by Kitchin, Rob
Juan has a confused look on his face; it’s clear he’s only interested in the million dollars not Sally and the cap.
‘That’s not going to be so easy,’ I say, without moving. ‘Redneck and Cowboy have her.’
‘Who the fuck are Redneck and Cowboy?’
‘Earl Jenkins and his sidekick. I don’t know his name.’
‘Brett,’ Juan says calmly, eyeing me like a snake does its prey. I’m clearly messing up his plans.
‘FUCK! For fuck’s sake!’ Kate explodes. ‘Are you trying to ruin my life?’
The gun makes a hell of a bang, the bullet ricocheting off a bridge strut.
Instinctively I duck. Jesus. It’s official. She’s now totally flipped. And if anyone’s ruined her life it’s herself. She specializes in ruining lives. Five people are being held captive because of her. It’s possible that we might not have any lives once this is all over, and if we do, they’ll be spent in prison.
‘They want their million dollars back in exchange for her,’ I say, straightening back up again.
Kate laughs. ‘Priceless,’ she mutters. Her anger seems to have deflated. ‘I wouldn’t give them the time of day for her. Get in.’ She motions at the car again.
Shit. I guess it was too much to expect Kate to want to get her damn cap back when Redneck and Cowboy are involved. I open the passenger door and slide in.
Kate slips into the seat behind me, the warm barrel of the gun pressed to my nape.
‘Where the hell are they?’ she asks.
Maybe it’s not.
‘I’ve no idea. I just know that they’re holding Sally. And she has your cap.’
Juan climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the ignition key. The car sparks into life, the air conditioning immediately starting to blast out cool air. He puts his foot down and we set off down the deserted road.
‘Juan?’
‘Yeah, baby?’
‘Do you have Earl’s cell number?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He nods his head slowly.
‘We need to give him a ring and arrange a little get-together. He has a hostage who’s got my favorite cap.’
I really wish that Kate would remove the gun from my neck. The road is uneven and God knows what a sudden jolt will do to her index finger.
‘Your favorite cap?’ Juan says, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Juan thinks she’s as cuckoo as I do. It wouldn’t surprise me if he throttled her and left her for dead two minutes after they’d got their hands on the million dollars. He’s got that dead pool, killer look in his eyes, like he’s gazing right through you. If he doesn’t act first, I wouldn’t fancy his chances of lasting much beyond three minutes. She’s a few quarters short of a ten dollar roll and a certified lying, cheating, double-crossing bitch.
‘Yeah, my Crusaders cap,’ she says using a fake, kooky Marilyn Monroe accent. ‘My lucky cap. I gotta get my lucky cap back.’
* * *
The drive back to Carrick Springs was uneventful. After a while Kate lowered the gun from my neck, which dropped me several points down the sphincter scale. The wound on the side of my head finally clotted, but there’s not much yellow left on the tie.
As we reach the town limits, Kate jabs the gun into the back of the seat.
‘One wrong move and I’ll shoot first and ask questions later,’ she says.
‘Don’t you need me to get the million dollars?’ I ask.
She laughs. ‘Not anymore. It turns out that was something of a wasted trade.’
Juan’s eyes flick up to the mirror, staring back at Kate.
‘Except you now know where your cap is,’ I point out.
‘True, but it makes you surplus to requirements.’
So I was right. This is all about the cap.
I glance over at Juan. He’s lowered his gaze back to the road, his forehead creased in a frown, his lips pursed. I suspect he’s come to the same conclusion as I have and he doesn’t like it one bit. It means having to confront Redneck and Cowboy.
‘So what are you going to do with me?’
I could tell her that Sally doesn’t have the cap, that in fact I’m the only one who knows where it is, but I think I’m going to save that as a last resort if it looks like I’m going to meet my maker.
‘Who knows? I haven’t decided yet.’
Juan clears his throat and glances up into the mirror.
‘We … I mean we haven’t decided yet,’ she corrects.
If she didn’t get herself into a collective frame of reference soon then she could well be looking for a new partner.
‘The last seven months meant nothing to you?’ I ask.
