Chapter 19 #2
El Paso shook his head.
“I didn’t think so.”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked sulkily.
“Do? To make amends, you mean? Don’t do a goddamn thing until I give you the go-ahead. Lay low, keep out of sight. Until I tell you otherwise, that’s what you can do. Are you listening?”
“I got it, I got it.”
Roland hitched his chin toward the door.
El Paso stood there for a few seconds, then turned and left, not looking nearly as contrite as he should.
Roland shot the last of his scotch, then called Oz.
Allen pushed his sleep mask up to his forehead and grabbed his phone. “What?”
“A news flash that can’t wait.”
“The trucks from Chihuahua got intercepted at the border?”
“It’s not quite that bad.”
Allen sat up, reached for his can of Mountain Dew on the nightstand, and took a swallow. “I sense it’s not that good, either.”
“I told you about our homeless problem.”
“You said that new kid was going to take care of it.”
“It got a little out of hand.”
Allen listened as Roland related the events of the night. “Jesus Christ,” he said when Roland finished. “Was anyone in the restaurant tonight who wouldn’t want to be seen?”
Roland named a player for the New Orleans Saints.
“He was having dinner with his girlfriend. He wouldn’t want his wife to find out.
I escorted them out through the kitchen.
I went around to everybody we do business with and personally assured them that the police presence had nothing to do with either the restaurant or our enterprise. ”
“Do any of them know this kid, El Paso?”
“No.”
“Or that he was acting on your behalf?”
“No.”
“What about the restaurant staff?”
“They’ve seen him but don’t know what he was doing for me tonight, and they don’t ask questions about anyone I take into my office.”
Allen removed the sleep mask and got out of bed. Carrying his can of soda with him, he padded over to a cheval glass and checked himself from several angles as he thought over everything Roland had told him.
“The kid said the homeless man hadn’t moved for an hour and then came up fighting?”
“‘Sprang up.’”
“When he saw the knife.”
“Right. Until then, he’d just sat there hunched over and took the abuse.”
“Seems strange that he was so passive, then suddenly got aggressive.”
“Survival instinct, I guess,” Roland said. “Although I don’t entirely trust El Paso’s story.”
“You don’t believe he actually cut the guy?”
“He might’ve stretched the truth to impress me, get back in my good graces. Yeah, there was blood on his knife, but I’ve explained that. And if El Paso did injure the other guy, it couldn’t have been as bad as he made out, or else the man wouldn’t have been able to run away like he did.”
“Hmm.”
“Lucky for us, El Paso got away, too. Both were motivated to clear out quick.”
“No idea where the homeless man went?”
“None. The delivery truck missed him by a hair. Would have been better for us if it had killed him.”
Allen couldn’t agree more. “At least then we would know he wasn’t a threat.”
“We don’t have to worry about that. I let on to El Paso that we did, but I don’t actually think it. I laid it on pretty thick, told him he’d put the operation in jeopardy, but I said that only to knock him down several notches.”
“Did it work?”
“No.” Roland paused. “He’s arrogant as hell.
I’ve told you as much. I thought he’d be a handy guy to have around, you know?
Lots of guts. Zero fear. I like that about him.
Still do. But he’s gotten way above himself, way too fast. I told him to scare a few people, not to create the friggin’ circus he did. ”
“He didn’t do as told,” Allen said. “He seized the initiative and overstepped.”
“Yeah, and if things had ended different, it could’ve been bad for us. So, what do you think? Kiss him goodbye before he becomes more of a liability than an asset?”
Allen took a sip of his soda, wandered back over to the bed, and sat down on the edge. Looking down at his bare feet, he realized he needed to call his pedicurist in the morning. “You need to ask?”
“Figured,” Roland said.
“When will you handle it?”
“As early as tomorrow.”
“I’m getting a pedicure tomorrow. Wait until the day after. I’d like to be there to personally bid El Paso farewell.”
After several seconds of dead silence, Roland said, “Excuse me?”
“The way you describe him, he was defiant. Uncaring about the potential damage he could have caused. He’s more audacious than that skimmer, Adler. In this operation, being too audacious is as dangerous as being too stupid. I want to watch the comeuppance of El Paso.”
“I get that, but—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay out of sight and just observe.” He chuckled. “Besides, it’s not like he’s going to live to tell about it.”
Roland snorted. “No. So, day after tomorrow. Late. After I close the restaurant.”
“How will you get him there?”
“That’s the easy part. But I’ll have to dump him somewhere other than Bayou Coeur. I heard from Auclair today. As of now, the sheriff’s office is still investigating.”
“I thought they would have given up by now.”
“Just as well if they had. I was told that Darcy’s got nothing. I was also told that Haskell was champing at the bit to get in on it, but Bowie is keeping him at his desk.”
“Why would Haskell be so eager to get in on it?”
“He’s an adrenaline junkie.”
“Hmm.” Allen set down his soda. “Night after next.” He clicked off without further discussion.
He stretched out on the bed but didn’t put his mask back on.
His mind was churning too fast to go to sleep.
Several aspects of the account he’d been given were troubling.
Roland seemed to think there wouldn’t be any repercussions from tonight’s incident.
But Oz wasn’t comfortable discounting the possibility of blowback of some kind, no matter how minor.
Of course El Paso could be lying or exaggerating as Roland suspected.
But Allen couldn’t help but wonder about a homeless man who had sprung up fighting, had possibly sustained a knife wound, yet had possessed the speed, agility, and derring-do to play chicken with a delivery truck, and then have enough wiliness to vanish.
What were the chances?
Slim to none.