Chapter 12
"Shit," Geech said. "This can't be it, man. Two, three stores and a post office."
Scarpo climbed out of the old Chevy. "Got a couple gas stations, too. And this is it, says so on the post office-Shuba. You got your cover story, so when we go in, you do most of the talking."
"Yeah." Geech passed a hand over his black, wavy hair. "I'm the dumb husband let his chick run out on him, came all this way to find her and say I'm sorry. You're her old man, come to help me. We don't know where she and her kid sister are, but we'd really appreciate help finding them."
Scarpo nodded. "You got it cold. Try in there first."
"You think they got a cold beer anywhere in this ten-cent town?"
"After," Scarpo said, and led the way into the semi-cool of the post office. He stood aside while Geech ran through his story, and put in a word from time to time.
But when they ran down, the hillbilly behind the grilled window said, "Ain't seen nobody like that and can't help you none."
Out on the sidewalk again, Geech said, "Think that bastard's lyin' ? I can go back and ping-pong him off the wall a few times."
Shaking his bald head, Scarpo said, "Down the street-the grocery. Get a cold beer or a coke; act a little more worried. Maybe your wife's got a sick kid back home that needs her bad."
In one of the general stores, they practiced the new story on an old lady clerk, and she said, "Seen two women a spell back get offn the Greyhound. Didn't come in here, though; maybe they went across the road to Ebben's. Sorry I can't help you no more'n that."
"Come on," Geech said, "let's go over there; now we know they stopped off here."