Mickey clutched at my arm, “No-no-no, you don’t understand. I know that boot.”
She was scared. I said, “Who is it?”
“It’s Mr. Meadows’ personal assistant, that Mr. Rakes.”
“Carl Rakes?”
“That’s him,” she shivered. “He was always staring at me. He reminds me of one of those creepy guys you see in those old black and white monster movies.”
Hondo said, “Were he and Bob friends?”
“No, but Bob would talk to Mr. Rakes when they were in the same room, sort of polite conversation.”
I indicated the picture, “Why would Bob be there with Rakes?”
Mickey said, “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to fit.”
Hunter said, “Figure out who that shadow belongs to and you might have an answer.”
Hunter’s cell phone rang and she answered it, then moved into the storeroom to talk. When she came out she said, “I need to run. There’s something extra they want me for at the LA office. Seems they want the conversation with the woman in Durango on tape.”
“Smuggling?” Hondo said.
“Sounds like it. Supposed to be something they’ve been trying to get a handle on for a while. They think this might be part of it.” She rose and said, “Later,” and went out the door.
We sat a few minutes mulling things over, then Hondo said, “I think we need to pay old Carl a visit, quiz him a little about this photo.”
Mickey clapped her hands together like an excited five year old, “Yes, I’m ready!”
I said, “Mickey, we’d better go this one alone.” Her smile fell and tears started forming. “No, no,” I said, “It’s just that we expect to find him in a strip club and we don’t want to expose you to that stuff. You can be more help away from places like that.”
She came over and hugged my neck, then went to Hondo and did the same. “You two are my heroes, for real. I’ll go now so you can do what you need to. Thank you, thank you so much.” She began to cry as she left and closed the door.
“Well,” Hondo said. “You always have a way with women, I’ll say that for you.”
“Mickey’s a man.”
“Not in her heart.”
I looked at the door. “You’re right,” I said.
**
I took the three Berettas from the storeroom and disabled the firing pins. We’d decided to give them back as a gesture, but I didn’t want to turn a meeting into the OK Corral if I could help it. Besides, our firing pins were working and I liked that edge. We grabbed some cokes since we hadn’t had a chance to eat and sipped on them while Hondo drove us in his Mercedes to The Caspian Diamond, figuring to start where I’d last seen Rakes. I started to take a sip and got a call on my cell phone. It was the repair shop and my truck was ready.
The body man said, “Never used so much Bond-O in my life. I coulda repaired the friggin’ Titanic there was so much.”
I said, “Are you going to charge me for the smart comments too, or just the repair work?”
“Hardy har-har, Baca. Pick it up when you’re ready. I’ll send you the bill so you don’t have a heart attack in my office.”
I told him I’d be by later to get it.
We were almost to the Diamond when Hondo said, “Talked to Archie this morning after I worked out. He said you drive Shamu to compensate for a small penis.”
I spit coke, “He said what? What does he think that Corvette of his stands for?”
“Arch said it’s an offshoot of his virility. He said it’s not a substitute but a natural occurrence, like a smile shows teeth. I think he’s right about that.”