Short Cut (The Reluctant Hustler Book 2)

by J. Gregory Smith

  “That’s what they said. I had an escort driving out and everything. Overkill, I’m sure, but it was nice to feel important.”

  “Well, good luck heading home. Keep your fingers crossed maybe we’ll see you again.”

  “You never know. I was over there and the Iraqi locals want blood. Their government seems willing to oblige.”

  “So I hear. They’ll get it, and the company too, maybe.”

  “What are you gonna do?” I reached for the keys to the company car.

  “Hope for the best and dust off my resume. If worse comes to worst, I’ll find something around here. Grist and Mauser won’t work again anywhere, that’s for sure.”

  “I bet you’re right.”

  Chapter 37

  Fishtown

  I’d arrived home by dinnertime. My body was on autopilot and I left a note by the coffee machine for Rollie to let him know I was upstairs. I checked on him to see that he was already asleep but breathing fine, so I guess he was okay.

  I hit the bed and was out before my body could bounce.

  * * *

  I dreamed that I was trapped in a hole like Stu had been and, when I woke up, panicked for a moment when I couldn’t move my arm. I’d slept so long and hard that my arm was asleep as well. The pins and needles drove off the remnants of the dream. There had been other dreams, too. It was that kind of night. Ryan was in some of them. He’d show up from time to time like he was going to give me advice or warn me of something, but I always woke up before I’d learn anything.

  I stretched and marveled at the cracks and pops of my body. I still felt tired, but I thought I’d develop bedsores if I slept any longer. I could hear Rollie moving around in the kitchen and smell the coffee. I cleaned up and when I felt human again, I headed downstairs.

  Rollie looked like himself, not counting the gauze bandage he wore behind his ear where he’d been hit.

  “Morning,” I said. “How are you doing?”

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It is still morning, isn’t it? Just. I haven’t slept that long since, maybe ever.” He handed me a full mug. It smelled like heaven. “I’m okay. Swelling is down on my goose egg. A little headache, but nothing some aspirin can’t handle.”

  “Mind if I check your eyes?”

  He leaned forward and his pupils looked okay.

  “A hard head but a soft heart,” he said.

  “Sorry you got dragged into another fine mess.” I glanced over at the array of burner phones. Some of the message lights were blinking.

  “My arm’s not sore from twisting. It’s nice to get out to the country and sample the fresh air.” He grinned.

  “Well, in all the commotion I don’t think I thanked you properly.”

  “You’re breathing. I am too, and I wasn’t much more than a spotter on this op. Thank VP. Interesting kid. Got a lot on the ball.”

  “That reminds me,” I said. “She’ll need her cut. Definitely earned it. You too.”

  Rollie waved it off. “I don’t want your money. Or Ryan’s or Ali’s or whoever’s. I’m getting the hang of this poverty thing. Gimme gas money and we’re good.”

  “How about a prepaid gas card for fifty-grand?”

  He laughed. “All the shit we got through, that’d be a hell of a way to get nailed for laundering money.”

  Jokes aside, it raised an important question. “What are we going to do with it all? That’s a lot of coffee cans buried in the back yard.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it,” he said. “I’ll bet Tom has some ideas. We’ll see him soon enough. Ryan didn’t have anything in his diary?”

  “I’m not sure. Some of them were only listed with respect to how they could help with this operation.”

  “Poker winnings?” Rollie suggested.

  “Great idea. I’ll doublecheck the list for a good tax attorney.” I failed to keep a straight face.

  Rollie clapped me on the shoulder. “Now you’re thinking like a diabolical mastermind.”

  * * *

  I sorted through the burner phones and checked the messages. Sandy wanted to know how I was. I assumed as in, was I still alive? Bishop had returned the late call I made before I went to sleep asking to hear about my trip over coffee when I got a chance. I’d kept my message vanilla and cryptic, just that I’d delivered the truck and thanks for his help. Some rough potholes out in the country, but everyone he knew was okay.

  I didn’t know Aziz, or the rifleman Maloof, who I couldn’t have picked out of a lineup since I never saw his face. Ali told me he’d been a dedicated family man who did whatever he was asked to serve Ali’s business. I couldn’t get Aziz’s face out of my mind. Both those men had also saved us, and paid the price for their efforts. But, like Rollie, they’d acted for their own reasons as much as out of loyalty or for a payday. I can’t imagine what I’d feel if I went up against someone who’d murdered my cousin and defiled his corpse by filling the decapitated head with marbles.

  I didn’t feel anything for Grist or Mauser. Destined to be forever missing but never missed, they wouldn’t see their day in court. I suspected Delivergistics, and in effect everyone who worked for them, would get stuck with the rest of their bill.

  At a personal level I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, either.

  * * *

  I reached Sandy on the phone I’d given her. I still didn’t know where she had gone, but I could tell right away by the sound of her voice that I’d be seeing her again.

  “You’re back?” she asked. “Is that the right term?”

  I laughed. “I’m not sure of all the terminology, but yes I am very glad to be back and as far as I know, you’re in the clear. I don’t think you need to worry about a certain chiropractor.”

