Элмор Леонард – Out of Sight / Вне поля зрения (страница 8)

Karen said, “Glenn?”

His head turned and she was looking at his designer shades[140], small oval lenses in a gold wire frame.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

She watched him hesitate, uncertain.

He said, “It couldn’t have been out at Glades, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was never out there.”

Karen shook her head.

He raised his hand to stroke his hair away from his face.

“But you’re sure we’ve met, huh?”

“A couple of times.”

“Is that right? Where?”

“Last fall,” Karen said, “I drove you from the Palm Beach county jail to the federal courthouse, twice. You’re Glenn Michaels. I never forget anyone I’ve cuffed and shackled[141].”

He didn’t move or say a word, staring at her now like he’d been turned to stone.

Karen said, “Let’s think for a minute, Glenn, see if we can work this out. Is there a gun in the car?”

Foley had his head down, chin on his chest, fingers working at a button caked with muck. Buddy, watching him, said, “If you want to do that – here.” He laid the shotgun in the grass, came up to take the guard shirt in his two hands and ripped it open, popping buttons and tearing the shirt. He wiped his hands on his khaki pants as Foley threw the shirt in the bushes, picked up the raincoat and put it on.

“Why you brought Glenn,” Foley said, “I’ll never know. He wants something. It’s the only reason he’s here. He gets picked up doing one of his cars,[142] he’ll make a deal and give us up.”

“He talks too much, that’s all.”

“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t know why, but every time he opens his mouth I want to punch him out.”

“He ain’t the problem, Jack.”

“Look. I couldn’t leave her in the trunk. And that’s all I can tell you.”

“Then tell me why you want to bring her.”

Buddy waited.

“You gonna tell me?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Foley said.

She touched his arm and said, “Glenn, don’t think, okay?” Knowing that’s what he was trying to do. She said, “Just listen. You’re in a tough spot,[143] but I think I can help you.”

He said, “Hey, wait a minute …” but didn’t know what to say after that. She asked him again if there was a gun in the car. The way she put it this time, “Do we have a gun in the car?” We.

Like they were together in this. He remembered her voice now from before, riding in the GM C[144] van. She had a nice voice and never raised it. He remembered you could bullshit with her about different things, this girl no older than he was. She said his name again.

She said, “Glenn, Foley’s not going to make it[145]. You said yourself he can’t think straight. And if he goes down[146]… Glenn, you go with him.” She touched his shoulder and he jumped. She said, “I can understand if you and Foley are close…”

“We’re not. I’m helping him, yeah…”

She stopped him.

“Wait. Have you helped him, Glenn? At this point, technically, I doubt you could be charged with aiding a fugitive. So you still have a choice.” She said, “You can help him and risk going down again, get cuffed and shackled, hope to God you pull a reasonable judge, not some hard-on[147]. Or, if you want to play it another way…”

She paused and Glenn said, “How?”

“All the time we’re in the trunk,” Foley said, “we’re talking, we’re getting along, you might say.”

Buddy said, “Jesus Christ,” turning his head, as if he didn’t want to hear it.

“Listen to me, all right? I kept wondering if she and I had met, you know, under normal circumstances like at a cocktail lounge …” He stopped, running out of words, Buddy staring at him again.

“You want to take her up to my place,” Buddy said, “and get cleaned up? You come out of the bathroom with your aftershave on and she goes, “Oh, I had you all wrong[148]?”

“I want to talk to her again, that’s all.”

Buddy kept staring at him.

“You’re too late, Jack. You’re what you are, clean or dirty. The best either of us can do is look at nice pretty girls and think, well, if we had done it different…”

Foley began to say – he wasn’t sure what, something; repeat himself, not wanting to give up? He heard Glenn start the car and looked over to see the headlights pop on.

“He wants to go,” Buddy said, “get out of here, and I don’t blame him.”

They walked toward the car.

Then stopped and watched as it took off, tires squealing as the rubber hit pavement. They watched the taillights until they were out of sight down the turnpike, neither of them saying a word.

Chapter Eight

At Good Samaritan[149] they told Karen she was lucky, all she had was a concussion, but they’d keep her here till tomorrow, do a few more tests to make sure.

Her dad came here with newspapers and magazines to watch over his little girl. When Daniel Burdon, FBI special agent, arrived he asked her dad to please wait outside, they had some business to do here. He had in his hand a copy of the statement Karen had dictated to a court reporter that morning.

It was mid-afternoon now, sunny outside, the private room pleasant enough, flowers brought by her colleagues arranged on the window-sill.

Burdon asked her, “ Tell me how you got the bump on your head. You tried to grab the wheel – where was this?”

“Coming to the Okeechobee exit. I wanted to get to a phone and thought of the tollbooth. We went off the exit ramp, down the grade and I guess hit the abutment.”

“Must not’ve had your seat belt on.”

“No, but I did think about it,” Karen said, “once I was in the front seat. I climbed over…”

She swung her leg over the seat in the tight skirt and told Glenn not to look. Actually told him that, Don’t look. And smiled for just a moment remembering it. Burdon was frowning at her. She said, “Glenn had it up to a hundred[150] and, blowing past cars… I don’t mean when we went off the road. As soon as I saw the exit and grabbed the wheel, he hit the brakes. We were going about fifty when we went off.”

“When he had it up to speed,” Burden said, “where was he going in such a hurry?”

“He didn’t know, he was running, getting away. I tried to talk to him. I said, “Look, if you come in with me you’ll be okay. You haven’t really done anything yet.”

Burdon said, “Hadn’t done anything? The man conspired to aid a fugitive and he’s driving a stolen car.”

“I told him not to worry about the car. Forty thousand cars stolen last year in Bade County, three thousand arrests and half of them never went to court.”

Burdon said, “It sounds like you’re aiding and abetting[151].”

“I wanted to bring him in.”

“After you piled up, you didn’t see him?”

“The next thing I knew, the paramedics were taking me out of the car.”

“And nobody else saw him,” Burdon said, “that we know of. There a couple of points I keep wondering about have to do with the two guys that grabbed you. Buddy is it? And this fella Jack Foley. I looked him up, I swear the man must’ve robbed two hundred banks in his time.”

Karen said, “Really?” Impressed, but sounding tired.

“I asked him how many, he said he wasn’t sure. He’s been doing it since he was eighteen.”

“You talked to him, uh?”

“In the trunk, yeah.”

“What’d you talk about?”