“Yours?”
“Radar follows the planes as they approach Scotts. In the last half mile, when they’re below the radar, occasionally a plane will turn toward my dock.”
“Doesn’t the Customs and Border Patrol mind?”
“What the CBP doesn’t know won’t hurt them.”
“Okay.”
“Meet us at noon tomorrow. My Mexican associates will be present, so, Dyson, don’t embarrass me by keeping us waiting.”
“Okay.”
“When will you make your move on the remote vault?”
“Hmm? Vault?”
“I can read a blueprint, Dyson.”
“A couple of days after I have the weapons. No more than that.”
Brand motioned toward the thug at the rail. “I want my man going on the job with you,” he said. “Canada is only a few miles away, and I don’t want anyone getting lost.”
I could have told him sure, why not. After all, there wasn’t actually going to be a robbery. At noon the ATF was going to bust Brand and his Mexican associates, and by this time tomorrow night I was going to be explaining to Nina why I called Shelby instead of her. If I was going to hit the remote vault, though, I wouldn’t be doing it with Brand’s armed thug standing somewhere behind me, so, keeping in character, I said, “No frickin’ way.”
“Oh?”
“He makes me nervous.”
Brand leaned in and spoke softly. It was the first time he’d used an indoor tone of voice since I met him, and I have to confess to a ripple of anxiety that rolled up my spine.
“He should make you nervous, Dyson,” Brand said. “Very nervous. He’s a made man. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“He pulled himself up by his own bootstraps? Oh, wait, that’s a self-made man.”
“You’re a real funny guy, Dyson. Don’t you think he’s funny, Brian?”
“Smart mouth,” Fenelon said.
“It’s like my old man used to say, just because it’s important doesn’t mean it’s serious,” I said. “In a couple of days we’re all going to be rich.”
“I want to be there when you divide the take,” Brand said. “Me and my man.”
“Imagine that.”
Brand displayed his empty hands again. “Until tomorrow, then,” he said.
I left the booth without saying good-bye, lingered at the bar for the length of time it took Josie and me to down what remained of our drinks, and escorted her past the deputies outside to the Ford Taurus.
“What did Brand say?” she asked when we were safely inside the car and pulling out of the parking lot.
“We’re on for tomorrow noon. A place called Crane Lake.”
“I’m going with.”
“No, you’re not, Josie, and don’t even think of arguing with me.”
“You’re not going alone, are you?”
“No. I’ll take one person with me. Someone who knows the area.”
“Who?”
FOURTEEN
“Why me?” the old man wanted to know. He had been asking the same question since we boarded the Jeep Cherokee that morning and started driving toward the tiny town of Orr, population 267—yes, I looked it up. Hell, he had been asking the question since I made my choice known the evening before. All the other Bandits had asked it as well, only the old man’s voice was the loudest and most strident.
“Why not take someone else?” he asked. “Any of ’em, all of ’em be better use to you than me.” His hands trembled—his entire body trembled—and I knew he was desperate for a beer or a joint. I made sure he had neither. “It don’t make sense to bring me.”
“Perfect sense,” I said.
“I don’t get it.”
“Remember what you said when we were on the deck that one time? Take care of my JoEllen, you said. Take care of David. Take care of all of them. That’s what I’m doing.”
“How? How are you doin’ that?”
“Think about it.”
He did, for nearly thirty seconds. “Tell me, Dyson.” His voice sounded desperate, and I decided it was better to have the conversation now instead of later—we were about five miles shy of Orr.
“What we’re about to do—meeting with your pals like this—someone might get hurt,” I said. “If that happens, I want it to be you.”
“Me? My pals? What are you talking about? What did I do?”
“You’re the rat.”
I spoke the last word like it was an obscenity. The old man’s eyes grew wide with the sound of it. His mouth fell open yet spoke no words.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” I asked.