Last Man Standing

37

When he returned to East Winds, Web checked in with Romano and then went to the carriage house and eased into a hot bath. A catnap while he was soaking and he’d be as good as new, he figured. He’d gotten by on a lot less sleep over the years.

Romano had seen Web’s fresh wounds and his comment had been predictable.

“You let somebody beat the crap out of you again? You’re giving HRT a bad name, Web.”

Web had told him that next time he’d make sure he was beaten in places that didn’t show.

For the next several days, his and Romano’s routine was just that—routine. When Gwen and Billy had seen his injuries from the encounter with Big F, Gwen exclaimed, “My God, are you all right?”

“Looks like old Boo kicked you in the face,” commented Billy as he sucked on an unlit cigarette.

“Actually, I would have preferred Boo,” replied Web.

Gwen had insisted on putting some medicine on Web’s cuts. Her fingers felt very nice against his skin. As she tended to him, Billy had said, “Never a dull moment for you federal types, I guess.”

“I guess,” replied Web.

He and Romano got to know the Canfields better and saw how much work it took to run a farm. As promised, they both pitched in, although Romano bitched and complained every evening to Web about it. East Winds was vast and wondrous, and Web actually started to feel that maybe he should try something else for a living. He figured those feelings would disappear as soon as he left East Winds permanently. Gwen Canfield was an interesting woman, fascinating in many ways and as intelligent and reserved as she was beautiful and mannered. She and Billy were like the proverbial fire and ice.

Web had ridden with her every day, as much to protect her as to understand the lay of the land better. And, he had to admit, there were far worse ways to spend one’s time than riding around a beautiful place with a beautiful woman. She had stopped and prayed at the chapel each day and Web had sat on Boo and watched her. She never invited him to join her and he never suggested that he should. The fact that David Canfield had died on his watch was enough reason for him to keep his distance around the woman.

Each evening the FBI agents had gone to the large house and spent time with them. Billy had led a fascinating life and loved to share stories from it. Each time Nemo Strait had attended and Web found he had more in common with the ex-Marine than he would have thought. Strait had done a lot in his life, everything from soldiering to bronco busting.

“Live by my brains and my brawn, though I seem to have less of both as time goes by.”

“We’re sort of in the same boat,” said Web. “You see yourself doing the horse thing until you drop?”

“Well, I have to say I think about the day I walk away from all the manure and ornery animals.” He glanced at the Canfields, lowered his voice and added, grinning, “I’m talking about the two- and four-legged varieties.” In a normal tone he said, “But like I said, it gets in your blood. Some days I see myself getting my own little spread and running it right.”

“Nice dream,” said Romano. “Some days I want to have my own NASCAR team.”

Web looked at his partner. “I didn’t know that, Paulie.”

“Hey, a guy’s got to have some secrets.”

“You got that right,” said Strait. “My ex told me once that she never knew what I was thinking. You know what I told her? I told her that was the difference between men and women. Women tell you exactly what they think of you. Men just hold it in.” He glanced over at Billy Canfield, who was across the large room examining his stuffed grizzly and downing his third beer in the last half hour. Gwen had gone upstairs to check on dinner. “Although sometimes the reverse is true, you know,” said Strait.

Web looked at Canfield and then back at Strait. “Is that right?”

What was becoming more apparent also was that Gwen and Billy spent a lot of time apart. Web never directly asked Gwen about this, but her occasional comments made it seem as though that was more Billy’s choice than Gwen’s. The blame game over David, perhaps, thought Web.

And despite what Gwen had suggested earlier, it was also clear that Nemo Strait was an integral part of the operation at East Winds. Several times Web had seen Billy turn to the foreman for a definitive answer on matters related to the horses or the running of the farm.

“Been doing this since I was a baby,” Strait told Web once. “Ain’t much I haven’t seen when it comes to horses and farms and such. But Billy, he’s picking it up fast.”

“And Gwen?”