‘I showed you a good time, didn’t I?’
‘You used me.’
‘Everybody uses each other. That’s what people do.’
I hope Juan is listening to this, but I suspect he thinks he’s using her as much as she’s using him. The million dollars was just too much of a temptation to stay loyal to Redneck.
‘It’s meant to be well meaning and reciprocal,’ I say. ‘You were just using me to hide.’
‘Don’t be such a … a cry baby. It’s not like you had a life anyway.’
‘What are you on about? I had a life. I mean have a life. I …’
‘You won’t have a life if you don’t shut the fuck up,’ Juan interrupts, his voice full of menace. ‘It’s like listening to an old married couple. You used me. You’re a cry baby. Blah, blah, blah. Who gives a fuck?’
Well, I guess Juan doesn’t give a fuck and he’s seriously pissed off. He probably thought he’d be well on the way to the Canadian border at this stage.
We drive in silence for a while through low density houses on large plots.
‘How did Redneck, I mean Earl Jenkins, get away?’ I ask, unnerved by the quiet. Kate, I sense, might let me go – tie me up and leave me for someone to hopefully find. Juan is a whole different ball game. I reckon he might be happier to put a bullet in my head. He seems the type that doesn’t like loose ends, especially those with a tongue in their head who could appear on a witness stand. He’s radiating negative energy.
‘What do you mean, get away?’
‘When you kidnapped Annabelle, she was guarding him.’
‘We left him in the house. He was unconscious and tied up. No point trying to move a dead weight.’
I nod my head. At least they didn’t kill him, otherwise we’d have had a third body on our hands.
So how the hell did Redneck get free then? At some point between Sally fleeing, Kate snatching Annabelle and searching the house, and Sally returning, Redneck disappeared. Cowboy was in no fit state to get there before us. Perhaps Redneck came round and worked his way out of his bonds by himself? He wasn’t exactly tied up by professionals.
‘What did you do with the bed and Tony?’ Kate asks.
‘We burnt the bed and wrapped Marino in a couple of sheets. He’s with Junior.’
‘Junior?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Give me the highlights.’ She puts the gun back against the base of my neck.
My sphincter tightens quicker than a flytrap.
‘Ronald Carter Junior. Barry Wh … I mean Leroy Taylor shot him in my hallway.’
‘Leroy shot Ronnie?’ Kate says in disbelief.
‘With a silenced gun. Ronnie was moaning about having to search the house.’
‘Fuck!’ Kate spits. ‘That’s fucked up. Ronnie’s married to his sister. Fucking Leroy.’
‘I’ve met her. Denise.’
‘Denise is here?’
‘She’s looking for Junior.’
The gun lowers from my neck. Kate is silent, lost in her own thoughts. I stare out the window at the forlorn looking Green Gables Shopping Mall, its large car park mostly empty.
‘Who the hell is Leroy Taylor?’ I ask.
‘He’s the motherfucker that took Earl’s money,’ Juan answers, putting the indicator on and turning in the forecourt of a Holid
ay Inn.
* * *
They’ve pushed me into the windowless bathroom in their hotel room. There’s no way out except through the door. The vent in the roof would just about accommodate one arm. Juan has made it clear that if I open the door he’ll shoot first and ask questions later. If try to shout for help he’ll break my neck with his bare hands. He strikes me as the kind of man that would enjoy doing it. I haven’t bothered to lock the door; there seems little point.
For the past five minutes they’ve been having one hell of a row. It’s been difficult to catch most of it because they’re at the far end of the room and they’ve got the television on loud to mask their words.
The basic gist is that Juan is seriously pissed off with Kate. He feels she duped him into letting her free when she didn’t actually have the money. And now they were going to have to find a way to get the cap and/or Sally from Redneck and Cowboy, who are the last people Juan wants to see right now. In response, Kate seems to be swapping from placating him to berating him. I know that tactic all too well. She’s the arch-manipulator.
Whilst they work their differences out, I’ve taken the opportunity to fill the sink with warm water and slip out of the bloodied shirt. I doubt Sally’s husband will want either the shirt or his tie back. My face is a mess – bright red from sun and stained a mottled brown on one side. I dampen a towel and mop at it carefully.
