“I gotcha, bruh. Sorry, it’s just I’m … uh, I’m just really hyped about this. You gonna get your money back and then some. I know I owe you, man,” he said. Beauregard didn’t say anything so Ronnie thumped his brother on the shoulder.
“Let’s go, Reggie,” he said.
The Toyota backed out of the yard and took off down the dirt lane like a bat out of hell.
* * *
Kia was pacing a hole in the floor. Beauregard went through the living room and sat at the kitchen table. Kia came and sat down across from him.
“What was all that about?” she asked.
“Just some guys with some work for me,” he said.
“What kind of work?”
He took her hand and closed his fingers around it. “The nursing home called today. They say Mama owes them $48,000. Something went wrong with her Medicaid. With everything else going, I think I should just hear them out.”
“No. NO. Why the hell does your Mama owe them that much? Bug, I don’t mean to sound evil, but that’s on your Mama. We got our own problems,” Kia said.
“That’s why I’m gonna hear them out,” he said. Kia pulled her hand out of his grasp.
“No. I’m not gonna let you do this. I can’t. Do you know what it’s like laying in bed waiting for somebody to call and tell me to come identify your body because you got killed on a job? Yeah, the money was good, but I can’t take you coming in here with a bullet in your shoulder and a head full of broken glass. Going up to Boonie’s when you should be in a hospital.”
Beauregard reached out to stroke her cheek. She flinched but did not pull away.
“We don’t have any choice. We right behind it. If this is legit it might give us some breathing room,” he said.
Kia inhaled, held it for a second, and let out a long breath. “Sell the Duster. It’s worth at least twenty-five thousand. God knows you’ve put enough money in it.”
“You know that’s not an option.” His voice was low. Dark.
“Why, because it belonged to your Daddy? I don’t want you to end up like him. You holding on to that car like he was some kind of saint when everybody know he was a snitch,” Kia said. Beauregard stopped stroking her cheek.
“Bug, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
Beauregard slammed his fist down on the table. Two jelly jars at the far end fell off and shattered on the floor.
“The Duster ain’t for fucking sale,” he said. He got up and stalked out the front door. The whole house shook when he slammed it.
* * *
Ronnie and Reggie were sitting in front of the garage when he got there. Beauregard didn’t speak to them when he got out of the truck. He went to the door, unlocked it and stepped inside. They got the hint after a few minutes and followed him. He was sitting behind his desk by the time they got to the office. Ronnie sat and Reggie leaned against the door frame.
“Talk,” Beauregard said.
“Damn, right to the point, huh? Alright. So I got this little piece I mess with. She lives over in Cutter County near Newport News. She works at a jewelry store. The manager is this big bull dyke who probably got a strap-on pecker bigger than yours and mine put together. Anyway, she been trying to get down Jenny’s pants. That’s her name, Jenny. So one night a couple of weeks ago, this carpet licker took Jenny out for drinks and let it drop they were getting in a shipment of diamonds. Diamonds that ain’t on no manifest. Jenny said she was talking about giving her one of the diamonds. You know, because she all sweet on her and shit. Now this the part when you ask how much we talking about,” Ronnie said.
Beauregard took the gun out of his waistband and put it on the desk between them.
“How much we talking about, Ronnie.” His tone was flat as a pancake.
Ronnie ignored his apparent disinterest. He knew the next words out of his mouth would change that. “Five hundred thousand dollars’ worth. I know a boy out of DC who says he will give us fifty cents on the dollar for them. That’s $250,000 split three ways. Eighty grand, Beau. That can buy a lot of motor oil.”
“It’s $83,333.33. My cut would be $87,133.33. You owe me, remember,” Beauregard said.
Ronnie sniffed hard. “Yeah, I remember.”
Beauregard leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “How many people know about this other than you, me, Jenny, your brother back there and the fence?” he asked.
Ronnie frowned. “Well, Quan knows,” he said.
“Who is Quan?”
“He’s the third guy. I met him upstate. He’s good for this.”
“When you trying to do this?” Beauregard asked.
“Next week,” Ronnie said without hesitation.
Beauregard got up and grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge, then sat down again. He popped the top off with the edge of the desk. “That ain’t gonna work. Next week the Fourth of July. Traffic on the roads gonna be heavy as shit. Plus it’s supposed to be nice. In the mid-eighties. Cops are out heavy in that kind of weather.” He took a long swig and killed half the bottle. “Plus we would need to go check it out. Plan routes. Get the layout of the store. Things like that,” Beauregard said.
“So how long you thinking?” Ronnie asked. Beauregard hadn’t offered him a beer, but he wanted one. Badly.
“At least a month. Depending on the route,” Beauregard said. He finished his beer.
“A month? That’s not gonna work. I need this like yesterday, man,” Ronnie said.
Beauregard tossed his beer in the trash can in the corner. “See, that’s why that damn horse died. You always in a rush,” he said. Ronnie didn’t say anything. He rubbed the palms of his hands over his thighs. He pushed the heels down into his thick-corded quadriceps.
“Look, man, can we split the difference and say two weeks?” he said.
“I didn’t say I was in. I’m just saying what you would need to do,” Beauregard said.
Ronnie leaned back in his chair until the front legs came off the floor. “Bug, I got a guy who is gonna be in DC on the twenty-sixth and gone by the end of the thirty-first. At the most, that gives us three weeks to get ready. And that’s pushing it. This gotta move smooth and quick. Like I said, we can get paid. Real money. Not some pissy-ass stick-up money. Real dollars. But we gotta move fast. I need you on this, man. Not just cuz I owe you but because you the best. I ain’t never seen nobody do what you can do with four wheels on the road,” Ronnie said.
“I ain’t some trailer park trick you trying to talk out of her panties, Ronnie. I’m listening to what you have to say. You lucky I’m doing that,” he said.
“Alright, Bug. I hear you. I’m just trying to help you out. It looks like you need it,” Ronnie said.
“What you mean by that?” Beauregard said.
The way he stared at him made Ronnie’s balls climb up somewhere around his ears.
“I didn’t mean nothing. Nothing. I noticed you only got the two cars on the lifts, that’s all,” Ronnie said. Beauregard studied Ronnie’s face. His cheeks bloomed with red splotches that worked their way up from his neck. Ronnie’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.