Whatever was in his eyes died. As he looked at me, his smile tightened into something vicious. He stood up and moved close to me. Close enough that I could smell his breath.
'You want to take a swing at me, is that it, Joe?' he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 'Well, go right ahead, but I promise you I want to kick your teeth in a hell of a lot more than you could imagine. What happened today is your fault. Don't kid yourself otherwise. If you had taken care of things like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have had to send that puffed-up piece of crap Frechotte to that motel room.'
He was breathing heavily, his breath stale and oppressive, a bit like rotting garbage. I had to force myself to keep from stepping away from him. Then the moment passed. His eyes came back to life and his smile loosened into something more recognizable. He shook his head as if to indicate that I was nuts, and then sat back in the chair and crossed his legs.
'You were right about Grayson,' he said. I cornered him this morning and got him to tell me that he's meeting with Coakley and Manny Wednesday to iron out a deal. And you're right, the deal's going to protect Junior. So Joe, I'm expecting you to take care of this today. How are you going to do it?'
'I'm not telling you shit.'
'No, that's not a good answer. Three of my boys are waiting outside. Unless I hear something more convincing, I'm going to bring them in here and we're going to take care of things here and now. So Joe, how are you going to take care of this?'
As I looked at him I knew he; meant what he said. He casually took his revolver out of its holster and rested it on his knee. I knew I was a breath away from being a dead man.
My throat had dried up on me. I had to clear it before I could talk.
'I'll take care of this,' I said, my voice cracking. 'What did you say? I couldn't hear you. Your voice kind of faded on you.'
I went into the bathroom and poured myself a cup of water. I couldn't have gotten a word out without it. I drank it slowly and walked back to him. I stopped when he moved his hand to get a better grip on the gun.
I told him again that I'd take care of things.
"That's not good enough, Joe. You've been letting me down for three days now. I want to hear details. I want to be convinced.'
'I can't tell you,' I said. 'Someone else is involved. But it's all worked out. Manny will be gone by morning.'
'Joe, come on, you should know there are no secrets between us. I want to know every little detail.'
I could feel the sweat building on the back of my neck. I shook my head.
He pursed his lips as he studied me. I could tell he was trying to make up his mind, and I could see it in his eyes when he settled on a decision. He put his gun back in its holster and smiled as pleasantly as I ever saw him.
'Okay, Joe, you have until tonight. But I hope you understand, I'm not playing anymore. You understand that, right?'
I nodded.
'So tell me, this other person, you didn't by any chance mention my name to him?'
'No. No one else has been mentioned.'
"That's good, Joe. You're using some brains for a change. Keep it up. Maybe we'll all be able to look back at this someday and get a good laugh out of it.'
He stood up, gave me a wink, and headed towards the door. I tried to keep my mouth shut, but I couldn't help myself.
'It doesn't bother you what happened to that girl?' I asked.
He turned to me and shrugged. 'Of course it does,' he said. 'If it were up to me, Frechotte would have unloaded a full clip into Coakley's face and left her out of it. If he had done that, this would be over now and we'd have the added benefit of a closed casket.'
His smile turned wistful as he thought about it. He shook his head sadly. 'But it wasn't up to me, Joe,' he continued, 'just as it wasn't up to me that you've been fucking around with this the last three days. But I will miss her. She was a sweet girl, and you don't get a chance to see a nice little red bush like hers every day.'
He left then.
The back of my shirt had soaked through with sweat. I got out of my clothes, took a quick shower, and dried off the best I could with the dishrag that had been left in the bathroom to masquerade as a bath towel. Afterwards, I got dressed and sat on the bed and looked at the pictures I had of Melissa and Courtney. When I felt strong enough, I threw whatever I had into my duffel bag and checked out of the motel. As I drove to Bradley Memorial Hospital, I spotted one of Dan's deputies, Hal Wheely, following me in an unmarked Chevy.
I made no attempt to lose him. He did a pretty clumsy job of tailing me, and he must've known that I spotted him. But I guess he didn't care.
Chapter 15
It was twenty to seven by the time I pulled into the hospital parking lot. When I got to the lobby, I noticed Alice Cook behind the information desk. She avoided my eye as I walked past her.
I thought I'd catch Charlotte before her shift ended. I didn't feel that I could wait until eight to see her. As I headed towards the terminal ward, I spotted Junior and his two goons, Jamie and Duane, at the other end of the hallway walking towards me. When he saw me, a big ugly grin broke across his face.
'Hey, Joe,' he yelled out. 'Whatcha doin' here? You're not planning on bothering my pop again, are you?'
I stopped where I was. Junior and his two goons kept coming, maybe even speeding up their pace. When Junior reached me, he moved alongside me and put his arm around my shoulder.
'Get your hands off me,' I told him as I braced myself.
'Hey, I'm just talking friendly-like to an old friend, that's all,' Junior said. His two goons had positioned themselves so I was sandwiched between all three of them.
'I told you to get your hands off me,' I said.
'Lighten up. We're all friends here, okay? Now I asked you, are you here to bother my pop again?'
'Junior, I'm going to tell you for the last time to get your hands off me.'
I had taken my car keys out of my pocket. I could feel my muscles tensing. Even with his two goons standing next to me, I'd be able to get a couple of shots in. I'd make sure that Junior was bleeding from somewhere before they pulled me off him. I guess Junior realized that also. His ugly grin dulled a bit and he removed his hand from my shoulder. He backed up half a step. His two goons stood where they were.
