Out of Sight

Six UDDY SAID HE forgot she had a piece in there-all that was going on-even saw her throw it back in the trunk when she brought out the shotgun. He said to Foley they may as well leave her, they were leaving the car and had to leave her someplace anyway, what was the difference where?

It was already set in Foley's mind she was going with them.

He wasn't finished talking to her. He wanted to sit down with her in a nice place and talk like regular people. Start over, let her get a look at him cleaned up. Even if he had time he wouldn't be able to explain why he wanted to talk to her some more, that wasn't clear in his mind, so all he said was, "She's going with us."

Buddy gave him a fu

"Get the shotgun," Foley said, "and her purse. I'd like to know who she is."

"I already looked," Buddy said.

"Her name's Karen Sisco, like the Cisco Kid only spelled different, S-i-s-c-o."

Foley said, "Karen Sisco," nodding a couple of times.

I wonder if she's ever called that, the Sisco Kid."

Headlights would come at them from the direction of West Palm and they'd keep to the narrow space between the car and the concrete abutment of the overpass. A sheriff's office green and-white went screaming past, gum balls flashing, then another one and another, a string of green-and-whites in the space of a minute, going out to chase after escaped convicts.

No time for a car sitting dark under an overpass.

When the road quieted down Foley stepped up to the Chevy's trunk, keeping to the side of it, and banged on the sheet metal once with his fist.

"Karen? Be a good girl now, you hear? I'm go

Foley jumped at the sound of a pistol shot, muffled from inside the trunk but real, the bullet ripping through metal.

He yelled at her, "You're putting holes in your car!" and looked up to see Buddy, with the shotgun and a black leather handbag, staring at him.

Foley took a moment to settle down before saving, "We're not leaving you. I'm go

Okay? You shoot-Buddy's got your shotgun, he says he'll shoot back if you do and I can't stop him.

So it's up to you." Foley put his hand out and Buddy, still looking at him fu

They heard a voice yell "Hey!" Not from the trunk, a clear sound coming from somewhere above them.

"It's me, Gle

Foley stepped out in the open, Buddy close behind. They looked up to see a figure, head and shoulders against the evening sky, leaning on the concrete overpass rail.

"Hey, Jack, good to see you, man. The fuck're you guys shooting at?"

Buddy raised his voice saying, "We'll be there in a minute."

"I don't mean to complain," Gle

Foley looked at Buddy.

"Do we need him?"

"Three green-and-whites saw us," Buddy said.

"One of 'em starts thinking, What's that car doing there? Ties it to the break and turns around… We got to get out of here."

Foley, looking up at the overpass again, said, "Hey, Studs?" sounding surprised.

"We thought you were somebody else."

Gle

"Man, I haven't heard that since Lompoc."

Foley waited.

Gle

"I'm risking my ass for you and I don't even know why."

"Sure you do," Foley said, making the effort to sound pleasant.

"We're your heroes."

He walked back to the Chevy and banged on the trunk.

"You coming out?"

Foley stuck the key in the lock, standing right in front of the trunk, and turned to Buddy. Buddy walked up to the trunk and racked the pump on the shotgun. Foley said, close to the sheet metal, "You hear that?"

He turned the key and raised the trunk lid.

Karen, hunched in there, extended her arm, her hand holding the Sig Sauer auto by the barrel. She said, "You win, Jack."

Buddy gave him another fu

If he leaned out over the rail Gle

Jesus, a girl. Standing by the car now smoothing her skirt, touching her hair. Guy busts out of stir and picks up a girl?

Now they were crossing the ditch into weeds and some bushes; he wouldn't see them again until they came up the grade. Or, she worked at the prison and Foley grabbed her, used her as a shield going out.

Gle

Or, Buddy brought her for Foley and he was so horny he couldn't wait, gave her a jump in the trunk of the car. Not in the backseat with Buddy watching. It was a possibility. Except these two guys never lost their cool or acted crazy.

Gle

See if that impressed them.

Foley said between him and Buddy they'd boosted three to four hundred cars in their time, but never sold any or kept them for more than a couple of hours.

These were cool guys for hicks, both fairly tall and stringy, Buddy with dark curly hair that was always slicked back-he kept a comb in his pocket-and looked wet. Foley's light-brown hair was short and thick enough he could do okay combing it with his fingers. Foley smoked cigarettes, Buddy dipped Skoal, stuck it behind his lower lip. They didn't seem in great shape-they'd rather watch than work out-but both had that hard-boned look, like they'd worked construction or in oil fields all their lives instead of robbing banks. Easygoing but looked you right in the fucking eye when you spoke to them or they had something to say.

Gle

Gle

This was when they started calling him Studs.

One day in the yard Gle