The Murder Run

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The Murder Run Page 9

by Michael P. King


  “Not Zed?”

  “Zed doesn’t like women. Billy always takes care of me. I’ve heard from his guy. We’ll have a couple of combat kits tomorrow. That’s the good news.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “You’re going to the vet.”

  “Woof.”

  She activated her new phone and called the Happy Pets Clinic. The call rolled over to the automated message, which gave an emergency number. She called that.

  “Danny Newberry.”

  “Billy told me to call you.”

  “I’ve been expecting your call.”

  “Can you come to us?”

  “It would be better to meet at the clinic. Pull around the back. I’ll let you in through the service door. You know the address?”

  “We’re on our way.” She ended the call.

  “So we’re going to the vet’s,” Tony said.

  “We need to get you dressed.”

  “I’ve got a change of clothes in my go bag.”

  She pulled a shirt and pants out of the go bag and helped him get dressed. “Can you walk to the car?”

  “I made it this far. Grab my gun off the dresser.”

  She glanced out the motel room door. No one was in the parking lot. She walked Tony to the Camry and closed his door for him before she climbed into the driver’s seat and input the address of Happy Pets Clinic into her smartphone. She took a right on Brockville Road, heading into town. A few more turns and they were on Washington Trail. Happy Pets was located in a strip of shops next to Painted Poodles Dog Groomers. Nicole drove through the empty parking lot to the service door at the back. As she helped Tony out of the car, the door opened. A tall black man stood in the threshold. “You the Missus?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s your man?”

  “Yes. How do you know Billy?”

  “He helped me sort out a problem. Come on.”

  Newberry led them down a hallway into what looked like a surgical suite. “The operating table is a little short—my largest patient is a Great Dane—but everything I need is in here.” Newberry looked at him appraisingly. “Take your shirt and pants off.”

  Tony lay on the table in his boxer shorts. His ankles and feet hung off the end. Newberry slipped a surgical gown over his street clothes and put on throwaway gloves. “Let’s have a look.”

  He cut away the duct tape to reveal a small hole seeping blood at the center of a large purple-and-yellow bruise. He swabbed the wound. “I’ve seen worse. I was a medic in the army.”

  “And now you’re a vet,” Tony said.

  “I like animals. Can you roll up on your side?” Newberry looked at Tony’s back. “Looks like it went through. Odd trajectory, like it was coming from below.”

  “Ricocheted up under my vest.”

  He pointed toward a doorway. “Better get an x-ray.” He glanced at Nicole. “Help me navigate this table.”

  They rolled Tony into the x-ray room. Newberry took an x-ray of the wound area and pulled up the image on a computer. “No fragments. At least not close by. This looks good.”

  They rolled Tony back into the surgery. “You’re a lucky guy. Two inches over, and I’d be sending you to the emergency room. I’m going to inject a local anesthetic, clean the wound, and stitch it up,” Newberry said.

  After he was finished, he taped a dressing on both sides of the wound. “Six weeks to full recovery. Stay out of the shower for four days. I’m going to give you some antibiotics. If you get any puss, give me a call. Stitches out in a week. No running or lifting for the next couple of weeks. It’s probably going to hurt when the anesthetic wears off.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” Tony pulled on his pants.

  “What do we owe you?” Nicole asked.

  Newberry shook his head. “This is between me and Billy.” He walked them to the back door and switched on the outside light.

  The wind had come up. Clouds were boiling in the night sky, and they could hear the traffic on the interstate in the distance. Nicole opened the passenger door for Tony. “I should have had Newberry put a GPS chip in you while I had you in there. Make you easier to find next time.”

  “You think there’s going to be a next time?”

  She got in the driver’s seat and backed out from behind the clinic. “These jobs you’ve been picking have been nothing but trouble.”

  “I’ve been having a string of bad luck, no doubt about it.”

  “Bad luck?”

  He grinned. “I thought with being shot and all, I’d get a few more days of peace before you reamed me a new one for being an idiot.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time to run?”

  “I’m not running.” He caught her up with what had happened.

  “I told you not to trust Missy.”

  “I didn’t trust her.”

  “She probably told them you were coming after them at the airport.”

  “All true.”

  “So why aren’t we running?”

  “Bastards killed Duke and Barker. Tried to kill me. Besides, that crooked Fed’s reach is probably too long.”

  “Maybe they think you’re dead.”

  “Maybe. Remember the El Paso job? Garcia—the good Fed—claims she can close that case if I bring her the blackmail info.”

  “It’s not blackmail info.”

  “Yeah. It’s probably stolen intel of some sort.”

  She took a right at the red light. “And she’s not going to close that case. We’d need an FBI supervisor under our thumb to do that.”

  “Maybe. But I’m still not running. The crooked Fed, those other assholes, and let’s not forget Missy.”

  “We could come back for Missy later.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “You’ve already got all the money.”

  He shook his head. “When I leave here, there’s going to be less people looking for me than there are now and a lot more people dead who were trying to kill me.”

