High Desert Barbecue (32 page)

“
They’re bad guys, and they need another punch in the head.”

Chapter 74

R
ollo couldn’t have been happier to see his friends. It wasn’t loneliness so much—in fact, he’d had plenty of company. But the awareness that his company was murderously inclined toward him soured the social aspect of his situation. And that sourness was amplified by the knowledge that he was feeling a tad drowsy, and that if he succumbed to the temptation to shut his eyes for a moment, those murderous companions were likely to dismantle him in no time flat.

S
o when Lani and Scott came into view like the proverbial cavalry. Proverbial, Hell! They were mounted on horseback like the
real
cavalry, even if Scott appeared to be stoically suffering from a brewing case of hemorrhoids. And they weren’t alone; right alongside them rode a half-dozen obvious civilians, all festooned with a variety of devices designed to put holes great and small in objects at a distance. They were clearly on friendly terms with their companions, and Rollo happily took them at face value as allies when he rose to wave a greeting.

“
Hey, there!” he yelled, waving his hat with one hand, gripping his rifle with the other, and bracing his feet in a successful effort to avoid the siren call of gravity. “Glad you brought friends!”

“
Cops are probably right behind us,” Scott yelled back. “Sheriff’s deputies were pulling up as we hit the trail.”

R
ollo grunted, taking the information as it was likely intended—as a heads-up. He slung his ancient British rifle over his shoulder and began climbing down.

“
Cops!” somebody shouted. Rollo was pretty sure it was the mouthier of the male firebugs—the one with the bandaged shoulder. What was his name? Bob … Yeah, Bob. He stood next to the quiet, skinny guy who always looked a bit confused. “About time! You guys are dead.”

“
Not as dead … ugh … Not as dead as the prick you sent to cut us off at the trailhead.”

T
hat was Scott, dismounting from his borrowed horse with a minimum of grace. Well … So there
was
an outdoorsy thing at which Scott sucked! Not that Rollo would get much mileage from the knowledge—he hadn’t been on horseback since summer camp as a kid.

D
amn, he’d hated summer camp All of those rules …

“
Wait,” Rollo said, Scott’s comment belatedly registering. He jumped the last couple of feet to the canyon floor. “You shot one of the fuckers?”

S
cott stood in obvious discomfort, very obviously trying not to rub parts of his anatomy that ought not be handled in public.

“
No. Lani did. After he killed Champ.”

D
ismounted herself, with a bit more grace than her boyfriend, Lani nodded a silent confirmation and turned her eyes away.

“
Awww, shit.” Rollo turned to glare at the firebugs. “I liked that dog.”

O
pen-mouthed and quiet through the brief discussion, Bob started jabbering.

“
You killed Tim?” He glanced back and forth between Scott and Lani.

“
That bitch killed Tim?” That was the woman shaped like a fire hydrant. She’d jumped up from her apparently permanent station by the injured guy Rollo and Scott had questioned to take an aggressive stance next to Bob.

“
Shut up, assholes.” Rollo snarled. “There’s no reason we have to stop there.”

H
e joined Lani and Scott.

“
So,” he said. “Apparently the dead prick’s name was ‘Tim’.”

L
ani didn’t seem all that interested in the news.

“
This is going to be tough for the cops to get past, isn’t it?” she asked. “Even though I was defending myself, they’ll just back up the guy in the uniform.”

S
cott didn’t answer, but simply put his arms around her.

R
ollo grimaced, then strolled over to introduce himself to the new arrivals.

Chapter 75

S
o far as Scott could tell, he and his friends had done everything possible to survive a shitty situation. But Lani was right. He’d never once heard of cops getting chummy with people who’d exchanged gunfire with their buddies. He was pretty sure that even the traditional rivalry between feds and local officials wasn’t going to be enough to overcome the us-against-the-world code of law-enforcement officers.

A
nd so he just held Lani and hoped that the video they’d sent out brewed up a helpful shitstorm before he and his friends had been too thoroughly run through the jailhouse meat grinder.

A
few feet away, Bill called to Rollo.

“
Is that all of them?”

R
ollo glanced at the prisoners, then snorted.

“
Hey asshole,” he yelled to Bob. “Where are the other two? The hippie chick and your fearless leader?”

B
ob shrugged and looked away.

E
mma put her hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“
We have this,” she said.

W
ith mild interest, Scott watched as Bill, Emma and another of the new arrivals went in search of the missing firebugs. The others stayed to guard the prisoners.

T
he sight of Rollo stooping to briefly paw through a backpack near the man Scott had shot in the ass briefly stirred his curiosity. The man on the ground never moved, lying still with his arm over his eyes. He seemed totally uninterested in events around him.

B
efore he could begin to speculate about Rollo’s actions, however, a roar overhead caught his attention.

“
Oh, we have company,” he said to Lani.

B
ursting into view over the canyon wall came a low-flying helicopter. It overshot the group, circled back, and then hovered in place.