“She knows more than Billy, but she’s sort of set in her ways too. Been trying to put a soft shoe on Baron because that animal has got some brittle hooves, but she won’t have no part of it. ‘I know my horse,’ she tells me. Stubborn. Probably one of the reasons Billy married her.”

“One of them, anyway,” said Web.

Strait sighed. “You got that right, she’s a looker. But you know what, lookers make a man’s life miserable. Know why? ’Cause some other guy’s always trying to take her away. My ex wouldn’t of won no beauty contests on her best day, but hell, I didn’t sit around worrying about some other fox in the chicken coop either.”

“Billy doesn’t seem worried about that.”

“Fellow’s hard to read sometimes. But he’s a thinker, all right. A lot going on in that old head of his.”

“That one I agree with,” replied Web.

Web had been in contact with Bates every day, but nothing, as yet, had come through on the surveillance tape.

Early one morning, Web had just got out of the shower when his phone rang. He reached over and snagged it off the toilet. It was Claire Daniels.

“Have you thought any more about the hypnosis?”

“Look, Claire, I’m on a job.”

“Web, if you really want to make some progress, then I feel hypnosis is the key.”

“Nobody is looking around in my head.”

She persisted. “We can start and if you’re uncomfortable in any way, we’ll stop. Fair enough?”

“Claire, I’m busy. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Web, you came to me for help. I’m doing my best to help you, but I need your cooperation. Trust me, you’ve been through a lot worse than anything hypnosis will throw at you.”

“Right. Sorry, no sell.”

She paused and then said, “Listen, Web, I met with someone that you might want to know about.”

He didn’t answer.

“Buck Winters? Name ring a bell?”

“What did he want?”

“You signed a release that allowed him to ask me about your treatment. Do you remember doing that?”

“I guess. I signed a lot of papers around that time.”

“I’m sure. They really took advantage of you.”

“What did he want and what did you tell him?”

“Well, there was a big difference between the two. He tried to make a convincing case for why I should tell him everything, but the release form gave me enough wiggle room to stall him. I’ll probably hear about it later, but that’s just the way it goes.”

He thought about this for a few seconds. “You stuck out your neck for me, Claire. I appreciate that.”

“But that’s one of the reasons I’m calling you. Winters seemed dead set on nailing you to the wall on what happened. He even used the word ‘traitor.’”

“That’s actually not such a big surprise. Buck and I haven’t really seen eye to eye since Waco.”

“But if we can get to the root of your issues, Web, and show him and everyone else very clearly that you’re not a traitor, well, I can’t see how that would be a bad thing. Can you?”

Web sighed. He didn’t want to waive on this, but Web also didn’t want people to have doubts about him forever. He didn’t want to have doubts about his ability to do his job at HRT. “Do you really think the hypnosis will help?”

“We won’t know, Web, until we try. But I’ve had great success with hypnosis in other patients.”

He finally said, “Okay, maybe we can talk about this some more. Face to face.”

“Here at my office?”

“I’m on an assignment.”

“Can I come to where you are?”

Web thought about this. Did he really want to do this? The smart thing would be to tell Claire Daniels to go to hell and get on with his life. The problem with that was, he had never really gotten the help he was now coming to believe he actually needed. At some point he would have to pay the piper. And he was coming to understand that Claire really did want to help him. “I’ll send somebody for you.”

“Who?”

“His name’s Romano, Paul Romano. He’s HRT. Don’t tell him anything, okay, because sometimes he’s got a big mouth.”

“Fine, Web. Where are you?”

“You’ll see, Doc. You’ll see.”

“I’m free in about an hour. Do you need more time?”

“That’s plenty of time.”

Web dried off, dressed, found Romano and told him what he wanted him to do.

“Who is the woman?” he asked suspiciously. “Is this your shrink?”

“They like to be called psychiatrists.”

“I’m not your chauffeur. I’m on a job, Web.”

“Paulie, come on. I want to check in with Billy and Gwen. And you’ve been carrying the full load out here, let me take it for a while. If you leave now, she’ll be ready to go by the time you get there.”

“And what if something goes down while I’m gone?”

