They

by J. F. Gonzalez

  “I’m fine.”

  Mike wiped his bloodied hands and arms with the towel, getting most of the blood off. “Let’s consolidate these bags,” he said. “Frank, empty your bag and put your stuff in Vince’s.”

  Frank did as he was told. When he was finished, he handed the empty travel bag to Mike, who tossed the bloodied towels inside. Mike zipped up the bag. “Okay,” he said. “I’m going to check us out. How do I look?”

  “Nervous as shit,” Frank said.

  “Okay.” Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He remained that way for a moment, taking deep breaths, and when he opened his eyes again he looked a little calmer. “Now?”

  “Less stressed,” Frank said. He peeked out the window. “I don’t think you have a lot to worry about, dude.” He motioned toward the end of the motel. “I think the people that run this place are used to seeing nervous looking guys.”

  Vince followed his gaze. A thin woman wearing blue jeans and a tight halter-top was standing at the side of the motel, talking on a pay phone. She had shoulder length brown hair that looked like it was microwaved dry and she was wearing high heels and too much make-up. “Besides,” Frank said, “didn’t you notice that this place also rents by the hour?”

  “Good point,” Mike said. He headed to the office to check them out. He returned a moment later. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

  Mike piloted the vehicle back onto 272, then onto 222. Fifteen minutes later they were on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, heading to Harrisburg. “Just stay cool,” he said as he drove at a cautious sixty-five miles per hour. He’d put on a pair of wire-rimmed glasses that Vince retrieved for him. “All the activity is back in Lititz now and probably at Reverend Powell’s.”

  “I hope he’ll be okay,” Vince said.

  “So do I,” Mike said.

  They were silent as they made their way into Harrisburg. Mike stayed on the expressway. “Do you know Harrisburg?” he asked.

  Vince shook his head. “Not really.”

  “Where’s the airport?”

  “There,” Frank said from the back seat. He was lying down across the back seat and he pointed up at one of the exit signs. The sign read HARRISBURG AIRPORT EXIT, 2 MILES.

  “Great,” Mike said, switching lanes to get onto the right expressway.

  “Don’t you think the cops will think to look for us near any airports?” Vince asked.

  “We’re not flying out of here,” Mike said. “We’re just going to stay overnight in a hotel that’s within close proximity to the airport, that’s all.”

  “The bigger, the better,” Frank said.

  “Why?” Vince couldn’t think straight. As far as he was concerned, they should be trying to get the hell out of Pennsylvania, not stay in Harrisburg near the airport.

  “Frank, did you bring any long-sleeved shirts?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah, I brought one.”

  “Put it on, and tie your hair back in a pony tail. Are you adverse to getting it cut?”

  “No. In fact, maybe one of you can cut it for me in the room and I can find a barber or a stylist at whatever hotel we’re staying at.”

  “Good plan.” Mike took the next exit.

  “Why the hell are we talking about Frank getting a haircut?” Vince said. “Why aren’t we getting the hell out of here?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” Mike said as he came to a stop at the end of the exit ramp, “Frank is going to be the one person that sticks out in the minds of all those witnesses back there in Lititz. You and I look pretty normal, but they’ll remember Frank pretty easy. They’ll probably say some kind of biker-looking guy was involved, and that’s who the cops will be looking for. We need to change his appearance as quickly as possible, and that means a drastic change. You and I are going to have to do a little bit of altering of our appearances as well.”

  “Like how?”

  “I hear shaved heads are real popular,” Frank said from the back seat.

  “New hairstyles, new clothes.” Mike was driving through downtown Harrisburg. The airport was a mile away. They were approaching the business district of Harrisburg. “Our first order of business should probably be outfitting ourselves in new clothing and lopping off as much of Frank’s hair as we can. We can do that in the car, in one of those big parking structures. Then we can check in to our hotel wearing our new duds.”

  “As different people,” Vince said.

  “Exactly.”

