Chapter 5
Ricky Lee Pink’s leg bounced like the needle on a sewing machine while he watched the armored truck from across the Interstate.
The idiot cops rooted through the carnage like a bunch of blind hogs.
The boy smashed a fist against the dashboard, letting fly every curse he knew—and he knew a lot.
That piece-of-shit lawman had gunned Millner down in cold blood.
Ricky Lee hadn’t seen it. He’d been screaming down the backroads with Duvall in the stolen Buick.
The news on the radio made it clear enough. Millner was murdered.
Duvall and Pink ditched the Buick LeSabre in one of the countless stock ponds around the county.
The water would dry up soon enough in this heat, eventually exposing the car.
They’d be long gone by then. Duvall had stashed his black dually pickup near the dump site.
They were now parked with a dozen other vehicles on the westbound side of the Interstate.
The highway patrol had opened the inside lane on the eastbound side, but the cops still crawled around the armored truck.
“I thought they’d move the bodies sooner,” Ricky Lee muttered. “It’s been hours. They just throw a tarp over them and leave ’em there to bake?”
“It’s a crime scene,” Duvall said, smug as always. “But there’s nothing for them to find.” He thought he was smarter than Millner just because he’d gotten away. Pink knew enough to realize that wasn’t smart. It was lucky.
Duvall had taken to the access road after it all went sideways.
He’d paralleled the Interstate at regular speed, just a guy in a copper Buick out for a Sunday morning drive.
Millner and Ricky Lee had the misfortune of meeting an oncoming highway patrol.
Every cop in the county focused on the blue Crown Vic—allowing Duvall to slip away unnoticed.
None of their getaway was planned. The whole shit show had worked through dumb luck.
“You could have run off and left me,” Ricky Lee said.
“I could have,” Duvall said.
“Why didn’t you?”
“You can identify me,” Duvall said. “And, anyhow, I thought you had the diamonds.”
“I thought you had the diamonds,” Ricky Lee said. Jewelry was the last thing on his mind now. He nodded at the activity across the Interstate. “You know any of those assholes?”
“Not as such,” Duvall said. “That short one hunkered down looking at the ground beside the culvert? That’s the cop you want, right there. He did Vince.”
Ricky Lee swallowed the catch in his throat. “You saw it?”
“I did not,” Duvall said. “But that’s the one who had him at gunpoint when I drove by.”
“What’s his name?”
“Can’t remember,” Duvall said. “He shoes horses out at the racetrack in Willow Park a couple of weekends a month. I know his wife has cancer or some such. Pretty bad, the way I hear it.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Ricky Lee whispered.
Duvall chewed on his bottom lip. “You do that,” he said. “After we find the diamonds.”
“I don’t care about diamonds,” Ricky Lee said, his chin quivering. “I’m gonna find out who that squat little bastard is and …”
“And what?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Look,” Duvall said. “Kill him and everything he loves. I don’t give a shit. There’s no way the boss lets us walk away empty-handed.”
“Millner doesn’t get to walk away at all.”
“This I know,” Duvall said. “And it chaps the hell outta me. Vince was my friend too.”
Ricky Lee was locked onto the scene across the highway. His face glowed crimson, remembering how the whole horrible mess had gone down.
Ricky Lee had taken up a position alongside the truck, ready to do his one job—take care of the guard on the passenger side.
But he’d just stood there, staring, when the man bailed out armed with a shotgun.
The guard raised the gun to fire, but a shot from the rear of the truck put him down.
He toppled over, disappearing into the tall grass of a nearby ditch.
Ricky Lee turned to find Millner holding a shotgun of his own. Stunned by the boom of gunfire and the realization that Millner had just saved his life, Ricky Lee staggered to the rear of the truck, zombie-like.
The whole job wasn’t supposed to take more than two minutes from the time the truck pulled over. They were there almost five.
It was early, so only a few cars and trucks blew past. A farmer in a rusty old pickup gave them the stink eye.
He’d looked like the kind of guy who might pull over down the road and start taking potshots with the .
30-30 hanging in the back window of his truck.
It seemed like an eternity before Duvall finally called it.
They’d left empty-handed. Then the cop gunned down Millner. …
“… the diamonds,” Duvall said. He’d evidently been talking the whole time, but Ricky Lee hadn’t heard a word of it.
“What about the diamonds?”
“I’m saying they didn’t just disappear into thin air.
” Duvall frowned at having to repeat himself.
“They must have fallen out of the back when that dumb son of a bitch opened the door.” He gave a slow nod, like he was on to something.
“I’ll bet you money one of those cops found the stones on the ground and shoved them in his pocket. ”
“Cops …” Ricky Lee said, only half listening.
Duvall snapped his fingers. “Stay with me, kid.”
Ricky Lee turned abruptly in his seat and looked Duvall in the eye. “Don’t you do that,” he said. “My father used to snap at me like I was a dog. I didn’t like it then, and I’m damn sure not going to put up with it from you.”
Duvall raised his hands in surrender. He was not a small man, but he looked puny next to Ricky Lee.
“Okay, okay. I didn’t mean anything by it.
But I do need you to concentrate. First order of business is to find those diamonds.
After that, you can chop that cop into itty-bitty pieces if you want.
His name’s Cutter, by the way. Parker County Number 62.
I heard it on the scanner while you were floating around in your own little world there.
Who knows, maybe he’s the one who grabbed the diamonds. ”