L is for Lawless
Page 62"That's right, doll. Gilbert's certifiable, especially when he thinks he's been betrayed," Ray said to her. "Look at what he did to me. You think that's the end of it?"
"What am I supposed to do? It's done now. It's over. I took the money and ran. The minute I got here, I counted it. I thought I'd die when I found out how little there was."
I said, "Back up a step. When was Farley supposed to join you?"
"As soon as he could. They called the passport office and the guy swore he'd put them in the mail. Farley knows where I am, and we made arrangements for him to call me from this pay phone down the street."
"He never called you at all?"
"He called me once. This morning. He had to wait 'til Gilbert went out. When I told him about the eight grand, I could tell he was scared. He said he'd think of something and call me back in an hour."
Ray said, "You haven't heard from him?"
Laura shook her head.
I said, "But Gilbert must have known you never got off the plane in Palm Beach. Didn't his buddy call him right up to say you never showed?"
"Well, this is a very sophisticated plan," I said. "What about Farley? I'm sure Gilbert won't suspect him."
"You think he's figured it out?"
"Of course he has!" Ray said. "He's waited forty years to get his hands on this dough. Gilbert's a psychopath. He's so paranoid he's almost psychic. You're an amateur. You think he can't see right through you?"
"But Dallas is huge. He'll never find me," she said. "I paid the hotel in cash and I'm using an alias."
"Farley knows where you are."
"Well, sure, but I can trust him," she said.
Ray closed his eyes. "You better hit the road."
"But where would I go?"
"What about Farley? He won't know where I've gone."
"That's the point," I said. "I agree with Ray. You can't worry about him. You have to put as much distance as possible between you and Gilbert."
"Well, I'm not going to do it. I told Farley I'd be here and I'm staying," she said.
I said, "Oh, boy."
"Gilbert isn't Superman. He doesn't have X-ray vision or anything like that."
"Yeah, right," I said. I searched through my handbag until I found my airline ticket. I started opening drawers in the bed table, looking for a telephone book. "Well, gang. I don't know how you're going to resolve this little conflict, but I'm getting out of here."
"You're leaving us?" Ray said, startled. "What about Chester?"
"He fired me," I said. I found the Yellow Pages in a separate book that probably weighed ten pounds. I lugged it out of the drawer and hauled it onto my lap, leafing through to the section marked "Airlines."
"But you can't just abandon us," Ray said.
"I wouldn't call it that," I said.
"What would you call it?"
"Ray, we're not joined at the hip. I came here on impulse, so I thought I'd go home the same way." I tucked the phone in the crook of my neck and punched in the number for American Airlines. As soon as the number answered, I was put on terminal hold while a mechanical voice assured me my business was valued beyond rubies. "Anyway, the money's stolen," I went on conversationally, "which is just one more reason I don't want to be involved in this."
"It's been forty years since we cleaned out that vault," Ray protested. "The bank's out of business. Place went belly up back in 1949. Most customers are dead, so even if I wanted to play straight, who would I return the money to? The state of Kentucky? To what end? I spent my life in jail for that dough, and I earned every cent."
"It's still a crime," I said politely, not wanting to seem quarrelsome.