Raylan_ A Novel - Elmore Leonard [11]
“I shot rats when I was a kid,” Raylan said. “Chase ’em out of the shithouses.” He said to Coover, “All you have to do is go out’n the kitchen, huh?”
Coover squinted at him. “Where I know you?”
“They’re marshals,” Dickie said, “him and the Negress.”
Coover looked toward Cuba. “Set up those lawn chairs—they someplace—we can sit down and talk.” He said to Raylan, “You can ask am I growin reefer and I’ll tell you no. But first I ask you any God damn thing I want. How’s that sound?”
“I only have one question,” Raylan said. “How’d you and your brother get in the kidney business?”
Rachel stood by the Audi watching Raylan, Raylan the show. Watched him facing Coover holding the bright-metal piece at his leg. Watched Coover swing the rat by the tail and let it go and saw it coming at her to land on the hood of the Audi. Rachel didn’t move. Raylan didn’t either, didn’t glance around.
But said, “Coover, you throw a dead rat at my car. What’re you trying to tell me?”
Rachel unsnapped the holster riding on her hip.
Coover said, “Take it any way you want, long as you know I’m serious.”
“You’re telling me you’re a mean son of a bitch,” Raylan said to his face. “You know how many wanted felons have given me that look? I say a thousand I know I’m low. Some turn ugly as I snap on the cuffs; they’re too late. Some others, I swear, even try to draw down on me. All I’m asking, how’d you come to take Angel’s kidneys?”
Dickie looked at Cuba and Raylan said, “I asked him the same thing. He told me talk to you.”
Cuba said, “You see what the man’s doin? I told him I have nothin to do with kidneys ’cept eat ’em.”
Coover was squinting at him now. “I want to know what you told him.”
“Listen to you,” Cuba said. “You ask me that? Get it in your stone head, I have nothin to say to this man.”
Raylan hearing a new Cuba Franks, one he hadn’t met.
He said, “Cuba, I got you on tape telling me talk to the Crowes.”
“You the one say you want to talk to ’em. I told you go ahead, I’m not stoppin you.”
“I know you were at the motel,” Raylan said, “but you didn’t show yourself to Angel, like these mutts. All I want is the doctor’s name. Coover can get back to shooting rats, you can do what you want, till tomorrow.”
“You come in a man’s home,” Dickie said, “don’t even have a warrant and talk like that?”
“I’m making it easy,” Raylan said. “You want, I’ll put you before a grand jury. Give us the doctor or do time.”
Dickie said, “Coove, you hear him? He’s threatenin us.”
“He’s got a piece under his coat,” Coover said.
Dickie said, “You got one in your hand, for Christ sake.”
Raylan turned enough to look at Rachel.
“You hear these bozos?”
“I sure do.”
“Coover raises his piece, shoot him.”
“If you’ll move a step either way,” Rachel said.
He did, saying, “I’ll tend to Dickie.”
“Hey, come on,” Dickie said, raising his hands. “I ain’t even packin.”
“Here’s my offer,” Raylan said. “Give me the doctor or I’m back tomorrow with the warrants you want. You and your brother, once the court sees how dumb you are, might draw only forty months. Cuba’s done time but still up to no good. He’s looking at two hundred months on top the forty.”
Cuba said, “You want to tell me what I done?”
Raylan said, “It’ll be on the warrant,” and looked at Coover. “What’s the rat killer want to do? I bet the weed’s telling you things, huh? If you can believe weed.” Raylan turned to look at Dickie again. “So we’ll see y’all tomorrow?”
Rachel had her Glock in both hands, covering the scene.
Raylan, coming out to the Audi, kept his eyes on her. She let him get in and start the car before she opened the door.
“You tried to give him the idea,” Rachel said, “short of kickin him in the crotch.”
“He wasn’t up to it,” Raylan said. “Stoned, what he’ll tell his brother.”
“But what if he raised his piece?”
“You’d of shot him,” Raylan said.
They drove out of the yard Raylan saying, “They’re gonna run and hide.” He paused. “Or get in touch with the doctor. The Crowes, Coover’s a chronic stoner. Dickie—”
“He don’t want to get his hands dirty,” Rachel said.
“Dickie’s the