Page 19 of Killjoy (Buchanan-Renard 3)

  “Hi there,” one of them called out. Another tried to whistle, but he couldn’t get his lips to work. Spit sprayed out of his mouth instead.

  Two of the boys were obviously brothers, for they looked alike and sported identical eagle tattoos on their forearms. The oldest-looking one of the group had a scraggly goatee and a pierced eyebrow with a silver ring.

  “The store’s closed,” Kenny shouted.

  “No, it ain’t,” Goatee said. “You let them in,” he added, pointing to Avery and John Paul. “We only want some beer.”

  “Yeah, beer,” one of the brothers parroted.

  They staggered toward the cooler against the back wall. One of them tripped into a display of cans and sent them careening everywhere. Goatee thought that was hilarious.

  Kenny wasn’t amused. He looked as if he wanted to kill someone. “You pick up every damned one of them cans and put them back like I had them. You hear me?”

  A brother snickered while Goatee gave Kenny the finger.

  “Get the hell out of my store,” Kenny bellowed. He turned his wrath on Avery next. “If you ain’t gonna use my facilities, and you ain’t gonna buy nothin’, then maybe you folks ought to leave.”

  “What about phone calls?” she asked, sounding as desperate as she was feeling. “Have you gotten any calls for me?”

  “No.”

  One of the brothers was standing about three feet away from Avery and was fixated on her as he swayed on his feet. His stare was unnerving.

  “Stop staring at me.”

  He grinned stupidly at her, then lunged with both arms outstretched with the obvious intent of hugging her.

  John Paul was about to pull Avery into his side, but she was already moving. She lashed out at the drunk with a kick that was quick and effortless. Her foot struck him square in the stomach and sent him flying into the wall. He hit with a loud thud, slid down, and landed on his butt.

  She pointed a finger at him. “You stay there.”

  And still the stupid grin remained on the drunk’s face. He was too far gone to feel any pain.

  She turned her attention to Kenny again. “May I use your phone?” Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Goatee and the other brother coming around the corner. Each of them had two six-packs of beer and a bag of ice. She didn’t mince words. “Over there, both of you. Sit down next to your friend and be quiet until I’m finished.”

  Goatee shook his head. “You can’t tell me what to do, sweet cakes.”

  “We don’t have a phone,” Kenny muttered at the very same time.

  “Sure you do,” John Paul asserted as he stepped toward Kenny.

  “What happened, Mark?” the other brother asked.

  Goatee strode forward, thinking he could elbow his way between Avery and John Paul.

  “My turn,” John Paul drawled a scant second before he sent Goatee sailing headfirst into the wall. He dropped the beer and the ice on top of Mark, then fell down next to him.

  They didn’t have to tell the third drunk to join his friends. He staggered over, put the beer down, and sat. Leaning back, he opened one can and took a long swallow.

  Kenny realized John Paul was looking at the phone on the counter. “What I meant to say is that we got a phone. Of course we do, but it ain’t workin’. Line’s down and it takes weeks and weeks to get a repairman to come all this way. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re sittin’ out in the middle of nowhere.” He was talking so fast the words were tripping over each other.

  Kenny could see John Paul wasn’t buying it, and so he turned to Avery. The phony smile was back. “Your mister have a problem?” As he continued to smile at Avery, he slowly reached underneath the counter.

  He looked down and too late realized he never should have taken his eyes off John Paul. He heard a click and jerked up to find the barrel of John Paul’s gun pointed at his forehead.

  “Now hold on. No need for that,” Kenny stammered.

  “John Paul, we need this man’s cooperation,” Avery said.

  “And this is how we get it,” he replied. “Kenny, turn around and put your hands on the wall behind you. Avery, get his gun from under the counter.”

  She walked around the counter and immediately spotted the Magnum on the shelf underneath. She slowly picked it up and then checked it. The weapon was loaded and ready. She engaged the safety, noticed a box of cartridges, and grabbed that too. She put both in a plastic sack with a picture of a squirrel on it.

  “What are you doing with a Magnum? Do you have a permit?” she asked Kenny.