  “You’re a stubborn bastard. If you hadn’t been in such a hurry to get even, you wouldn’t have gotten ambushed. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Rub it in.”

  “You’re right. I’m rubbing it in. You’re not going to get me killed.”

  He smiled. “So you’re going to help me?”

  “Of course I’m going to help you. It’s always us. Period.”

  “I love to hear you say that.” He leaned back in his seat, watching her drive, a satisfied look on his face.

  After a few minutes, she said, “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nobody knows you’re here. We’re going to keep it that way. Tomorrow, if I’m doing okay, we’re going to start shaking the trees. And you’re going to see what falls out.”

  Back at the motel, after Tony went to sleep, Nicole watched him in the light that slanted into the room from the half-open bathroom door. Some food, some medical attention, some TLC, and he already looked much better. The only other time he’d been shot was when she’d shot him to keep Buddy from killing him, and that had been a similar situation. He’d gotten in too big a hurry to read the tells properly. She brushed his hair back off his forehead. Her pretty boy. She sipped her whiskey. But when he got on a roll, he was unstoppable. He could tell any lie and steal anything from anybody. They had so much fun together. But what about her other boy?

  She set down her drink and picked up her phone. It was still early on the West Coast. She couldn’t put it off any longer. She speed-dialed Denison. The phone rang four times before he picked up.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Everything is fine. I got Tony all fixed up.”

  “When are you coming home?”

  “A couple of days of nursing should get the job done.”

  “You aren’t doing anything crazy?”

  “No, I’m just looking after Tony.”

  “Good.”

  “How’s Lily?”

&
nbsp; “I haven’t heard from her,” he said.

  “That’s probably a good sign.”

  “Or a very bad one.”

  “She’s not your problem.”

  He sighed. “I miss you already. This is the first night you’ve been away since you came here.”

  “Don’t worry, Jimmy. In a few days I’ll be back.”

  “We’ll find something for you to do—something you like. I know a career counselor.”

  She laughed. “Now you’re teasing me.”

  “No, really, you’ve got amazing people skills. We’ll find something where you can be anonymous, use your skills, enjoy some excitement.”

  “You don’t have to worry, sweetie. I’m coming back to you. We’ll figure things out.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Friday morning, Tony and Nicole sat in a cracked vinyl booth in the window of the Trucker’s Delight diner. The air smelled of old cooking grease and burned bacon. The morning rush was made up of four truckers and a mom and dad with two young kids who were pondering their location on an iPad. Tony and Nicole were eating pancakes and eggs and keeping an eye on the front of their motel across the divided highway. Nicole had already packed up the motel room and wiped it down. She had found them another motel, a Quality Inn, using her Caroline Webber credit card. Their plan was breakfast, clothes shopping for Tony, and picking up the heavy gear from Billy’s guy. Then off to the new motel. Tony would rest up while Nicole scouted out Missy. If she wasn’t dead, she was their best hope of gaining information on the bad guys.

  Tony set his cutlery on his plate and pushed the plate away. “I am so full I could fall asleep right here.”

  Nicole dipped the corner of her toast in her egg yolk. “I’ve eaten better.”

  “Don’t start. You’ve been in San Francisco too long. This breakfast is reasonably decent for most of the US.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Tony took a sip of coffee. “Time to start making it rain.” He called Missy. The phone rang, but no one answered and the voice mailbox was full. “So much for Missy.”

  “You didn’t think she’d pick up, did you?”

  He took out the phone Garcia had given him and clicked on the only phone number.

  Garcia picked up on the second ring. “I thought you were dead.”

  “A common misperception.”

  “You got anything for me?”

  “Hang on. I’m texting you a pic of the guys from the airport who picked up Clemens.” He looked at the face of the phone, found the picture in his cloud storage, then sent it to her phone number. He put the phone back to his ear. “Your guy—the one who has the envelope—is in the middle.”

  “Yeah, I know him. The other two guys I don’t. And Clemens was found in a dumpster in an alley. Bad break. He was working for us.”

  “So these fellas have been taking out the trash from the very beginning?”

  “You’ve got a funny way of talking about the good guys.”

  “Your case going up in smoke? Who do you have left to testify?”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “You remember that woman who was with me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “She turn up dead?”

  “Haven’t seen her. Why? You looking for her? What do you want her for?”

  “We going to start being honest with each other?”

  “I’m still waiting on that envelope.”

  “If you want that envelope, all you have to do is talk with your colleague.”

  “You’re very funny. Get me that envelope, and you’ll get your get-out-of-jail-free card.”

  “Now who’s funny?”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  Tony put the phone away. “Clemens is dead, and Missy is probably still on the loose.”

  “So we stick with our plan?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nicole glanced at the check and put some money on the table.

  During lunch, Lily went back to Lucky Joe’s. In the daylight, without music, it was just another dimly lit, rundown neighborhood bar that smelled of sour beer, dirty clothes, and wasted dreams. Four retired guys were gathered in the back corner. Big Eddie was sitting on a stool behind the bar, wheezing with every breath. He smiled when he saw her and slid onto his feet. “Hey, girl. Look at you.” He gestured toward her clothes. “Didn’t make you for the office type. What you drinking?”

