Tularosa: A Kevin Kerney Novel (Kevin Kerney Novels) (28 page)

Borderland Storage. Kerney drove past two parked cars and stopped at the locked front gate.

There was no sign of Eddie. He cruised for a block before swinging back for another pass. His headlights picked up fresh skid marks and small bits of reflective plastic in the middle of the street near the cars. One car had a Chihuahua license plate. He couldn't see the other license plate, but there was damage to both vehicles. That was enough for Kerney. He turned onto a side street, killed the engine, and got his pistol from the glove box. His knee barely tolerated the shock as he trotted to the cars. He was halfway there when he heard Eddie scream.

There was something wet and sticky in Eddie's left eye. He blinked, squinted, looked up, and saw Carlos standing over him. Before he could move, he felt a horrible pain in his right hand. He screamed, and screamed again as Carlos stomped on his other hand. Gasping, he shook his head, trying to stay conscious.

"You bastard." It was all he could manage. His hands felt cemented to the asphalt.

"You speak pretty good English for a jorobado," Carlos said, lighting another cigarette, waiting for Eddie to pull himself together.

"What are you doing here, Eddie?"

"Fuck off," Eddie answered, trying to move his right hand. Carlos hit him in the mouth. Eddie's head bounced off the tank. He sucked in a deep breath and waited for the throbbing to stop.

"Are you working with that gringo Kerney?" Carlos asked. Eddie shook his head.

"No."

"You're a lying piece of shit," Carlos retorted, balling his hand to a beefy fist. Eddie turned his head so Carlos wouldn't hit him in the mouth again. The punch caught him high on the cheek. Eddie winced and sucked in more air. Blood made it impossible to see out of his left eye.

"Finished?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Just starting, you puta. Tell me why you're here."

"I'll tell you," Eddie replied. "Just don't hit me again, all right?" Carlos relaxed and nodded approvingly.

Kerney stood behind Carlos, at the corner of the warehouse, with a finger at his lips.

"Give me a minute, will you?" Eddie asked.

"Sure, but make it fast. I don't have time to play with you." Eddie coughed and mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" Carlos asked.

"I said fuck you," Eddie replied as Kerney brought the pistol butt down on Carlos's head. Eddie liked it a lot when Kerney hit Carlos again.

"Madre de Dios, I'm glad to see you," he said, staring at Carlos's prone body. Kerney reached for his hand to help him to his feet.

"Not the hands," Eddie barked.

"He broke all my fingers."

Kerney knelt down and looked. It was too dark to see the extent of the damage. Kerney grabbed Eddie under the arms, lifted him to his feet, and propped him against the propane tank.

"I think I'm going to faint," Eddie said.

"Hold on." Kerney took out a handkerchief, pushed the flap of loose skin back into place against Eddie's forehead, and dabbed the blood from his eye.

"Thanks," Eddie said weakly. Kerney kept his hand on Eddie's chest to hold him upright. He could feel Eddie's rapid heartbeat.

"How's your head?"

"Spinning."

"Can you stand without falling?" Eddie, eyes closed, waited for the sensation to subside before he answered.

"Of course I can."

"Are you sure?" Eddie opened his eyes and made a face. His teeth hurt.

"Just don't ask me to walk yet." Kerney let go, retrieved Eddie's wallet and badge case from the asphalt, and searched Carlos. He found a key, a card, and some money in a coat pocket. He used Carlos's cigarette lighter to inspect the stuff.

"What have you got?" Eddie asked.

"A way into the storage compound." He held up the folded bills.

"Your money?"

"Army funds," Eddie said. "Keep it for me." Kerney nodded, used his belt to tie Carlos's hands behind his back, flipped him over, and positioned him within kicking distance of Eddie's foot.

"I'll be back in a minute. If Carlos wakes up while I'm gone, kick him in the nuts."

"Gladly," Eddie replied. It took only a few minutes for Kerney to return, cuff Carlos, and dump him in the bed of the truck. Under the glare of the headlights he sat Eddie down and inspected his hands. The knuckles were fractured. He bandaged them with tape from his first-aid kit while Eddie winced and refused to look.

"How are they?" he asked when Kerney finished.

"Broken," Kerney answered, cleaning Eddie's head wound and covering it with a Band-Aid.

"I know that. How bad?" Eddie demanded. Kerney considered what to say as he pulled Eddie to his feet.

