The Murder Run

by Michael P. King

  “Lily.” Nicole explained what had happened.

  “I told you. Picking up strays. It’ll be the death of you. You should have turned her away at the door.”

  “Even if I had wanted to, I couldn’t have explained it to James.”

  “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. He would have believed anything you said.”

  “Tony, this is a big problem for Lily, even if it’s nothing to us. She got into this problem doing what I showed her. I’m just going to guide her through it.”

  “And how much will she end up knowing about you?”

  “That’s not a problem.”

  “It’s always a problem. If she’s not with us, it’s a problem.”

  A rusty red-and-white Bronco came down the road toward them and flashed its lights. “Here he comes.” Nicole flashed back.

  “We’re not done talking about this,” Tony said.

  The Bronco backed in next to them. A middle-aged woman wearing a sleeveless button-up shirt and a cowboy hat lowered her window. Tony lowered his window with his left hand and held his pistol in his right.

  “Howdy,” the woman said. “Pretty day, ain’t it? Who are you folks?”

  “I’m the Traveling Man.”

  “And I’m the Missus. Who are you?”

  She smiled. “Billy sends his regards. Your gear is in the back.”

  Nicole popped the trunk on the Camry, and the woman lifted the back on the Bronco. Two short cases, a long case, and a bag sat in the cargo space. She opened one of the short cases. It contained an AR-15 rifle, a Glock 17, and a Kevlar vest. “Other one’s the same.” She opened the long case. A sniper rifle sat in the foam.

  “Quality gear,” Tony said.

  “And here’s the tech.” Inside the bag were communications headsets and tracking devices.

  “Great,” Nicole said.

  They moved the gear into the Camry.

  “Thanks for the business,” the woman said.

  “Tell Billy we appreciate the help,” Tony said. “You go first.”

  They watched the Bronco leave the picnic spot and disappear down the road into the woods. Then Nicole drove off the road and into the park, bouncing over the terrain and meandering through the trees until she came to another road. A kid’s birthday party was being set up under a shelter near the park entrance—bright banner and balloons tied to the posts—when they turned out of the park. No one was following them.

  “That’s the amount of care you should always take,” Tony said. “Not trusting some stranger, no matter who sent them.”

  “Yeah. Or maybe you shouldn’t go off half-cocked just because you think you know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m just saying that doing some dirt with someone is not the same as knowing them.”

  “And who had to come out here to save who?” Nicole replied.

  “This time.”

  “I think maybe it’s time for your nap.”

  Midafternoon, Nicole sat in the Camry across the street and down the block from Missy’s condo. Most of the on-street parking was full. The row houses were all newly renovated and tastefully landscaped with small trees and bright-green shrubs. No one had been in or out of the condo in over an hour, and no one appeared to be watching it. Nicole was wearing a black pantsuit with an open-collar pink shirt. If anyone asked, she was a real estate agent. She got out of the car with a small bag over her shoulder and a clipboard in her hand. She walked purposefully down the sidewalk, crossed the street at an angle, and strode up the steps to Missy’s row house. She reached in her bag as if she were grabbing her keys, brought out her lock picks, and was inside in a matter of seconds.

  The row house was decorated in an arty, contemporary style. Not Missy at all. Nicole moved quickly through the rooms, glancing in the closets as she went. There was no landline phone with a voice mail to listen to, no desk piled with papers to sort through, no mess to indicate that somebody else had searched the house. She called Tony. “Nothing here. The girlfriend must be a good three inches taller than Missy.”

  “Have you gone by her gallery?”

  “That’s my next stop. I came here first.”

  “I reached out to Kevin with that license plate number.”

  “Why not just use Billy?”

  “Don’t want anyone knowing too much about our business. Besides, Kevin owes us a favor. It’ll be cheaper for your girl.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nicole drove downtown into the shopping district. The gallery—American Moderns—was located midblock between an antique furniture shop and Zelda Jane’s Interior Design Studio. Two women’s torsos, sculpted in white clay, were on display in the window. Nicole pushed through the glass door. Large abstract paintings hung on the side and back walls. The interior was filled with sculptures, while jewelry was in a case at the back.

  “Good afternoon.” A young woman in a black dress, her right arm tattooed from the back of her hand all the way up to her shoulder, smiled as she walked toward her.

  “Is Betty here?”

  “She’s on a buying trip. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll try back another time. Tell her Carrie Traveler stopped by to see her girlfriend.”

  When she came back out onto the street, she noticed a guy sitting in a pickup truck where he could keep an eye on the gallery. Military haircut, sunglasses, cigarette in one hand—the kind of guy who would be completely at home in a third-world hot spot. Nicole sauntered along, playing the window-shopping game. As she walked, she got out her phone and took a picture of the window display in a dress shop. Then, as she moved to put the phone away, she took pictures of the guy and the license plate of his truck. She walked around the block to get back to her car so that she wouldn’t have to walk past him and risk drawing attention to herself.

  She called Tony. “The girlfriend is in hiding. A probable merc is watching the gallery.”