“
That has to be from the sheriff’s department. Probably making sure it’s safe for the deputies to come in.”

H
alf-heartedly, Scott waved at the chopper.

“
Hey there!”

S
urprised by the loud hail, Scott turned to see Rollo waving with unexpected enthusiasm. His rifle was clenched in one hand.

“
Small suggestion, buddy,” Scott called out. “Don’t wave the gun at the cops.”

“
Oh shit!” Rollo dropped the rifle to the ground, then resumed his vigorous waving.

T
he chopper dipped in seeming acknowledgment, then roared away.

S
cott took a deep breath, bracing himself for the new arrivals. From the corner of his eye he saw movement, and turned to find Bill and Emma leading the missing couple back to the group. Even under an impressive layer of grime, the two seemed to be … blushing.

“
This is great!” Bill enthused. He waved his smart phone over his head. “You wouldn’t believe what these two were up to. I recorded it all!” He turned to the strays. “You guys have talent.”

T
he pair actually seemed to turn crimson.

“
What in Hell … ?,” Scott asked.

“
I’m not sure what to call it,” Bill answered. “Maybe nature porn—”

“
Erotica, dear,” Emma interrupted. She gently placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Eco-erotica.”

A
s Lani rested her head against his chest and quietly giggled, Scott just shook his head.

Chapter 76

J
ason wasn’t sure just how things had gone so horribly, horribly wrong. Well, so horribly, horribly wrong
again
.

I
t wasn’t so much being interrupted while mid- … well … thrust with Samantha by that odd redneck couple. Yes, that was humiliating, but, frankly, he was fairly accustomed to humiliation by now. It was almost an old friend.

N
o, it was the
frustration
. After all, when the sheriff’s deputies arrived, the snoops they’d been chasing were all immediately lined up facing the canyon wall. And their redneck friends were disarmed by the cops and told to keep their mouths shut. After a cold, thirsty and frightening Hell of hiking and shooting through Sycamore Canyon, Jason seemed close to accomplishing his mission and protecting his crusade or Carthage Option or … well, he’d have to think about it. And he’d been within reach of victory all because that meathead Tim had finally done the right thing. He’d got himself shot.

T
he cops really hadn’t liked that. They’d been awfully solicitous of Jason and his team, commiserating over their fallen comrade further down the canyon, and applying a slightly higher degree of medical care than Rena had managed to Ray’s wounded posterior and Bob’s shoulder.

I
t was all going so well.

A
nd then …

O
ne of the deputies—the one who
didn’t
have a soup-strainer mustache—straightened up from where he was kneeling by Ray. The ranger’s backpack lay unzipped and open at his feet. His eyes were unreadable behind his aviator shades, but the item in his hand said all that needed to be said.

I
t was a bag. Suspended between two gloved fingers, it was a freezer bag, transparent—well, trans
lucent
beneath a coating of dirt—and filled with a large quantity of dried vegetable matter.

“
We have something here.”

R
ay managed to prop himself up on one arm and gawk—just before the deputy planted a foot in his chest and pressed him back to the ground.

A
nother deputy promptly snatched a candy bar back from Terry.

W
ell … If there’s anything that cops like less than cop-killers, it’s even a hint that somebody doesn’t take the drug laws completely seriously.

W
hy did dumbass Ray haul dope on the mission?

A
nd, if he was going to bring it, why didn’t he share?

D
amn, those handcuffs hurt.

Chapter 77

“
The head is too square,” Lani protested. She moved around for a better view, then peered at an angle. “Well, it’s a
little
too square.”

“
Face it, honey,” Scott answered. “He had a square head.”

“
Like a fucking brick,” Rollo chimed in.

T
he three of them stood in the packed-dirt parking lot at the trailhead into Sycamore Canyon. Lani wore a green dress that was, perhaps, just a little light for the chilly, overcast day. She kept her arms folded in a gesture that gave off less of an air of displeasure than of a need to conserve body temperature. Scott was better prepared for the weather in a tweed jacket, tie and corduroy trousers. Rollo had impressed just by showing up in something reasonably clean.

L
ani and Scott studiously refrained from commenting on the glasses perched on their friend’s nose—a heroic effort, considering their sturdy frames and the frequency with which he fussed with them.

“
He was a good dog,” Lani insisted.

“
No disagreement here,” Scott said. He took off his jacket and draped it over Lani’s shoulders. “He was the best.”

R
ollo grunted assent and bent down for a closer look at the object of their scrutiny.

R
endered in bronze by an artist friend of Lani and Scott, within feet of the trailhead itself, was a sculpture of Champ. Lifelike, even if his head was a bit more square than Lani liked, bronze Champ grinned and had his leg raised to pee on an equally metallic ranger hat.

T
he money for the sculpture had been raised by private subscription. The Forest Service consented to its placement, and even sent an official to attend the unveiling, only under the duress resulting from the significant public good will enjoyed by Scott, Lani and Rollo after their misadventure.