  “What did you do to him? He called me a couple days ago and said my lease was torn up, and to stay as long as I like but to lose his number.”

  “One of his people accidentally ran into the guys waiting for me.” I gave her the quick version of what happened. “I guess it’s not all bad if he thinks it was me. As long as you know it wasn’t.”

  “And what about those other ones?”

  “I’ll tell you more later, but it’s over.” I hoped she really wouldn’t want to know, but I’d tell her as much as I could if she asked. “You wanted help rebuilding your client list?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” She sounded happy to change the subject. “But I found a new location that just came available.”

  “Where?” My heart dropped, fearing she’d say Indiana or something.

  “Over in Olde City. It’s a little small and needs some work, but it’s a great deal if we put in some sweat equity.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Check you out.” Relief washed over me. “If you need cheap labor …”

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. “Hold that thought for when I get back to town in a week.”

  * * *

  Oliver hadn’t tried to mess with Rollie’s place again. Rollie had searched all over, looking for signs the house had been breached.

  The idea of someone poking around the place brought to mind the huge amount of cash we now had squirreled away. Including Tom’s share, we had nearly a million bucks on hand. Few people knew it existed, but that was little comfort. My first thought was to sneak it into the bank and put it in the safe deposit box Ryan had left me, but it wouldn’t all fit and that would initiate a paper trail.

  We’d just have sit tight for a while until we could figure something out.

  * * *

  I knew at some point in the near future Rollie and I needed to get all his stuff out of our hideout at the photography studio. I also knew I’d rather do about anything else rather than lug Rollie’s steamer trunks full of ammo and hardware, so instead of dealing with it I arranged to meet Bishop in person.

  It felt good to drive my own truck again without fear of getting run off the road by mercenaries.

  He asked to meet at a small nearby arboretum. I sa
w his car at one corner of the lot. We had that part of the parking lot to ourselves. I leaned against the tailgate and let the afternoon sun warm my face.

  “All’s well that ends well?” Bishop said.

  “It ends, and yeah, we made the trade. But the reason we didn’t call backup wasn’t because it was a piece of cake.”

  “They found you?”

  I filled him in on how Grist and Mauser had caught us and tried to rob the deal.

  “Damn. You know I wasn’t too far from Johnstown, kind of loitering in case you called. If you’d reached me from the quarry, I couldn’t have done much other than send in the local cavalry, but they would’ve been by the book.” Bishop’s way of saying cops not in his informal network.

  “We weren’t exactly at liberty to chat.” I told him how the bomb was rigged on my body.

  I tried to be a little vague when describing how it went down when the shooting started. Trust or not, I didn’t want to directly implicate friends.

  “A laser blinded Mauser ‘somehow’?” he asked.

  “Right out of the sky. Turns out they are terrible for your eyes, especially if you are looking through a scope. Crazy kids screwing around, I guess,”

  Bishop gave a little nod indicating that he figured that must mean VP.

  “Unfortunately,” I said, “Mauser could see a little and he started blasting. So I’m told. There could have been self-defensive return fire.”

  At this I knew he’d assume I meant Rollie. I shook my head. “Rollie was busy. Mauser seems to have gotten into a gunfight where both sides lost. We all came home, but the other guy’s team wound up down a couple players. Mauser will not be jumping any cops again. Never again.”

  “And Grist?”

  “Grist had car trouble.” I described the crashed ambulance. “Our makeshift posse couldn’t agree on the best way to chase him and that cost one man real bad, and let Grist get the drop on Rollie.” I mimed the hit to the head. “He had me dead to rights,” I said. “And he was going to make me cooperate at Rollie’s expense.” I could see by his expression that Bishop understood.

  I could have simply told him we won and they lost, all the way, and he didn’t need to know more and he could get his payment and that was it. However, I was learning that in this weird favor economy, trust was an important part of the collateral. Bishop needed to know what and who he was dealing with.

  “You got him?”

  “Those damn kids playing around with drones, those things are dangerous. Knocked him flat and the other guy he thought was gone had enough left to return the favor. I tried to help him afterwards but …” I shook my head.

  “I heard nothing on the radio.”

  “They picked a good spot for a meet and then felt strongly it was a good idea to be like the hikers and leave no trace.”

  “A drone? That’s impressive. I’ll have to buy him a drink sometime.” It felt odd that Ali and his people knew VP was female but Bishop didn’t, but that still had to be her call.

  “Maybe we can make that happen sometime,” I said. “Now, about your gratuity.”

  “Get settled first. We have time.” He walked back to his car. “I hope the little guy feels better soon. He’s good for traveling?” I assume Bishop meant immigration.

  “He’s very resourceful.”

  Chapter 38

  Rollie’s Place: Two days later

  I was starting to get concerned about Tom when he hadn’t called, but he finally checked in on one of the burners.

  “Where you been? Are you okay?”

  “Training for the marathon, mate, what do you think?”

  “How’s the sore leg?”

  “They say I’m very lucky.” He chuckled. “I always felt that way when they missed. Shows what I know, eh?”

  “So, it looks good otherwise?”

  “It looks rather horrid, but the med people seem pleased.”