"You'll be fine after the doctors work on you," he promised. "I've seen a lot worse."

"You're not lying to me?"

"No, I'm not. Let's get you to a hospital."

"No way," Eddie said gamely.

"First I want to see what's in that storage unit."

"You need a doctor."

"So do you, for chrissake," Eddie retorted.

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

"Yeah. Let's go look. I want to see if all the shit you told me is real."

"So do I," Kerney agreed. He left Eddie alone in the glare of the headlights, got behind the wheel of the truck, and opened the passenger door. If Eddie couldn't walk under his own steam, he would take him directly to the hospital. Eddie stood with a disgusted look on his face, his bandaged hands cradled at his chest. He wobbled to the truck and climbed in. Kerney reached over and closed the door. Kerney opened the overhead garage door to the storage unit, turned on the lights, and drove his truck inside. Scattered around the room were sealed crates, packing boxes, and wardrobe trunks. He got a tire iron from the truck, walked to a large wooden crate, and pried it open while Eddie stood next to him.

"Madre de Dios," Eddie said. The crate was filled with dozens of antique Army rifles, all in mint condition.

"Isn't that something?" Kerney asked with amazement. They moved on and found military uniforms by the dozen, boxes filled with spurs, saddle blankets, and headgear, and crates brimming with sabers, pistols, and scabbards. One large box held cavalry saddles by the score. Reading Gutierrez's list was one thing, but actually seeing the cache was mind boggling The urge to open everything was almost irresistible. Kerney forced himself to stop, checked on Carlos, who hadn't stirred, and dragged him out of the bed of the truck.

"Have you seen enough?" he asked Eddie as he propped Carlos against a packing crate.

"Amazing," Eddie replied.

"It's like something from a movie." Carlos started to come around. He groaned and looked at Kerney with hate-filled eyes.

"You hit me pretty hard, gringo," he said.

"You'll live," Kerney said.

"You won't," Carlos replied, glancing at Eddie. Kerney lifted Carlos's chin with the point of the tire iron.

"Pay attention to me, Carlos. No threats. Cooperate and I won't fuck you up. Give me the names of Benton's partners."

"Eat shit," he answered. Kerney poked the tire iron into Carlos's Adam's apple, cutting the skin. Blood trickled from the wound.

"I'll make a deal with you, Carlos. Talk and I won't rip out your larynx." He dug the tip in farther, and Carlos started choking. Unable to speak, Carlos nodded his head.

"Who were Benton's partners?"

"I know only one other," Carlos answered. "A gringo, like you."

"His name?" Kerney increased the pressure slightly.

"I don't know. Senor De Leon did business with him privately."

"What kind of business?" Kerney demanded, pressing a bit harder at Carlos's Adam's apple.

"I don't know," Carlos gurgled.

A voice behind Kerney spoke.

"He's telling you the truth, Lieutenant."

Kerney pivoted to find James Meehan looking at him over the barrel of a pistol. For some reason, Kerney wasn't surprised. "Captain Meehan."

"Drop the tire iron," Meehan ordered. Kerney did as he was told.

Meehan's eyes found Eddie; another unexpected factor in the equation. He glanced at the bandages on Tapia's hands.

"It seems you've hurt yourself, Corporal."

"I'm just fine. Captain," Eddie replied, trying not to look stunned.

Meehan scanned the room for any more surprises. "Where's Benton?" he demanded. Eddie and Kerney said nothing.

"Dead," Carlos finally replied. The information stung Meehan. The complications never seemed to end. He'd have to adjust again, but he could do it. "Who killed him?" he asked.

"I did," Kerney answered, before Eddie could reply.

"I'm impressed. Benton was very proficient."

"Where is Sara?" Kerney demanded, changing the subject.

"Safely tucked away," Meehan answered. "You have something of mine."

"I can't help you."

Meehan cocked his weapon. "Don't tempt me. You've caused me enough problems. The coins and letters. Where are they?"

"I'll trade for them."

"Is Sara worth that much to you?"

"Whatever it takes."

"It's possible," Meehan allowed.

"Let me think about it. Stand up, Carlos." He watched him struggle to his feet.

"Why are you here?"

"Senor De Leon sent me," Carlos replied, trying to buy time and think things through. The patron would not want him to say too much.

