Captains Outrageous: A Hap and Leonard Novel (6) (Vintage Crime/Black Lizard)
Joe R. Lansdale
Hap and Leonard is now a Sundance TV series.
Hap Collins and Leonard Pine find mucho trouble, this time in Mexico, when they come face to face with a nudist mobster, his seven-foot strong-arm, a octogenarian knife-touting fisherman, and, somehow, an armadillo.
When Hap Collins saves the life of his employer's daughter, he is rewarded with a Caribbean Cruise, and he convinces his best friend Leonard Pine to come along. However, when the cruise sails on without them, stranding them in Playa del Carmen with nothing but their misfortune and Leonard's new ridiculous hat, the two quickly find themselves drawn into a vicious web of sordid violence. When they return to East Texas, they find that trouble has beaten them back, and when trouble's around it doesn't take long for Hap and Leonard to find it.
love in small-town America.” — The New York Times “Lansdale has a zest for storytelling and a gimlet eye for detail.” — Entertainment Weekly “As funny as all get out.” — Sun-Sentinel (Fort Lauderdale) JOE R. LANSDALE Joe R. Lansdale is the author of more than a dozen novels, including Sunset and Sawdust, Lost Echoes, Leather Maiden, and Vanilla Ride. The Bottoms and Mucho Mojo were New York Times notable books. He has received the British Fantasy Award, the American Mystery
Ferdinand? He said he was coming.” “He always says that, but he does not come. He stays with the boat with José and his brothers. I think he likes it that way. He loves that boat. If he were coming, he would have come.” The van coughed and sputtered and rolled forward with a protesting lurch, banged into a couple of potholes, crunched gravel, and off we went. We drove along bad roads for an hour or so. It had grown very dark because clouds had bagged the moon. There was just the van’s
slept, dressed, went in to check on Leonard. He opened his eyes when I walked into the room. “Morning,” I said. “Morning. My, you look happy. Been poundin’ the possum, ain’t you?” “Now that you mention it, yes.” “I can always tell. You have that smug look and the eyes get hooded, like Robert Mitchum.” I sat on the edge of the bed. I said, “Now what?” “Well, now that you’ve had what you need, have taken advantage of a poor peasant girl—” “Hah.” “—I don’t think we want to stay here.” “Very
coating of it over what remained of my coffee. I leaned out of my chair, past the edge of the porch, and poured it in the dirt. Beatrice practically leaped from the car. Her hair was up. She wore jeans and an oversized red shirt with white deck shoes. There was a sweat line around her neck and sweat blooms under her arms. She saw us on the porch, sauntered over a little too casually. “How are you this morning?” she asked. We both answered in the affirmative. “And you?” I said. “Well enough.
water. She put the butt of the rod in the swivel. She took a beer from Jason and sipped it. Billy stood by her chair for a while; then, bored, he got another beer and sat on one of the benches built into the side of the boat. It was sticky and the bobbing of the boat no longer made me sick. It rocked me pleasantly. I watched Beatrice for a while as she reached inside her yellow bag beside the fighting chair, took out suntan lotion and began to apply it. I observed carefully as she rubbed it on