  “That’s none of your damn, nosy business.”

  The good-old-boy façade was gone now. True colors were finally spewing out. Kenny’s face twisted with rage as he snarled, “I can refuse service to anybody I want to, and if I want to keep a loaded gun on the premises, then that’s what I’m gonna do. Can I turn around now? I’m getting a crick in my neck. You can use the phone. I was just . . . worried you was gonna make a long-distance call, and my cousin George, he’s the man who owns this place, well, he would see the bill and then he’d say to me, ‘Kenny, you’re gonna pay for this.’?”

  “Where is George?” Avery asked.

  “He got hisself attacked by an old brown bear. He didn’t know she was there until he saw one of her cubs,” Kenny said. “Can I turn around now and put my hands down? You can see I’m cooperatin’ and you got hold of my gun.”

  “Yeah, sure,” John Paul said.

  Avery was heading for the phone when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a lady’s billfold sticking out between two sales slips in the trash can next to the cash register. She leaned down to pick it up. Then she caught her breath. It was a new, black Prada billfold. Carrie owned everything Prada made.

  Kenny was watching John Paul. “If you’re gonna rob me, you might as well know I don’t have much cash. Maybe two one-hundred-dollar bills and forty some in change.”

  “Where’d you get the hundred-dollar bills?” John Paul asked.

  “A customer.”

  “We didn’t come here to rob you,” Avery said. She opened the billfold, saw that it was empty, and held it up for John Paul to see. “I think this belongs to my aunt.”

  Kenny grabbed her from behind. He wrapped his big arms around her in a bear hug and lifted her up so he could use her as a shield. His arms were like bands of steel, but his chest was soft, almost mushy.

  “Let go of me,” she ordered. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Kenny was trying to duck down behind her so John Paul couldn’t get a clear shot. “Not till your mister puts that gun down.”

  John Paul was surprised Avery wasn’t frightened. If anything, he thought she looked put out. “That’s not gonna happen,” he said. “Avery, you’ll have to change your clothes.”

  That remark got her full attention. She stopped squirming and asked, “Why?”

  “Because I’m gonna get blood all over you when I blow this mother—”

  “No,” she said. “Kenny, I know this billfold belongs to my aunt, and I don’t care that you took the money. But you’re going to have to tell me where you got it. Now let go of me.”

  “No way,” he snarled close to her ear and tightened his hold.

  His fingers were interlocked around her waist. She took hold of one of his little fingers and jerked it back hard. At the same instant, she lowered her chin, then slammed the back of her head into his face. She heard a crunch as he gasped in pain and let go.

  “Ouch,” she whispered. Damn it, that hurt. She stepped away from Kenny and rubbed the back of her head as she walked over to John Paul. Not as simple as it looked in the movies, she thought. Lesson learned.

  She noticed the incredulous look on John Paul’s face. “What?” she asked.

  His smile was slow and easy. “Not bad.”

  She rolled her eyes in exasperation and looked at Kenny, who was leaning into the counter. “I need to know where you got that billfold.”

  “It belonged to my

wife, Chrystal. She got tired of it and tossed it in the trash.”

  “Stop lying. This is a matter of life or death,” she said, her voice hostile now. “I really don’t care if you took any money out of the billfold,” she repeated. “But I need to know where you got it.”

  “I just told you . . .”

  He wasn’t going to admit anthing. Avery’s initial panic had dissipated as soon as she’d spotted the billfold because now she knew she was in the right place. The tightness was still in her chest, however, and she was becoming infuriated over the man’s uncooperative attitude.

  Kenny’s nose was bleeding. He held a Kleenex against his nostril and squinted at her. “I’m gonna sue you, bitch. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

  “John Paul, I think you’re going to have to shoot him after all,” she said.

  Kenny didn’t seem worried until John Paul asked Avery, “How about the kneecap?”

  Fortunately, Kenny had become a true believer. “Okay, okay,” he said. “When we opened up this morning, me and Chrystal found a package with her name on it.” He pointed to Avery. “It was just sittin’ there on the counter, so Chrystal decided to have a look inside.”

