by Mike Ryan
She then opened the car door and got inside. Jacobs stood planted in the same spot, not moving an inch as she waved to him through the window, then drove away. He watched her car drive out of the parking lot and thought about the last few seconds with her. He touched his cheek.
“Maybe… with a lot of effort.”
5
Jacobs walked through the park until he got to the usual bench seat that he and Buchanan seemed to always occupy. The sergeant was already sitting and waiting. Jacobs wasn’t sure what his friend called and wanted to talk about, but he was sure it was probably something important. They didn’t just shoot the breeze. As Jacobs sat down next to him, Buchanan handed him a cup. Steam was coming out of it.
“What’s this?”
“Who cares?” Buchanan answered. “It’s hot, and it’s chilly today, so it’ll cure what ails ya.”
Jacobs took a sip. It might have been the strongest coffee he’d ever had. “If they had this stuff in Alaska, they wouldn’t even feel the cold. Where’s this from?”
“My own special brew.”
Jacobs smelled it, knowing there were probably some other things in there besides just coffee. “Is this like our spot now?”
“What spot?”
“This bench. This park. Every time we meet now, it’s always in this exact place.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. I hadn’t noticed,” Buchanan said.
“Well, it is.”
“OK, next time we’ll meet at a bowling alley or something just to be different.”
Jacobs grinned. “Maybe with not so many people. Anyway, what’s this about?”
Buchanan picked up a manilla envelope next to him and passed it along. “This.”
“Another of these mysterious envelopes.” Jacobs removed a few photos and looked at them. He’d seen them before. Well, not the photos, but the scenes that they detailed. They were pictures of the warehouse incident between Butch and Ames from the other day. “What about them?”
“You know anything about it?”
Jacobs smiled, knowing what was being implied. “Sure, I do. But it wasn’t me if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But you know who did it?”
“If you wanna know the exact person who killed these guys, that I can’t say. There was too much going on.”
“Wait, you were there?”
Jacobs nodded. “Yeah. Not there with these guys, though. But I was on the property… watching.”
“Watching for what?”
“Honestly? I was thinking about doing this myself. Turned out I didn’t have to. These guys all started turning on each other.”
“Why would they do that?”
Jacobs looked at him strangely, assuming he already knew who was involved. But if he’d asked that question, then maybe he didn’t. “You don’t know who these guys are?”
“No, who are they? I mean, we got names and all, but no connections to any gangs or anything.”
“Hmm, must’ve been new players or recruits.”
“For who?”
“Two of those boys belonged to Wilson Ames.”
“Ames, huh? Nothing in these guys’ backgrounds indicated any type of affiliation.”
“And the other two belonged to Butch’s crew,” Jacobs added.
“Butch? You mean they were both there at the same time? Butch and Ames?”
Jacobs nodded. “Yeah.”
“What were they doing?”
Jacobs shrugged. “Can’t say. I wasn’t that close. The two sides went in, squared off, then the two leaders met in the middle and had what I’d call a very animated conversation. Then, the shooting started. The dead guys went down, the leaders got ushered into cars and drove off, then that was it.”
“Wow. Sure would’ve liked to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. How long’d it last?”
“Not long. A couple minutes maybe.”
“Anything exchange hands? Packages maybe?”
“The only thing that was exchanged was lead.”
“Hmm. Wonder what it was about?”
“My guess is they were trying to come to terms about territory issues or one was trying to buy the other out. Something along those lines.”
“Interesting. Nothing with the names on these bodies came back to either of those crews. Looks like we’ll be having a discussion with Butch and Ames later.”
“You won’t get anything out of it.”
“Probably not. But you never know. At least they’ll know we’re watching.”
“Like that ever did any good. Mallette always knew we were watching. Did it ever stop him?”
Buchanan looked down at the grass underneath them. “No. But these guys aren’t Mallette either. He was entrenched. These guys aren’t. There’s still time to get rid of them before they dig in.”
“It’s just a never-ending cycle, isn’t it? Get rid of one and there’s two more to take his place. Get rid of these guys and there’ll be two more after that. It never stops.”
“We can only do what we can do. The rest of it isn’t up to us.”
“Yeah.”
“Speaking of stopping, how much longer do you intend to stay in the game?”
“Why, trying to get rid of me?” Jacobs asked.
“Just don’t wanna see you in a box or a cell. You’ve escaped both up until now. How much longer do you think you can keep that up?”
Jacobs sighed. It was a question that always came up. If not by Buchanan, then by himself. “I don’t know. Not much longer probably.”
“If you bowed out now, you can still have a future. If you want one.”
Jacobs looked at him. “Can I?”
“Yes. You can. But you’ve got to let yourself move on. Do you think this is what Val would’ve wanted you to do for the rest of your life?”
Jacobs took a deep breath and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together as he looked at the ground. “Probably not.”
“Definitely not. It’s not too late, you know.”
Jacobs looked up at the sky. “What if it is? What if it is too late?”
