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“Marvin, at the store,” the voice said. “You gave me your number.”
The army veteran, I thought. “Right. What’s happening?”
“The guy—”
“I can’t hear you.”
“The guy you said . . . he was . . . didn’t know what kind of . . .”
“You’re breaking up, partner,” I said.
“My cousin saw . . . blue . . . the guy with . . . about three miles . . . help you.”
“Move to a different spot. I’m not reading you.”
“Three miles . . . the guy with the Florida . . . blue pickup truck . . . the guy . . . out and . . .”
“Hang up and call back. I’m going to move my truck.”
“I’ll . . . landline,” he said.
“Hello?”
The transmission went dead. I started the engine and began to drive down to the trees by the river so I could get under some cover that would deaden the sound of the rain and hail on my cab. Before I had driven ten yards, the cell phone rang again.
“It’s Marvin. I’m on the store phone now. Can you hear me, Mr. Robicheaux?”
“Yeah, but please repeat everything you said. Very little of it came through.”
“My cousin came into the store and said some guys in a white car with a Florida tag got into it with a guy driving a beat-up blue pickup. Behind the old creamery about two miles south of me. My cousin said he thought they were just talking, but when he looked in his rearview mirror, he could see they were arguing. It was starting to rain, and he didn’t see everything real good, but he thought a guy from the white car shoved the guy driving the pickup. My cousin thinks maybe the guy in the pickup was in deep shit. I don’t know if this is any help to you or not.”
“The guy in deep shit was driving a blue pickup truck?”
“That’s what my cousin said. The guy had black hair that was combed up on his head in a square. That’s how my cousin described it. He sounds like the guy you were looking for, doesn’t he?”
“You bet he does. Does your cousin know where any of these guys went?”
“No, sir. He felt it wasn’t his business, but then he got bothered about it. You know, two against one?”
“You did the right thing, and so did your cousin. Call me back if y’all see any of these guys again.”
“One other thing. My cousin said there was a van parked close by. He didn’t know if anybody was in it.”
“A cargo van?”
“He said a delivery van. Same thing, huh?”
“What color van?”
“He didn’t say. Sir, can you tell us what’s going on here?”
“When I figure it out, I’ll get back to you,” I replied.
“Where are you?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because to tell you the truth, I think you might be messing with some bad dudes. This place isn’t like the place I grew up in, Mr. Robicheaux.”