  “And?” Avery prodded.

  “And it was just a red scarf. It had a perfume smell to it Chrystal didn’t care for, so she stuffed it back in the envelope and tossed it in the trash.”

  “How did you get the billfold?” she asked.

  “I was gettin’ to that,” he said, resentment brimming in his words. “A woman came in just a little bit ago. She held up a brand-new hundred-dollar bill in exchange for that package with the scarf, and we took it, of course. Then she grabbed another manila envelope from our shelf. Just helped herself to it. She turned around so we wouldn’t see what she was doin’ and put that billfold inside. After she sealed it, she wrote your name on it and told us she’d give us another hundred if we’d promise to tell you that she was gonna call and for you to stay here until she did.”

  “But you opened the envelope as soon as she left?” John Paul asked.

  “No, not that second. It nagged at Chrystal, though. She just had to have herself a peek inside, and when she saw the billfold filled with money, she helped herself. Anybody would’ve done the same thing.”

  Avery didn’t waste time arguing ethics with him. “What exactly did the woman with the hundred-dollar bills say?”

  “I already told you what she said.”

  “Tell her again,” John Paul ordered.

  “She’s gonna call you. That’s what she said. She told me she knew just about the time you folks would be coming into the store and said you was supposed to wait until she called.”

  “But you weren’t going to tell us any of that, were you?” John Paul said. “You were going to send us on our way and never mention the billfold or the woman.”

  Kenny didn’t answer. He shrugged and then said, “There wasn’t much money in the wallet. Just a bunch of twenty-dollar bills.”

  “Hardly worth getting your nose broken?” John Paul said.

  “Look, I should have told you, and now I’m sorry I didn’t,” Kenny said. “When my wife gets off the phone, I’m sure that lady will call. You’re just gonna have to wait.”

  “Where is your wife?” Avery asked.

  John Paul answered. “In the back office.”

  He grabbed her arm when she started in that direction. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

  She pulled away from him and hurried to the back of the store. “I’m not going to shoot anyone, John Paul.”

  “Be careful,” he ordered.

  She took the warning to heart. When she reached the swinging door, she slowly pushed it open and looked inside. A woman was sitting with her back to the door. She was bent over with the receiver to her ear as Avery quietly walked forward. She heard the woman say, “No, I want five of them. That’s right. Five. Now the last item is number A3491. The silver stereo with all them CD holders. I want eight of them. No, make it ten. That’s it, hon. Are you ready for my credit card number? What? Oh, my name’s Salvetti. Carolyn Salvetti. I’ll be using my American Express card to pay for all this merchandise, but I want them shipped to my Arkansas home.”

  Avery was furious. She came up behind the woman and snatched the phone from her hand. Chrystal lurched out of her chair, sending it crashing into the wall. “Who do you . . .” she sputtered.

  Keeping her eye on Chrystal, Avery spoke into the phone. “Cancel the order. She’s using a stolen credit card.”

  “No,” Chrystal shouted as Avery hung up the phone. “You got no right to come barging in here. No right at all. This is my private office. Now give me that phone back.”

  “You and Kenny are going to jail.”

  “Hold on there a minute. We didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

  Chrystal’s eyes were set a little too close together and her moon-shaped face was twisted in anger. Not pretty, Avery thought as she watched her step forward threateningly. Her brown eyes darted back and forth like a cornered rat’s as she considered her options. “There’s no reason to call the police.”

  The woman towered over Avery and outweighed her by a good sixty pounds. When a sudden gleam came into her eyes, Avery knew what she was thinking, that her size gave her the advantage.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Avery said.

  “This is private property,” Chrystal half shouted. And then she lunged.

  Avery didn’t need to defend herself. She simply stepped to the left and watched as the large woman fell on top of the desk. Her precious catalog ripped open and flew to the floor.

  What a klutz. “Behave yourself,” Avery scolded like a teacher disciplining a child with a harsh warning. “Now get up and go into the store. Move it,” she shouted when Chrystal didn’t move.