“Bullshit. You know when it’s too late? When you’re six feet under. Until then, it’s never too late. You just gotta want it.”
“I don’t know, Buck. I don’t know if I can change anymore. What I am now is…”
“What you are now is a lost soul. For a long time now, you’ve been wandering alone in the dark without a light to guide you. What you need now is to find that light. And let it bring you in. Let it bring you in.”
Images of Valerie and the kids flashed through Jacobs’ mind as he thought about it. “That light was extinguished a long time ago.” Jacobs shook his head. “I don’t think I can get it back.”
“You can. It’s not extinguished. It’s just dimly lit right now. What you need is something or someone who can flip that switch back on and give you a light that you can walk toward.”
More images came into Jacobs’ head. This time they were of Tiffany. Fleeting images of her face, at the restaurant, in the movies, by the car, kissing his cheek, all came and went. But they were there. As Buchanan looked at his friend, it was the first time in forever that it looked like Jacobs was actually thinking of walking away. Every other time they’d spoken since that fateful night his family had been killed, there was always a certain look on Jacobs’ face, an anger in his voice, something that indicated there was nothing else there for him but revenge. But now, for whatever reason, there actually appeared to be some hesitation, some doubt, a softness in his voice that said maybe this wasn’t the end that he expected.
“You know, with Mallette, I never agreed with… well, who am I to say how you handled things was right or wrong? Maybe I would’ve done the same. But in any case, even though you didn’t handle things the way I hoped you would have, I always kind of understood. You were in tremendous pain. And I get that. You felt that Mallette was the origina
tor of that pain, and he was, and it needed to be avenged. I get all that. I do. But Brett, that fight is over. Nothing else you’re doing or will do has anything to do with that. Continuing down that path… is a path to nowhere. It’s time to let go of that pain. It’s time to let go.”
Jacobs sat there, listening to his friend’s words, staring out at the trees in the distance. He didn’t have any words to respond.
“Well, I better be going,” Buchanan said. “If you need me, you know where to find me.” Jacobs nodded. Buchanan tapped his friend on the back of the shoulder as he got up and left. “Take care of yourself, huh?”
Jacobs watched his friend walk away, not taking his eyes off his former partner until he finally vanished from sight. He lowered his head and put his hand on it, rubbing his forehead. He was suddenly feeling the most conflicted he’d been since he started on this journey the night his family was killed. Everything had always seemed so clear. What he had to do, what he had to become, it was just the way it had to be. But now, now he didn’t know. Was he actually capable of stopping and turning back into someone else? Could he really shed the pain like Buchanan suggested? He just didn’t know anymore.
Jacobs continued sitting on the bench for a few more minutes. He saw a mom and her two kids walk by, a few seconds later followed by a younger couple holding hands, enjoying the scenery and each other’s company. Over the next twenty minutes, Jacobs watched even more people walk by. People walking by themselves, entire families, couples, kids, dogs on leashes, Jacobs just took it all in. He was finally interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. He looked at the ID and answered.
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Hey yourself. Where you been?”
“At the park.”
“At the park? Whatcha doing there?”
“Uh, I dunno, what do most people do at the park?”
“Waste time, which you don’t got.”
“I don’t? Why not?”
“‘Cause you got somewhere that you need to be.”
“I do?”
“You do.”
“Umm, I’m pretty sure I checked with my secretary this morning, boss, and she didn’t mention any upcoming appointments or meetings today.”
“Ha ha, very funny. But you do have someplace you need to be. I just arranged it.”
“You just… arranged it? Arranged what?”
Franks cleared his throat. “You’ve got a meeting with Butch in thirty minutes.”
“Excuse me?”
“Butch called me and…”
“Wait, wait, wait… Butch called you? How’d he get your number? I thought you changed numbers and ditched phones because of the last incident with him.”
“Uh, yeah, kind of, sort of, but anywhatnots, that’s kind of a long story, and I’m just not sure…”
“Stay on point, Eddie.”
“Oh, yeah, anyways, uh… what was I saying?”
“About Butch calling you?”
“Oh, yeah, that was it. So Butch called me. I guess he got my number through a mutual third party, which, you know, I can’t really be blamed or faulted for, ‘cause you know I know a lot of people; I got a lot of numbers in the virtual Rolodex, so to speak. But in any case, that’s how he came to call me…”
“Details, Eddie, details.”
“Right, I’m getting to it. I just wanted to set the scene and the mood and all that.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“Right. It’s not. Speaking of which, you didn’t say much about yours last night. All you said was it was fine, man, and you know I want more details than that. You know that.”
“We had dinner and went to a movie. It was good.”
“Nice. So, uh, tell me, did you stop back at her place for a little nightcap?”
“No.”
“What?! What do you mean, no?”
“I mean we didn’t go back to her place, we didn’t have a roll in the hay as you put it, and we didn’t get a little lucky. It was just a nice time.”