The cut is above my ear amongst my red hair. It’s difficult to see it clearly, and I’m no expert, but I think it’s going to need a couple of stitches. It’s damn sore, that’s for certain. I lean down to the water and gently scoop it up to my face, letting it trickle down my neck.
I turn the towel round and dampen another section then wipe my torso and arms. Even I can smell my own stale sweat. The bruising on my side looks worse than ever, a mix of blues and purples and there are ugly marks where The Rock punched me.
I let the water drain from the sink, then take one of the small glasses and fill it with cold water. I down it in one, refilling it and draining it again. I drink two more cupfuls trying to quench my thirst.
All being well Annabelle should now be free and having her injuries treated. At least one of us might get out of this calamity alive, albeit losing fifty percent of everything she’s worked for.
I drop the seat on the toilet and sit on it. I wonder how Sally, Paavo and Jason are getting on? Assuming I ever see them again, I’ve no idea how I’m going to apologize. My famous barbecued ribs, a crate of beer and a bucket of Annabelle’s ice cream are unlikely to do the job.
The door outside slams loudly. A few moments later there’s a knock on the door.
‘Tadhg?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Juan is calling Earl. I still have the gun. If you open this door, I’ll shoot.’
I shake my head. And to think I took her in and gave her shelter and sustenance.
‘Did you hear me, Tadhg?’
‘Yeah, I heard you.’
‘You should have gone to the police when you found Tony,’ Kate says.
‘Yeah,’ is all I can think to answer. I should have gone to the cops and taken my chances with Pirelli.
‘I would still have my million dollars if you had, you fucking bastard.’ She kicks the door.
The woman should be certified.
* * *
I’ve slipped the bloodied shirt back on and I’m sitting tied to a chair with telephone flex. The yellow, now mostly dark red, tie has been wrapped around my head, keeping a face cloth stuffed in my mouth. Thankfully, Kate has turned the television off. She’s now in the bathroom, loudly humming Poker Face by Lady Gaga. She only knows a couple of the lyrics, and some of those sound wrong, and is giving it her own tuneless treatment whilst also altering the timing. Juan has gone to check out the planned meeting point for their rendezvous with Redneck and Cowboy.
I’ve spent the last few minutes trying to loosen my bonds. I remember reading somewhere that you should keep your wrists crossed as perpendicular as possible when someone is securing them, then if you straighten them there should be some give. I’d say I’ve gained about a millimeter. Certainly not enough to work a hand through. Maybe it was the other way round – keep them as straight as possible. Who knows? I’m still stuck in this damn chair.
The bathroom door opens and Kate exits holding the gun in her right hand. She’s still wearing her sunglasses but she’s let her blonde hair down. She’s also undone all the buttons of her denim shirt revealing the silky camisole underneath. She’s wearing nothing on her lower half other than her white with red hearts hipster panties. Kate might be quite flat-chested, but she has fantastic long, dancer legs.
She glides towards me singing: ‘Na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na-na-na. Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh, I’ll get him hot and flash what I’ve got.’
As she nears I can’t help noticing the bruising on her legs and the dark yellow stain in the crotch of her panties. A reminder perhaps that not so long ago she was herself trussed up and being interrogated by Redneck, Cowboy and Juan.
She slides onto my lap, wrapping her legs around me.
‘Na, na-na. Na, na-na. Na-na-na-na, my poker face. Da, da, da-da. Da, da, da-da.’
She hum-sings some more of the song, grinding her backside into my thighs, staring at my face.
Twenty four hours earlier Captain Prick would have been fully at attention, straining to burst through underpants and trousers. Right now he’s immune to any feminine charms, in the main because Kate is holding the barrel of the gun to my temple. Nothing counteracts the charms of a beautiful but crazy woman like the threat of one’s brains being blown across a hotel room.
We sit like that for a while – Kate alternating between humming and singing, grinding into my thighs, the gun bumping into the side of my head.