  Three blocks later they came upon a ten story parking structure. Mike pulled up to the entrance, took a ticket, and swung the car in. He drove up five flights before he found a parking slot and pulled in and turned off the engine. He turned around in the back seat. “Okay, I’ve got a pair of scissors in my toiletries bag. Why don’t I do the honors?”

  “Be my guest,” Frank said. He quickly peeled off his shirt as Mike exited the driver’s side and slid into the back seat.

  Vince watched as Frank brushed his hair back. He couldn’t help but grin as Mike began cutting Frank’s hair. Mike’s tongue stuck out a little bit in concentration as he worked. “I’m sorry if this comes out looking half-assed, but—”

  “Too bad you don’t have an electric razor,” Vince said, grinning. “You could shave his head.”

  “Fuck you, Vince,” Frank said. He was trying to shoot Vince an angry look but he was also grinning. Vince grinned back.

  “Boys, boys,” Mike said, grinning. “Come on now, let’s not have any of that.”

  Mike snipped at Frank’s hair, cutting the length off from his shoulders. He proceeded to cut the length from the top, gathering hair in his hands the way hairstylists do when engaged in their trade. Mike was doing a pretty good job.

  When Mike was finished, Frank looked like a beefier version of Tommy Lee with a bad haircut. “Okay, so it’s not the greatest,” Mike said as Frank checked himself out in the rearview mirror. “You can get it fixed at the hotel.”

  “Exactly,” Frank said, donning a black long sleeved shirt.

  Their first order of business was exiting the parking structure and walking two blocks to a Men’s Warehouse on Main Street. They spent thirty minutes trying on and having minor alterations done on suits. The suits came with white shirts and dark slacks. They each bought a pair of shiny dress shoes to go with the new clothes. When they emerged from the store clutching bulky bags containing the clothes they had worn into the store they looked like three businessmen out on a lunchtime shopping errand. Frank’s hair didn’t look as bad now that he was wearing a suit. They walked back to the car, transferred their clothes to their overnight bags, and then headed to the Marriot to check in.

  Mike pointed at a bulletin board where the events the hotel was hosting was posted. “We’re in luck,” he said. “There’s an audio convention going on here. Perfect.”

  The name of the convention was the Stereophonic Association’s East Coast Trade Show and Convention. Mike casually approached the front desk. “Hi. I was wondering if it’s not too late to get a room for the convention.”

  The desk clerk was a young guy in his early twenties. He checked the computer. “We had one cancellation. Are you with the convention?”

  “Yes,” Mike said. “Our company sent us out at the last minute and—”

  “Convention rate is one hundred and twenty dollars a night,” the desk clerk said, typing away at the keyboard. “Will there be three of you in the room?”

  “Yes.”

  Mike paid for the room with a credit card bearing his real name. When they got into the elevator, Vince asked, “Why are we using our real names now?”

  “Just in case the police in Lancaster County run checks on motels in the area,” Mike said. “We don’t want them to track us with the pseudonym I used in Ephrata.”

  Once they were in the room, Vince put his bag down on one of the two queen sized beds. “What do we do now?” he asked, flopping down on the bed.

  Frank found the hotel directory. “Now I get this fu
cked up haircut fixed up.”

  “And you and I get a new look as well,” Mike said.

  There was a hair salon on the main floor of the hotel. Frank called and managed to secure three appointments. They headed downstairs for their respective haircuts and spent the next hour at the salon. Frank got his hair cut in a more traditional style. Mike’s hair, which he had allowed to grow a little long at the top and sides, was cropped short. Vince’s hair, which had been cut in a very short and conservative business style, was cut in a style similar to Frank’s. When they were finished they looked very different from the men that had been at the Family Cupboard in Lititz. Especially Frank. “It might be a good idea for us to dress rather conservatively until we get back to California,” Mike said as they rode up in the elevator. “And I’ll start growing a mustache. Shouldn’t take long at all.”

  Once they returned to their room, Vince checked his watch and was surprised to see that it was almost two-thirty. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

  “We need to talk,” Frank said, heading to the desk. “We should probably get something to eat, too.”

  “Let’s get something from room service,” Mike suggested.