“Then I’ll handle it.”

“And what if you get popped?”

“What, you worrying about me all of a sudden?”

“No, I don’t want to get my butt in a ringer over it. I got a family to think of.”

“You mean Angie will kill you.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Look, just do it and I swear to you I’ll be grafted to the Canfields’ souls until you get back.”

Romano didn’t look happy about it, but he finally agreed and got Claire’s name and address from Web. “But listen up: The real reason I’m doing this is so I can go get my own wheels.”

“You mean the ’Vette?”

“Yeah, I mean the ’Vette. I bet Billy would love to see it, him and me being automotive aficionados.”

“Just go, Paulie, before I throw up.”

Romano had told him that the Canfields were at the main house, so Web jogged up there and knocked on the door. An older woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and wearing a brightly colored bandanna answered the door and escorted him back to the small sunlit breakfast area off the kitchen where Gwen and Billy were eating.

Gwen rose and said, “Would you like some coffee or something to eat?”

Web accepted some coffee, eggs and toast. “Romano and I were patrolling the place the other night and saw some interesting activity going on next door,” he said.

Gwen and Billy exchanged glances and Billy said, “At the Southern Belle? Damn right it’s interesting.”

“So you’ve seen some things too?”

“Billy,” said Gwen, “you have no proof.”

“Proof of what?” asked Web quickly.

“Maybe I ain’t got any proof, but I got my common sense,” said Billy, “and the goings-on over there make about as much sense with running a horse farm as me running a convent.”

“So what have you seen?”

“You tell me first.”

Web did so and Billy acknowledged that all of it jived with what he had seen. “See, what gets me,” said Billy, “are the semis. Now, I was in trucking for twenty years, and you only use those over-the-road rigs to haul some serious cargo long distances.”

“Have any of the other neighbors complained?” asked Web.

He shook his head. “I’m by far the closest one they got. The place on the other side, the owners are at their home in Naples or their other one in Nantucket. They just bought the farm so they can ride when they want to. Can you imagine that, shell out eight million dollars for nine hundred acres just so you can ride twice a year? What, the dumb shits never heard of a stable?” He shook his head and continued, “And the trucks only come and go at night. A little tricky, driving those beasts in the dark on these narrow windy roads. It’s not like we have streetlights out here. And there’s something else.”

Web perked up. “What’s that?”

“Remember I told you that a company had bought the place?”

“Right.”

“Well, a while back, after all the planes and choppers and such, I went over to the courthouse and did a little digging. The company— it’s an LLC, by the way, a limited liability company—is owned by two gents from California. Harvey and Giles Ransome, I guess they’re brothers, or maybe they’re married, you know, being from California and all.” He shook his head.

“You know anything about them?”

“Nope. But you’re the detective, figured you could dig something up fast if you wanted to.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“I invited them over once I found out their names. Walked right over there and everything.”

“What happened?”

“This time their people thanked me real polite-like but said they weren’t in. Said they’d pass along the invite. Yeah, right! And I’m a Chinaman.”

Gwen poured herself another cup of coffee. She had on jeans, a light brown pullover sweater and low-heeled boots. Before returning to her seat, she pinned up her hair and revealed a very long neck that for a few moments Web found he couldn’t take his eyes off of. She sat back down and looked anxiously back and forth at the two men before coming to rest her gaze on Web.

“What do you think it might be, Web?”

“I’ve got my suspicions, but that’s all they are.”

Billy eyed him keenly as he took a last bite of toast and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You’re thinking it’s maybe the mafioso running stolen goods or something. Believe me, that crap went on in the trucking business. If I had a dollar for every I-talian come through my door with a suitcase full of money in exchange for hauling their stuff in my trucks, well, I wouldn’t need to be working my ass off on this farm.”

“God,” said Gwen, as she pounded the table with her hand, “we leave Richmond to get away from murderous white supremacists and move next door to a bunch of criminals.” She stood, went over to the sink and stared out the window.

