The Guilty (Will Robie 4)

He left the room and closed the door behind him. His father, he felt, had married a good person. A strong woman. He would need that. He would need all of that.

And that was when he remembered.

The sound from outside.

And then he heard something moving in the hall.

He turned in an instant, his weapon out and pointed at the new noise.

Jessica Reel was staring back at him, her gun in hand.

She said, “What’s up, besides you?”

“I heard a noise.”

“I did too. From outside.”

“Let’s go check it out.”

“I also thought I heard somebody crying. Did you?”

“It was Victoria. She just needed to talk to someone. This all has to be overwhelming.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“That we were going to find the truth. So let’s see if we can start with whoever’s outside.”

Chapter

52

THE SOUND WAS not repeated.

At least not right away.

But Robie and Reel were patient. They could sit for hours or days or weeks waiting for what needed to come along and be killed.

And finally their patience was rewarded.

The crack of a twig.

The flutter of leaves on a bush.

A breath released too quickly for concealment.

They converged in an instant, guns pointed at their prey.

“Don’t shoot. Sweet Jesus, please don’t shoot me.”

Pete Clancy put up his hands and dropped to his knees. He sat on his haunches, cowering.

Robie and Reel glanced at each other before lowering their weapons.

“What are you doing here, Pete?” asked Robie. “And where the hell have you been?”

Pete let his hands drop and stared up at them.

Composing himself, he said, “On the run, man. You know why.”

“Get up,” said Reel.

When he stood she patted him down and pulled out a short-bladed knife from his front pants pocket.

“What, no guns?” she said.

“I don’t actually like guns all that much,” said Pete in an embarrassed tone. “I just own ’em ’cause you’re supposed to down here.”

She put the knife in her jacket pocket and stepped back.

Robie said, “Who were the guys at your house?”

“Heard you killed ’em later on. In the woods.”

“Who’d you hear that from?”

Pete shrugged. “Somebody,” he mumbled. “Does it matter?”

“It may,” replied Robie. “But we’ll leave that for now. Who were the guys? Rebel Yell thugs?”

Pete looked confused by this. “Rebel Yell? The casino?”

Reel and Robie exchanged another glance.

“Yeah,” said Robie.

“Nope, it wasn’t them.”

Robie said, “Okay, if not them, who? And we know about the pictures on your computer. The man and the little kids?”

Pete looked startled at first but then nodded slowly. “How my old man made his money. Then he took that and made a lot more at the Rebel Yell.”

“So no oil and gas dollars for his land, then?” said Robie.

“He told me that was just a cover story.”

“Okay, one more time. The guys. Who are they?”

“I don’t know exactly. But you saw the pictures, right?”

“I told you we did,” said Robie irritably. “Who’s the guy in them?”

He said furtively, “Don’t know that either. Dad never said.”

“Where did the kids come from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is there a reason that all of the kids are either black or Latino?” asked Reel.

Pete exclaimed, “I don’t know! Okay? I came to all this late in the game.”

“Why would he tell you about any of this?” wondered Robie.

Pete snorted. “Why else? He was drunk off his ass.”

“But the guys obviously knew you had something. Why else would they have come around?”

Pete said nothing.

Robie said, “You showed up at your house with them. How did that happen?”

“They grabbed me when I was comin’ out of a bar.”

“And they brought you back to your house to get what you had on the computer,” said Reel. “How did they even know about that?”

Pete shrugged again.

Robie slammed him up against a tree.

“Shrugs don’t cut it, Pete,” snarled Robie. “And roundabout bullshit nonanswers don’t, either. They knew about it because you put the squeeze on them. In order to do that you had to have information. So, last time, who was the guy in the photo?”

When Pete didn’t say anything Robie put his gun against the man’s forehead.

“Last chance,” said Robie.

Pete snorted. “You ain’t shootin’ me. That’d be murder. Lock your ass up forever in a Mississippi prison.”

Reel said, “Robie, if that’s what you want to do, use this.” She pulled a suppressor from her pocket and tossed it to him. He caught it and spun it onto the barrel of his pistol.

Reel added, “We can cut him up and drop him in that swamp we passed earlier. No lungs to inflate, the body stays down. Then the gators can have him. What’s left of him. So go ahead and kill him. It’ll be light soon and we need time to dump the body.”

“You two are killers!” Pete exclaimed.

“Damn, you are a genius,” said Reel.

Robie put the suppressed muzzle against Pete’s forehead and his finger slipped to the trigger guard.

“Nelson Wendell,” a panicked Pete blurted out.

“And who exactly is Nelson Wendell?” asked Robie.

“Dude in the photo with the kids.”

“And?”

“And he was chairman of Coastal Energy. Coal, gas, oil, you name it. One of the richest men in Mississippi, hell, the whole south. You must’ve heard’a him.”

“No. But he likes kids?” said Reel.

“Guess so.”

“And how did your dad come by those pictures?”