by Nico Rosso
“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie already had his keys out. “I’ll drive.”
Before Mary could accept or refuse, Donna redirected. “Now, when you say mixed use—” she started walking mid-sentence as a way to force Mary to follow, “—do you mean to bring in new businesses, or relocate the locals?”
The three of them made their way across the lobby.
“Both,” Mary answered. “It’s always good to get established businesses into new facilities for the familiarity of the residents. The last thing we want to do is edge anyone out.”
“Good.” Donna pointed at the opening automatic doors, as if they were following her direction. “You’ll see that we’re very committed to local business. Very few chains in Morris Flats.”
Meaning less scrutiny from the outside and the ability of the power structure to control the population.
The cold, windy day swirled over the parking lot. Mary zipped her coat higher, smiling sheepishly at her intolerance of the weather. Donna and Eddie smiled knowingly. But they knew nothing of what Mary really was and who they were letting into their excessively large SUV. One non-standard feature in the vehicle was the police radio slung under the center of the dash. It was switched off for now, but it revealed how quickly information could move through Morris Flats. The two of them seemed too chipper to have been up all night with the police activity, but Mary was sure they’d been briefed that morning.
Once they were all inside, Mary made a show of shivering in the backseat. “Younger buyers are very interested in one-of-a-kind goods and services, so you’ll have a great selling point down here.”
Eddie drove. West, as Mary expected. Away from the train yard. Ben should be there by now, on the front line, while she was moving farther from it and him. And if anything happened in this car, or wherever they were taking her, his support would take a while to reach her.
“Lincoln High.” Eddie didn’t linger as he drove past the old buildings that needed new paint and windows.
Mary added limply, “Good central location.” She wanted to ask what the graduation rate was but knew Donna would’ve already boasted if it had been good.
Donna sang, “People love to be close to schools.”
“Infrastructure is a huge selling point.” Mary watched the homes blur past. Nothing older than the fifties. Working class, most with fenced yards. Maintained with pride. As they moved closer to the west edge of town, the houses slumped with neglect. Weedy lots stretched out and blended with the plains. Old industrial buildings sat, forgotten in the muddy fields.
Perfect place to end a life.
Neither Donna nor Eddie had any flinch about them that indicated death was close. Their hands and eyes were too soft for professional killers. If the hit was on, they’d be tight, even if they weren’t the ones pulling the trigger.
“Plenty of parking,” Mary mused. Her .38 remained close in her purse.
Donna tapped her fingernail on the window glass. “Development could mean state bond money for improved roads, too.”
Bullshit small talk. Donna and Eddie didn’t want any state attention on their town. They didn’t want any new money or residents. They wanted her as far from the train yard as possible while she was in Morris Flats, then they wanted her long gone so they didn’t have to return her phone calls or emails.
She smiled and nodded while her insides ground together. Time wasted. Ben was across town in Kit Daily’s territory. Anything could happen as they tore at the sutures that held this town’s festering secrets tight. She needed to be there. For the mission. For Ben.
* * *
Mary was right—the train yard reeked of military gun oil. To anyone who hadn’t been in the service, it would’ve blended in with the diesel fuel and axle grease, but Ben knew it well. He nearly rubbed his fingers together while remembering the slick of it. Would that have given him away? Maybe. The gesture was the kind of detail he’d notice.
And after last night’s police action, everyone would be on alert. He remained edgy. Too much time had passed since contact with Mary. It wasn’t outside the operational bounds, but it would’ve made him breathe a little easier if he knew her position and could relate his current action.
He approached the train yard administrative buildings as a salesman full of optimism. Bounding up the stairs, he reached the metal patio when a large, rectangular man stepped out of a door to confront him. Ben recognized the shape of the foreman from last night’s grainy view. Now he had the details, from the man’s shoulder holster under his coat to the tired eyes that were clearly not interested in buying what Ben was selling.
“You’re going to have to call first to make an appointment.” The foreman hadn’t shaved and looked to be propped up on several cups of coffee.
“My business isn’t that serious.” He pushed up his coat sleeve to reveal his bracelet. “We make these performance bands and thought your hard workers might benefit from them.”
The foreman shook his head. “We’re too busy down here.” The clanging of bells and heavy equipment proved his point. Men’s voices shouted from the tracks on the other side of the admin buildings.
“Fair enough.” Ben relaxed his pitch and saw the relief on the foreman’s face. “I can come back around the lunch hour. When’s that?”
The lines drew out again down the corners of the foreman’s face. “Depends on the shift.” His patience was being strained. He looked like he wanted to take a threatening step toward Ben, but only teetered at the edge of it. The door he came out of cracked, and he glanced back at it before hitting Ben with a stern, “I really don’t think this is the place for you.”
The door opened wider. If a shooter was coming, Ben could keep the foreman between him and the trouble end of a gun. He had his compact auto on his ankle. Or he could take the foreman’s piece before his clumsy hands could pull it.
“Now, he’s just trying to do his job.” A barrel of a man in his fifties stepped out of the door. Blue jeans and a wool blazer. A .45 1911 rested in a tooled leather holster on his hip. Clean cowboy boots. He smiled like he didn’t mean it, spreading a white mustache across his broad face. He still had the old-school jarhead haircut. This had to be Kit Daily.
