Prayers For Rain Part 90

Bubba turned his head, shot me a deadpan look. "Funny. That's what Vanessa says."

On the roof across from Scott Pea.r.s.e's loft, we sat and waited for the phone call. Nelson, intrigued by the rifle, stayed and sat with us.

At ten on the nose, Scott Pea.r.s.e's phone rang and we watched him cross the living room and lift the receiver of a black phone attached to the brick support column in the center of the room. He smiled when he heard the voice on the other end, leaned lazily back into the support column and cradled the receiver between neck and shoulder.

His grin faded gradually, and then his face turned into a sickened grimace. He held out his hands as if the caller could see him and spoke rapidly into the phone, his body bending with his pleading.

Then Carrie Dawe must have hung up on the other end, because Scott Pea.r.s.e jerked his ear back from the phone and stared at it for a moment. Then he screamed and smashed the receiver over and over again into the brick column until all he had left were a few shards of black plastic and a dangling metal mouthpiece.

"Gee," Angie said, "I hope he has a second phone."

I pulled the cellular phone I'd gotten at Bubba's from my pocket. "How much you want to bet he breaks that one, too, once I'm done."

I dialed Scott Pea.r.s.e's number.

Before I hit send, Nelson said, "Hey, Ange," and pointed at the rifle. "You want me to do the honors?"

"Why?"

"f.u.c.king recoil'll knock your shoulder back a few blocks is all." He jerked a thumb at me. "Why can't he do it?"

"He's got s.h.i.+tty aim."

"With that scope?"

"Really s.h.i.+tty aim," she said.

Nelson held out his hands. "It'd be my pleasure."

Angie considered the rifle stock, then glanced at her shoulder. Eventually, she nodded. She handed the rifle to Nelson, then told him what we wanted.

Nelson shrugged. "Okay. Why not just kill him, though?"

"Because," Angie said, "A, we're not killers."

"And B?" Nelson asked.

"Killing him's too nice," I said.

I depressed the send b.u.t.ton on the cell phone and Scott Pea.r.s.e's phone rang on the other end.

He'd been leaning with his head against the brick column, and he raised it slowly, turned his head as if unsure what sound he was hearing. Then he walked over to the bar curled around the edge of his kitchen and lifted a portable off the top.

"h.e.l.lo."

"Scottie," I said. "What's happening?"

"I was wondering how long it would be before you called, Pat."

"Not surprised?"

"That you learned my ident.i.ty? I expected no less, Pat. Are you watching me at the moment?"

"Possibly."

He chuckled. "I sensed as much. Nothing I could put my finger on, mind you-I mean, you're not bad-but in the last week or so, I had the feeling eyes were watching."

"You're an intuitive fella, Scott. What can I say?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"Was it your intuition that told you to bayonet five women in Panama?"

He wandered into the living room, head down, index finger scratching the side of his neck, a wry smile curling up one side of his face.

"Well," he exhaled into the phone. "You've done some extra credit in the homework department, Pat. Very good."

The grin left his face, but the scratching grew a little faster.

"So, Pat, what's your plan, buddy?"

"I'm not your buddy," I said.

"Whoops. My bad. What's your plan, a.s.shole?"

I laughed. "Getting testy, Scott?"

In the loft, he put a palm to his forehead, then brushed the hair back off his head with it. He looked out at his black windows. He toed a shard of black plastic on the floor with his shoe.

"I can wait you out," he said. "You'll tire of watching me do nothing."

"That's what my partner said."

"She's right."

"I gotta beg to differ on that score, Scottie."

"Really?"

"Sure. How long can you wait now that Carrie Dawe knows who Pilot Tim McGoldrick is, knows you're the same guy who ruined her daughter's life?"

Scott said nothing. A strange, low hissing noise came from his end like the sound of a teapot in the minute before it comes to a full boil.

"You tell me that, Scottie?" I asked. "I'm just curious."

Scott Pea.r.s.e turned suddenly from the brick column and stalked across his s.h.i.+ny blond floors. He reached the oversized windows and stared out at his reflection, raised his eyes and looked up at what could only be, from his side, the barest outline of our roof edge.