“Ten years on the job, Jerry Lee, and I’m still surprised at the duplicity of the human heart.” The black Ranger rested one hand on the butt of his pistol as he watched Rakkim. “It’s enough to turn even a strong man to violence and drink.”

“Do you see what you’ve done, sir?” The white Ranger kneed Rakkim, doubled him over. “You’ve gone and upset my partner, and he’s a sensitive soul.”

“You best turn this boy over to us, sir,” said the black Ranger. “We can use someone to scour the floors and swab the toilets. We used to have a beaner for that but he ran off.” He flicked Leo’s collar. “No problem of that with an Ident.”

“How much is the contract on the boy?” said the white Ranger.

“Fifteen thousand dollars,” said Rakkim, “but I can’t-”

“Fifteen thousand?” The white Ranger shook his head. “That’s grand larceny last time I checked. Tell you what, sir, we’ll pay you five hundred dollars for the contract. Just submit a bill to the State Bureau of Law Enforcement.”

“I can’t…”

“What’s the security code for the collar?” asked the white Ranger.

“Officer, please…” said Rakkim.

The white Ranger cuffed him.

Rakkim stayed on his feet. It was probably a mistake, better to hit the dirt, but his patience was about at an end.

The white Ranger cocked his head at Rakkim. He had good instincts, but he wasn’t listening to them. The blue light from the cruiser strobed away behind him, his face in partial shadow. “I want the code. Now.”

Rakkim swallowed. “Code…code’s 78455.”

The white Ranger tugged at his Stetson. “Thank you kindly.”

The black Ranger remote-popped the trunk of their patrol car. Jerked a thumb at Leo. “Climb on in, idiot.”

Leo looked at Rakkim.

“Go on.” Rakkim flexed a muscle in his wrist, felt the Fedayeen knife slide into his hand. “It’s going to be all right. These nice men will take good care of you.”

“I don’t want to get inside the trunk,” wailed Leo. “I’m afraid of the dark.”

The black Ranger grabbed Leo by the scruff of the neck, dragged him to the back of the patrol car, and tossed him into the trunk.

“Please…” said Leo.

The black Ranger slammed the trunk lid down.

“Almost forgot.” The white Ranger snapped his fingers at Rakkim. “I need the tracker. Wouldn’t want the idiot to run off.” He quick-drew his pistol. Fast too. Probably practiced for hours at the barracks. “Hard keeping good help. Don’t know why.”

Rakkim raised his hands. “Please…I’ll do what you want.”

“Anything?” The white Ranger centered the barrel of the pistol on Rakkim’s forehead. “You’re a right certain accommodating fella, aren’t you?”

“What…what else can I do?” said Rakkim.

The white Ranger showed those big flat teeth of his again. The cruiser’s blue light seemed to be flashing faster and faster. “Yeah, what else can you do?”

“Quit toying with that man, Jerry Lee,” said the black Ranger, getting behind the wheel of the cruiser. “Blow his shit away and let’s get out of here. Faye’s stops serving the buffalo steak special at three a.m.”

Rakkim watched the vein along the side of the white Ranger’s neck pulse. Looked like about eighty-five, ninety beats a minute. He still had time.

The white Ranger held the pistol steady. “How about you pass over the tracker and I promise to say a few words over you when the deed is done. I’ll give you a real sweet send-off. I’m a church deacon.” He grinned again, his teeth like chalk in the blue light. “’Course, I’m not saying all my prayers been said over consecrated ground.”

Rakkim slowly reached toward the white Ranger, holding the tracker out with two fingers, just as he had been told. His other fingers curled around the Fedayeen knife, its blade resting invisibly against the inside of his forearm.

The black Ranger beeped the horn.

“Daryl’s impatient,” said the white Ranger. “Me, I’m not all that fond of buffalo steak,” he added, reaching for the tracker with his free hand.

Rakkim bumped the white Ranger’s gun hand as the man fired, slashed his throat in the same motion, and ran toward the cruiser. The black Ranger fumbled for his pistol, started to raise it when Rakkim drove the blade through the bulletproof window, glass shattering as he slid the knife deep into the Ranger’s windpipe.

The black Ranger sighed, the sound filling the stillness. His eyelids fluttered like moths.

Rakkim eased the knife free. The black Ranger’s blood splashed across Rakkim’s wrist. Warm, but already cooling in the night air. People died so quickly, the heat fleeing from them…Rakkim reached in, turned off the light bar. The darkness was soothing. He listened to the rush of the river and the sound of Leo beating against the trunk lid, then walked over and checked on the white Ranger.

The trooper lay facedown in the dirt. Jerry Lee, that’s what his partner had called him. Jerry Lee’s blood puddled black in the moonlight. A mirror reflecting the stars. Jerry Lee and Daryl. Good to know the names of the dead. Rakkim shuddered. Where did that come from? He never needed to know their names before. Killing wasn’t counting coup, wasn’t keeping score. It was a last resort. Always had been, anyway. He wiped his hands on the grass, washed himself with dirt, still turning things over in his mind. He looked toward the river, his eyes already adjusting to the dim light. Caught in the mangrove roots that bordered the river…something…a tailfin of a car, only the very tip visible. Rakkim wondered how many other vehicles were piled up under the water, how many others had been carried downstream. He looked back at Jerry Lee and spit.

Leo cried out from inside the trunk.

Rakkim had started toward the rear of the cruiser when the trunk lid popped open. Leo rolled out onto the ground, gasping for air. Wires protruded from one hand. He had bypassed the trunk security lock somehow.

Leo saw the body of the white Ranger. Saw the mess inside the cruiser. His knees buckled. “Rikki…what…what did you do?”

Chapter 16

“I can’t believe…can’t believe what you did,” said Leo, teeth chattering in the rush of humid air. He rested his head in his hands. “How did I let my dad talk me into this?”

What a crybaby. Rakkim tilted the seat back a little more, steering with one hand. Top down. The Caddy’s beams the only headlights on the road. Clear skies, more stars than anyone could count. Acres of alfalfa and sugar beets sweetening the sultry night. Crickets sawing away their desperate love songs, the sound undulating, and Rakkim hummed along with them, part of them now. No limits. No boundaries. He loved the South.

Leo looked up at Rakkim. “You killed those men.”

Rakkim glanced at him. “You’re fucking welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for help. Besides, it was your fault it came to that. You were supposed to take the long way out of town.”

“I missed the turnoff.”

“You think this is funny?” Leo’s lower lip quivered. “What’s funny about two dead lawmen?”

“Those two weren’t lawmen, they were just thugs wearing badges.” Rakkim drove on, the big twelve-cylinder engine roaring, steady as a freight train. Easy to ignore Leo’s questions, but not his own. Why had he done it? Even worse…why had he enjoyed it? A peeling sign by the side of the road announced PIGGLY WIGGLY DINER-HOT FOOD, COLD BEER, TEN MILES. “You hungry?”

“Hungry?” Leo’s voice cracked. “I may never eat again.”

“Wouldn’t hurt you to miss a few meals,” said Rakkim, “but you’ll eat. You’ll be surprised how hungry you are the first time you sit down. After seeing what I did, you’ll feel like there’s a hole inside you and all the food in the world will barely fill it. You’ll be shoveling it in with both hands.”

“I doubt it.”

Rakkim hummed along to the song in his head. He knew the melody but didn’t know the words. He wished he could remember where he had heard it before.