Last Of The Good Guys – Chapter Twenty
Howie Morgan’s Trailer
South Padre Island, Texas
Late Friday Night
Bobby and Jesús had been gone for less than an hour. Bobby’s little Tanya had fallen asleep on the couch, her head on Rachel’s lap as Rachel gently stroked her soft hair.
Rachel hadn’t gotten the full story before they left, but did get enough from Bobby about the ship, the murder, his own involvement and the background to Tanya’s presence to realize there had been a lot more going on than just her brother’s death. Not that her brother’s death didn’t grieve her, it did, but she’d known in her heart for some time that he was dead – had been working on acceptance for a couple of days now.
Of all the mayhem, it was the little girl asleep on her lap that most affected her. Although her childhood hadn’t been identical to this one’s, there were certainly some parallels. Maybe the only real reason for all of it was to give her an opportunity to change something for this one – something she wished someone had done for her and her brother long ago. She still had the beach house and she knew for a certainty these two were running out of places to hide. Maybe just set them up there until they sort something out. She’d never had children, but this little thing, falling faster asleep with every moment, certainly felt like she belonged on her lap. Life was strange, she thought.
What if they didn’t come back, she wondered. She’d have to get out of there, on her own. She needed to get out of there before anyone found any bodies. That would mean tonight, in the dark, with Tanya. Her mind went to Sunny. She wondered where he was right now, didn’t think he’d let too much time pass before he started looking for her – she thought they had developed that kind of relationship. She decided she’d wait two hours, then start walking. If she could get the two of them to the hotel, Sunny would get them out of Brownsville, and out of Texas.
With that thought in mind, she gently lifted Tanya’s head and slid out from under her, covering her with a tattered comforter. Time to get herself looked at and cleaned up.
In the tiny washroom at the back of the trailer she cringed when she saw herself in the mirror. The bruise on the side of her face had turned a dark purple. She splashed some water on her face and straightened her torn clothing as best she could, even tried to fix her hair a little. She laughed silently at herself, here she was with bodies piled somewhere outside, a little girl in trouble in the next room a couple of strangers taking care of them and a maniac, or more, out there somewhere – and she’s fixing her hair.
She was at the end of that thought when her hand slid down to the gun in her pocket. It wasn’t as if she’d actually heard anything. It was more of a feeling, between her and the little thing asleep nearby whom she’d gotten so close to so quickly.
She turned quietly, gun drawn, extinguishing the light as she stepped out of washroom and into the subdued light of the trailer.
“Drop it or I’ll kill the little bitch.” Howie had Tanya wrapped under his arm, his hand across her mouth. He was gripping her so tight her feet weren’t in contact with the ground, his knife so close to her throat she could die accidentally.
“Not a chance, you piece of garbage. If you hurt one hair on her head, you’re a dead man.” Her voice portrayed a calm she did not feel. Her mind raced past the thoughts of how much he already looked like a dead man – face ashen, breathing heavily, blood covering his clothes as though he’d gone swimming in it. “You let her go and I let you go, no other deal.”
She was trying to figure why he even returned to the trailer; whatever he needed it wasn’t there. Maybe he’d thought he could hide out, no one would connect him. Maybe he figured she would help him, patch him up, drive him and his money out of there – maybe he wanted to believe she liked a real man. Maybe nothing more than a wounded animal’s instinct, returning to its lair to heal or die. Rachel didn’t really know why, and she cared less.
“I’m goin’. And I’m takin’ the kid.” He edged towards the door. “Insurance. Once I’m in Mexico I’ll let her go.” He pulled Tanya up tight against him. Fear screaming from her eyes. “You tell ‘em that. Tell ‘em they don’t come after me and don’t tell nobody. I let her go in Mexico.” Howie was out the door as he said it. “Otherwise I’ll kill the little slut before I die.”
Rachel followed him out the door step for step as he backed his way to the cruiser, her gun held steady, two-handed. She told herself she couldn’t let it happen, and wanted to take the chance with a shot, but couldn’t. Howie continued to shield himself with the girl while he slid behind the wheel. He started it up and slipped her to the seat beside him, arm and knife menacingly wrapped around her, her eyes full of tears, as Rachel looked right into them. The headlights blinded her, sand spewing as Howie wrenched the vehicle around for his getaway to nowhere.
Tears running down her face, she screamed for him to stop as she stumbled after them through the sand. She didn’t slow until she saw the headlights coming towards her from the darkness. The two cars passed two hundred yards from her, as she stood transfixed in the glare of the approaching lights. It passed her, sand flying indiscriminately as the vehicle spun one hundred and eighty degrees before heading back towards her.
“Need a ride, ma’am?” Sunny swung the passenger door open.
“Sunny!” Rachel jumped in. “Follow him!”
