O Is for Outlaw

so for all you know he's alive and well. You think you can make a charge like this without evidence? "
    "I have the snapshot. That helps."
    "Oh, that's right. The snapshot. What crap. I think I better call your bluff. You have it with you?"
    "I left it with a friend."
    Mark snapped his fingers. "I forgot about Benny's brother. What's his name again? Duffy. Carlin Duffy. Now, there's a bright guy."
    I said nothing.
    He went on. "My sources tell me he's living in a shack at Himes Nursery. With his criminal history, it should be easy enough to put the screws to him."
    "I thought you weren't worried."
    "Call it cleanup," he said.
    "Really. Now that you're running for public office, you have to bury your misdeeds, make sure the past won't rise up and bite you in the butt when you're least expecting it."
    He pointed at me. "Bingo."
    "Did you hate him that much?"
    "Duncan? I'll tell you what pissed me off about that guy. Not so much that he screwed Laddie the minute my back was turned, but he showed up at la Drang, trying to pass himself off as a grunt. I had buddies, good friends, young guys, who died with valor, brave men who believed in what we were doing. I saw them die in agony, maimed and mutilated, limbs gone, gutshot. Duncan Oaks was a sleaze. He had money and pretensions but not an ounce of decency. He deserved to die, and I was happy to help him out. Speaking of which, I'd like to have his personal effects."
    "Effects?"
    "Press pass, dog tags."
    "I can't help you there. You'd have to talk to Duffy about those things."
    From the depths of my shoulder bag, there was a small but distinct click as the tape ran out and the recorder shut itself off. Mark's gaze flicked down and then flicked up to my face. His smile faded, and I heard Laddie's sharp intake of breath. He held his hand out. "You want to give me that?"
    "Hey, Dad?"
    The three of us turned in unison. The Bethels' son, Malcolm, was standing in the door to the dining room.
    "What is it?" Mark said, trying not to sound impatient with the kid.
    "Can I take your Mercedes? I've got a date."
    "Of course."
    Malcolm continued to stand there. "I need the keys. "
    "Well, get a move on. We're in the middle of a conversation here," Mark said, waving him into the room.
    Malcolm shot me a look of embarrassment as he entered the room. Impatiently, Mark removed his keys from his pocket, twisting the key from the ring as he separated it from the others. Meanwhile, I was staring at the kid. No wonder the photographs of Duncan Oaks had seemed familiar. I'd seen him, or his incarnation, in Laddie's son. The same youth, the same dark, distinctly handsome looks. Malcolm, at twenty, was the perfect blend of Duncan at seventeen and Duncan at twenty-three. I turned to Laddie, who must have known the final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.
    She said, "Mark." He glanced at her, and the two exchanged a quick piece of nonverbal communication.
    "Where're you off to, Malcolm?" I said, ever the chipper one.
    "I'm taking my girlfriend to a kegger out on campus."
    "Great. I'm just leaving. I think I'll follow you out. I got lost coming in. Could you steer me in the right direction? "
    "Sure, no problem. I'll be happy to," he said.
    I kept a careful eye on the rear of Mark Bethel's black Mercedes as Malcolm drove slowly down the driveway ahead of me. In my rearview mirror, I saw another set of headlights come into view. Mark had apparently made a scramble for Laddie's BMW, a sporty red model perfect for a hit-and-run fatality or a high-speed chase. In front of me, Malcolm had just reached the gates, triggering the automatic mechanism buried in the drive. Slowly, the gates swung open. Out on the road, I spotted two Santa Teresa Sheriff's Department cars pulled onto the berm, lights flashing. Four deputies were in conversation with Detectives Claas and Aldo, who were just in the process of identifying themselves. Malcolm turned left onto Savanna and I followed in his wake. Detective Aldo caught my eye, but there was no way he could help until the deputies had finished with them. So much for Plan A.
    I checked the rearview mirror. Mark was so close on my tail, I could see the smirk on his face. I hugged the back end of the Mercedes, figuring Mark wouldn't ram me or shoot as long as Malcolm was close by. Maybe I'd accompany Malcolm and his girlfriend to the kegger out on campus, have a beer, shoot the shit, anything to avoid Mark. We passed a cemetery on the left and slowed at the