moment.
“Come on,” T.Z. said softly. He put a hand on Les’s shoulder. “Even if you don’t want to help us out, you can at least be nice to your brother, can’t you?”
Les knew he was being manipulated. T.Z. was so good at that. His sad gaze. His gentle voice. His need. T.Z. could manipulate woman or man when he wanted to, and right now he wanted to.
Les nodded to the bartender for a beer, waited for his mug, and then picked it up and went over and sat down.
Neely said, “You like it here?”
“Cedar Rapids?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Actually, it looks like a nice-people little town.”
“It is.” It was difficult with Neely to keep a defensive tone from your voice. Neely always made you feel you had to apologize for existing. He was smart-smarter than most people, that was for sure -and he never let you forget it.
“Hey, Les, ease down. I’m not being sarcastic. I spent the day walking around. You didn’t see me-but I was there when you were pitching that scrimmage game and I-well, I was there when you went for a ride with Susan.”
Before Les could get angry again, T.Z. said, “So you’re pitching again?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad that had to happen and all. In Chicago, I mean.”
“I just got-scared.”
For once T.Z.’s smile seemed genuine. “You were like that when you were a little kid. You’d want something and then just before you got it-you got scared. Like you didn’t deserve it or something.” T.Z.’s voice was not without a certain sadness. “Where me-I just took the things I wanted.”
Neely said, “I’m really happy that you two want to talk about the old days. But we’re here on business, T.Z.” He looked at Les. "T.Z.’s wanted for murder.”
T.Z. slammed his fist on the table. “God, Neely, you promised-”
“The kid should know the truth.”
Les just sat there, stunned. “Murder?”
He had long ago accepted the reality of his brother being a thief. But T.Z. and Neely usually managed to keep their robberies to small-town banks and to cheating traveling businessmen out of their money and working vast scams on groups of greedy suckers.
“What happened?”
“Train,” Neely said.
“You stuck up a train?”
“Yes,” Neely said, and for the first time he sounded defensive.
“God,” Les said.
“You know all the trouble that goes with that.” Neely leaned forward. “Well, your brother let his mask slip. I thought I’d killed the only man who could identify him, but somebody else saw us as we escaped-” He pulled a folded-up sheet of paper from his pocket. Handed it to Les. It was a wanted poster. $5000 Cash was being offered by the railroad for the apprehension. Dead or Alive, of this man for whom the poster had no name. Fortunately for T.Z., at the time he was seen escaping the train, he’d been wearing a beard.
“But you just said you killed him,” Les said to Neely.
“I did. But it doesn’t matter which one of us actually killed him. We’ll both hang if they catch us.”
“We need money,” T.Z. said. “We need to go to Mexico. Hide out there for a few years.”
“What about the money from the train?”
A cruel smile touched Neely’s lips. “T.Z. here seemed to be of the mind that a certain diamond shipment was being sent from Chicago to Sterling.” Neely shook his head. “Seems T.Z. was wrong.”
“We didn’t get much of anything,” T.Z. said.
“Then we heard from Oubbins-remember him? He happened to be riding the rails when he spotted you in Cedar Rapids. Working in a bank no less,” Neely said. “So-we came here to see you.” He leaned forward, half whispered, “We figured the way we covered for you the last time you worked in a bank, you’d be
“Come on,” T.Z. said softly. He put a hand on Les’s shoulder. “Even if you don’t want to help us out, you can at least be nice to your brother, can’t you?”
Les knew he was being manipulated. T.Z. was so good at that. His sad gaze. His gentle voice. His need. T.Z. could manipulate woman or man when he wanted to, and right now he wanted to.
Les nodded to the bartender for a beer, waited for his mug, and then picked it up and went over and sat down.
Neely said, “You like it here?”
“Cedar Rapids?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Actually, it looks like a nice-people little town.”
“It is.” It was difficult with Neely to keep a defensive tone from your voice. Neely always made you feel you had to apologize for existing. He was smart-smarter than most people, that was for sure -and he never let you forget it.
“Hey, Les, ease down. I’m not being sarcastic. I spent the day walking around. You didn’t see me-but I was there when you were pitching that scrimmage game and I-well, I was there when you went for a ride with Susan.”
Before Les could get angry again, T.Z. said, “So you’re pitching again?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad that had to happen and all. In Chicago, I mean.”
“I just got-scared.”
For once T.Z.’s smile seemed genuine. “You were like that when you were a little kid. You’d want something and then just before you got it-you got scared. Like you didn’t deserve it or something.” T.Z.’s voice was not without a certain sadness. “Where me-I just took the things I wanted.”
Neely said, “I’m really happy that you two want to talk about the old days. But we’re here on business, T.Z.” He looked at Les. "T.Z.’s wanted for murder.”
T.Z. slammed his fist on the table. “God, Neely, you promised-”
“The kid should know the truth.”
Les just sat there, stunned. “Murder?”
He had long ago accepted the reality of his brother being a thief. But T.Z. and Neely usually managed to keep their robberies to small-town banks and to cheating traveling businessmen out of their money and working vast scams on groups of greedy suckers.
“What happened?”
“Train,” Neely said.
“You stuck up a train?”
“Yes,” Neely said, and for the first time he sounded defensive.
“God,” Les said.
“You know all the trouble that goes with that.” Neely leaned forward. “Well, your brother let his mask slip. I thought I’d killed the only man who could identify him, but somebody else saw us as we escaped-” He pulled a folded-up sheet of paper from his pocket. Handed it to Les. It was a wanted poster. $5000 Cash was being offered by the railroad for the apprehension. Dead or Alive, of this man for whom the poster had no name. Fortunately for T.Z., at the time he was seen escaping the train, he’d been wearing a beard.
“But you just said you killed him,” Les said to Neely.
“I did. But it doesn’t matter which one of us actually killed him. We’ll both hang if they catch us.”
“We need money,” T.Z. said. “We need to go to Mexico. Hide out there for a few years.”
“What about the money from the train?”
A cruel smile touched Neely’s lips. “T.Z. here seemed to be of the mind that a certain diamond shipment was being sent from Chicago to Sterling.” Neely shook his head. “Seems T.Z. was wrong.”
“We didn’t get much of anything,” T.Z. said.
“Then we heard from Oubbins-remember him? He happened to be riding the rails when he spotted you in Cedar Rapids. Working in a bank no less,” Neely said. “So-we came here to see you.” He leaned forward, half whispered, “We figured the way we covered for you the last time you worked in a bank, you’d be
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