Sally went frantic.
I walked in the door and explained everything. She handed me the file on the guy who wrote the note she found on my car. She was out of her comfort zone completely. It was almost as if worry was new to her and she didn’t fully understand what she was feeling.
“I can’t believe Belsay almost died.” She paced through the kitchen. “This is all my fault.”
“Frank doesn’t think so.” I said dryly. I sat at the dining table and read through the file of a man named Jeff Dimeglio. It was three pages of every sort of crime I could have thought of. “Why isn’t this guy serving life in prison?”
“Connections, I take it.” Sally made her way to stand behind me. She looked pale. Her fingers twitched steadily. I don’t think she realized it. “He’s a very dangerous man. Eye witnesses that swear to testify against him have come up missing. Judges don’t want to see him in their courtroom. And when he does go to trial, no matter the evidence stacked against him, he comes out clean as a whistle.”
“The man is untouchable.”
Sally went back to pacing. “I don’t like this. I have this feeling that something bad is going to happen. I need to talk to Frank. I need to see him.”
“Sally, he said he would call. Give him time.”
I read more of the file then pushed it towards the center of the table. Jeff Dimeglio was bad news. I understood where Sally’s worry stemmed from.
“What if there is no time?”
“Sally, I don’t even know where he is. He’s been through a lot today. He needs to hide out someplace through the weekend.”
I heard her whisper to herself, “If he loved me, he would have called.”
I was just about to offer to cook her something to eat when a hard rock song exploded from her cell phone. We both turned to look at the phone vibrating against the black granite countertop next to the sink. I saw her face lift then. She rushed to the phone and answered it with a desperate plea. “Frank? Are you alright?”
There was a short pause, she exhaled like Frank was fine, someplace safe. Which got me to thinking. Jeff Dimeglio had tracked me back to Sally’s home just to put a note on my car. Seeing how I did not meet his demands, there was no telling what he might do. Finding someplace safe of our own was probably in order.
Sally walked into her bedroom and shut the door. I thought it was the part of the conversation where they both got mushy and personal. Maybe it was the first time I love you came out from either one. Or both. I let her have her privacy. I made a chicken salad sandwich with Miracle Whip, not mayo. I hate mayo. I opened up a new bag of barbeque chips and wondered why it was half empty. I wondered why the supplier didn’t make a bag proportionate to the size they would be filling. It was a waste of material, I thought. As I sat at the table and ate like I was famished, I began thinking past my annoyance with half-empty chip bags to some more important issues. I knew I had at least two.
First was the real hitman. With a dangerous track record, it was going to be hard not to take his threat seriously. And I had no way of contacting him. It’s not like I could simply ask Palo for whatever number she had used to contact me previously. And I had no idea what he looked like. His file had no picture attached. Maybe it had printed but someone had taken the page. Maybe there was never one to begin with. Any way I looked at it though, this guy had the upper hand: he knew where I lived.
Second was the fact that sooner or later Andrik was going to want to see the girls. An inspection would be in order. They would have to be made ready for pick up, as he had said. I could lie to him all I wanted about having his list fulfilled and held in a place of my own choosing, but time would definitely run out. If I were going to make it through until Saturday night, I was going to need a plan for sure.
Sally’s bedroom door squeaked open and she walked back into the kitchen looking as if she had cried slightly, but overall that she was better than before. I love you was said. I gather it had been by him. She exhaled sharp, and looked at peace with the situation.
“How’s Frank?”
“Good. Belsay was checked into a hospital, under a false name, and has some bruising. They’re going to keep him overnight. Frank said he’d find a motel for the night, then check back in with Belsay tomorrow.”
“Good. They’ll be fine, Sally.” I finished eating. I put my plate in the sink. “We need to talk about us now.”
I sat back down. Sally pulled out a wooden chair and sat opposite me. She looked slightly confused.
“What about us?” she asked.
“What are we going to do? I don’t think we can stay here. Not with some maniac on the loose trying to play a revenge card on me.”
“So, what do you propose?”
“Get out of town. Maybe a hotel, like Frank and Belsay.”
Sally leaned back and folded her arms against her chest. Her face tightened.
“Sally, we can’t stay here.”
“This is my home. I will defend it to the death if I have to.”
“It just might come to that.”
“Let it come then.”
“Sally, we can’t-”
“Michael, listen to yourself. Talking about running away, hiding out from someone? I wear a badge. I took an oath to serve and protect. This is my home. I’ve done nothing wrong and I’m not going to be running away from someone like I have.”
“Did you read his report?”
“Of course.”
“And it doesn’t bother you that he’s a trained killer?”
“I have an arsenal of my own, thank you very much. I have had plenty of hours training for personal protection, Michael. I am not going anywhere. I’m not giving him the satisfaction of making me make a decision based on fear. We don’t even know where he is.”
“Exactly my point.” I sat back and sighed inwardly. There was no point in arguing with her. She was as stubborn as she was big. And I saw her point. She had plenty of training and there were several shotguns and handguns in her bedroom. We could hole up here for the night and let Jeff Dimeglio come and find us.
“Okay, Sally. I’m with you. We’ll stay.”
“You’re damn right,” she said hard. “I’ll take the first watch. You look dead tired. Go get some rest.”
I argued with her for a few moments about which one of us should do what, but in the end I gave in and went into the guest room and plopped onto the bed. My eyelids felt like concrete.
