Heads You Lose - Lisa Lutz [14]
“I just need to grab something from inside. Be right back,” Lito said.
Paul waited in the truck, listening to the rhythm of the brothers’ argument. After a while it stopped, and then took a violent turn, like someone had bumped the volume knob. One of them was shouting at the other now. Somewhere in there, Paul thought he heard the word “Darryl.” Then he thought he must have imagined it. No more daytime smoking, he told himself, recalling his morning with Rafael. He had no intention of playing private investigator, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how Darryl’s watch and the headless body got introduced to each other.
Lito came jogging out, still shaking his head but not smiling anymore. “Man, get me out of here,” he said as he climbed into the truck.
“So what was that all about?” Paul asked.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Paul couldn’t argue with that.
He was glad to give Lito the ride because it gave him a legitimate excuse to drive by the rest stop to see if there were any signs that the body had been found. He’d made Lacey swear she wouldn’t go anywhere near it, but hey, their top seller needed a ride—what could he do? As they passed the rest stop, Paul looked over casually, hoping for police tape and a couple of cruisers. Instead there was just an idling truck and a family at a park bench. Where was Sheriff Ed when you needed him? Probably intimidating some high school kids.
For a second as they drove past, Paul thought he caught a whiff of the body from all the way across the highway. Okay, he thought, definitely no more daytime smoking.
Mercer Airport looked more like a driving range, or an airstrip with a snack bar. A row of small, rusty hangars off to one side completed the picture. As the maintenance guy, Lito mostly had to keep weeds from overtaking the runway and replace burned-out runway lights. A large middle-aged woman named Wanda handled all the pilot communications and “air-traffic control” (a running joke, since there were at most only a few takeoffs and landings each day).
She was smoking a cigarette outside the radio booth.
“What’s up, Wanda?” Paul asked.
“Nothing, unless you count Doc Holland selling me his Cessna for two grand.” She sounded pleased but hardly excited. It wasn’t the first time she’d taken a plane off the hands of someone who was leaving the area in a hurry. She’d either resell them or keep them around for parts. Diabetes had forced her to quit flying, but she still liked to tinker.
A small plane buzzed toward them in the distance.
“Who’s that?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know yet,” said Wanda. “He wasn’t in the log, but I cleared him. I guess we’re about to find out.”
Paul watched the plane’s three blue lights teetering down against a blotchy sunset. The sky was clouding up. Tomorrow would be a burn day.
“Maybe it’s the new doctor?” Lito offered.
Then the plane blew apart like a firework, and burning pieces of it started raining down all over Mercer Airport.
NOTES:
Lisa,
How’s that for a bang?
Dave
Dave,
Wow. I wasn’t expecting such a literal interpretation, but I appreciate the intent. I’m assuming that you have a plan for explaining the explosion, so I’ll try not to step on that in my chapter.
At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about all this assisted-living stuff, but I’m warming to it. It could broaden our potential demographic, and you’ve certainly increased our suspect pool.
No offense, but I say no to the road trip. Let’s keep in mind, we’re writing a crime novel here. I think we’ve already got plenty of local color.
I’m surprised you’d even suggest a road trip after what happened on our last one.
Lisa
CHAPTER 5
News of the plane crash tore through Mercer. Exactly twenty minutes after the fire was extinguished, Wanda was on the phone disseminating the news throughout the town. A plane crash will cause a stir almost anywhere, but in a place like Mercer it drew residents to the site like zombies to fresh brains. The Tarpit emptied in the time it takes to microwave popcorn. The only person not following the smoke plume was Lacey.