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He redoubled his paddling, headed for the riverbank.
“Watch it!” screamed Co
The tow truck had backed up too fast, bumped the Plymouth. The driver was a sticklike man with an overbite and springy red hair on his chin. He wore a dirty undershirt and a cap with a Rebel flag patch.
He stuck his head out the window of the tow truck. “I know what I’m doing. Take it easy.” He pulled the truck up and backed in again several times before he was satisfied. He got out of the truck, carrying two fistfuls of heavy chains.
Fat Otis stood behind Co
“Can’t they flush it out or something?”
Otis shrugged. “Do I look like a mechanic?”
“I can tow it to the garage,” the driver said. “Have one of the boys take a look at it.”
Co
“Come on,” Otis said. “I’ll give you a ride. What you got in the garbage bag? Dry clothes?”
“Something I want to show Rocky.”
Co
After sealing the card and the letter into a garbage bag and calling Otis on the cell phone, Co
“Uh-huh. Well, I got to put a towel down or something,” Otis said. “I don’t want you dripping on my seats.”
They got into the yellow Lincoln, started driving.
A long silence stretched.
“Otis, can I ask you a question about Rocky?”
“You can ask.”
“Why do they call him Rocky Big? I mean, he seems more like a Lionel or a De
Otis half smiled. “Well, you seen him, right? I mean, he ain’t exactly anybody that anybody else would be scared of, is he? So he made up that name, helps keep the reputation alive.”
“Ah.” Co
Finally, Co
Otis sighed, considered before answering. “Rocky and I go way back. He helped me when nobody else would, when I had no family, no friends, nothing. He gave me a chance when all my other chances was used up. What else a black man my size go
Co
From his shrubby hiding place, Itchi watched Samson and the big black guy leave in the old automobile. He waited a moment, watched the tow truck driver attach the chains to the Plymouth. Itchi looked around, determined he and the driver were alone and isolated.
He stood and walked fast straight for him. The driver looked up at the last minute, mild surprise across his face.
“Hey, what are you doing-”
Itchi chopped open-handed across the man’s throat. The driver’s eyes bugged. He choked, gasped for air, clutched at his throat. Itchi grabbed the driver’s head and chin, jerked sharply. The driver’s neck snapped, eyes rolling back in his head.
Itchi caught the limp body, went through the pockets, and found the truck keys before letting it drop. He unchained the Plymouth and planted a solid kick on the bumper.
The axles creaked. The car rolled forward. It slowly slipped back into the river, rolled and rolled until it went under. A single air bubble floated to the top and popped.
Itchi jumped into the tow truck and cranked the engine. He found his way to the road, engine roaring as he poured on the speed. In a few minutes the yellow Lincoln was in sight.
Itchi took out his cell phone and dialed Toshi. “Boss? Yeah, it’s me. I’m on Samson’s tail right now. No problems at all. It’s all going like clockwork.”
33
Otis dropped Co
“You’re not coming in?” Co
“Shit,” Otis said. “My ride smells like swamp water. I’m heading to the car wash.” He drove away.
They knew Co
Co
“You’re all wet,” Rocky said.
“Yeah. Long story.”
Rocky picked up his phone, pushed a button. “Julie, can we get a couple of towels in here? Thanks, dear.”
Co
Rocky do
“A baseball card and a letter from Marilyn Monroe.”
“Is that something good?”
Co
Rocky picked up the phone, asked the person on the other end to get him his “associate in Chicago.”
Rocky put his hand over the phone, handed Co
Co
He ran into Julie on the way down the hall. She was thin and pale, pencils stuck in her wad of dishwater hair. She handed Co
The map led Co