  “Hey, Eddie. Nothing for me. The reason I’m here—could you do me a favor?”

  He wiped the bar with a rag. “Favor, huh? Depends on what it is.”

  She stood up on her toes to lean over the bar toward him. He bent down. “I was here on Tuesday.”

  “Cowboy band.”

  “Two guys jumped me in the parking lot.”

  The look in his eye said that he thought she might be trying to shake him down. “No shit.”

  “A couple came out. Scared them off. They drove me home. I was so flustered I didn’t call the police. I mean, it was crazy.”

  He nodded.

  “But now, I think maybe I should. I just don’t know if it would do any good.”

  “You point those guys out next time they’re here, they won’t bother anybody else.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “No problem.”

  “It’s just that I was wondering if I could see the parking lot video. If it’s clear what’s happening, then I’d have evidence for the cops.”

  “That video is private property.”

  “I know.”

  “And this neighborhood has been going downhill. Could give this place a black eye.”

  “But if girls knew you were going to protect them, that you were going to have a no-tolerance policy for jerks, that could be good for business.”

  “Maybe.” He patted the back of her hand. “I like you, Lily. I’d like to think we were friends. So let’s take a look at the video. I’m not promising anything, but let’s just take a look.”

  He turned toward the back corner. “Mikey.” One of the retired guys looked up. “Watch the bar for a few minutes.”

  Big Eddie led the way into the back room. A Kmart desk with a computer on it was crammed into a corner next to a stack of liquor boxes. He sat down in the chair and opened the video recording program. “Last Tuesday.” He pulled up the day. “About what time?”

  “It was early. Ten, ten thirty.”

  She moved up to stand behind him. He clicked on the 10:00 p.m. marker. “Okay. Here we go.” The video shot forward at triple speed. When Lily came out into the parking lot, Big Eddie slowed the video to normal. The video was black and white, and the lighting wasn’t very good. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  She was walking up the parking lot. When she stopped by the BMW, Shaved Head and Comb-over moved into the picture. She knew it was them, remembered her fear, but the video was too poor to identify them. “Can you sharpen the image?”

  He shook his head. “If I zoom in, it just gets blurrier. This is just to scare off burglars and car thieves.”

  “Stop there.”

  He stopped the video. Shaved Head had her pinned against the car. She could feel his hands on her. Her stomach rolled.

  Big Eddie muttered, “Sorry bastard.”

  But in the video, Shaved Head was impossible to identify. He could have been anybody. She looked down at the trunk of the car. The surface of the license plate was bright. The numbers were dark. She thought she could make out most of them. She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and wrote down what she saw without Big Eddie noticing.

  “There’s nothing here,” she said.

  Big Eddie swiveled his chair. “Tough break, kid. I wish the video could have helped. Those assholes got a beating coming. You point them out, I’ll put some guys on them.”

  “Thanks for taking the time.”

  Lily squinted in the bright light as she stepped
out onto the street in front of the bar. She found Nicole’s number in the address book on her phone. “Hey, it’s me. Is this a bad time?”

  “No. I’ve got a few minutes. What’s up?”

  Lily told her what had happened. “Tough break,” Nicole said. “But maybe we can work with the license plate number. There’s two numbers you’re not sure of. But one of them is either a five or an S. That’s not really that many options. I know a guy who can track these numbers, provide info on all the possible license plates so we can figure out which one is your guy. Then we’ll know who he is, where he lives, everything about him. If that’s what you want.”

  “Can’t we do something simpler?”

  “You could set up a meeting with him like you’re going to screw him and then send some guys to beat on him.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Then you need some leverage. You can’t get it if you don’t know who he is.”

  “Okay. Call your friend.”

  “It’ll cost a few bucks.”

  “How much?”

  “Depends on how hard it is to track the numbers. Maybe a couple hundred. Maybe more. You got yourself in a jam. If you want peace of mind, it’s going to take some money to straighten things out.”

  Lily held her phone against her chest. She could hear Shaved Head’s voice in her mind. Even if she moved, changed jobs, she’d never know when he might turn up, catch her somewhere in the dark, knowing she wouldn’t call the police. She couldn’t live like this. Always afraid. But would Nicole’s plan work? “I hear what you’re saying. It makes sense. But how do you know hackers? How do you know who to call and what to plan? I mean, going for that joyride is the most illegal thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Lily, I don’t have time to share my life story or convince you of anything. Either you trust me or you don’t. What do you want to do?”

  “Okay. Call your guy.”

  “Give me the license plate number. I’ll be back in touch when I have the info.”

  “Who was that?” Tony asked.

  They were sitting in the Camry facing out of a picnic spot in the back end of Memorial Park, the largest park in Mitchellville. Tall evergreen bushes shielded their right side, and a thick grove of pine provided cover from the right. Tony’s Glock lay in his lap.

 

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