“I asked. Autumn has a file on every guy she meets … and when I ask for something, I eventually get it.”
“Bet that goes both ways.” I make a finger-gun gesture that I was able to walk in here with my Glock because of her.
“Touché.” He pushes a whiskey bottle and a glass across the table as an offering. “I asked for your name when she said she met a guy who works for Dorazio. But I had to put the pressure on to wring it out of her. She wasn’t about to give you up without a fight.” He cocks his head. “You must be special.”
“I don’t work for Dorazio.” I pour myself a drink.
“Kid, let’s not play those games.” He lifts his hand, blocking my second denial. “I know Autumn withholds information she collects because she gets a kick out of having my balls in a vice. It keeps me speculating about what she’s up to. But she’s vulnerable. So, I got your photo and your name, as I asked. Then I checked you out. Yes, you do work for Dorazio.”
“I have no record,” I reply, picking at the armrest, a sour taste in my mouth.
“That’s true.” He points between my eyes. “You have no criminal record. You’re nearly nonexistent. And if Autumn has the goods on you for something other than being a snitch, she’s keeping it a secret for now.”
I look away. “I’m just an average guy. I have no secrets.”
“Average guys are easy to find online, you’re not. No Facebook or Twitter accounts?”
“I deactivated them last year.”
“Why?”
I shift. “Because there’s stuff on there I don’t wanna see anymore.”
He surveys me from under his hooded eyelids. “Too painful?” he asks.
I don’t answer.
“Look, I’ve spoken to Dorazio about you. The guy is shaking in his boots, says he barely knows you, which is strange since he’s always drinking at your bar.”
“Why are you asking Ed about me?”
“To find your kryptonite so we can get shit done.”
“What shit?” I say sharply.
“We’ll get there. Let’s talk about Autumn first.” He takes a long pull of his drink, making me wait. After licking the whiskey off his top lip, he says, “You know about our relationship?”
I shrug, smelling the whiskey before having a taste. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh, really?” His voice becomes dark and dramatic. “Even if it’s incriminating, tell me what she said.”
“I don’t know anything,” I repeat.
He leans back with a grin, holding the glass in front of his mouth. “So you work for Dorazio?”
“No.”
“Did you kill a man named Trevor?”
“No.”
“Have you murdered any drug dealers?”
“No.”
“Are you a pathological liar?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and hold a straight expression. “No.”
Nick peers over the balcony at Autumn, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “All grown-up, huh? At twenty-two, you think you have your head on straight. Invincible, right?”
“What the hell do you want?” I guzzle down the whiskey.
“Take it you haven’t learned to savor it.”
I give the last drop of honey-colored liquid a swirl and toss it back.
“No comment, kid? That’s smart. Keep me guessing.”
“I drink a lot. I don’t have to savor every glass.”
“I was talking about women, not whiskey.” His mouth twists.
I rub my thighs, looking back to see if the stairs are clear for an escape, the scent of my sweat lingering.
“Lighten up. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I have to go. I wanna spend the night with my date.”
When I start to rise, he leans in and puts his hand on my shoulder. “We have business to discuss.” The leather chair crinkles under his weight when he leans back. “Who are you, Dylan? Have you worked for anyone besides Dorazio? How about any dealers?”
“I’m just a nobody. An ignorant snitch.”
“If that’s true, then this will be easy.”
“What will?”
Nick checks and double-checks the stairs to make sure we’re alone before tackling me with his next words. “Ed Dorazio is too much of a risk. He needs to be taken out, and you’re the one who’s going to kill him for me.”
I let out a sardonic laugh. “No. No way. I’m not killing Ed.”
“Interesting response for someone in your position. Dorazio put your head in the lake the other night. He knocks you around all the time. You telling me you don’t have a twitchy finger to take him down? Come off it.” He drums his fingers on the armrest. “He’s on his hind legs, sniffing around, worried you’re screwing Farren Black’s daughter, and now he’s beside himself that I’m moving in with questions. Between Autumn and me, he’s trapped. So let’s cut a deal. You take him down, and I won’t have you arrested for murdering my son.”
My heart stops beating. I shrink back, inhaling the deepest breath of my life. “Who’s your son?” I ask, dropping my fisted hands on my thighs.
He sips his whiskey, calmly crossing his legs, eyes boring into me. “So you admit you’ve killed a man?”
“No.”
“Kid, listen carefully. I don’t like repeating myself.” He sets his glass on the table and leans forward, clasping his hands between his open legs. “Trevor struck—”
“Trevor?”
“Yes, my rotten son. He smacked my wife around and stole her car.”
“Jesus.” I throw my head back. It had to be the guy in the alley. It just had to be him.
“My slapdash drug dealer son.” He strokes his beard from cheek to chin. “I knew the day would come when he’d be arrested on drug charges or killed. And the press finding out about him dealing on the streets means my position would come under fire. Autumn was hired to take him out quietly. But she kept making excuses, saying it was never the right time, too many people around. Then, she found the right person to help her out.” He points at me. “Thanks.”
Ed’s warning was spot-on this time. “Putting a hit on your son was that easy for you?”
