Bryce Parker was standing next to the driver’s door of the Lincoln with the keys in his hand. Cook and the girl were already in the backseat.
Parker, waving the keys, said, “Larry, you drive. Clayton and I will keep Evelyn company in the back.”
Frank squinted in at Cook and the girl.
Evelyn.
Cook was giving her another blast of coke. Her eyes were slits.
Coke usually makes your eyes look like saucers, if it’s any good, Frank thought. And the way the three stooges were acting, the shit must be pretty strong.
But the girl…
She was barely maintaining.
Frank glanced across the Lincoln’s roof at Parker. The man’s inference was clear: Larry and his unwanted friend ride up front and leave us to do our thing in the back.
“I can’t ride up there,” Frank said. “I get carsick. Be a shame if I tossed my cookies in the immaculate Continental.”
Parker’s eyes narrowed. “Only a short ride, man. Upholstery can be cleaned. Give the help something to do.”
Frank straightened himself and returned Parker’s narrow-eyed stare. “Very hospitable of you, Bryce. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not puke.”
Parker just stared, frowning a little.
Larry was behind the wheel now. Frank watched him lean across the seat and open the passenger door.
“C’mon Frank, get in, man,” Richards said. “I promise I’ll take it easy.”
Frank reached in and popped the lock on the rear door, giving Parker a final stare. “Hate to be a pain in the ass, gentlemen,” he said, “but there’s plenty of room in that backseat for four people. And one of them’s going to be me.”
He pulled open the suicide door and slid onto the dark leather, Evelyn looking at him, seemingly curious. At least as curious as someone in a drug stupor can look. Cook was grappling with a sneer. Frank shot him an eye dart and said, “S’all right, Clayton, not to worry. S’only a short ride. And I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
Clayton chuckled softly and looked away.
Parker bent over and peered through the window to the backseat and its occupants. He shook his head then walked around the car and got in the front seat, body language shouting, I’m pissed.
Frank saw the tightness grabbing Parker’s shoulders, thought it was funny.
You could cut the tension with a knife as Larry put the Lincoln in gear and headed for the open desert.
(End of Chapter 27)
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