Devils And Dust. J.D. Rhoades

stood up. “What do you want with Jack?”

      “Jack’s a friend of mine,” Angela replied, “and a friend of my husband.”

      The girl looked suspicious again. “Your husband know you’re out here looking for Jack?”

      Angela shook her head. “Doubtful. He disappeared about three weeks ago.”

      “So he run off,” Jules said, her voice rising, “and you’re looking up your old flames?”

      “Jules,” Angela’s voice was low, but it cracked like a whip. It silenced the young woman’s building tirade like shutting off a tap. “Jack’s a friend, that’s all. I’m not here to steal him away from you.”

      At that moment, the door swung open again, bringing in the light and the noise of a truck roaring by on the highway.

      The man who stepped inside easily topped six feet. He had gotten leaner and darker since Angela had last seen him, and the desert sun had dried and toughened him like leather. The biggest shock, however, was his hair.

      “You cut all your hair off,” Angela said.

      Jack Keller looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. He ran a hand over the short stubble. “It gets pretty hot around here.”

      “I noticed.” There was another long silence. “Can we talk?” Angela said finally.

      Keller glanced at Jules, then back at Angela. “I have to get to work,” he said. “But yeah. For a few minutes.” He gestured toward a booth near the back. Angela walked over and took a seat. Keller followed. He sat across from her, hands folded on the table. His face gave nothing away. A moment later, Jules slid into the seat next to him. She slid an arm around his broad shoulders, her eyes daring Angela to say anything. Keller looked uncomfortable for a moment, then his face returned to its former impassivity. “How’d you find me?” he asked.

      Angela looked amused. “After all those years in the bail bond business, you think I forgot how to run a skip trace? And you weren’t even trying to cover your tracks, Keller.”

      “My question,” Jules said, “is why?”

      Angela glanced at Jules, then sighed. “Oscar’s gone,” she told Keller.

      “That your husband?” Jules said, with a pointed look at Keller.

      “Yes,” Angela said. “My husband.”

      Keller looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

      “He didn’t die, Jack. And he didn’t leave me. He disappeared.”

      Keller looked up. For the first time, a spark of interest flared in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Where was he when you last…” The spark in his eyes died like an ember. He looked back down at his hands.

      “He’d finally got enough money to bring his sons here from Colombia,” Angela went on. “But they didn’t show. He went to talk to the…to the people who were bringing them.”

      “Smugglers,” Keller said.

      “Well, he wasn’t legal,” Angela said, “so he couldn’t very well do it any other way. But they couldn’t tell him anything. Or wouldn’t. I don’t know. He was frantic. He said he was going to go find them. He told me not to worry.” She barked a short, mirthless laugh. “Like that was going to happen.”

      Jules spoke up. “What does this have to do with Jack?” she demanded.

      Angela didn’t answer. She just looked at Keller. It was he who finally spoke. “She wants me to help find him.”

      “Why does she think…?”

      “Because that’s what I used to do for her. Track people down.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Angela looked at him, unmoving. “And because Oscar Sanchez was my friend. I owe him.” He looked at Angela. “And I owe you,” he told her.

      She shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything, Jack,” she said. “Any debt you ever owed me, you paid a long time ago.”

      “Yeah. Well,” Jules said, “that’s good to know.”

      Keller looked at her and his face softened. Angela felt a stab of jealousy. She quickly snuffed it out. You took another road long ago, she scolded herself, and now you’ll see it through. To the end. “Actually,” she said to Jules, “I don’t know if I want Jack to help me with this. There’s someone else I want him to talk to first.”

      Keller looked up. “Who?”

      Angela slid out of the booth and stood up. “Lucas is with me. He’s across the road.”

      “Who’s Lucas?” Jules said.

      “Another friend,” Keller replied. He nudged Jules slightly with his hip. She got up slowly, her face expressionless. “So,” she said in a flat voice, “you coming back?”

      “Yeah,” Keller said, “I am.”

      “You can come with us if you like,” Angela said. “This affects you, too.”

      “You’re goddamn right it—” Jules began, then she stopped. She looked at Angela. “I can?”

      “Like I said, Jules,” Angela said, “I’m here as a friend. On behalf of a friend. That’s all.”

      Jules looked at her. Then she smiled slightly. “Okay,” she said. “Look, I’m sorry—”

      “Don’t be,” Angela said. “It’s okay. You coming?”

      Jules shook her head. “No. I got a business to run here.” She looked at Keller. “And don’t take all day,” she said severely. “It’s Friday, and this place is gonna fill up fast come five o’clock. I’m gonna need you.”

      Keller smiled. “I know. I’ll be back.”

      The bright sunlight felt like a physical shock as they stepped out of the bar. A semi roared past on the two-lane desert highway in front of them, diminishing rapidly into the far distance, leaving only whirling dust and empty silence behind. There was no other traffic. A black Cadillac CTS with a sticker from a car-rental company was parked across the highway, in front of one of the units of a worn-out looking motel. A sign in front announced it was the DES RT S NDS INN.

      “Yeah,” Angela said as they crunched across the gravel parking lot. “I bet the place really jumps.”

      “You’d be surprised,” Keller said. “I don’t know where they come from, but they start showing up right after five. The place fills up. The motel makes a few bucks giving them a place to sleep it off.”

      “Everybody wins,” Angela said. They crossed the road. “Lucas said he’d be at the pool.”

      He was. Major Lucas Berry, U.S. Army Medical Corps (Ret.) sat at the edge of the postage-stamp-sized swimming pool behind the hotel, dangling his legs in the tepid water. He was dressed in a brightly colored pair of swimming trunks that provided a sharp contrast to his dark-brown skin. A cooler of iced Tecate beer sat on the edge of the pool beside him. When he saw Keller and Angela, he swung his legs out of the water and stood up. He was taller than Keller by a couple of inches, and broader. He extended his hand. “Sergeant,” he said. His voice was a deep baritone that sounded like it should be coming from a burning bush.

      Keller shook his hand. “Major,” he smiled. Then the smile faded. “You here to see just how crazy I am?”

      “Pretty much,” Berry said. “Pull up a chair. Have a beer.” Keller pulled up one of the plastic chairs that ringed the pool. He shook his head at the offered beer. Berry raised an eyebrow slightly at that, but made no comment.

      “I’m going back in the room,” Angela said. “This heat’s too much for me.”

      As she walked