“We wanted the car back first.”
I laugh in disgust.
“It’s a nice Beamer.”
“I heard she got your car back from him.”
“Absolutely, she did. I wouldn’t expect any less from her. But by tailing him through the city, she found the corruption in District D. Now people are closing in on Dorazio.” He stares coldly at me. “You know that suffocating feeling, don’t you? When you’re in way over your head?”
I look away, catching sight of Autumn down on the ballroom floor. She’s talking to the two men who took me off the lake and drove me to her house.
Nick leans back and grins. “DEA,” he says.
“Who, them?”
He nods. “Good men. They’re in the building across from mine, in the one next to Autumn’s loft. Interesting that she knows them, I’d say Dorazio is in big trouble now.”
Autumn probes the room, looking at her watch. She leaves the conversation to find me.
“Kid, I’m not upset you killed my son. That’s not why you’re here. It was bound to happen.”
“I didn’t kill him.” My voice is too high, sounding like it’s coming from somewhere outside my body.
“Don’t.” His hand is up again. “I hate that back and forth nonsense. Autumn said she had your help. Lie again, and I’ll have Gage throw you over the balcony.”
Gage walks in and hands Nick a slip of paper, returning to his post next to the stairs. Nick opens it, the creases in his forehead deepening as he reads. “Fascinating.” He puts the paper face down on the armrest. “Dylan, there’re two things I need from you.”
“Two?” A shiver runs deep within my body. “I’m not killing two guys for you. I’m not even killing one.”
“You helped kil
l my son without any reservation, so I know you’re the right kid for the job. Just a nobody, as you said.” His knee nudges the table between us, swaying the liquor in the whiskey bottle. “You have until midnight to bring me Trevor’s body. It’s despicable that you left him out in that abandoned house. I’ll put him in a place where he can rest without being found. That’s my first request. Dorazio is the second.”
“I’ll bring you Trevor’s body tonight. But I’m not killing Eddie Dorazio.”
“Give me one good reason why not,” he says.
“Because he’s my dad’s best friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids.”
“I said a good reason.”
“Okay, he’s a cop.”
“A good reason.”
I stare at the floor, tilting my fancy dress shoes, looking at the hem on my pants. Sean warned me a hundred times that I was being set up, but I never listened to him. “Does Autumn know what you’re asking of me?”
“The less she knows about Dorazio, the better. As far as she’s concerned, you can say this is about Trevor. Mention Ed, and I’ll have you arrested for killing my son.” He pours himself a second glass of whiskey. “As a matter a fact, since Autumn was with you that night, take her back to that house so she can help move him back here.”
My phone rings. I take it out of my coat pocket and see Autumn’s name on the screen. Nick motions to pick up.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is anyone up there besides you two?”
“No. Just us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Trevor. Why didn’t you tell me who he was?”
She sighs. “Nick was clear that he didn’t want anyone on the streets to know Trevor was his son. Word would spread. Why is he asking you about him? I thought it was over.”
“He wants the body.”
There’s a long pause before she responds. “No. He told me to put him in that house.” A rage brews in her voice. “Put him on the phone, Dylan. He’s got something up his sleeve.”
I push the cell across the table, watching Autumn take a spin around the perimeter of the ballroom. She goes off on Nick, her face turning crimson red, the same shade as the Valentine decorations in the room.
“I don’t want him down in Lakeside. It was only temporary. Your friend needs to bring him to my private garage.” He uncrosses his legs. “Because Autumn, he’s my son, and you and this kid will do whatever the fuck I want. This isn’t a debate!” He tosses the cell into my lap, nostrils flaring.
I pick up the cell. “It’s no big deal. I can do this,” I tell her.
“It is a big deal. He wanted Trevor at that house. This is a trick, Dylan. I know it. I just know it. I’m coming up.”
“Don’t come up. Don’t do anything. He’ll have me arrested for killing him if I don’t do this. I’ll be down once I have the details.”
“Dylan, I’m … I’m so sorry. We just walked in. I didn’t know—”
“Autumn,” I whisper. “We’re good, okay?”
She hesitates before she says, “Okay.” She puts her cell in her clutch purse and walks past her dad’s table, sitting directly behind him.
“See that?” Nick points at her. “That’s a threat. Clinging to the police commissioner, as if he’d be able to stop me from carting you off to jail.”
“Why do you need me to do this?”
“Because Autumn was supposed to kill him, alone. No one else involved. No witnesses.”
“I’m not asking about Trevor. I’m …” I pause, chewing over what he just said.
He wanted her to kill Trevor. I knew that. But the way I’m hearing it now, it wasn’t only to cover up what his son was involved in. It sounds like he wanted a significant bargaining chip. And I got in the way.
“Why can’t one of your guys kill Ed?” I turn back to Gage. “Like him?”
“Street rats see to these dirty jobs. That’s far beneath my people.”
My foot shakes in a wild frenzy. Of course, it has to be done by someone not connected to him. Of course.
I lean forward and place my elbows on my knees, tapping my fingers on my lips. I lean back and exhale, in need of a cigarette. Only I don’t want Nick to see my trembling fingers when I light it.