  “And you’re satisfied with your care? I could offer you something private if you like.” I hated tiptoeing around topics on these dopey phones, but it would have to do until we could meet up face to face.

  “All good, mate. I trust you have my things secure?”

  “We do. We’re out of the studio and back home. Sorry you missed all the heavy lifting. Your paycheck is here as well.”

  “Brilliant.”

  “How’s Mr. B?”

  “All’s fine on that score. He wishes things had gone smoother of course, but he understood the competition.”

  At least we knew that he didn’t hold any grudges. That was good to know. “When do you think you’ll be up for travel?”

  “No worries. Just a couple more days, if Rollie doesn’t mind me crashing there for a bit.”

  “He said he’s already working on a list of chores.” I’d already discussed the idea with Rollie. He didn’t mind and other than the fact that Tom had sneaked into the country and presumably would be sneaking out, with his share of the cash, he wasn’t in any other trouble.

  “I’d love to help, but my paperwork says I’m on holiday.” It was good to hear him in high spirits.

  * * *

  Fishtown: In front of Cream of the Cup

  Now that I was more or less back on solid ground I’d started driving and walking the neighborhood. I kept going past Beet’s place and the coffee shop. Sooner or later I needed to resolve his situation, but I wanted to speak to him before confronting Milosh and whatever goons he had hanging around.

  I felt like we’d been out of pocket for ages, but of course to the rest of the world it had actually only been a few days. When I pulled up to the coffee shop, one look at the hunched figure wearing the sandwich board told me that for Beet it might have felt even longer.

  “Beet? Is that you?”

  The guy turned around in little shuffling steps, the advertisement rotated to face me. He wore a neck brace, and his left arm was in a sling. I couldn’t see the old bruises on his face for the rash of fresh ones. He had a bandage above one eyebrow. “Kyle. I thought you weren’t coming back.” He wore a Cream of the Cup T-shirt.

  My heart sank in my chest. When it came back it would be on a wave of fury, but I had to tamp it down to speak with him. “Of course. I came back as soon as I could. What did they do to you?”

  “Don’t be mad at me. I did what you said.” He looked frightened.

  “Huh?” It was getting difficult to think straight.

  “They wanted me to do other jobs. Easy ones, like deliveries. Secret packages and stuff, but I always said no.”

  “Because I said you shouldn’t?” I already knew the answer.

  “They said I shouldn’t listen to you and it would only get me in trouble.” He eyed the ground. “Then I started having more accidents.”

  Simple thoughts had to push through a red haze clouding my mind. “So, they beat you?”

  “They said I was a slow learner and so were you.” Tears squeezed out of his swollen eyes.

  “Get in my truck, okay? You don’t have to work for them anymore.”

  “I have to pay my debt,” he said. “Dad always said a man pays his debts.”

  I nodded. “You more than paid them. I’ll take care of this.” I helped him out of the sandwich board and threw it on the ground.

  I started toward the storefront. It felt like a magnet pulled me and if I didn’t walk, I’d fly right through the glass. Beet’s voice stopped me.

  “Kyle? You’re going to work for them. We’re going to work together?” I actually heard a note of optimism in his voice.

  “Is that what you think?”

  He nodded, sort of, the neck brace forced him to rock in the seat. “They said you would come to your senses or I was going to keep having accidents.”

  Something clicked inside my skull. I’d never felt anything like it before. All of a sudden, the solution hit me and I couldn’t get away from the shop fast enough. Even as I was sure a certain someone was inside laughing at me while I stood there. I climbed into the truck
and left rubber pulling back into traffic.

  “Beet, listen carefully. Did you see what was in those packages they wanted you to deliver?”

  “They said it was coffee, but I think they put something inside.”

  “What was it?”

  “I didn’t look, but it was wrapped up tight in a package.”

  “Did they have it in the store?”

  “Nope. They had me meet them at a corner by a van.”

  “A van? Where?”

  “It didn’t hurt to go listen, but you told me, no packages, so I said nope.” He paused. “That did hurt.”

  “I’m sorry, buddy.”

  “When they punished me, they said to tell you what I saw, just like I did. They said anytime you wanted to take my place to get in touch.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yup. They told me to say, ‘Tell the cops to come by the place anytime. Coffee is half price for law enforcement.’ Do you know what that means?”

  It meant they were never going to quit and they dared me to try to get them busted. Most of all, it meant that a ‘no’ from me wouldn’t be over my dead body.

  “Hard to say, but thanks for telling me.”

  I dropped Beet over at Rollie’s and let him know that I’d be back for him, but to keep an eye out for our Kosovar friends.

  “And I was just starting to get bored,” Rollie said while Beet tucked into some ice cream in the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

  “To eat some crow.”

  Chapter 39

  Fishtown, Cream of the Cup: Three days later

  I walked to the door wearing a light windbreaker. The blackboard easel sported bright pastel-colored chalk letters that spelled out, “Closed for Private Event.”

  One of the servers stood by the door and, when he walked me inside, pointed to a decorated archway that I realized was a disguised metal detector. I stepped through and when I didn’t beep, he pointed to the rear of the shop.

  “Thanks. I know the way.” I walked past all the empty tables.