Billy said, “Look here, Gwen, whoever is next to us, it don’t matter in our lives, okay? They do their thing and we do ours. If they got something illegal, it’s not our problem, ’cause Web is gonna bust ’em, okay? We’re running a horse farm, just like you wanted. Okay?”

She turned and looked at him anxiously. “But not what you wanted?”

He grinned. “Oh, sure. Hell, I even kind of like mucking the stalls.” He glanced at Web for a moment. “Pushing manure is sort of therapeutic.” To Web, the man didn’t look like he meant it. Billy looked away and said, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Web glanced over at the doorway and saw Nemo Strait standing there, his Stetson in his hands. He was staring at Billy and his features were a little unkind, it seemed to Web.

Billy said, “Y’all ready to go?”

“Yes, sir, just come up to let you know before we hit the road.” They all went outside and down to the main road, where Web saw a caravan of ten horse trailers, some bumper-pulled, others fifth wheels hooked to heavy-duty trucks, and each emblazoned with the East Winds logo.

“Most of those are brand-new trailers,” said Billy. “Cost a damn fortune ’cause we had to customize some, but I guess you got to look good, at least that’s what folks keep telling me. Ain’t that right, Nemo?”

“If you say so, Billy.”

Billy pointed to the trailers. “Now, those three are custom fab three-horse slant loads.” He continued pointing. “Then we got two Sundowner Pro Stock MPs, a straight-load gooseneck with horse dressing room, a ten-foot Townsmand bumper pull with young Bobby Lee all by his lonesome inside, two Sunlite 760s and that big-ass one over there.” He pointed to the last trailer, an elaborate-looking contraption that resembled more of a people coach than one for horses. “Now, that’s the little jewel in this group, though it sure ain’t little. That’s a Classic Coach Silverado. Living compartment for the boys in front, tack space and other equipment and such in the middle and then space for two horses in the back. It’s a beaut. All self-contained.”

“Where are they heading?” asked Web.

“Kentucky,” answered Gwen. “They have a big yearling sale up there.” She pointed to the trailers. “These are our best yearlings, nineteen of them in all.”

She sounded a little sad, thought Web. Maybe for her it was like more children going away.

Billy said, “This is what separates the men from the boys. This sale goes well, we have a good year. I normally go too, but the FBI has persuaded me otherwise.” He shot a glance at Web. “So if the sales aren’t like they should be, I guess you guys can make up the difference.”

“That’s not my call,” said Web.

Billy shook his head. “Yeah, I bet. Those bastard buyers pick the horses apart and lowball us, then we’re selling pencils on the sidewalk. Now, these yearlings are some of our best ever. But those folks will hem and haw and find every little flaw they can, and then try to buy ’em for pennies on a dollar, and next thing you know, they got the next Secretariat. Well, that’s not going to happen. I been down that road before. You haul their asses back here, Strait, if they don’t fetch the reserves I gave you. Screw ’em.”

Nemo nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Web watched as Gwen went over to one of the smaller trailers and looked inside it.

“That’s Bobby Lee,” said Billy, pointing to the horse inside the trailer Gwen was looking at. “Now, if things go right, that horse will bring us a nice little bundle. He’s special, so he doesn’t have to share his ride with another horse. Damn, wish I had me a deal like that. That’s my problem, too many people around.”

Web wondered whom, if anyone, the man was referring to. “How come you don’t keep the horses and race them yourself?” asked Web.

“It takes mountains of money to raise and maintain Thorough-breds for racing, that’s why the most successful farms are run by corporations and syndicates primarily. They have lots of capital behind them, so they can weather bad times. We can’t compete with that. East Winds is a breeding farm and that’s all we really want to be. Believe me, that’s a big enough pain in the ass. Ain’t that right, Gwen?”

She said nothing and moved away when Web went over to Bobby Lee and looked inside the Townsmand ten-foot trailer. The rear windows of the trailer were open and Web could see the horse inside, starting with the top of his bushy tail. Strait came over and stood next to him.