Chief Pulaski walked out behind him onto the metal porch. “Careful, Kit, this kid’s a baller.” Exhaustion rimmed his eyes red but he still managed a look of disdain for Ben.
“Good to see you, Chief.” Ben played it like he didn’t see it and skirted around the foreman and shook Pulaski’s hand. The policeman still wore the bracelet. “Starting to feel the benefits?”
Pulaski rolled his wrist and it cracked loudly. “Been a little busy to notice.” Chasing ghosts. It would’ve been great to gloat, but there was more important business.
Ben extended his hand to Kit Daily. “Ben Louis.”
Daily shook it like he was indulging a precocious toddler. “Kit Daily. You’ve come down to my train yard for a reason?”
The pitch glided off Ben’s tongue once again. The foreman left midway through, going back in the door he’d come out. Pulaski yawned broadly and hooked his hands on his duty belt.
Ben wrapped it up with, “We’d love to give the bands to the men in your yard. Those are the kinds of guys who deserve them.”
Daily snorted. “If it makes them work harder.”
Ben bristled at the man’s contempt for his employees and countered, “It might make the work easier.”
Daily didn’t like being talked back to. The challenge was met with eyes as hard as bullets. “Then I can give them more work.”
Neither backed down right away. Pulaski glanced from one to the other, shocked that Ben would stand up to Daily. There was an excited, expectant look in the policeman’s eye when he stared at the boss of the town, waiting to see what he was going to do.
“Go on.” The pompo
us Daily dismissed Ben with a wave toward the entrance to the yard. “You won’t do any harm.”
Kit Daily was dead wrong. Ben and Mary were there to do a lot of harm to him.
“Thanks much.” Ben started in that direction, then paused. “Would you like one for yourself?”
Daily snorted again. “I don’t think so.”
Ben kept it genial. “Once you see the chief’s brand new jumper, you might change your mind.” He didn’t wait for a response and moved along the porch to the entrance. As he turned toward the yard, he saw Daily and Pulaski still watching him and talking under their breaths. Would the cops send another round of truckers after him, or would the next try be more overt?
Only a few steps past the admin building put Ben into the hard world of heavy industry. Black gravel, steel train tracks and iron machinery. Smoke spewed from exhaust pipes, and train cars locked together with clanging metal. Everything there seemed like it could easily crush flesh and bone to dust.
The men had to be extra hard. Kit Daily could swagger with his throwback pistol on his hip and immaculate boots, but he didn’t work the yard. The men Ben approached wore grease and diesel dust on their heavy canvas clothes. Blacks, whites and Hispanics all eyed him warily.
Mary had already probed this area, dressed for civilian business, no less. The woman could walk through a tiger cage wearing a flank steak suit and still come out on top. How far afield was she now? If she was in trouble, he’d hear the explosions. Then the whole town would go up.
“You guys have a second?” Ben approached nine workers and once they’d locked down what they were doing and came over to him, laid out the same old pitch. He made sure to extend his appreciation for the labor these guys sweat out. As he handed out several bracelets, he ventured, “Coach down at the high school spoke highly of Sean Harris. He got some game?”
“A little.” An African-American man a bit younger than Ben stepped forward. His tight beard was broken by a short scar along his jaw.
Ben gave him a green bracelet. “Maybe you can go down to the police rec league and show them how it’s done.”
Sean scoffed, along with the other guys. “We’re all better off if they think they’re the ones with the skills.”
Ben glanced over his shoulder; no sign of Daily and Pulaski in the yard. “Yeah, seems like this place is on lockdown.”
“Except for the truckers.” Sean smiled wryly. News had traveled.
Ben shrugged. “I’ve got game.”
“That’s the word.” The other men in the group stared at Ben along with Sean, waiting for the story.
“They came on strong, talking shit.” Ben shifted to his right and put up his guard loosely to show the moves. “Got one in the side of the knee. Went at it with the second one for a bit. The third guy was a fucked-up tweaker, so he got wild and I had to put him on the ground.”
Sean wasn’t satisfied. “I heard they pulled a knife on you.”
“I’m from Chicago,” was answer enough.
“But you can’t stop a bullet.” Sean also kept an eye on the admin buildings. “I’d get your business done quick and get out of town.”
“Kit Daily shoot off that antique .45 of his a lot?” The cowboy would probably look like those old Department of Defense training films from the 1950s.
“Back behind the warehouses.” Sean swung his hand in that direction. “Him and his buddies shoot off all kinds of things.”
“That doesn’t sound safe.” What better way to intimidate people than the sound of gunfire?
“This isn’t a safe place,” Sean warned while revealing his own burden.
A new presence behind Ben shifted the men’s attention. A boss would’ve had them dispersing to resume their work. Instead they puffed up and flexed, rugged and manly. Ben turned. Mary stood on the path to the yard between the administrative buildings. A spike of worry was removed from the side of his neck and he sighed a little relief at seeing her.
