Free Love Me and Die by Louis Trimble

this rig? I have the keys.”
    Her face appeared framed in the window. “I found Art’s keys to it,” she said. “I was hunting through his suitcase for clues—” She broke off and hiccoughed. ”
Chingada!”
she added sadly.
    I left her and loped to the Mercedes. I slid behind the wheel and started the motor. I backed around and aimed down the road. I was in a hurry. I finally had an excuse to use a little of that power under the hood.
    I used all I dared. I slowed down once, to make the right turn onto the road running into Lozano. The way the Mercedes cornered told me I needn’t have bothered. I opened it up again.
    It was eight minutes after ten when I slowed down a block from the motel. I cut the lights. There were no cars parked along the street. I slid to the curb a quarter block from the driveway. I walked up to the motel.
    The driveway was empty too. I stopped by a big saguaro cactus at the edge of the drive and looked up toward Unit 7. Its garage was empty.
    I decided Toby Jessup was going to be a little late. I crossed the lawn to the door of Unit 7. I opened it and went in. I checked the draperies and then turned on the light. I looked around.
    The redhead hadn’t disturbed anything but the body. Her imprint was still on the bedspread. Her rum glass was on the night stand. I took it and washed it. I emptied the ashtrays and the cigarette butts that were in a wastebasket into the toilet and flushed them out of sight. I took a towel and did the job I had told the redhead to do. I wiped everything that might hold a fingerprint.
    I stopped as I heard a car motor approach. I went to the front window and pulled the draperies apart slightly. The car was an ancient coupe. It went on past. One taillight showed white where the glass was broken out. I dropped the drapery into place and returned to my house cleaning.
    I made a final check and decided there was nothing in here to point to Art or the redhead or me. I put the towel back in the bathroom. I heard another car, this one throatier and more powerful sounding. I trotted to the window and pulled aside the drapery. A pale-colored Thunderbird went by. It slowed down and drifted out of sight. I could hear it backing and filling down the street. Then the motor died. A moment later Toby Jessup appeared, clipping down the sidewalk in a purposeful walk.
    She stopped a few feet from the big saguaro cactus. She turned in the direction of the motel. She seemed to be looking for something.
    I opened the draperies wider and let them come almost together. She shifted her big purse under her arm and started forward. She reached the cactus.
    A motor roared to life in the near distance. A car gunned into sight. It stopped with a squeal of brakes directly opposite Toby. I could see a face dimly framed in the window. I could see moonlight glittering on a gun barrel.
    I opened my mouth and yelled. My voice bounced off the window pane in front of me. I couldn’t hear any shots but I could see a piece of cactus explode and go spinning off into the air.
    Toby Jessup froze, one foot lifted to take a step. Her head made a slow turn toward the street. Another piece of cactus flew into bits.
    Toby Jessup went down on her face in the grass.
    The car gunned up and away. It was an old coupe. I saw its taillights disappearing. One was red. The other was white where the glass was broken out.

8
    I OPENED the door and ran outside. The area around the motel was strangely quiet. No one had come to see the cause of the shooting. I realized the sniper must have used a silenced gun.
    Toby Jessup jumped to her feet as I came close to her. She stared at me with the numbness of shock in her expression. She made a whimpering cry and began to run. She came toward me and then veered away. I reached for her and missed. I could hear her breathing in gusty, jerky sobs. She turned in the direction of the street. She didn’t act as if she had been hit by anything more deadly than shock.
    I went after her.