"Meaning?" Carlos hesitated.

"We found a key on Benton's body. I came to take a look." Meehan chuckled.

"Such a den of thieves." Sara's creative ploy had almost worked. One more score to settle with the bitch. "I'll sort that out with Enrique later. Remove his handcuffs," he told Kerney. Hands free, Carlos rubbed his wrists.

"Walk to me," Meehan ordered. Carlos approached.

"I need your help."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to keep Kerney company." Carlos nodded. "Good," Meehan said.

"You've got your deal, Kerney. I'll exchange Sara for the coins and letters. Carlos will go with you."

"Agreed," Kerney replied.

"What about Eddie?" Carlos asked.

"He stays here."

He Leon wants him," Carlos said. "Alive."

"That can be arranged."

"Where do I meet you?" Carlos asked. De Leon hacienda. Be there in three hours," Meehan ordered. It would give him time to dispose of Sara. Then he would kill Kerney, if Carlos was too stupid not to do it himself, and turn Eddie over to De Leon. Everything would be tidied up and there would be nothing left to investigate.

"I'll be there," Carlos said. *** "You can't drive worth a shit," Carlos said. He sat next to Kerney, a handgun stuck in the gringo's rib cage, watching him trying to work the brake pedal with his right foot. The truck lurched to a stop at a red light.

Ramming Eddie's car had damaged the radiator of his vehicle, which forced Carlos to ride with the gringo in the truck. Carlos was not in a good mood. His neck and head hurt, Kerney's piss-poor driving made him nervous, and he wasn't sure if he had done the right thing in agreeing to help Meehan. The only happy thought was that he would kill the gringo as soon as he turned over the coins and letters. The traffic light turned green, and Kerney deliberately stalled the truck. The street was completely empty. He restarted the engine and let it idle.

"Think about it, Carlos. De Leon doesn't need Meehan anymore. You can give him the whole package, free and clear."

"And all you want is the woman?"

"That's all I want."

"She must be some piece of ass," Carlos suggested.

"Call De Leon," Kerney replied, nodding at the pay phone next to a bus stop shelter. He coasted to the curb and stopped.

"Let him decide."

"Keep driving," Carlos said.

"Don't be bullheaded. Meehan is just using you."

"I don't know," Carlos said, unsure.

"Let De Leon decide," Kerney repeated. He should call Don Enrique and get further orders, Carlos thought, looking at the pay phone. Things were getting confusing. Probably the patron will want all of them killed, he speculated. That was okay with Carlos. "Get out of the truck." Kerney opened his door.

"My side," Carlos told him, his pistol pointed at Kerney's right ear.

Kerney gave him an apologetic smile.

"I can't. My leg. Sorry." Carlos hesitated.

"Benton fucked you up a little, no? Okay. I'll follow you out. Keep your hands where I can see them."

"No problem." He turned toward the door, hands above the steering wheel, and watched Carlos's reflection in the windshield. As Carlos jockeyed around the gearshift, he shifted his concentration for an instant. Kerney spun back and slammed his elbow into Carlos's nose. Carlos's head bounced off the back of the seat, and Kerney hit him again with his elbow, this time in the mouth. As his head rebounded a second time, Kerney pounded his face into the dashboard. Carlos's false teeth flew out of his mouth and landed on the floorboard. Kerney took the pistol from Carlos's hand, pushed him back against the seat, and raised an eyelid. Carlos was out cold, with a smashed nose and his bottom front teeth embedded in his lip.

He removed the ignition key and went to the pay phone. The military police dispatcher at Fort Bliss didn't want to believe a cockeyed story about lost treasure and a wounded Army corporal, so Kerney demanded the man talk to Major Curry while he stayed on the line. Within two minutes the dispatcher was back, asking for instructions. Kerney gave him directions, told him to send troops, medics, and an ambulance for Eddie on the double, and hung up.

Carlos was still unconscious. Kerney needed a way to make him spill his guts quickly. There was no time for a drawn-out interrogation. *** Sara shook her head furiously to dislodge the scorpion that fell into her hair. It crawled down her cheek and stung her before she could grind her face against the wall and mash it. The sting was painful. The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered as the fuel burned low, making it hard to see the insects. She had stopped counting how many she had killed. She could feel the remains of the squashed bug on her face. The blood in her mouth from Meehan's blow felt like dried paste.