“Is she the one?” Sean’s question struck Ben with more impact than was intended. “Is she the one you were with before those truckers jumped you?”
Ben nodded as a slow grin spread. “It was worth it.” And he’d endure a hell of a lot more for her.
She stalled on the path, looking up to the porch of one of the buildings and talking to someone hidden there. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, highlighting the piercing awareness of her dark eyes. A heavy coat hid the curves of her ribs and hips, but her tight jeans revealed strong thighs. High boots covered her calves in shining black leather. Ben couldn’t hold back a grunt of appreciation while the memories of her moving against him through the forest rolled a wave of heat up his back, around his chest and down to his groin.
Other sounds of approval came from the men around him.
Sean muttered, “Nice.”
“Right?” Ben agreed.
“She looks put together, man. Good luck.” With a nod, Sean turned back to his work. The others took another eyeful of Mary, then tore themselves away. No one said anything crass or made any gestures toward her. If they had, Ben wouldn’t have been quiet. Metal rang against metal like an industrial church behind Ben as he approached her.
She remained in the midst of a conversation. He stepped up the path and saw Daily and Pulaski on the porch looking down to her.
“Yeah, I got your card from Len.” Daily hooked his thumbs on each side of his large belt buckle. “And he explained your whole angle, but as much as I’d love doing business with you...” He showed teeth with a leering smile. “I don’t think my train yard fits what you’re looking for.”
Daily spotted Ben and called louder to him with a skeptical laugh. “Any takers?”
Ben stopped near Mary. “A few. You’ve got a good crew out there.”
Daily waggled a finger and instructed, “But I can’t tell them that. It’ll go to their heads.”
How long did Ben have to play nice? He struggled to maintain a neutral face and not scowl at the smug son of a bitch standing three feet above him.
Mary jumped in. “I’m glad I had a chance to meet you, Chief Pulaski. I was curious about crime rates in Morris Flats.”
Pulaski stepped forward, but not as far as Daily, who gave no ground. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to scare off investors.”
“A little excitement last night,” Daily reminded Pulaski with a hint of disappointment.
The chief waved it off. “Just some kids out for a joy ride.”
Ben couldn’t hold back. “I heard the sirens.”
Daily smiled knowingly and shared a glance with Pulaski. “Now what were you doing up at that hour?”
Both men shifted sticky looks between Ben and Mary. The hotel guard must’ve reported back. The town had eyes. None of them could be trusted.
Ben kept his voice flat. “I never sleep well when I’m not in my own bed.”
Kit Daily barked a laugh. Pulaski’s mouth turned down in an almost outright expression of disgust. Mary acted shy and shot Ben a quick accusatory look before taking out her phone and pretending to deal with pressing business.
Daily took too long examining Mary’s body, top to bottom and back. Ben seethed and almost stepped between them before Daily asked, “Were you in the service, Miss Long?”
Where was this going? Their cover had been seamless. And Automatik operated in such shady territory that even retired military men with good contacts couldn’t shine a light on them. Were they exposed? Pulaski wasn’t twitching to reach for his gun. Yet.
“No.” She cocked her head. “Why do you ask?”
“Your physique.” He awarded himself another opportunity to take her in. “Thought you might’ve gone through basic.”
“I was an athlete in college. Swimmer.”
Daily sucked his teeth. “That�
��s it. The shoulders.” But his gaze was on her legs.
Pulaski added, “We know Ben was an athlete.”
“Yeah.” Ben deliberately slung his bag higher on his shoulder to show he was moving out. If he stayed around Daily and Pulaski any longer, he’d jeopardize the mission by teaching them a lesson in mindfulness. With his fists. “I was on the darts team.”
No laughs from either man.
Daily didn’t even address him as he walked toward the parking lot. “I’ve got your card, Miss Long. But don’t count on a call.”
She answered with continued politeness. “I appreciate any consideration.”
Ben was still in earshot for the dismissal from Daily. “Now, we’ve got business to attend to. Have a safe trip out of Morris Flats.”
Everyone wanted them gone.
He walked slowly to his rental SUV.
Mary’s quick steps caught up to him. “Hey there.” A flirty twinkle glimmered in her eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you down here. Are you looking to poach my real estate deal?”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Miss Long.” He aped Daily’s drawl on her name. “I’m not cut out to run down contracts and handshakes with those guys.”
“I don’t blame you.” Her sharp edge revealed itself for a split second as she glanced at the admin building. Both men were back inside.
Ben opened the rear hatch to the SUV and placed his bag inside. Mary stood at his hip, her thigh on his. It was for show. They were being watched. He still savored the heat.
“I got a recommendation on a good place for dinner.” He kept his hand on the top of the open trunk lid so his arm blocked the admin building’s view of them.
“Isn’t that what got you beat up last time?”
“They got beat up.” He flexed his chest and biceps. “And this restaurant is in the next town and comes from a reputable source.”
“After last night...” She inspected the building and the police car parked out front. “We need to let them relax a little.”
“Too tight for the warehouse,” he murmured in agreement, bringing his face closer to hers. Her scent of roses surrounded him and transported him to a much cleaner and safer place.