Read Online Dark and Bloody Ground by Darcy O'Brien - Free Book Online
Authors: Darcy O'Brien
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little doubt when he had asked Mrs. Davis to drive him to Kentucky that she would not hesitate to do him the favor. She was down in Okeechobee that week to see about putting a new roof on the motel, which was in need of several repairs.
As it turned out, Lillian Davis was required to do more for Lester than drive him home. He arrived at her door dripping with sweat. Breathing hard, he locked the door behind him and announced that he was being watched. He showed her the pistol he was carrying in a paper sack and the Uzi in a shopping bag. He needed a drink.
Within minutes a woman was on the phone asking for Lester Burns.
“You better have it this time!” Lester shouted into the phone. “I am not driving all the way back there unless I’m getting my money, you hear? All right. This is absolutely your last chance. Where are you?”
When he hung up, Lester asked Lillian to drive him to Orlando the next day. He did not want to go alone; he might need both hands free in case trouble started. These were not nice people he was dealing with. He told her who they were and that he needed help to collect part of his fee tomorrow.
It was not how Lillian Davis had planned to spend her Sunday, but she agreed. They were on the road to Orlando by noon, Lillian behind the wheel of her black Bronco, Lester beside her with the Uzi at his feet and the .41 Magnum shoved into the side pocket of the door. From time to time Lester sipped from a bottle and chewed aspirins.
Carol and the others had switched motels. Lester directed Lillian to the Days Inn and told her to circle the parking lot twice, as he tried to spot FBI agents. Then he told her to park as close as she could to 121, a ground-floor room.
Lillian stayed in the car as Lester knocked on the door of the room and went inside. When he returned and climbed back into the car, he told her to wait. Carol Epperson was coming out with his money. Lester inspected the pistol and made sure that it was loaded. Lillian pointed out a rather short middle-aged woman standing a few doors down with a younger dark-haired woman; they appeared to be watching. Lester said that they were Donald Bartley’s mother and sister.
Carol came out of her room carrying something wrapped in white motel towels. She climbed past Lester into the back seat, and he closed the door and locked it. Carol unwound the towels and let Lester peek into a paper sack that was filled with stacks of bills secured with rubber bands.
“I understand that this is my fee, ninety thousand dollars,” Lester said, lying to conceal the actual amount from Lillian.
“No,” Carol said. “There’s more than that. It’s all there.” She spoke rapidly, complaining about two men who were out by the motel pool watching her.
Lester told Carol to get out of the car. He would see her in Somerset in a few days, he said. In the meantime, she should stay out ofsight and off the highway and be careful. He would be in touch with her.
Lillian threw the Bronco into reverse and screeched the tires. Lester told her for God’s sake to cool it and act perfectly normal. He wrapped the sack back up in the towels, put it under his feet next to the machine gun, and instructed Lillian not to exceed the speed limit on the way to Okeechobee.
Lillian dropped Lester off at his house. Alone in his garage, he counted the money. There were thirty bundles of five thousand dollars each. He counted out ninety-two thousand and replaced that in the sack, wrapping it again in the towels. Then he hid the remaining fifty-eight thousand along with the other money in the trunk of the Corvette.
Back at Lillian’s duplex, Lester unwound the towels again and emptied the sack onto the floor and began counting the money, riffling through the stacks and dropping them as if he did not like touching them. Once or twice he went to the window and looked into the street. Lillian watched him count. He was acting paranoid, she said. She brought him a drink.
“Ninety-two
As it turned out, Lillian Davis was required to do more for Lester than drive him home. He arrived at her door dripping with sweat. Breathing hard, he locked the door behind him and announced that he was being watched. He showed her the pistol he was carrying in a paper sack and the Uzi in a shopping bag. He needed a drink.
Within minutes a woman was on the phone asking for Lester Burns.
“You better have it this time!” Lester shouted into the phone. “I am not driving all the way back there unless I’m getting my money, you hear? All right. This is absolutely your last chance. Where are you?”
When he hung up, Lester asked Lillian to drive him to Orlando the next day. He did not want to go alone; he might need both hands free in case trouble started. These were not nice people he was dealing with. He told her who they were and that he needed help to collect part of his fee tomorrow.
It was not how Lillian Davis had planned to spend her Sunday, but she agreed. They were on the road to Orlando by noon, Lillian behind the wheel of her black Bronco, Lester beside her with the Uzi at his feet and the .41 Magnum shoved into the side pocket of the door. From time to time Lester sipped from a bottle and chewed aspirins.
Carol and the others had switched motels. Lester directed Lillian to the Days Inn and told her to circle the parking lot twice, as he tried to spot FBI agents. Then he told her to park as close as she could to 121, a ground-floor room.
Lillian stayed in the car as Lester knocked on the door of the room and went inside. When he returned and climbed back into the car, he told her to wait. Carol Epperson was coming out with his money. Lester inspected the pistol and made sure that it was loaded. Lillian pointed out a rather short middle-aged woman standing a few doors down with a younger dark-haired woman; they appeared to be watching. Lester said that they were Donald Bartley’s mother and sister.
Carol came out of her room carrying something wrapped in white motel towels. She climbed past Lester into the back seat, and he closed the door and locked it. Carol unwound the towels and let Lester peek into a paper sack that was filled with stacks of bills secured with rubber bands.
“I understand that this is my fee, ninety thousand dollars,” Lester said, lying to conceal the actual amount from Lillian.
“No,” Carol said. “There’s more than that. It’s all there.” She spoke rapidly, complaining about two men who were out by the motel pool watching her.
Lester told Carol to get out of the car. He would see her in Somerset in a few days, he said. In the meantime, she should stay out ofsight and off the highway and be careful. He would be in touch with her.
Lillian threw the Bronco into reverse and screeched the tires. Lester told her for God’s sake to cool it and act perfectly normal. He wrapped the sack back up in the towels, put it under his feet next to the machine gun, and instructed Lillian not to exceed the speed limit on the way to Okeechobee.
Lillian dropped Lester off at his house. Alone in his garage, he counted the money. There were thirty bundles of five thousand dollars each. He counted out ninety-two thousand and replaced that in the sack, wrapping it again in the towels. Then he hid the remaining fifty-eight thousand along with the other money in the trunk of the Corvette.
Back at Lillian’s duplex, Lester unwound the towels again and emptied the sack onto the floor and began counting the money, riffling through the stacks and dropping them as if he did not like touching them. Once or twice he went to the window and looked into the street. Lillian watched him count. He was acting paranoid, she said. She brought him a drink.
“Ninety-two
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