  “So Missy doesn’t trust her playmates. You leave a message?”

  “Uh-huh. Should I start tailing the merc?”

  “No. We don’t want the bad guys to catch sight of you. They don’t get to see you until it’s too late.”

  “I’m headed back to you. What kind of takeout do you want?”

  “Chinese would be good.” There was a pause. “And pick up some beer.”

  Nicole pulled into an alley to turn around. She took a left at the stop light. The traffic was stop and go. It seemed like everyone was trying to get out of the downtown business district at the same time. She took a right and found herself stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on a one-way street. Her Nicole phone rang. It was Denison.

  “Hey, honey.” She tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Is this a good time?” Denison asked.

  “Absolutely. I’m stuck in traffic.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting some takeout.”

  “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

  “Relax, Jimmy. I’m not interacting with any of the players. I’m just taking care of Tony.”

  “How is he?”

  “He’s doing great. Getting his strength back. It’s only going to be a few more days, then I’ll be back home.”

  “Good.”

  “How are you?”

  “Okay. Running into some NIMBY issues with the new facility, but nothing we can’t handle. Bell sent some pictures of the wedding venue last night.”

  “What did she end up choosing?”

  “The university’s convention center. They had a cancellation. It’s next to the arboretum, so there’ll be lots of great outdoor pictures. It’s a turnkey deal—everything’s included. She says that the food’s not great, but it’s as good as you can get for a hundred people out there.”

  “No one will remember the food.”

  “That’s for sure. Did you see her dress?”

  “Yeah. She sent m
e a pic. A little retro for me, but it looks great on her.”

  “It’s sort of modeled on her mom’s,” Denison replied.

  Nicole pulled into the parking at the Szechwan House. “What’s the rest of your day look like?”

  “Nothing special. What about you?”

  “I’m going to eat some Chinese and watch TV.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. See you in a few days.”

  She got out of the car and started across the parking lot to the restaurant. He could play a good game, but she could hear the worry in his voice. He couldn’t quite believe that she was doing nothing dangerous, and he was right. But there was no way she was going to tell him what she was really up to. This wasn’t his world. He wouldn’t understand.

  Later that evening, at the Quality Inn, after they’d checked over their new gear, loaded the guns, and tested the tech, Nicole inspected Tony’s wounds while he sat in his boxer shorts on the edge of the bed. “These look good. Only the edges of the stitches are red.”

  “Feels a lot better.”

  “Antibiotics probably help.”

  She put a large Band-Aid over each side of the wound. “There you go.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her.

  “None of that. We’re not going to start anything that could tear your stitches.”

  “Fucking Missy Grey.” He scooted back against the headboard.

  Nicole came around the bed and scooted up beside him.

  “You talking to Denison?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How’s he taking it?”

  “For starters, in his mind, every job is like Nohamay City or Cricket Bay.”

  “So he’s churning.”

  “Mentally, he knew you might call, but emotionally, he was convinced it would never happen.”

  “Bouncing off the walls.”

  “On top of that, he knows I’m having adjustment problems, so he’s afraid I won’t come back. Offered to set me up with a career counselor.”

  Tony chuckled. “That guy is a problem solver. That’s his default mode.”

  “Yeah, he’s so sweet. That’s the one way he’s just like you.”

  Tony ignored her last statement. “But he’s right. You’ve got to get integrated into that life if it’s going to stick.”

  “I’ll probably take him up on his offer just to calm him down. But the real problem is that pretending to do a thing so you can steal from someone is a lot more fun than actually doing a thing.”

  “Especially when you’re pretending to do a thing so you can steal from a crook.”

  She nodded. “Change of subject. Are you finally ready to give up on this BS? Missy’s a dead end.”

  “I don’t think so. I think she’s still on the move.”

  “Doesn’t mean we can find her.”

  “You left a message for the girlfriend, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not giving up yet. I’m Missy’s best bet to stay alive, and she knows it. She’ll be in touch.”

  7

  Tightrope

  Midmorning, Nicole and Tony were sitting at the table by the window in their motel room, playing cards and keeping an eye on the parking lot. They could hear a cleaner vacuuming the room next door. Their car was packed to leave. They’d been to breakfast at a crowded McDonald’s two exits south. Now they were waiting, hoping Missy’s girlfriend had relayed the message. Tony’s phone rang. He glanced at the number and smiled.

  “How you doing, sugar?”

  “I want to talk,” Missy said.

  “I bet.”

  “You okay?”

  “Still breathing. I’ve had plenty of time to make my to-do list.”

  “Hey, no one was supposed to get hurt. You guys were supposed to get the envelope and give it to Chen. That’s all.”

  “But that’s not what happened.”

  “I know.”

  “So why are you calling me? I appreciate your apology—if that’s what it is. But it doesn’t let you off the hook, not by a long shot. There’s you, and there’s your girl.”

  “Slow down now. There’s no reason to make threats. I called you, okay? I can’t trust those guys, and it looks like my guy doesn’t have the juice to keep them off me.”

  “And you’re hoping I can help.”

