Read Online Big Trouble by Dave Barry - Free Book Online Page B

saying there’s two shooters, and our guy just walks away?”
    The three young men had stopped about eight feet from Henry, forming a triangle around him.
    â€œHang on a second,” Henry said. He dropped the piece of paper with the telephone number on it, then bent down as if to pick it up. Instead, he pulled the gun out of his ankle holster, straightened, and pointed the gun at the one of the three young men, who Henry figured was the leader, on the grounds that he was the nearest, plus he was wearing the biggest pants. Henry arched his eyebrows at him, letting him know, hey, not right now, OK?
    The leader nodded approvingly at the gun, at the general coolness of Henry’s move. He pivoted and walked casually back across Grand Avenue, followed by the other two young men.
    â€œHello?” said the voice on the phone.
    â€œOur guy didn’t walk away,” said Henry. “He more crawled away when this other shooter comes running up like he’s Geronimo, and then Geronimo gets jumped by the wife, and then the cops come.” Henry decided to leave out, for now anyway, the part where he lost his rifle to the guy from the tree.
    The phone was silent for a moment.
    â€œWe need to talk,” said the voice.
    â€œYou got that right,” said Henry.

    A police detective named Harvey Baker came and asked the Herks, several different ways, if they could think of any reason why anybody would want to shoot them. Anna had no idea. Arthur speculated that it was probably some fucking kids, because these fucking kids today, they all have fucking guns. Detective Baker did not believe that Arthur was telling him everything. He pointed out that the police could not protect people if the people didn’t cooperate. Arthur stated that he didn’t think the police could protect their own dicks with both hands. Detective Baker found himself developing a strong emotional bond with whoever had taken the shot.
    Nina was not helpful, either. Detective Baker, with Monica translating, made it clear that he was not interested in the legality of her residence in the United States, but she wanted no part of any police business. All she would say is that when she heard noise, she jumped out the window, ran across the yard, and hit the wall. She did not see anything; she did not hear anything. Nada.
    Detective Baker decided that this was probably going to be one of those cases where somebody shoots a gun and nobody ever finds out who or why, which is a fairly common type of case in Miami. To make Anna Herk feel better, he poked around the backyard a bit, aided by Roger, but he didn’t find, nor did he expect to find, any clues. He told the Herks that he would continue to investigate the shooting, which everybody understood to mean that he would not continue to investigate the shooting.
    Detective Baker decided not to arrest Matt, thanks in part to the pleading of Anna Herk, who felt really bad about having pounded Matt’s face into the floor. Detective Baker did, however, point out that creeping around people’s back-yards at night in Miami with what looked like a real gun was, no offense, dumber than dog shit. Matt assured the detective that he had learned this lesson.
    As soon as the police left, Arthur turned to Eliot and said: “Now you and your punk kid can get the fuck out of here and never come back.”
    â€œIt’s been a pleasure meeting you, too,” said Eliot.
    â€œI’ll walk you out,” Anna told Eliot. They headed for the foyer, with Matt, Jenny, and Roger trailing behind.
    Outside, Matt said, “I’ll go get the car.” To Jenny, he said, “Did you ever want to experience the thrill of riding in a genuine Kia?”
    â€œIt’s only a lifelong dream,” said Jenny, and they set off toward the gate, followed by Roger, in case they were going to get food.
    â€œSarcasm,” said Eliot. “I don’t know where they get it.”
    â€œ