Raylan_ A Novel - Elmore Leonard [67]
Boyd said, “Like ‘I’m sorry I killed your hubby’?”
“You want me to fire you? Say that again.”
They stared at each other, Boyd coming close to saying it. Or tell her she can’t fire you, you quit. What he said was, “You know you ended a sentence with a preposition? You said, ‘She’s here in a nursing home we’re payin for.’ ”
“Caught being ungrammatical.” Carol staring at his serious face. “How should I have said it?”
“She’s here in a nursing home,” Boyd said, “for which we’re payin the costs.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Nichols got hold of Raylan and they responded to the scene in horse country: thoroughbreds grazing the pastures while the bodies of two girls shot to death lay in a thicket of trees.
“A guy driving past,” Nichols said, “saw crows swarming into the trees. He knew something was dead, stopped to look and got in touch with police. They had it posted: look for Kim and Cassie, who’d skipped when we went to pick ’em up. That fast, while Jane’s safe in custody.”
They were looking at the bodies now—cops standing around—looking at clothes torn from parts of their bodies and their faces pecked to the bone by a murder of crows. “They still have their teeth,” Nichols said, “but no eyes. You notice? I bet they were dark. No ID on either one.”
An evidence tech watching them said, “We’re lucky we got here before the coyotes. Be nothing left but bones.”
Raylan stooped over one of the girls and the evidence tech told him not to touch their clothes. “That blood can give you HIV positive, you get it on you.” Raylan picked up the girl’s hand, a phone number in black marker witten on the palm, before it was smudged with blood.
He said to Nichols, “She did have your phone number.”
“She hung up on us,” Nichols said. “I’m surprised she wrote it down.”
“But no second thoughts about calling you,” Raylan said. “She had, she might still be alive.” He stood up and thanked the cops standing around for securing the scene and told them the two girls were Kim and Cassie. “I don’t know their last names. You might have them on file for prostitution. I believe they were exotic dancers before they became bank robbers. I thank you for helping us out.”
One of the officers said, “Detectives are coming out from downtown. You guys beat ’em to it. You want to wait and talk to the guys? They’ll be working this one.”
“I think we ought to pick up the shooter, you understand, before he knows we’re on to him?”
The cop said, “You know who it is?”
Raylan said, “Yes, we do,” and told them, “Delroy Lewis.”
The cop said, “You can’t identify the bodies, but you know who they are and who killed them.”
“We’ve got another one of his bank robber girls. She told us about him,” Raylan said. “Thanks, fellas, I’ll be in touch,” and walked away with Nichols.
“What if it isn’t Delroy,” Nichols said, “but some other mutt?”
“It’s Delroy,” Raylan said. “I can see him running a gang of girl bank robbers. Making money, maybe surprised it works. Surprises everybody.”
“What’s his buddy say—he happens to have one—‘The girls go down, you go with them’?”
“Delroy says, ‘What girls? I don’t have no girls. Man, I stay far afield. Maybe get the girls a limo for the bank job.’ ”
“He’s showin off.”
“Showin how cool he is. That’s the guy. A limo, everybody knows is his. He takes a few risks,” Raylan said, “but I can’t see him cutting lines in the car. That’s Jane making it sound hip. I bet he doesn’t go near those girls till it’s dark out.”
“One of his girls gets arrested, why wouldn’t she tell on him?”
“Jane did, and he blew it, pretending to be white instead of soothing her. ‘Don’t worry, baby, I’m gettin you a lawyer gonna have your case thrown outta court.’ He moves someplace else and gets three more girls, gives ’em pills, tells them anything he wants and they believe him. He doesn’t beat on the girls, he gives them a slap and then sweet-talks them. They get picked up, he says, ‘Kim and Cassie? I believe I remember those girls, my exotic dancers at the club. What is it they doin now?’ We’ll start looking