Larry Richards knew he was totally fucked if this got back to Zenith City. Knew he was dependent on Frank Ford’s discretion on this one. Wheeling the big Lincoln across the hardpan, his coke-and-booze-and-speed-fueled eyes were cutting through the dust and the darkness but maybe seeing things that weren’t really there.
Hard to say what was real and what wasn’t, at the moment. But as long as he kept moving, nothing was going to touch him. Which, he realized, was now part of his personal philosophy. You keep moving forward—or moving in any direction—you never have to stop and think. Never have to consider what your life is becoming.
What you are becoming….
A sycophant for Parker and Cook?
And to a lesser extent, the other members of the consortium?
The other members were not due for a Rancho Deluxe gathering until late October, unless the Valley of the Sun mall project moved along faster than originally anticipated.
Something Larry very much hoped would come to pass.
All of the ass kissing and the shit eating would be worth it when the project broke ground.
But why did Frank have to choose now to play hard ass?
It was well known back home that Frank had signed on to the whole sex and drugs scene, so he had no business playing holier-than-thou. He’d spent ten years working the bar at the old Metropole for God’s sake—a dump and a half if there ever was one—and a notorious source of illegal drugs.
So there you go.
No nobility in that.
And now he decides to get all righteous.
Man needs to loosen up and ease off, get the stick out of his ass.
Tonight’s events had brought to mind a night in high school when Frank stopped Billy Flint from jumping Debby Morrison’s bones because Debby was too drunk on sloe gin to know what was happening. Billy got a little upset and got up in Frank’s face but Frank just stood there glaring—kind of like he did to Bryce and Clayton in front of the Neon Cactus—and Billy backed off and said something lame, like I was just trying to make sure she was comfortable, Frank.
Frank coming back with a Frank Ford classic: “Comfortable with your dick in her snatch, Billy?”
To which Billy did not verbally respond, instead sheepishly returning to his beer and cigarettes and avoiding Frank for the rest of the night.
Pretty much for the rest of high school.
And would you look at Frank in the backseat now, eyes closed, head leaning against the door.
Man seems peaceful and content.
But every time the girl starts nodding off and Clayton moves in on her, Frank’s eyes pop open and he gives Clayton that death stare and then Clayton breaks out the coke and gives the girl a blast and takes two for himself, his eyes all wild and bugging out. You can see he’s getting ticked but Frank is just too stern and tough looking for Clayton to start anything.
At least in the car.
Rancho Deluxe might be a different story. They don’t call him “Crazy Clayton” for nothing.
Fuckin’ Frank could do a lot of damage to his plans, Larry thought as he stared into the glow of the headlights. This story would spread like wildfire in the east end of Zenith City. Should Frank decide to disseminate the tale to someone back home, Larry’s sterling reputation would get a bit of tarnish, to say the least. Also his parents’ unwavering admiration for their high-achieving son would take a serious hit. The tale likely to put Larry’s reputation in the shitter for all time. But Frank’s interference with the boys’ playtime tonight could also hit Larry right in the here and now. Right in the fucking wallet. He’d already kind of breached the consortium code of conduct by bringing Frank to Rancho Deluxe in the first place, so…
Could the mall project get underway without Larry’s input and energy?
Probably.
And all they had up to this point was a verbal agreement.
So once Larry brought the local players into the mix and introduced them to any of the consortium members, it would be an easy step to cut him out of the deal and find some local lawyer willing to work on the cheap.
Type of thing the Parker family was famous for, according to the stories.
Clayton probably, too, but Larry didn’t know much about the Cook family’s business ethics. But he had his suspicions.
Nevertheless, he’d hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
His longtime motto.
He had to make the rest of tonight go smoothly or risk losing everything.
Couldn’t go back to live in Denver now—Katrina Reynolds’ murder had made that perfectly clear.
Arizona would have to be his new home.
At least until something better came along.
(End of Chapter 28)
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