  Carrie’s driver’s license and all of her credit cards were on the desk, except the American Express card. She saw Chrystal slip the card into her pocket. “You just don’t give up, do you? Give me the damn card.”

  Chrystal threw it at her. Avery caught it in midair and then nodded toward the swinging door again.

  Chrystal shoved the door open and hurried ahead. She tried to push the door back in Avery’s face, but Avery used her foot to block it.

  “Bitch,” Chrystal growled. Then she saw Kenny and took her wrath out on him. “I told you we’d get into trouble, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

  John Paul slipped his gun into the back of his jeans and then looked at Avery, waiting for an explanation. She took a step closer to him as she said, “Chrystal was doing a little early Christmas shopping with my aunt’s American Express card.”

  “Aren’t they a pair?”

  “Yet another good reason I’m never going to get married,” she said.

  “I don’t see any need to get the police involved,” Chrystal muttered.

  “Who said anything about the police, Chrystal?” Kenny demanded. “Why’d you have to go and bring them into this?”

  “I didn’t, you old goat. Blondie did,” she added, pointing at Avery. “And all this is your fault, Kenny. If anyone’s gonna go back to jail, it’s gonna be you. I already got one strike against me. Didn’t I tell you you shouldn’t let me open that package? Didn’t I?” she screeched like an irate hen. “You made me do it.”

  “Shut your trap,” Kenny told her.

  Chrystal finally noticed her husband’s condition. He was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth while he held a torn Kleenex to his nose. She gave John Paul the once-over too. “Who’s he?” she demanded. “And why are you pickin’ at your nose?”

  “I ain’t pickin’ nothin’. That gal behind you broke my fuckin’ nose. I’m gonna get me a lawyer and sue her.”

  “From jail?” Chrystal bellowed. “You moron. You aren’t gonna sue nobody.”

  John Paul had about had it with the happy couple. He went to the front door and stood to the side looking out. The teenager who had been throwing up was now c

urled up on the porch sound asleep.

  “Stop arguing,” Avery demanded. She was a little surprised that Kenny and Chrystal actually obeyed her.

  “No reason to scream at us, missy. You can see we’re cooperatin’,” Chrystal said.

  “Fine. You’re cooperating. Where’s the envelope?”

  “You mean the one the billfold was in?” Chrystal asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I threw it in the trash by the facilities,” she said. “There was just the billfold, but I’ll get it for you so you can see for yourself.”

  She took her sweet time crossing the store and returned a minute later with the yellow envelope. Thrusting it at Avery, she said, “See. It’s empty.”

  Kenny’s nose had stopped bleeding, and he tossed the Kleenex toward the wastebasket behind him but missed. “I told you everything that gal said to me, but she was pretty chatty with Chrystal.”

  “That’s right. She sure was chatty. She told me you folks were goin’ on a treasure hunt. Kinda’ old to be playin’ games like that, aren’t ya?”

  Avery was close to pulling her hair out in frustration. These people were driving her crazy. “When she came in, did you see her car? Was there anyone waiting?”

  “Had a nice new Mercedes,” Kenny said. “But there wasn’t nobody inside it. Just the gal.”

  “Did she tell you where she was sending us?”

  Her obvious anxiety gave Chrystal a surge of power. She said snidely, “Depends.”

  “Depends on what?” Avery asked.

  Chrystal rubbed her fingers together, the universal sign for money. Avery didn’t have the patience to negotiate.

  “The woman left instructions too, but Kenny and me aren’t sayin’ another word until you make it worth our while.”

  “Okay, John Paul. We’re back to doing it your way. You may shoot one of them. That should get the other one talking.”

  He liked the way she thought. The gun was out, the safety off less than two seconds later.

  “Got a preference?” he asked.

  Chrystal put her hands up. “Hold on there. No need for violence. Kenny and me is peace-lovin’ folks, aren’t we, Kenny? We’ll tell you what you want to know. The woman said a gal would be comin’ in. Said the gal’s name was Avery.” Turning to her, she asked, “You’re her, aren’t ya? You got to be her.”