Slash and Burn

Chapter 32

Falling back to a safe position, Larry Bolan took the loop road round the city of Denton, passing the CH Collins Football Stadium, while he considered his next move.

It didn’t take much debating: Joe Hunter must die in agony.

Resolute, he blinked at the scenery and realised he was now heading back west on University Drive towards Highway 35.

On his right was a burger joint — as good a place as any to stop. Not that he wanted food: he was looking for a payphone.

Pulling in, he checked out the other vehicles in the lot. There was a mix of cars and vans, but his Cadillac would stand out if left in the open. Sooner or later he would change the plates, but he was in no rush. He doubted anyone back at Minnie’s would report the vehicle missing. Hell, they wouldn’t even report Tito missing. Still, he parked it at the back, next to some dumpsters. There was a No Parking sign. Like he cared. Then he got out of the Cadillac and stretched expansively.

He was wearing the overcoat he’d brought from Little Fork, but he was still reluctant to shed it. The coat camouflaged the guns in his waistband. He pulled it closer to his body as he walked round the side of the building and into a cool breeze. He saw what he wanted: a booth attached to the outside wall. He searched his pockets for change, fed quarters into the machine.

The telephone rang a dozen times before it was answered.

‘Hello?’

‘That you, boss?’

‘Larry?’ Huffman asked. ‘Larry Bolan?’

‘Yeah. It’s me.’

There was a pause. Larry knew that those empty seconds were very important. At the end of them he would know if this was a mistake. Perhaps the biggest mistake of all.

‘You survived?’ Huffman sounded pleased, but that meant nothing. He always seemed happy and relaxed, whatever murder he was planning. ‘I thought Joe Hunter had killed you along with Aitken and Wallace.’

Larry smiled. He was in the clear: Huffman was unaware of the fates of his co-conspirators. Neither had the pilot filled Huffman in before he had brought down the helicopter. Larry wasn’t averse to letting Hunter take the crap for all those deaths.

‘I was trapped under wreckage when the bastard sent my truck into the restaurant. I was knocked out. When I woke up I was too late to save Aitken or the judge. By the time I got my act together, everyone had already gone. So I did what I thought best: I followed Hunter.’

‘You followed him here?’

‘Only as far as the airport, but then I got held up by a blizzard. But I guessed he’d be heading your way.’

‘You’re in Texas, then?’

‘Just down the road a piece,’ Larry said, not about to divulge his location just yet.

‘That’s great, Larry. I could do with you here with me. Hunter’s around.’

‘You know where?’

‘No, but he can’t be far away. Come in, Larry. Help me. I want a good man at my back.’

‘What about those others you were bringing in?’

‘Yes, they’re all here. I called them back from Little Fork.’ Huffman grunted. ‘But forget them, Larry. You know you were always my favourite.’

But you didn’t care for Trent, did you, you bastard? Larry thought.

‘You still want to kill Joe Hunter, right?’

‘I’ll be there in a couple of hours, boss.’

‘That’s great, Larry, just great.’

Larry hung up.

Yeah, just great, he thought. But not for you, boss. If you get in the way, I’ll kill you too.