Carl handed the glass to Bond and turned to Frank, “Dah, was finish.”
Bond said, “Frank, don’t piss your pants over this. Now’s not the time to get squeamish.” As Bond talked, she ran her fingernails across the front of Carl’s Speedo.
Frank didn’t even blink, “What I’m saying, suppose those assholes don’t quit, suppose the police find something? Then what?”
Carl rumbled, “Is not to vorry. I take care of this, for my pleasure.”
Frank said, “But-”
“No ‘But’, I take care. You do for what I say. Things vill be good.”
Bond rose from her chair went to Frank, bent over and kissed him. I pushed the joey’s ear out of the way and got a view of Bond’s thong. She might have been a bitch, but all those hours on the Stairmaster and doing pelvic thrusts had paid off. I had to strain to hear her words as she talked to Frank.
“Frank, baby, Carl hasn’t let us down yet, right?” Frank nodded and Bond continued, “Things will get better now that we’ve gotten past this little bump in the road. Besides, the police have to play by rules. We don’t.”
Carl said, “Dah, now to find shidmouth hair actor, then we go back to the business.”
Frank said, “What about Baca and Wells, and that other one, the Border Patrol woman?”
Bond snorted, “Frank, I fired them, remember? The woman’s only here for a few days and she’ll be gone. We’ll find Bob. Besides, Baca’s not that good.”
Not that good? What way did she mean that?
“He’s the kind that doesn’t work if he’s not getting paid. If he’d actually found Bob, we’d be through with this, but he couldn’t. I thought we had him going and he would put Landman in our hands. He sure bought the Poor Me angle.”
Frank said, “All I know is he pisses me off and he’s always turning up unexpected. But you’re right, he fell for your line of bullshit, didn’t he?” Frank toasted her with his glass.
“Yeah, piece of cake.” She cupped her breasts in her hands and said, “Just rubbed these on him a little bit and he only looked where I told him, till that Kincaid bitch showed up.” She frowned, downed her champagne, and held the glass out to Carl to refill. Bond continued, “I know this, a dead faggot cross dresser doesn’t mean anything to him, so that worry is gone.” She moved and sat to face Carl and Frank and her words were muffled. I caught some words and phrases, but nothing I could put together.
I leaned forward and pushed the joey’s ear further and it broke with a small, dry crack.
Carl sat up like a Doberman. I tried to push up the ear, but it didn’t stay. Joey was now flop eared.
Carl rose and walked toward the kangaroo as I scurried backward from the bush and headed out of there. I was twenty yards from the inside corner of the ten foot high rock wall when I heard Carl reach me.
“Hah, Baca, is you!” He grasped my shoulder and I turned with his pull and hit him right on the button as hard as I’ve ever hit anyone.
His head went back maybe three inches.
Ohhh shit.
Carl’s eyes glowed with heat. He snarled as he reached for me and I slapped his hand away and shot a punch for his throat, but he was quick and knew what he was doing and he slipped it. Behind him, I could see Frank and Bond racing for us.
I went low and kicked hard at the side of his knee and he buckled. I followed with a reverse back fist aimed for his temple but he ducked enough for it to catch his head a glancing blow.
It knocked him off balance and that was enough. I ran toward the rock wall with Carl springing up and running three strides behind me. Frank and Bond were twenty yards away and coming full tilt. I looked at a three-tiered fountain near the wall as I ran and a wild idea flashed in my head.
I cut towards it and leapt so my left foot landed on the lower tier and I pushed up so that my right foot landed on the top tier, and I jumped. The adrenaline pumped and I cleared the top of the wall without using my hands.
I hit the ground and rolled into a run while Carl screamed threats in his native tongue. As I put the wall behind me, I heard Bond chewing Carl out in Russian. I was in Shamu and driving away in seconds.
**
Hondo and Hunter were at the office and I told them what happened, reciting the bits and pieces of conversation I heard, then asking what they thought it might mean, what words would fill in the blanks.
Hunter said, “You don’t think Frank or Bond will report you to the police?”
Hondo said, “I doubt it. Ronny would have a chance to talk and might stir up the cops.”