Slash and Burn

Chapter 39

Huffman had returned to the living room of his ranch. He was sitting in his wing-backed chair, silently contemplating his next strategy. He held Imogen Ballard’s camera in his cupped palms, watching on the small screen as Trent and Larry Bolan beat the sheriff of Little Fork to death. Jim Aitken watched the proceedings, holding his gun levelled at the sheriff’s chest so that he couldn’t fight back. Not that he’d be able to, not against the Bolans. The horrendous beating culminated in Trent ripping off one of the man’s ears. The microphone had picked up Imogen Ballard’s sob. She’d tried to restrain herself but failed. Then the picture swept across the forest and came to a halt on a single figure standing watching the proceedings. The picture zoomed in.

‘She didn’t even get my good side,’ Huffman grunted. But there was no mistaking his face. It didn’t help matters that he’d lifted a hand and waved at her: pretty incriminating evidence. At that the picture disintegrated into a series of flashes and broken pixels as Imogen fled in panic. He could hear her ragged cries and the pounding of her feet.

A film like this could send him to prison in a heartbeat. There would be copies, despite what Joe Hunter said. It was even more important now that he kill both sisters and their champion. In reality, the sisters had become inconsequential to the feared killer named Quicksilver. He would kill them and that would be that, but with Joe Hunter things would be different. Hunter had embarrassed him in front of the other syndicate enforcers; he would be made to suffer first.

He’d allowed Wicker the pleasure of hacking Desmond Molloy to pieces, but Huffman decided that he personally would take Hunter to the slaughterhouse. Unlike Molloy, Hunter would still be alive when Huffman started cutting.

Huffman turned off the camera.

Larry Bolan was sitting in silence at the far end of the room, lost in his own thoughts. Huffman lifted the camera. ‘This is more damaging to you than it is to me,’ he told the giant man. ‘I’m surprised that you didn’t want it back as much as I did.’

‘I’ve never been concerned about the woman or what she filmed,’ Larry said. ‘What was she going to do, post it on the internet? I’ve seen more zombie and cannibal shit on YouTube than you can shake a stick at. People don’t take any of that stuff seriously. They’d have just put it down to another pile of crap that someone staged.’

‘She could’ve put it into the hands of law enforcement. They’d have taken it seriously enough, particularly when the sheriff failed to turn up for work.’

‘We had that covered, boss,’ Larry explained. ‘He’d have looked like he’d run off with his new woman after stealing money from Judge Wallace.’

Aitken had set that up. He exchanged a filing cabinet drawer from the sheriff’s office with the one in Wallace’s. There would have been no reason for Devaney’s fingerprints to turn up there unless he had broken into the judge’s office.

Huffman agreed that the disappearance of the sheriff could be covered by that scenario, but not when there was accompanying footage of the man being beaten to death with him as the overseer. But he let it go. He had the original footage back and copies meant very little without the original. It was as Larry pointed out: these days even an amateur with the most basic computer program could stage a convincing hoax. His lawyers would pull that kind of evidence to pieces.

Huffman put all thoughts of the video away, shelving it as a minor problem to be dealt with later. ‘You still want Joe Hunter, Larry?’

‘I want him so bad I can taste it.’

‘I want him too,’ said Huffman. ‘But we needn’t be enemies over this.’

Larry straightened, causing the chair to creak ominously.

‘Since when did we become enemies, boss?’

‘Since you shot down my helicopter.’ Huffman sat back, folding his hands on his stomach.

‘You knew about that?’

‘The pilot got a call off before it went down,’ Huffman explained. ‘He said there was a giant man with a Magnum. Who do you think that sounds like, Larry?’

‘But you still asked me back, even though I killed your men?’

‘I did, Larry. I understood your motivation. You wanted to be the one to kill Joe Hunter. If killing the others was your way of getting him, so be it.’

Larry stood up. He towered in the shadows of the room, his head almost scraping the ceiling. ‘I killed more than those punks.’

‘Aitken and Wallace? Yes, I guessed that as well. Aitken’s head had been twisted off his shoulders and Wallace had taken a swan dive from the top floor of the restaurant: I didn’t think that was Joe Hunter’s style.’

‘So where does that leave us?’

‘It should leave us as enemies. But, like I said, I don’t want things to be that way between us.’

Larry laughed. ‘Those other assholes you brought in might not have realised that you’re using them, but I’m not stupid. They’re getting killed one by one. When do you plan for me to die?’

‘I’m planning nothing of the sort. The only thing I want is Joe Hunter. He’s embarrassed me, Larry.’

‘Embarrassed you? The motherfucker murdered my little brother!’

‘I want to kill him personally.’

Larry shook his head. ‘He’s mine.’

Huffman stood up, as languid as a cat stretching. Larry tensed. Huffman waved him down. ‘Relax, Larry. I want to kill him, but I don’t mind having you along for the ride. We can do this together, but I take the credit.’

‘I rip him to pieces but anyone asks and I tell them it was you?’ Larry’s mouth turned downward as he contemplated Huffman’s offer. It was a win-win scenario if ever he’d seen one. He’d get his revenge, but he didn’t take the fallout for the man’s murder. ‘What’s not to like about that?’

‘No one must ever know the truth, Larry.’

‘Who am I going to tell?’

‘It will mean killing the others.’

‘Grade and Wicker? I don’t mind doing them.’

‘I mean those Hunter has working with him. Someone was out there with a sniper rifle, could even have been two of them judging by the angles of the shots that dropped Souza and Burton. The women will have to die, too.’

‘We’ll kill them all.’

‘But we keep Hunter for last.’

‘Whenever.’ Larry nodded towards the floor. ‘What about your people downstairs?’

Huffman pondered for the briefest of moments. ‘They’ll tell anyone exactly what I tell them to say.’

‘Whatever.’

Huffman reached out a hand.

Larry eyed him quizzically.

‘What’s wrong, Larry? Don’t we have a deal?’

‘We have a deal,’ Larry told him. ‘I’m just checking where the hell you’ve got that damn razor.’

Huffman grinned. ‘That’s why I like you, Larry. Did I ever tell you that you were my favourite?’

‘Yeah, boss, you did.’

They shook on their renewed partnership.