  “Who did you send to the gallery?”

  “That was a cute little trick, wasn’t it?”

  “Look, we’ve got the same problem. We could be on the same side.”

  “So we meet, and you tell me everything you know about these assholes, including your boy.”

  “You promise not to kill me?”

  “You stupid enough to take my word?”

  “Hightower Park, benches next to the playground, tomorrow at one o’clock.”

  “See you there.” He set down his phone.

  “So what’s the deal?” Nicole asked.

  “We’re in business. I’m meeting Missy tomorrow.”

  “By yourself?”

  “She sounded like she was really afraid. She’s going to give up that crew in hopes I won’t kill her.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not a setup.”

  “But if it’s not, I’m well on my way to killing all of those bastards. Let’s think this through.” He was quiet for a moment. “We’re meeting in Hightower Park. You’re going to be set up with the sniper rifle. If you see any of those guys, you start shooting. That’s my insurance policy. But if she’s ready to deal, we’ll find out everything she knows about that crew. And then when she leaves, you tail her.”

  “You’re going to be wearing a vest.”

  “Only an idiot would go to this meeting without Kevlar and a gun.”

  Back in San Francisco Bay, Sanders sat in his BMW in the parking lot of All Stars dance studio, playing solitaire on his smartphone. The parking lot was full. The sun was hot. Two moms and a dad were sitting on benches by the entrance chatting, but Sanders didn’t mix with the other dance parents. That was his wife’s job. He won his game and glanced at the time. Twenty more minutes. Next year, when his daughter could drive, he’d never have to come here again. It couldn’t happen soon enough. One of the moms got up and stretched her arms over her head. She was a fine-looking specimen—thin, athletic, no cellulite yet. Her daughter must be one of the grade-schoolers, or she was nineteen when she pushed out her first.

  His mind wandered to the car thief. She was a tasty tidbit. He hadn’t heard back from her. Was she ignoring him, thinking that he’d just forget about her debt? He was going to make sure she was so intimidated that she would never tell anyone what had happened. And if she’d sleep with him in the meantime, so much the better. He took her phone out of his glove box. Password-protected. She could call him, but he couldn’t call her. He knew where she lived, but there was no landline associated with that address. And he knew where she worked. There was a business card in her bag. Did she work on Saturdays? He took out his own phone and called the number.

  “Travel Dreams.”

  “Hello, Lily. You haven’t called me back yet. Your friends are beginning to wonder why a man is answering your phone. Maybe they think we’re dating.”

  “You better leave me alone.”

  “Or what? You going to call the police? You going to tell them how I ended up with your handbag?”

  “It was a mistake, okay?”

  “It certainly turned into one. We’re going to get together. You’re going to give me what I want, and maybe I’ll give you your bag back. Or I could turn it in to the police.”

  “It’s too late for that.”

  “I’m the one with the authority. And the witness. Who are you?”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “You know what you need to do.”

  He ended the call. Getting into her head was so easy. How many times would he get to fuck her before he was finally tired of her?

  Lily set her phone down. Why had she done it? It seemed cra
zy just thinking about it now. She looked at her computer screen. She had two sets of itineraries to finish before noon, but she couldn’t focus. She needed coffee. She pushed away from her desk. Why had she thought that stealing the car keys was a good idea? She went down the hall into the break room. The coffee pot was half-empty. She poured a cup and added two sugars. That guy was the worst sort of creep. There was no way she was going to sleep with him.

  Her officemate Chrissie came into the break room, a bottle of ibuprofen in her hand. “Hey, Lily,” she said. She got a cup of water from the watercooler and downed two ibuprofen. “I’ve got that sharp pain behind my left eye. No more rosé wine.” She pushed her messy blonde curls out of her face. “What’s up with you? You okay? You need an ibuprofen?”

  Lily shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “Late night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too. We were all at Trixie’s for women’s night. Where were you?”

  “Long story. Tell you about it later. I’ve got to get back to my desk.”

  She went back into the front office. Had Nicole found out anything? Anything that could help? She got out the Walmart phone Nicole had told her to buy.

  “Hey,” Nicole said. “How are you?”

  “Not good. He called me at work. He threatened to call the cops. He—”

  “Slow down. My friend came back with a pile of info. We’re going to figure out who he is, and we’re going to shut him down.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’m in the middle of something. It’s going to take a couple more days. So just stall him and stay out of his way. As soon as I get back, we’ll put together a plan to deal with him.”

  “How can you be so confident?”

  “Just do what I say.”

  “I don’t see how—”

  “Just stall him. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  She sat down at her desk. How could Nicole be so sure? What did she really know about her? What kind of person was she? Chitchatting. Hustling drinks. Going for a joyride. The wedding reception flashed through her mind. The car key game had been a step too far, but at the time it had just seemed like a harmless dare. Something with no downside at all. But hiring a hacker? That was completely illegal, and she’d agreed to it because it seemed like the only way to get leverage on this guy. What would Nicole propose next? What would happen if the police caught them doing whatever Nicole had in mind?