We were halfway through The Fugitive when we heard a shot outside.
‘What the hell—’ Jerry said, getting to his feet.
‘Easy,’ I said. ‘Don’t go runnin’ out there.’
Judy came hurrying out of her room. ‘Was that a shot?’ Her eyes were wide with fright.
‘Sounded like it,’ I said.
‘It was,’ Jerry said.
‘Couldn’t it have been a car backfiring?’
‘No chance,’ Jerry said. ‘Mr G., you better stay inside with Miss Garland. I’ll check it out.’ He had his .45 in his fist.
‘Eddie,’ she said, ‘you can’t let him go out there by himself.’
‘It’s OK, Miss Garland,’ Jerry said. ‘This is what I do.’
He headed for the door. I hurried around and caught him before he went out.
‘Somebody might be tryin’ to draw us out, Jerry,’ I said.
‘I’ll be careful.’
‘OK, but let me get the lights first so you’re not backlit.’
‘Good thinkin’, Mr G.’
I turned out all the lights in the room while instructing Judy to stay on the sofa. It was in the center of the room, away from the windows, and was probably the safest place – unless I stuck her under a bed.
‘Eddie—’ she said.
‘Shhh. Just stay.’
She shut up.
I went to the front door, then took a quick step to one side, just in case, and waited …
Jerry told me later when he walked outside, gun in hand, he paused only long enough for his eyes to get used to the darkness. Then he moved forward in a crouch, which I didn’t think would help him much. He moved to the end of the walk, where he could go either to the hotel lobby or to the street, and stopped to listen. He looked around, saw the hotel lights and heard low voices coming from there, but nothing else.
He moved toward the street, and the parking lot, where he assumed Boyd would have his car. The little PI had left some time ago, but he might have returned. Jerry would be able to spot his Corvette at a glance, if it was there.
It was.
‘Shit,’ he said under his breath. Why had Boyd come back? Or had he never left?
He moved into the parking lot, his head swiveling around, trying to look in every direction at one time. The parking lot seemed empty. Apparently, nobody else heard the shot, or they were simply not interested enough to come out and look.
Holding his .45 tightly, he moved toward the Corvette. All the doors were shut, but as he got closer he noticed a hole in the driver’s side window. A bullet hole. The window had not shattered, but the glass was starred, cracks spreading out from the hole. He moved in closer, grabbed the handle and opened the door …
I jumped when Jerry knocked on the door. I opened it to let him in. His face looked grave. He was upset.
‘Well?’
He looked over toward where Judy was seated.
‘Can we turn on a light?’ she asked.
‘Sure,’ I said.
She turned on a lamp near the sofa.
‘Miss Garland, maybe you should—’ Jerry started.
‘Come on, Jerry,’ she said. ‘We’re all in this together. What is it?’
He looked at me. ‘Boyd’s dead.’
There was a sharp intake of breath from Judy. When I looked at her, she had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were wet.
‘What happened?’
‘I guess he must’ve come back,’ Jerry said. ‘Somebody must’ve been watchin’ the parkin’ lot. They fired one shot through his window. The bullet hit him square in the head.’
‘Anybody else out there?’
‘No.’
‘No cops?’
‘No,’ Jerry said, ‘not yet, anyways. Somebody might’ve called ’em, but nobody came out to take a look.’
‘Christ,’ I said.
‘Is Kenny dead because of me?’ Judy asked.
‘No, no,’ I said, ‘of course not.’ I looked at Jerry. ‘This has to be because of me.’
Jerry looked me in the eye and held out a piece of paper. It was an envelope with Kenny’s name on it.
‘Turn it over.’
I did. Someone had written on the back: You’re just as dead as he is, you just don’t know it yet.
‘They must have gotten this from his glove compartment,’ Jerry said. ‘Somebody was calm enough to take the time to look for some paper and then write this note.’
‘A pro,’ I said.
He nodded.
‘I don’t know what this all means,’ Judy said.
‘It means,’ I said, ‘that we’re all going to Las Vegas.’
Jerry nodded his approval.