‘Right.’
‘Is anybody chatting about Dalton Smith?’ Please God no, he thinks.
‘So far as I know Dalton Smith is still good, but these guys have access to all the best investigative agencies, outfits that make the FBI look like rubes, and if you left any loose ends, any at all, Dalton Smith is a goner.’
Bucky turns from the sink, and as he wipes his reddened hands on a dish towel, he looks directly at Alice. He doesn’t have to say anything to make his point.
Billy says, ‘She’s not a loose end. When I leave here, she goes her own way as someone else. If you can put together the documentation, that is.’
‘Oh, I can do that. Did one thing already. There’s nothing like the Internet when it’s hooked up to state-of-the-art equipment.’ He comes back to the table and sits down. ‘How do you feel about being Elizabeth Anderson?’
Alice looks startled, then gives a tentative smile. ‘Fine, I guess. I don’t get to pick my own name?’
‘It’s better that you don’t. Too easy to pick one that links to your past. I didn’t pick it, either. Computer did. A site called Name Generator.’ He looks at Billy. ‘If you trust her, that’s good enough. What about these Jensens? Or the real estate guy? They have any idea you were someone other than Dalton Smith?’
Billy shakes his head.
‘So you’re clean and that’s good, because there’s a bounty on your head.’
‘How much?’
‘Chat rooms say six million dollars.’
Billy gapes. ‘Are you shitting me? Why? They were only paying me two to do the job in the first place!’
‘I don’t know.’
Alice is turning her head from one to the other as if watching a tennis match.
Bucky says, ‘Nick’s handling the contract, but I don’t think it’s his money any more than the money you were promised was his.’
Billy props his elbows on the table and his loosely closed fists on the sides of his face. ‘Who pays six million dollars to kill a shooter who shot another shooter?’
Bucky laughs. ‘Save that one. It’s right up there with she sells seashells down by the seashore.’
‘Who? And why? Joel Allen was nobody, as far as I can tell.’
Bucky shakes his head. ‘Don’t know. But I bet Nick Majarian does. Maybe you’ll get a chance to ask him.’
‘Who’s Nick Majarian?’ Alice asks.
Billy sighs. ‘Benjy Compson. The guy who got me into this mess.’
Which is sort of a lie. He got into it all by himself.
14
In the end, Billy decides he and Alice will stay with Bucky for three days, maybe four. He wants to finish writing about the Funhouse. That won’t take long, but he also needs time to think about his next move. Does he need another long gun, scope-equipped, to go with the Ruger? He doesn’t know. Does he need another handgun, maybe a Glock that holds seventeen rounds instead of a measly six? He doesn’t know. But a potato-buster for the Ruger might come in handy, little as he likes them. Would he have occasion to use such a thing? He doesn’t know that either, but Bucky tells him that a jam-and-lock silencer for the GP should be no problem. If, that is, he doesn’t mind something homemade that might break apart after a few shots were fired through it. Bucky says in the high country all sorts of accessories are available.
‘I could get you an M249, if you wanted. I’d have to ask around, but I know some people to ask. Safe people who can keep their mouths shut.’
A SAW, in other words. Billy has a brief but brilliant memory of Big Joe Kleczewski standing outside the Funhouse with that very same gun. He shakes his head. ‘Let’s stick with the silencer for now.’
‘Silencer for a Ruger GP, got it.’
Alice will have her paperwork in three days as well, but when she and Billy go for groceries in Sidewinder, Bucky wants her to pick up some hair dye. ‘I think you should go blonde for your driver’s license. But leave the eyebrows dark. That would be a good look for you.’
‘You think?’ She sounds doubtful but looks interested.
‘I do. You were in business school, so I’ll give you some background to go with that. Can you take shorthand?’
‘Yes. I took a summer course in Rhode Island and picked it up fairly fast.’
‘And you can answer a phone? “Dignam Chevrolet, how may I direct your call?”’
Alice rolls her eyes.
‘Okay, entry-level skills at least, and the way the economy is roaring, that should be enough. Add nice clothes, good shoes, and a cheery smile and there’s no reason why Beth Anderson can’t find her niche.’