  Frank ordered angel hair pasta and a salad for himself, a hamburger and French fries for Mike, and a Turkey sandwich and potato salad for Vince. He also ordered three bottles of Evian water and a Pepsi. Mike and Frank took off their jackets and draped them over one of the beds. Vince kept his sport coat on. When the room service bellhop arrived with the tray, Mike gave him a five-dollar tip. Then they gathered up their respective lunches and gathered around the room, Frank reclaiming his spot at the desk.

  “We need to find Mary Ann,” Mike said.

  Vince shook his head. “No way. I’m not going back to Lititz. Not after the shit that went down. I don’t think you guys should go, either.”

  “Mike has a point,” Frank said, twirling pasta around on his fork. “We gotta get her. I’m pretty sure we can get her to talk to us if we can find her.”

  “Tom Hoffman said she hangs out at a place called Nino’s,” Mike said, nodding to Vince. “Where’s that?”

  “It’s on Main Street in Lititz. Across the street from the post office.”

  “How far is the police station from Nino’s?” Frank asked.

  “Around the block.” Vince frowned at them. “It’s a stupid idea. There’s gonna be cops crawling all over Lititz, not to mention Lancaster County. What happened back there is going to be talked about for the next twenty years. It was like something out of a Quentin Tarantino movie.”

  “Or John Woo,” Frank added, eating pasta.

  “Who the hell is John Woo?” Vince asked.

  “Don’t you ever watch movies? The Killer, Hardboiled, A Better Tomorrow?”

  Vince had no idea what Frank was talking about. Frank sighed and rolled his eyes. “Chow Yun Fat? Face Off with Travolta and Nick Cage?”

  “I remember that one,” Vince said.

  “Did you ever see The Replacement Killers with Mira Sorvino? That one had Chow Yun Fat in it.”

  Vince shook his head and took a bite of his sandwich. “No, I didn’t.”

  Frank looked disgusted. “Dude, when this shit is over, you and I are going to sit down in your house and we’re going to do some serious movie watching! Even my daughter knows who John Woo is!”

  Mike attempted to change the subject as he chewed his hamburger. “We can drive down to Lititz this afternoon. We’ll go down there dressed the way we are now. It’s a workday so we won’t look too out of place. I have a fake badge somewhere in my bag. I can use it to try to coerce the kids we run into at Nino’s to lead us to Mary Ann.”

  “Impersonating a police officer is a federal offense,” Vince said, a trickle of sarcasm creeping into his voice.

  “Yeah, and if we don’t find Mary Ann we’re left right where we started,” Mike said.

  “Suppose she doesn’t know anything, though?” Frank asked, spooning pasta onto his fork. “Seriously. I think we should find her, but what if she doesn’t know shit?”

  “We’ll have to take that chance,” Mike said. “She obviously knows enough to have scared Tom Hoffman so bad that he was afraid to tell us what she revealed to him. Maybe she found out something about this Mark Lancaster fellow and his friend.”

  “Like what?” Vince asked.

  “Like what group they belonged to,” Mike said. He took a bite of his hamburger and chewed, frowning. “I think Clint told Mary Ann more than Tom let on. It’s obvious from his story that Clint spent more time with these guys than Mary Ann did. I’m guessing they don’t know about her. Or if they do, they don’t consider her a threat.”

  “What makes you think she’ll talk to us providing you do locate her?” Vince asked.

  “She’ll talk to us,” Frank said. He was almost finished with his pasta. “She’ll be freaked out over what happened at the Family Cupboard. Especially when she finds out that Tom Hoffman was shot.”

  Mike nodded. “If the police haven’t picked her up yet, she may be willing to talk to us. I think it’s worth a chance.”

  “And what if we get caught?” Vince asked. This was the forefront question on his mind. If they got caught, they were screwed. “Why can’t we just go to your friend Billy with what we have now?”

  “Because if we can find Mary Ann and get her to cooperate, we’ll have somebody that is removed from us who can verify everything,” Mike said. “As for getting caught, that’s a chance we’re going to have to take.” He glanced at Frank, then back to Vince. “Plus, I think we’re going to have to do something equally as risky.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Leave you here.”

