“I’m not willing to take that chance. Now, for the last time, take care of what you should have taken care of in the beginning.”
“Or what? You going to come down here and kill me? Bring it on, big boy. I’m not any more afraid of you than I am of anyone else. You know damned good and well I’m not afraid to die.”
“Listen to yourself,” Pappy said. “We’ve been through a lot together, you and me. You helped me out a bunch, and I’ve helped you out a bunch. But this is serious shit, Darren. This could be the difference between staying out of prison and going back in for life. Fairchild will be dead in the next three to four hours. That rat in Cowen will be dead within a week. I expect the bartender to be dead, too. If you don’t take care of it, I’ll do it myself, but there will be consequences.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I said. “I owe you money, and I owe you my gratitude. But I’m not killing him. You’re wrong about him needing to die. And if you kill Fairchild in the next three or four hours, don’t you think the cops will be all over Sammy? They’ll have his place staked out. I’ll walk right into a buzz saw.”
“Figure something out,” Pappy said.
“No. I’m staying here. I’m not killing him.”
“I hate to hear that,” Pappy said. “I guess I’ll be seeing you before long.”
The call disconnected, and I called a different cab company to come and pick me up. While I was waiting, I tried to figure out what I should do. Somebody would be coming to pick up Pappy’s car soon, I was certain of that. I could wait and find out who the person was, maybe take a photo, but I didn’t think it would do me any good. I could call the cops anonymously and tell them the car was about to be used in a murder, but the prison code was still ingrained in me. I just couldn’t turn myself into a rat. Then something dawned on me, and I started searching on my phone for a number for Sammy’s in Cowen, West Virginia. I had a phone number in just a couple of minutes. I went back to the hotel, waited until ten o’clock, and dialed the number.
“Sammy’s,” said a voice on the other end. I knew it was him.
“Do you recognize my voice?” I said.
“What?”
“Do you recognize my voice?”
“No.”
“Good. I was at your place a while back. I asked you if you loved your mother. Took care of some business.”
He was silent for several seconds, and then he said, “What do you want?”
“There’s a man that wants to kill you. He’s headed that way. He’ll probably try when you walk out to your car at closing time.”
“What? Why? Why would anyone want to kill me? I ain’t done nothing to nobody.”
“A state trooper up there named Grimes has told some people you’re going to testify against me if they arrest me, that you can identify me. Is that true?”
“I ain’t told him nothing.”
“You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter. There was another man involved in this with me, and he doesn’t want to go to jail. He’s willing to kill people to stay out, and you’re one of the people he’s after. I tried to talk him out of it, but he’s on his way up there right now. You need to do whatever you need to do to stay out of his way.”
“But . . . but . . . what do I do? Oh Lord, mister. I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.”
“Either wait for him with that sawed-off shotgun you were telling me about or call your buddy Grimes. I could’ve just let him kill you, but you did me a favor. I wish you’d kept your mouth shut, but you didn’t. So now we have to deal with the situation as it is. I’m giving you fair warning about what’s coming. Up to you to figure out what to do. And I’d appreciate it if you’d tell Grimes you’ve changed your mind about being able to identify me.”
I hung up the phone, and a pang of guilt hit my stomach. I hadn’t exactly ratted Pappy out, but I’d warned his victim that he was coming. I had no doubt Sammy would call Grimes, and that something bad would happen at Sammy’s bar later that night.
I had no idea how it would turn out. All I could do was wait.
CHAPTER 53
Pappy was still fuming as he rolled the Ford Focus off the interstate into Charleston, West Virginia. He had been a shot caller on federal maximum security prison yards for years, and he wasn’t used to people refusing to do what he told them to do. So when Darren refused, Pappy took it as a slap in the face. Darren had disrespected him, and being disrespected was the ultimate insult in the eyes of an inmate. Pappy was no longer an inmate, but as far as he was concerned, the rules still applied: you disrespect him, you pay the price.
Right now, though, he needed to deal with Rex Fairchild. Pappy didn’t know whether Fairchild had ratted him out to the cops or whether he’d done what he said and told the cops to go to hell, but Fairchild had simply become too much of a liability. One of the first rules of dealing drugs was to stay out of your own product. It was a rule to which Pappy had adhered strictly throughout his adult life. He’d never used any drug, not even marijuana. He drank a little beer once in a while, but never to excess. He didn’t smoke cigarettes, but he’d made about three million selling them in prison over the twelve years he was inside. Pappy chuckled to himself. Were it not for the fact that he was a drug-dealing criminal, a sociopath, maybe a psychopath, and a killer, he’d be a stand-up citizen. But Fairchild? He’d crossed the line. Not only had he hidden his drug addiction from Pappy, but he’d kept using after Pappy told him to quit, and then he’d gotten busted with an ounce of powder coke on him. Pappy knew an ounce of powder wasn’t that big of a deal as far as being a serious crime, but he was worried that Fairchild’s addiction to the drug would eventually loosen his lips.
It was the day after Christmas, a Wednesday, and Pappy thought Fairchild’s car lot might be open for business. He’d just been busted and would need money to pay his bondsman and a lawyer. Pappy knew Fairchild’s old man helped him out a lot, but he didn’t think Daddy would be in a very generous mood after the latest cocaine bust. Pappy drove by the car lot and saw that it was, indeed, open.
It was ten thirty in the morning, and a cold, steady drizzle was falling. Pappy didn’t see any customers on the lot. He’d done his Google Maps reconnaissance back in Cincinnati and turned onto Thirty-Sixth Street SE and parked in a corner of the Kanawha Elementary School lot. School was out, and Pappy didn’t believe there would be security cameras that covered that part of the lot. Even if a camera covered the area, he was wearing a disguise and had a long overcoat with a hood and a stocking cap in the back seat. The tag on his car couldn’t be traced back to him. He reached into the back and grabbed the overcoat and the stocking cap.