“Oh. Sounds a little boring to me, but you know, whatever strikes your boat and all that.”
“Floats your boat. Not strikes. Floats.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Floats, strikes, sinks, blows up, whatever. You get the point.”
“I rarely, if ever, get the point.”
“So’d you make plans for date number three yet?”
“No.”
“No?! Whatcha waiting for, man?”
“I’m waiting for when—I mean if, I’m ready.”
“When’s that gonna be?”
“I don’t know. But you will also probably not be the first to know.”
“I mean, if you want, I could…”
“No, no, you can’t. Remember, I went on this date, and you agreed to keep your big nose out of it.”
“Who’s got a big nose?”
“Figure of speech, Eddie.”
“I should say so. Ain’t nothing wrong with my nose. As a matter of fact, I get compliments on my nose all the time.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Sure I do.” Franks then started laughing. “You know, that gets me to thinking about this one time, actually not that long ago, probably a few months back or whatever, but whatever, that’s not important. What is important is that I was doing something with this lady one time, and you know what she was doing with my nose? She was putting it…”
“Eddie! I don’t want to know! Stop right there. I don’t care about this lady, I don’t care about your nose, and I certainly don't want to know about where she was putting it. Just stop and don’t say anything else.”
“Uh… so you don’t want to hear the story?”
“How ’bout you tell me the story about how you got me into a meeting with Butch? You know, the one I didn’t ask for, wasn’t expecting, didn’t want, and not even sure if I want to go to! You know, that one.”
“Well, you ain’t gotta get hostile about it, man. I was just trying to do you a favor.”
“How is setting up a meeting with Butch doing me a favor?”
“Well, I thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d, you know, throw in with you or something.”
“Throw in with me? What am I, The Lone Ranger, going around and picking up a bunch of Tontos?”
“The Lone Ranger. That the dude with the mask riding the white horse?”
“Yeah. Can we please not go off on a tangent about it?”
“Well, you’re the one who brought it up.”
“And now I’m dropping it. What makes you think me meeting Butch is a good idea?”
“You told me yourself that he got into it with Ames the other night.”
“That doesn’t mean I wanna go join his crew.”
“Nobody said anything about joining nobody. Just talk to the guy. Maybe he’s got a proposition that you can live with. Listen, you both want the same thing, right? To get rid of Ames?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure Butch is much better.”
“C’mon, man, just go meet with him, see what he has to say.”
“Why’s this so important to you?”
“Getting in good with Butch, man, could be a good thing. If he’s able to dump Ames out of our hair, and we’re in tight with Butch, might be good times ahead.”
Jacobs sighed. “Eddie. I’m not throwing in with anybody.”
“C’mon, man, can you just do this thing for me? Just once?”
“I do a lot of things for you.”
“Yeah, man, I know, but this is worth… uh, this is… uh…”
“Worth? Worth what?”
“Uh, nothing, man, nothing.” Franks let out an uncomfortable sounding laugh. “Slip of the tongue, you know?”
“Eddie? I can always tell when you’re lying.”
“Oh, damn. Why you gotta go and get all like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like… you know.”
“Worth what? And you better tell me now, or I can guarantee I am not going.”
“Yeah.”
“All right, because Butch knew you’d be apprehensive about meeting him, he told me he’d give me a little extra something in my pocket if I could get you there.”
“You’re taking money for this?!”
“Now, now, just listen, don’t get your dander up in a pony, it’s not like it sounds.”
“Then how is it?”
“Uh, well, it’s… pretty close to being accurate.”
“Eddie! How could you sell me out like this?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, my friend. This is not selling you out. Selling you out would be telling him where you live, or what kind of car you drive, or telling you to go somewhere so he can gun you down, things like that. But this, this my friend, is not selling you out.”
“What do you call it?”
“This is just making a little business arrangement that don’t hurt nobody and puts a little extra green in my pocket.”
“And what if this little meeting is actually him trying to rub me out?”
“Nah, won’t happen.”
“How do you know?”
“He gave me his word.”
“Oh, well, if that’s settled. He’s a trustworthy guy. As long as he gave you his word. I should be fine. No worries here.”
“Listen, man, he wants to meet you at a restaurant. Right out there in the middle of the public facility, where everybody can see, no tricks, no… well, no tricks. How much better can it get?”
“Yeah, ’cause nobody ever got killed in a restaurant or walking out of one before. I feel so much better.”
“Why you gotta be like that?”
“How much money are you getting for this?” Jacobs asked.
“I don’t wanna talk about that.”
“How much?”
“It’s not appropriate to discuss business numbers at a time like this.”
“How much?”
Franks sighed, knowing he was going to keep pushing. “A thousand.”
“A thousand dollars? Just for me showing up?”
“Yeah.”
“You are a piece of work, you know that?”
“Hey, that almost sounds insulting. What’s the harm in it? I get a little extra bread, you talk to the guy, he gets what he wants, maybe you get something out of it too, and everybody goes home happy.”