”

“Oh, Lord help me.”

“The Lord helps those who help themselves,” interjected Howells in a knowing manner.

“Oh shut up, you old fool. You got us into this. And I doubt very seriously you of all people know anything about the Lord.”

Archer said, “Go up. Now.”

Callahan put her hands on the wheel, took a deep breath, then arched her back and slid to the right while Archer sunk low and edged to the left. A moment later Archer dropped into the middle of the seat and she into the driver’s. “Floor it,” he called out as he gripped the .38, turned around in the seat so he was facing backward, and lined up his shot through the revolver’s iron sights.

Archer turned to Callahan. “On the count of three start to ease off the gas until you get it down to around sixty.”

“But you said—”

“Just do it, Liberty!”

She gave him a sulky look and waited.

“One . . . two . . . three.”

The Delahaye slowed to a hundred and then eighty, and then stuck at sixty as Callahan eyed the speed gauge.

“We’re there,” she said.

The Buick was now catching up fast.

Archer aimed but didn’t fire.

Wait for it, wait for it . . .

He placed two quick shots into the grill and followed those with one each in the front tires. When he pulled the trigger again, the hammer banged empty. He was out of bullets. But he didn’t need any more.

Steam immediately started pouring out of the Buick’s radiator, covering the windshield in a thick fog. The blown-out front tires wobbled madly, and finally rubber separated from the metal rims, and the treads went spinning off into the darkness.

The Buick ended up crashed in a ditch while the Delahaye roared triumphantly on.

“Nice shooting there, Archer,” complimented Howells.

Archer sat forward in his seat and looked at Callahan. “You okay to drive?”

“Yes. But I’m sure as hell not going as fast as you did.”

“Okay, the three of us are staying together until the government building opens and we can get the title to the car transferred all official.”

“I got a room,” said Bobby H.

“And I’m sure those boys back there know it, too,” replied Archer. “So that’s out.”

“We can stay at my place,” said Callahan, drawing surprised looks from both men. “Well, it’s got two rooms. One of you can sleep on the couch, the other the floor. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

Howells looked at Archer with a pained expression. “I got me a real bad back, son. Real bad.”

“Of course you do,” said Archer as the Delahaye roared on.





THEY HAD TO GO UP THE FIRE ESCAPE to Callahan’s place because the landlady was, in Callahan’s words, “an old battle-ax determined not to let young women have any fun.” And that obviously included no men staying the night.

They had parked the car in a lean-to attached to a garage behind Callahan’s building. Archer had found a cover in the trunk and thrown that over the Delahaye.