36: A Novel by Dirk Patton Page A

broken and not set.  Bruises on his jaw and neck, and one ear crusted with blood where the large hoop he liked to wear had been ripped out. 
    His clothes were in tatters, and he was filthy.  I could smell him from ten feet away.  But that didn’t stop me from stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug.
    “What are you doing here?”  He sobbed into my shoulder.
    “Trying to save your dumb ass,” I whispered back.  “We don’t have much time.  Your cop buddies came to me.  They want their shit, and if you don’t cooperate they’re going to pay the warden to have you killed.  If I take it to them, they’ll leave you alone.”
    “They’ll never leave me alone,” he said as we moved apart slightly.  “I know who they are.  I could testify against them.  That’s why I won’t tell them where it is.”
    “Tim, listen.  If I don’t bring that shit across, today, you’re dead.  I looked in their eyes, man.  They aren’t fucking around.  Maybe they won’t have you killed at first.  Maybe just peel some skin off or take your eyes.  Whatever the gangs in here can do to make you talk, but these are serious guys. 
    “Tell me where it is.  I’ll deliver it, then I’ll get the money from Mom and Dad to pay of the warden and get you out of here.  That’s your only choice.  And we’ve got to hurry.  That guard’s going to be back any minute.”
    I stared hard at him.  Gave him the look I used when we were kids and he was being an ass about something.  The look that told him he’d better do what I said or shit was going to get a lot worse.  He stared back at me, bloody snot alternately appearing and disappearing in his nose as he breathed.  Finally, he nodded and looked down at the floor.
    “The Pink Pussy,” he mumbled.  “It’s a whorehouse on the western edge of town.  Know it?”
    “No, but I can find it.”
    “In the back parking lot is a beat to shit Ford Ranger.  Black.  The shit is in a false compartment behind the seat.” 
    His head was hanging down and he stared at the floor as he spoke.  I felt for him, but at the same time I was angry with him for having made his own mess.
    “Keys?”
    “Stand at the rear bumper and walk ten yards straight out into the desert.  Look for a rock shaped like Texas.  They’re under it.”
    I was surprised.  This was a simple, yet effective trick to not have any ties to a vehicle on you in case you were arrested.  Not that it would keep some local kid from breaking out a window and hot wiring it, but it showed more cunning than I thought Tim possessed.
    “Anything else I need to know?”  I asked as the interior door clanged open.
    “Come back for me.  Please, Bob!  Don’t leave me here!” 
    The guard had walked into the room and began shouting at Tim, gesturing at the open door with his billy club.
    “I’ll be back for you,” I said as the guard grabbed his shoulder and propelled him away from me.  “I promise.”
    I watched him disappear through the door, the guard still yelling.  When it slammed shut, I let out the breath I’d been using to contain my anger.  Turning, I pounded on the exterior door.  There wasn’t an immediate response so after half a minute I pounded again.  I was getting pretty worried, five minutes later, when I finally heard the sound of a key scrape in the lock.
    The door was yanked open and the guard sergeant stood blocking my exit to freedom with his bulk.  I stepped closer, wanting out of that room nearly as much as I’ve ever wanted anything, but he didn’t budge.  Just held his hand out and smiled.
    With a sigh, I reached into my pocket and thumbed five more twenties off the rapidly shrinking roll of cash.  I did it so he couldn’t see how much I had.  When I held it out, the money disappeared as neatly as the first hundred I’d given him and he stepped to the side and made a grand sweeping gesture for me to exit.
    I walked through, keeping a close watch on the club tightly