Dark Sky (Joe Pickett #21)(66)

Soledad ignored him. He turned to Cyndy and Zenda. “Do you girls need a ride back into town or do you want to crash here tonight?”

Zenda’s eyes flashed. “Is this your idea of a party? One drink and we break it up?”

Soledad didn’t answer her. And he didn’t feign concern, something Wagy had gotten used to.

“You can walk back for all I care,” Soledad said to her. “I’ve got some urgent business that just came up that I need to attend to.”

To Wagy, Soledad said, “We’re done here. Romanowski has fucked up our operation and I’m six birds short of my goal. There’s no way I’m going to take that flight to Dubai six birds short.”

Wagy shook his head. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I need six birds to fill my order and I know who has them. It’s time this creaky old badass got taken down a peg, you know? He has no idea who he’s messing with.

“He should be pretty easy to find,” Soledad said. “It’s not like the old days when he operated off the grid. Now he’s a legitimate American businessman. He pays his taxes to fund the gangster government. Shit, he advertises. It’ll be like nothing getting the birds I need.”

“Will you at least drop me off at the ER on the way there?” Wagy asked.

Soledad said, “No can do. That would give away the game.”

Then he seemed to notice that both Cyndy and Zenda were glaring at him. Cyndy had her hands on her extra-wide hips.

“Are you still here?” he asked them. His eyes were so cold Wagy felt a chill just being near him.

“My partner’s turned into a liability,” Soledad said to them. “Maybe you two can help me load some cargo into my vehicle so we can blow this joint. I’ll help him out in a minute and meet you in the barn.”

“We didn’t come here to work,” Cyndy said.

“Then you’re a liability, too,” Soledad said.

Wagy watched as Cyndy and Zenda looked at each other for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Finally, Cyndy said, “What kind of cargo?”

“Falcons in cages. They’re not that heavy and they won’t bite.”

“I suppose we can,” Cyndy said. “But then we want a ride into town. This night has really turned into a bummer.”

“I’ll meet you in the barn,” Soledad said. When they didn’t move, he pointed toward the back door through the kitchen. “I’ll be right out,” he said.

Reluctantly, Cyndy and Zenda shuffled out of the house.

When the back door slammed shut, Soledad turned back to Wagy.

“Can you walk?”

“I can try.”

“Here,” he said, getting up and putting his beer aside. “I’ll help you get to your feet. Then you can lean on me to get out to the car.”

Soledad walked around the couch until he was in back of him. Wagy felt Soledad’s hands slide behind his shoulders until they were under his armpits.

“Ready?” Soledad asked.

“Ready.”

As Wagy took a breath against the inevitable agony of standing up, Soledad’s hands disappeared. They reappeared an instant later, with Soledad cupping Wagy’s chin with his right hand and grasping the surface of his forehead with the other.

The crunch sounded and felt like a muffled thunderclap and that was it.

Just like a pigeon.





TWENTY-ONE


An hour later, Earl Thomas surveyed a large clearing that glowed light blue on the snow from the moon and stars. He’d paused his horse and grunted as he dismounted and stepped heavily to the ground.

“Got to piss,” he said to his sons as they caught up with him. Brad pulled up on his right and Kirby on his left. One of the horses in Brad’s string blew its nose and whinnied.

Earl relieved himself between his boots and the odor of warm urine splashing on cold rocks was sharp. He turned his head away.

After burning the cabin to the ground, they’d been riding west down the mountain along a small and intermittent creek bed clogged with round rocks. They’d followed the two sets of tracks left by Joe and Price through the heavy timber and it had been a difficult journey. While the two men they pursued were on foot and could climb over downed timber and dodge through closely packed tree trunks, the caravan of horses weren’t as nimble and it had slowed them down.

Finally, though, the timber cleared and the trees became more widely spaced. The tracks they’d followed were clear in the snow until they veered out of the forest to the tiny stream. Then, because the smooth rocks in the creek didn’t capture the snow the way the grass and pine needle cover had, the tracks had become harder to follow. Earl assumed Joe would keep to the creek as he went west, and eventually down out of the mountains to the foothills, but for the last fifteen minutes he’d detected no sign that confirmed it.

Earl could also tell that the morning was going to dawn much warmer than the day and night before. He could tell by how it felt on his exposed skin and by the fact that the condensation clouds from the nostrils of his horse were getting harder to see. The sky was clear and the stars were hard. Soon, he knew, the sun would rise and melt the dusting of snow that covered the ground.

Keeping right on the tracks of Joe and Price would get harder by the hour.