Sand flew from the wheels, the rear end swinging erratically as they accelerated. “Don’t worry Ms Rachel, I got him in my sights.” He stepped hard on the gas. “You relax now, Sunny’s on the job.”
“The guy ahead of us is crazy, and he’s got a little girl with him. Thank God you showed up.” And that’s when it dawned on her, his showing up in the middle of nowhere. “How’d you find me?”
“I told you I wouldn’t be far away. He noticed her battered face as he continued. “I found real anonymous people lots of times. This Morgan, he’s one famous guy. No problem. Besides, you didn’t check in like you said you would.” He smiled through the darkness. “And I ain’t gonna face Jimmy as a failure, not yet anyway.” More headlights flash on the other side of the fleeing police cruiser. “Looks like we got more company.”
Rachel peered ahead, praying it was Bobby. She hoped he knew, somehow, that it was Howie coming towards him.
Bobby didn’t get the chance to figure it out as Howie suddenly veered off the beach and up onto a dune. The cruiser flew across the top out of control, slamming sideways into a second dune as it rolled onto its’ side.
Jesús jammed his foot on the brake. Bobby was out the door before the truck stopped sliding.
“Take the other side!” He pointed in a direction a little further down the beach as he shouted the words back at Jesús.
Bobby paid little attention to the flames starting their slow circle around the cruiser, concentrating on ignoring his pain as he circled to the back of the dune where Howie had disappeared. He knew Howie wouldn’t get far, and hoped his own strength held up better than he felt at the moment. He was barely able to make the top of the dune before he heard the groans and curses from the other side. He rose silently over the top and put his gun into the back of Howie’s neck. “Hi, Howie.” The nonchalant calm in his voice belied his breathless lack of strength.
“Bobby?”
With the mention of his name Bobby slapped his gun across Howie’s face, both the knife and the briefcase staying tight in his grasp as he rolled a few feet down the dune.
“Amigo.” Howie sounded offended as he brought a smile to his pain. “I got our money. I need a little help to get out of here.” He pulled himself a little upright, coughing blood as he spoke. “You and me Bobby, what do you say? Get me into one of them vehicles. Get me a Doctor. Fifty-fifty.” He held up the briefcase. “You and me. What do you say?”
“You’re not going to make it to a Doctor, Howie.” There was cold calm in Bobby’s voice. “I think I’m just going to kill you Howie, save time, and do everybody a big favour.” He added the afterthought. “Including you.” He walked to within a foot of him. “What do you say?”
Howie didn’t get to answer. The explosion and flames that shot up over the back of the dune had them both cowering in the sand. And when the noise subsided there was just Howie’s sick laugh in its’ place.
“What’s funny, Howie?”
“That your kid back at the trailer?” Howie spoke between his laughter and gurgling blood. “Well I took her in the car with me, and I think I might have left the pretty little thing back there.” A cruel look crossed his face. As Bobby instinctively turned towards the flaming wreck Howie jammed the knife into bobby’s bad leg and used the briefcase to knock the gun and Bobby to the sand. “And I’ll bet she ain’t so pretty any – “
The bullet in Howie’s stomach stopped him in mid-sentence. His eyes bugged out but his legs still held him while the sick smile faded from his face. He turned towards Rachel just as she fired the second bullet. This one took Howie to his knees.
She stepped between Bobby’s prone figure and the kneeling Howie. “You look like you’re praying, Howie.” She put the gun an inch from his face and fired until the chamber clicked empty several times. “Don’t frighten little girls.”
She slipped the gun back into her pocket and bent over Bobby. “Get up!” She pulled him by the arm. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now!”
“Tanya?”
“She’s okay.”
“Wait.” Bobby was on one knee, his arm around her shoulder as he reached across and took the briefcase out of Howie’s hand. “Is he dead?”
“Oh, I think so.” She replied casually as the two of them stumbled across the top of the dune.
He almost lost consciousness as he fell face first into Sunny and Jesús’ arms, the sound of gunfire having brought them back from their search.
“We leave pronto, amigo.” Jesús got his weight under Bobby’s arm. “Muy pronto.” Sunny got on the other side as the two of them half carried and half dragged him to the limo.
Jesús slid him onto the back seat while Sunny got behind the wheel. The cab roared to life, Jesús’ words partially lost in the noise. “We made it, amigo.” He tore his shirt and wrapped it around the knife wound as he spoke. “It was a very good Friday night, my gringo amigo.” Jesús smiled and slapped Bobby on the covered wound. “Good as new,”
The limo fishtailed away as Jesús, laughing his Friday night laugh, made the same kind of haste towards his flatbed.
While the car accelerated, a tiny figure pulled herself free of Rachel and her blanket wrap, squirming up and reaching over the front seat of the cab. “Daddy?”
Bobby opened his eyes enough to see her silhouette.
“Can we please go home now?”
Bobby smiled, and knew there was a God.
*