“Look, kid. Dorazio protects a drug lord in his district. The guy pays him to do so.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Ed asks us to take the dealers down. He’s not working for them.”
“You help him take out the small-time dealers, not the main man. Not the guy he protects.” He winks. “Get it?”
I close my eyes, hanging my head low. Ed helps the top dealer thrive by eliminating the competition. Is that what this is all about? And Sean and I are the pawns?
“He’s good at covering his tracks,” Nick says. “The department and the entire city praise him. People think he’s a great cop, but he’s worse than the pushers. What a joke of a man, making sure the kingpin is safe, getting a hefty cut of the profits by doing so. He would’ve bumped Trevor off at some point. Just look at what happened to the guy in Autumn’s parking lot—”
“He’s dead,” I say. “His body was left at Ed’s house.”
“By Dorazio. Those cops that carted that kid away roughed him up as a warning, but they left him out on the streets. They weren’t the ones who killed him. Dorazio was seen picking him up later that night. Think about it. What better way to come across as innocent than to plant the body in his own driveway. Lazy ass couldn’t be bothered to take the kid to a crumbling house, as you did.”
I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. “Just arrest him.”
“And have an investigation into the city’s police force when I’m close to being up for re-election? I can’t have that.” He grimaces.
“I won’t kill him.” I shake my head repeatedly. “I can’t.”
“You will.”
“You don’t understand.” A muscle in my jaw twitches thinking about Heather and her note. “I can’t, and I won’t. Ed has something that I desperately need. He’s my last hope at getting it.”
“Kid”—he picks up the sheet of paper from the armrest and waves it in the air—“I have a copy of something you desperately need. You don’t need Dorazio for a damn thing.”
I burst from the chair, knocking the table out of the way. “Give it to me.” I reach for it, seeing Heather’s handwriting. “I’ll do whatever the hell you want, just let me read it!”
His foot launches into my gut, the kick sending me to my knees. I cradle my stomach, bent over and teary-eyed.
“Fucking hurts, doesn’t it?” He folds the paper and tucks it into his jacket pocket. “What were you doing the night she died?”
“Nothing.” I cough.
“Ed said you were at a dealer’s house, and this girl, Heather, she saw someone get killed. Is that right? That’s my guess.” He taunts me by patting his breast pocket. “Who died?”
“What?” I lift my head.
“You remember?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Was Dorazio at the river?”
“Wait, what?” I close my eyes to think. “Stop it. Stop confusing me!” I pull out the Glock and point it at his head. “Give me her note.”
Gage rushes next to me, setting the muzzle of his gun to the side of my head.
Nick’s fingers return to a steeple formation, a delighted look on his face. “Bring Trevor’s body here before midnight. There’s a private drive on the east side of the mansion that leads to an underground garage. Gage will be waiting to let you in. Then kill Dorazio.” He pats his pocket. “It’s yours after that.”
“You’ll have someone kill me before I ever have a chance to read it.” I take a riled breath. “Show it to me now, and I’ll do whatever you want.”
“If I were you, I’d lower that gun before the entire ballroom
sees your profile.”
“Don’t shoot him yet,” Gage says into a clip-on mic.
I glance down at the ballroom floor, counting three, five, eight men with their hands glued inside their jackets, waiting for the signal to pull out their guns.
“Think about that miserable night last year,” Nick says. “Go over it in your head again and again. Remember what you were doing for Dorazio, who was there, and who was lost because of it, and I bet you’ll change your mind about killing him. Dump Dorazio in the same house in Lakeside. He won’t be found till spring.”
I slide the Glock back in my pants, hearing Autumn’s high heels clicking on the wooden corkscrew stairs. She reaches the top landing with a hardened expression set on Nick. Our five minutes apart have aged her by ten years. She looks desperate to get me out of here.
Nick has dirt on her. I can sense there’s more to this charade than their past relationship, and by the apparent sense of hatred on her dad’s face as he looks up here, I’d say it might have something to do with him, not her. She might be protecting her dad.
She reaches out, wanting me to come to her, but I insist she come stand by my side. And she does.
“I’m going with you,” she whispers, sadness clouding her features.
“Yes, you are,” Nick responds for me.
I lift a hand toward the stairs, looking back at Nick with flat eyes as we leave the lion’s den. Tragically, “A Long December” begins to play in the ballroom. Images of winter darkness, words scrawled out, and a man in serious longing flash in my mind.
Or maybe that’s my life flashing before my eyes.
23
I tell Autumn not to speak, and that I’m angry, but not at her. She sits still and listens, hanging on my every word. She keeps looking in the back seat at Trevor—gray, ice-covered, and stiff.
My sentences are choppy. I’m troubled. I remind her I’ve been through a lot, and I can’t take much more. That it’s too much, and I deserve a break.
I ask her if she thinks Nick will expect more from me after this, or if I’m just going to be killed. Then I tell her not to answer that.
“Don’t speak, Autumn. I’m working things out in my head. Don’t interrupt. I’m thinking out loud.” I said the same thing to her on the drive to the abandoned house, starting in on this tirade some time ago.
In Autumn's Wake Page 22