“Hate to see Bobby Lee go, he’s a good horse. Fifteen hands already, beautiful chestnut coat, glossy, damn impressive musculature, look at that chest, and he’s got a lot of growing left to do.”

“He is a nice-looking animal.” Web looked at the heavy-duty equipment boxes welded on the interior walls of the horse trailer.

“What are those for?”

Strait opened the trailer and went inside, coaxing Bobby Lee over to the side. He opened one of the boxes. “Horses are worse than women when it comes to traveling.” He grinned and stepped aside. Inside the box Web saw halters and bridles and blankets and every other piece of equipment a horse might need.

Strait ran his hand along the soft rubber that lined the outside of the boxes. “We pad the sides so the horse doesn’t hurt itself against the edges.”

“Not a lot of room for error,” Web said as Strait closed up the box.

“There’s a lot of little details that might not seem so obvious to nonhorse folks. For example, you riding with a single horse in a two-staller, you got to keep the animal on the driver’s side so the extra weight don’t keep pulling you to the side of the road. These trailers are real versatile. All the dividers swing out and you can reconfigure them. Keep a mare in the back and the foal up front, for example.” He tapped the walls. “Galvaneal metal, and that lasts a lot longer than people.” He pointed to the long, open space directly in front of the horse. “And up here is their feeding and water trough. And over there”—he pointed to the door on the side—“is the escape hatch if you got to get the horse out fast and don’t want to get kicked in the process.”

“Where’s the TV?”

Strait laughed. “Tell me about it. I wished I traveled half as good as these animals, although I tell you, with the Silverado over there, we’re going to be living in style now. Even got its own toilet and kitchen, so no more Porta Pottis and fast food for yours truly. Billy really outdid himself with that one, and me and the boys sure appreciate it.”

Web looked at the roof of the trailer. Bobby Lee’s head was close to it.

Strait was watching him and smiled. “Bobby Lee is a big yearling and we can’t make the roof any higher.”

“How come?”

“Give horses enough room, they’ll take advantage of it. Hell, I watched one horse that didn’t like to be trailered do a backward somersault, if you can believe it, and jump out the rear onto the highway, where he got hit by a truck. It wasn’t a pretty sight and almost cost me my job. That’s why horses are situated facing the front of the trailer, or else they’ll try and jump right out. And we got a side access door and side ramp on all the trailers so you can take the horses out frontways if there’s an emergency. It’s faster, and you try taking a frightened horse out from the back on a highway, you might just get your head handed to you if it decides to kick. See what I mean?”

“Gotcha.”

“Yep, they’re complicated machines. Sort of like my ex-wife.” Strait laughed again.

Web fanned the air in front of his nose. “Boy, these trailers get pretty ripe.”

“Huh,” said Strait as he patted Bobby Lee’s neck, came back out and secured the trailer latch, “just wait until that horse has been in there a few hours, then you’ll really smell something. Now, dogs love the smell of horse manure, but humans don’t. I guess that’s why we’re called civilized. That’s why we replaced the aluminum floors with wooden ones, they drain better; and also why we spread the sawdust on the floors. You just sweep it clean, manure and all. Better than the straw.”

They left Bobby Lee and went back over to Billy.

“Now, you got all the trailer stickers for state inspection and the horse papers?” asked Billy.

“Yes, sir.” Strait looked at Web. “You cross state lines with a bunch of animals, the police stop you at random, and they ain’t gonna let you go one step farther until they check your commercial license and the horse’s vet certificates and such. They’re worried about spreading equine diseases and such.”

“And who can blame them?” said Gwen as she rejoined them.

“No, ma’am,” said Strait. He tipped his hat. “Well, here’s to making East Winds some big bucks.”

Strait climbed in one of the trucks and Web and the Canfields watched as the caravan of trailers started up and passed down the main road and out of East Winds. Web glanced over at Gwen, who looked very upset. Billy walked back up to the house.

“You okay?” he asked her.

“I’m as okay as I’m ever going to be, Web.” She crossed her arms over her chest and walked off, away from the house.

Web just stood there, looking at husband and wife going their separate ways.