Eventually she stops and puts the gun on the desk next to us. She wrestles roughly with the tie, dragging it down so that it loops round my neck, and fishes the washcloth from my mouth. She then pushes her sunglasses up into her hair and loops her arms around my neck.
The bruising round her eyes is extensive and ugly, the eyes themselves woven with red silk. She pulls a lazy smile and I notice that one of her teeth is chipped.
‘What’s wrong, baby?’ she coos, dragging a fingernail along my cheek.
What’s wrong? I shake my head. ‘Where do you want me to start?’
‘Oh, poor baby. You’ve not been having a very good day?’
‘I’ve had better.’
The slap thwacks against my cheek taking me by surprise.
FUCK!
‘You’ve had better?’
She grabs me by the ears and starts shaking my head.
FUUUCCCCKKKKKKKK. Painful would be an understatement.
‘You’ve had better!’ she screams.
She lets go, then places her head high on my chest, looping her arms around my back as if consoling a bereaved relative.
I can feel a trickle of blood snake down my face where she’s re-opened the wound. My ears feel as if they’re on fire. Kate has clearly fallen over the cliff edge from sanity into a chasm of madness. The possibility that she’ll wig-out completely and put a bullet in my head feels very real.
‘Why did you kill Tony, Tadhg?’ she asks without moving.
‘I … I didn’t kill him,’ I say hesitantly. ‘He was already dead when I got into bed.’
She doesn’t say anything for a while, mulling over my answer.
‘He was my knight in shining armor.’
‘You were in love with Tony Marino?’ I say, unable to hide my incredulity.
‘He was going to sort out the problem with Earl and Leroy, but he didn’t turn up to the truck stop.’
‘He was going to … to make them go away?’ I hazard.
‘Forever,’ she mutters. ‘They’re not going to stop chasing me until they get the money.’
It sounds like Kate had been trying to lure her pursuers to the truck stop, where Marino would dispos
e of them. Only Marino had been unavoidably delayed. Instead, Redneck, Cowboy and Juan had traded shots with Barry White and Junior, before both sets of adversaries disengaged and set-off after Kate.
‘But whose money is it?’ I ask.
‘Mine. It’s my money, Tadhg.’
‘I mean, before it became yours?’
‘Earl’s. Earl’s drug money. It was dirty money and now it’s mine.’
‘And Leroy Taylor stole it from Earl?’ I ask.
‘Leroy helped me get it from Earl.’
‘But you never gave Leroy his share?’ I hazard.
Kate doesn’t answer, gently rocking to and fro.
This whole thing is starting to make some sense. Kate and Leroy had somehow managed to liberate a million dollars from Redneck. Kate had then taken both his and her share and disappeared, coming back to Carrick Springs, hiding by shacking up with a gullible patsy. Marino had spotted her in the pharmacy and she’d seduced him, persuading the mobster to help her deal with Redneck and Barry White if they managed to pick up her trail. Clearly, one or both of them did so and Kate had decided to try and deal with the problem in one go. Perhaps she hoped that one of her two pursuers would kill the other, then Marino would finish the remainder off. However it was planned, Marino didn’t make it, leaving her to her own devices.
I test my hypothesis: ‘How did you know that Earl had found you?’
Kate starts to hum the song again.
‘Kate?’ I prompt.
‘He contacted Mr Pirelli. He couldn’t just turn up uninvited on someone else’s patch. Then Tony told me. We hatched a plan. Tony arranged with Earl that he’d bring me to the truck stop. I contacted Leroy through a friend. I offered to meet him so I could give him half of the money.’
‘At the truck stop,’ I add.
‘Hmmmmm.’
Maybe I’m not such a mediocre journalist after all – I’m bang on the money. Metaphorically speaking. Hopefully, that’s all it will be – metaphorical.
‘But how did Earl find you in the first place?’ I ask.
She shrugs.
I guess it doesn’t matter. Maybe he put out feelers and Pirelli told him that Marino had recently bumped into her. There are still a couple of outstanding questions, such as how Kate and Leroy managed to steal the money in the first place, and some elements of last night which don’t quite add up. Since it makes little sense to me, I decide to focus on the latter.