51 -- Evicted

 

 

 "So where is he?" Lance mumbled, stiff from lying on the hard ground, pacing back and forth in front of the bushes which hid Marie. She, looked up from the grass, shaking her head slowly from side to side. Not bored exactly, but not happy either. Puzzled over something. Confused.

 "Has it been that long?" she asked in a vague voice.

 "Long enough," Lance said, his mind ticking through the progression of possible events. Could the Tinkertons have actually hurt him. They'd have been peeved, and a hundred years ago, might even have shot them all dead in the street like they had other outlaws. Perhaps they'd handed Bobo over to the police.

 But another possibility grew in Lance as the minutes ticked on, one less heroic, one that would have Dan at Lance's throat.

 "Come on," Lance said, grabbing Marie up by the hand.

 "Where are we going?"

 "To find Bobo."

 "But he said he would meet us here."

 "I know what he said. I just don't believe it. I think he split and I don't want to have to face Dan if he did."

 "But we can't go back to the house."

 "No, but we can look around the neighborhood. Where ever Bobo went, he did so on foot."

 "He could have taken a cab."

 "No," Lance said. "At least not right away. My impression is that he doesn't live far enough for that. And I think he might head for the Boulevard. He likes to keep in touch with things, and he'd stick out less on the crowded street than on dark side ones."

                                                                   ***********

 He could still smell the gun smoke and blood as they pulled into the driveway, and see the exploding face again and again in his mind.

 Buckingham's out to get you! Buckingham's out to... Bucking...

 Mike simply refused to accept Demetre's interpretation. There were no more heros. Not in the age of Nixon and Charlie Manson. Only small people, rubbing up against the machine, going mad with dreams of dreaming. Mike had been one of them. And been broken by it. Not quite able to get revenge, the way Demetre seemed to believe.

 No heros, and yet...

 "Mike," Dan said, the sound of something in his voice jerking up Mike's head. "I think there's something wrong."

 The van stopped short of the pile, headlights illuminating bits of familiar furniture, the bed from the back of the van, along with suitcases and backpacks, and boxes of clothes. A pyre of Lance's possessions waiting for a match.

 The old lady from the apartment below stepped out in front of the mess, shaking a finger at them. "Mr. Drummond?" she asked when she'd reached the driver-side window.

 "Afraid not, lady," Dan said, glancing darkly at Mike. "The last time I saw him he was upstairs."

 "Well, he isn't there now," the woman said coldly. "No one's upstairs any more."

 Dan's look grew more concerned. "I don't follow you."

 "We've evicted them," the woman said. "This is there stuff. And if you don't move it right now, we'll have it carted away for junk."

 "Look, lady," Mike said, leaning across the cab to see the woman. "We're only his friends."

 "Some friends. Hippies!" the woman said in disgust. "We thought they were a nice couple. A quiet couple. Otherwise we would never have rented to anyone so young. But we've had enough complaints and since they haven't paid their rent..."

 "We'll take the stuff," Dan said.

 "Dan!" Mike hissed. "It'll take us an hour to load all that in here. And with the way the engine's been acting up, the weight might just be the last straw."

 "Don't argue, Mike," Dan said, his gaze begging for Mike to agree.

 "All right," Mike mumbled. "But if the cops see us driving around like that, they'll think it all stolen."

 The woman stepped back into her doorway and watched as they lifted and loaded the stuff.

 "I don't get you," Mike said, huffing as they pushed the pieces of bedframe into the van, the old lady out of sight for the moment.

 "Don't you?" Dan said, leaning against the open door. "Then you're not thinking. Even if Lance wasn't my friend, there's something upstairs worth worrying over."

 "You mean to tell me the shipment's still up there?" Mike said in horror.

 "I packed it all in the refrigerator for safe keeping. It's the last place I figured he would think to look."

 "And the last place the old lady would look," Mike mumbled, wondering just how long it had been since Lance had left. The woman would have been in a hurry to get everything out before his return. The refrigerator and its contents could likely wait until later at her convenience.

 "Hey lady," Mike shouted and moved around the front of the van. The woman looked up sharply, alarm crossing her face. "We still have some stuff upstairs."

 The alarm shifted into suspicious indignity. "No you don't, young man," she said. "We cleaned everything out."

 "But not the refrigerator."

 Now, her gaze flickered with confusion. "The refrigerator? You certainly don't want the food back, too?"

 "It isn't food, it's medicine," Mike said.

 "Well, forget it. My son bolted the door closed, and I won't open it for anyone. You people have made enough of a mess up there. Broken walls, ruined rugs. I don't give you a chance for any more mischief. Get your stuff and go away before I call the police."

 "That tells us," Dan said and coughed, when Mike had circled the van again. "But we can't leave the dope. It's worth a fortune and perhaps even my hide."

 "If it's still there."

 "Why wouldn't it be?" Dan asked, his brown eyes suddenly looking panicked.

 "For the same reason the others aren't around," Mike said, gaze studying the apartment's balcony which hung over the top of the van. "Where are they?"

 "She must have thrown them out," Dan said.

 Mike shook his head. "I don't think so. I have a feeling she snuck in when they weren't around."

 "But why would they leave? We told them to stay."

 "Exactly my point. Come on. Let's finish loading this stuff, then we'll worry about getting the dope."

 "But she said she bolted the door," Dan said.

 Mike looked at Dan's face, half of it lost in the shadow of the hat, the other half distorted by the odd reflection of house and van lights. "I've never been bolted out of an apartment in my life. I don't think this one'll be much different."

 Dan grinned, and both hurried the loading of Lance's possessions, the old woman circling around to watch them more closely, her arms folded across her chest, her face smug with the indignant air of an offended witch.

 

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