Raylan_ A Novel - Elmore Leonard [41]
He turned to the car and the man came out ducking his head and Raylan was looking at his hairpiece shaped for life.
“Mr. Pervis Crowe,” Casper said.
There he was, wearing a suitcoat with wide lapels and a tie and his toupee. Now he was an old friend? Pervis took hold of Raylan’s hand saying, “They’s matters we disagreed on, but I always saw you as a man. Even tellin about my boys stealin kidneys. You kept bein yourself, not puttin on how smart you are.”
Raylan said, “I’m sorry about your boys.”
Pervis held up his hand. “I let ’em become nitwits. They had plenty time to straighten out, so I’m not takin blame. I swear I couldn’t stand to have ’em around.”
“I get Pervis here for the day,” Casper said. “Tomorrow he has to be home—Rita’s coming. She visits every two weeks—set your watch by it.”
Raylan glanced at Pervis listening, not seeming to mind.
“She puts on her maid’s outfit,” Casper said, “and her and Pervis play house all day.”
Raylan looked at Pervis. “You mind him tellin your business?”
“He talks, he sounds like a woman. Everybody knows she lived with me for years. I set her up.” Pervis said, “Rita’s the smartest dealer in the state.”
“All I’m tryin to do,” Casper said to Raylan, “is show my good buddy how to get rich.”
“I got enough,” Pervis said, “without sellin any my properties.”
Carol was getting out of the car now.
Raylan watched her come out telling Casper, “I’m not here to make Mr. Crowe an offer. I’ve told you that. My job is to hear complaints and work out disagreements. Listen to what miners have against the company that’s giving them jobs.”
Casper was grinning. “Honey, we know each other, we been across the table. You’re gonna set all your girlish devices on poor Mr. Crowe and get him to sell.”
“You mind my asking,” Raylan said, “what you all are talking about?”
“Big Black Mountain,” Casper said, “the highest peak in the state of Kentucky, and Pervis owns it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Once they were inside the school, people in the hall turning to look at them, Raylan leaned close to her saying, “I wondered what you were doing in the car. You changed your pants.”
Carol said, “You’re the only one noticed.”
“I know the difference between linen slacks and forty-nine-dollar Levi’s.”
The folded pair she’d brought along; they fit her snug. Raylan kept this observation to himself, but then the Devil made him say, “A tear across one of the knees is popular.”
“You can be annoying,” Carol said, “but I’m not letting you go. I want you at the side of the stage where I can see you. I’m going to use you, Raylan, the most popular guy here with all your celebrity. I’m going to make a point that comes close to home.”
“I was a miner at one time,” Raylan said, “and live to tell about it?”
“Wait for my questions,” Carol said.
In the gym, Carol got up from her chair next to Casper Mott’s, gave his shoulder a pat and walked up to the mike, its stand in the middle of the movable stage at the far end of the Redskin gym. She looked out at three hundred folding chairs all occupied, signs sticking up in the crowd; unemployed miners in clean shirts and dirty baseball caps outnumbering the ones with jobs three to one, maybe more, their wives waiting to have a say.
She glanced to her right, where Winona sat at her stenotype machine. Carol had listened to Casper reading the names of court reporters. He came to Winona’s, mentioning she was Raylan’s ex, and Carol said get her for the meeting, whatever she wants. Casper asked should he bill M-T, and Carol said, “I would.”
To Carol’s left, Raylan stood where he’d mount the stage if he had to. While she was still seated Carol had watched him looking at Winona, trying to catch her eye. But she couldn’t tell if he did without turning around.
Beyond Raylan, off to the side of the crowd, Boyd was talking a mile a minute to a girl