  Vince almost laughed. “Oh. So you guys are paranoid that I’ll get you shot at again, huh? You’d rather leave me alone and let the assassins get me while you’re not around, right?”

  “Not at all,” Mike said. He turned around so he was facing Vince. He was almost finished with his burger but he made no attempt to eat. “Frank and I know what we’re looking for, we know what questions to ask. Besides, somebody at the Family Cupboard might have recognized you, too. You were once a local boy, you know.”

  “Yeah, and I haven’t been back here in fifteen years.”

  “Doesn’t matter. There might have been an old teacher or neighbor back at the Family Cupboard that you forgot about. We can’t take that chance. If somebody recognized you, the police will know about it. They’ll be able to go to the local high school and pull your old class photo out and have it in every squad car by now. If you show up with us, you might be spotted. There’s less chance of Frank and me being recognized the way we look now. We’ll drive over and we’ll be quick about it. It should take no more than a few hours.”

  “And what if they recognize the car?” Vince asked.

  “We’ll rent a car here in town,” Mike said. He looked at Frank, who nodded. “We’ll leave the other vehicle here. Frank and I will drive to Lancaster County in a new vehicle. We’ll make an attempt at finding Mary Ann. If we find her, we’ll get her to come with us and talk. We won’t go armed, and we’ll go under our real names. We’ll be less likely to run into trouble in Lititz should we get picked up by the police.”

  “I don’t think we will, though,” Frank said. He finished his pasta and began attacking his salad.

  “No, I don’t either,” Mike added.

  “And what am I supposed to do?” Vince asked.

  “Stay here,” Mike finished his hamburger and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Seriously. Lay low. Watch TV. Whatever you do, don’t leave this room.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bad idea?” Vince asked. He felt nervous about the prospect of being alone. “I mean, splitting up like this?”

  Mike shrugged. He rose to his feet and set his plate aside. “I don’t know what else to do. It shouldn’t take too long for Frank and me to go to Lititz and do some poking around.”

  “We could try to bring M
ary Ann back with us,” Frank suggested.

  Mike opened his wallet and began rifling through it, purging it of all the documents that contained his alias. “We could,” he said. “We’ll have to play it by ear, though.”

  “What if those guys come here and try to kill me again?” Vince asked. This is what Vince feared the most. He’d been thinking about the routes they’d taken in Lancaster County, and he didn’t recall seeing anybody tailing them to the Family Cupboard. It was almost as if the men that shot at him had known he was going to be walking out of the Family Cupboard and they’d positioned themselves accordingly. He mentioned this to Mike and Frank. “Think about it,” he said. “They were waiting for me. They came right at me. I was their target, not Tom Hoffman, not Reverend Powell, not you. They were after me.”

  “I know, but I don’t think they’ll make a third attempt so soon,” Mike said, replacing his wallet. He put his sport coat on. “We managed to kill the men who attacked us today, Vince. That had to have been a tremendous set-back for them.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure they weren’t expecting it,” Frank said. He hadn’t finished his salad yet, but he began setting his plate aside. “Did you recognize any of those guys today?”

  “No.” Vince shook his head. Their faces flashed in his mind, and he felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t wanted to kill anybody but he had, and he felt sick about it.

  “The guy that shot at you in Irvine wasn’t one of the three today?” Mike asked.

  “No,” Vince said, trying to remember. “The guy in Irvine was older. He had darker hair, was a little taller.”

  “These guys looked young.” Frank put his coat on.

  “They did,” Mike agreed. He reached into his bag and brought out his Glock. He looked at Vince. “Just in case.” The implication was obvious.

  Vince nodded. Mike set the gun on the nightstand by the bed.

  “We’ll find our way back to Lititz,” Mike said. He pocketed a room key and stood with Frank. “Give us until nine p.m. I have my cell phone with me. If we’re going to be late, I’ll call you. You’ll be fine. Frank and I won’t take any unnecessary risks. We’ll be in and out of there as quickly as possible.”