I was half in this world and half into a dream stage when I heard Sally enter the room, shuffle her hands under my pillow, and whisper something about a Glock being under my head. I didn’t catch it all. I didn’t want to. I could easily just have been dreaming the whole thing.
The last thing I remembered was thinking of Palo eating the Pretzel Bacon Cheeseburger.
It was midnight when Sally’s firm grasp of my shoulder woke me. I sprang upright instantly. The house was dark and real quiet. She stood beside the bed holding a Remington 870 Express 12-guage pump shotgun.
“If you need more sleep, let me know.” she said.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and shook my head. “No. I’m up, Sally.”
I got out of bed. She handed me the shotgun. “There’s been no action at all. Quiet night.”
We walked out of the bedroom and down the hall towards hers. “My alarm is set for 6:00 a.m.”
“Okay,” I said.
“If you even begin to grow tired, just wake me.”
“I will,” I lied.
Sally climbed into bed. There was a standard police issued Glock 17 sitting on her lampstand. She threw some blankets over her and rolled onto her side, facing the door. I backed away silently, just as quiet as the rest of the night.
I walked slowly through the pitch black interior because I wasn’t used to where everything was positioned. The last thing I wanted to do on guard patrol was bump into a table and have a glass lamp fall and shatter. It would have sounded like a grenade in this quietness.
I mad
e it to the front windows, facing the street. A few headlights sped past. Not slow enough to cause alarm. I stood pressed close to the long red drapes, probably invisible to someone hiding outside in the dark. I stood there for at least thirty minutes before I backed away, not walking in front of them, but keeping close to the walls, as I made my way across the house to the door to look at the driveway.
Sally’s home had two doors. One in through the garage. One at the front. The windows were not big enough to permit access. And the black interior would make it almost impossible for someone outside to see me before I saw them. I watched the driveway, turning my head to the left each time I heard a car approaching, only to see the headlights whip past in a hurry. There wasn’t much traffic.
An hour passed. I grew tired. I could still function though. I drank a Coke. I thought about what it was doing to my insides. I thought maybe it was the reason why they served it at McDonalds. To help the French fries erode.
Another silent hour passed and I grew weary. Not just sleepy, but bored out of my mind tired. Forcing myself to stay awake wasn’t something I had done before. It wasn’t simple. Simple is when you’re tired, you go to bed. You don’t stay up for hours into the quiet night taking long blinks and catching yourself with a quick, alert start.
I slumped with my back against the wall, staring out the front windows at nothing. I was fighting off the feeling of letting my body slide down the wall to the floor. Traffic was almost nonexistent. Everything was pitch black, though now my eyes were used to the darkness to where I saw everything in Sally’s well-manicured home. I could hear anyone approaching the garage, and could see anyone attempting to force entry through the front door. I felt secure where I was. I felt secure enough to sag a little in my posture. Secure enough to close my eyes for a moment. Just a second. Just long enough to ward off the stinging sensation.
Then I slid down the wall. I hit the floor. I didn’t care.
I would have slept until dawn.
But my phone rang.
It scared the hell out of me. I jolted awake with a slight groaning yelp, fully alert. There was sound and light shining from my front pants pocket. I felt the vibration in waves.
I stuck my right hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. The light was so bright that I used my left hand to shield it. I answered it with a soft voice. It was Palo at the other end. She sounded worried.
“Can you meet me?”
“When?”
“Now?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Please?”
I rubbed the sleep and sting from my eyes. “Are you in trouble?”
“Can you meet me at the corner of Jean and Kalis?”
I had to think for a moment. The house would be locked tight. Sally had a small arsenal around her. The night was half over. I doubted that Jeff Dimeglio was going to show. I trusted Sally would sleep undisturbed until I returned.
“I’m on my way.”
“Hurry.”
Silence. Palo ended the call. Her phone probably held firm in her hand. Her eyes probably full of worry and desperation. I could hear it in her pleads. She was probably pacing the way Sally had been a few hours ago.
I grabbed my keys off the kitchen table, snatched up my hooded sweatshirt and put it on, leaving my leather jacket over the back of the dining chair, but checking the pocket for my gun first. It wasn’t there. Then I remembered what Sally had told me and went to look under my pillow to find my nine millimeter. I put it into the sweatshirt’s front pouch, then walked into Sally’s room and set the shotgun next to the bed. I wrote a note and left it beside the Glock on her nightstand. She couldn’t hear me. She snored loud.
I took a deep, reassuring breath, then walked to the front door. I opened it carefully, silently. I stepped out into the night. The air had a chill to it. The sky was clear. A few stars were visible. The city lights killed any enjoyment it would have given me from the country. I shut the door slowly, until I heard the lock catch with a click. I tested the door knob. It was locked. She was safe.
I walked around to the El Camino. There was no sign of movement in the yard. Still, I reached my car and stood for a few minutes looking carefully deep into the shadows. It was black everywhere. I shrugged off all the eerie whispers that the late night filled my mind with and convinced myself that I was alone.
I opened the door, got in, started it up, turned the heat on medium blast, backed all the way out to the road, then turned on the lights and drove back into the Red Square.
I was excited.
It had been so long since a woman called me during the night.
Chapter 15
The Hitman: Dirty Rotters Page 14