'Hey, don't go psycho on me, okay?' Junior said. 'I'm just talking to you as an old pal, that's all. Want to know something, Joe? I hung out with Pop later than usual today hoping you'd show up.'
'I'm glad I didn't disappoint you.'
'You think you're so goddam smart, but guess what? You're not as bright as you think you are. I knew sooner or later you'd try bothering Pop again with your bullshit.'
'Is that so?'
'Yeah, that's so. And I want to tell you I figured out how you're going to pay for bothering Pop the other day’ I thought you told me last night.'
He looked away from me to his two goons. 'What's he talking about?' he asked them. 'Anyone say shit to him last night?'
Both Jamie and Duane shook their heads. Junior looked back at me. 'I don't know what the fuck you're talking about,' he said.
'You took a couple of shots at me last night.'
'I did, did I?' he asked. He turned to his two goons and asked them, 'Either of you know anything about this?' Neither of them said anything.
He turned back to me, his grin now tight against his face. 'You're nuts, Joe. If I took a shot at you, you wouldn't be standing here now.'
'Somebody took two shots at me.'
A young doctor, probably around thirty, was approaching from behind. He made sure to give us a wide berth as he passed by. Junior waited until he was out of earshot before he leaned closer to me.
'Look somewhere else, pal,' he said, making an effort to keep his voice low. 'I'm sure if you look hard enough you'll find plenty of other guys who'd like to plug you. But not me. Not while you owe me money. And that's what I want to talk to you about. What you owe me is being bumped to forty large.'
I co
uldn't help laughing.
'Laugh all you want, bright guy. The extra ten grand is the price you're paying for bothering my pop. And now I want a minimum eight grand each week.'
'Yeah, well, I want peace on earth and goodwill to all mankind. We don't all get what we want, Junior.'
'I'll get it, don't worry. I'll either get the forty grand in money or in enjoyment. One way or the other I'll get it.'
'Don't hold your breath.'
His face flushed and his eyes half-closed as he glared at me. 'You think you're so fucking smart, don't you? Let me tell you something, Joe, the difference between you and me is I don't say a word without having everything set up first. You, you go shooting off your mouth without knowing what the fuck you're saying. I got something for you to look at.'
He reached into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket and pulled out a folded document and handed it to me. It was an affidavit from Earl Kelley. In it Earl claimed the night Billy Ferguson was murdered he played poker with Junior. He also claimed he tried inviting me into the game, but that I told him 1 had business to take care of. There was more stuff in it but that was the gist of it.
'You can keep it,' Junior said. 'It's a copy. I got the original.'
'Thanks.'
'Pretty stupid of you shooting off your mouth to my pop,' he said. 'Whatcha thinking? That he's not going to tell me everything you said?'
'Yeah, it was stupid,' I agreed.
'So you're not so brilliant, are you?' he said. 'And Duane and Jamie will be seeing you Wednesday to collect my first eight grand. You want to know something? I'm hoping you don't have the money. Be seeing you soon, Joe.'
He started to walk away, but stopped to tell Jamie to stick with me.
'Make sure he don't go near Pop,' he said.
I watched as he and Duane walked down the hallway. Jamie stood next to me, smirking. When Junior was out of sight, I told Jamie to beat it. He seemed to find something amusing in that and got a good chuckle out of it.
I started in the direction of Manny's room.
'Hey, asshole, where do you think you're going?'
Jamie's smirk grew wider as he put a hand out to stop me. I turned and kicked him hard below the knee with what you'd call in martial arts a front snap-kick. He let out a howl and hopped on one leg, grabbing at his injured knee. Before he could do much else, I took hold of his head and slammed it as hard as I could against the wall. It made a loud clanging noise. He groaned at that. I let go and he slid down the wall. He wasn't out, not entirely, but he wasn't in either. I saw that his head had taken a large chunk out of the wall. If his skull hadn't been as hard as concrete, I probably would've killed him. I looked behind me to make sure no one saw anything and then kept walking.
Taking him out was easier than I would've expected. I guess he didn't expect me to do anything. I guess over the years he had gotten used to people just pissing in their pants at the sight of him. This time, though, it looked like I left him pissing in his own pants.
It was a few minutes past seven. I got to Manny's room and found him alone. He was sleeping with his mouth wide open, and as he breathed, he made thin grunting noises. What was lying there was only the skin and bones of what used to be Manny. It was as if all his flesh had been sucked out of him. Yet there was enough of him left to screw me over. All I could think of was why he couldn't just die already.
I was watching him from the doorway when a nurse I hadn't seen before squeezed past me.
'Visiting hours are over,' she said, shooting me back an annoyed look.
"That's okay. I was really trying to find Charlotte.'
'Charlotte Boyd?'
'Yes.'
'Her shift's over. I think she headed home.'
I thanked her. I took a few steps away from the door and watched for a moment as she took Manny's pulse, and then got out of there. Jamie was still sitting on the floor when I walked by, but he had company; a nurse and a doctor were checking him out. He looked up, but I don't think he recognized me. I don't think he knew what planet he was on. I kept going. A security guard ran past me while I walked out of the hallway.
No one bothered to stop me as I made my way through the hospital and out to my car. As I drove to Charlotte's apartment, I thought about Junior. I couldn't make up my mind whether he was putting on an act or not. He seemed convincing about not knowing I'd been shot at. I had to think if he had shot at me he would have found a way to rub my nose in it. But if he didn't take those shots at me, somebody else did. I couldn't imagine Dan doing it. If he had decided to go to his Plan B, he'd find an easier and less public way to take me out. And I couldn't imagine Phil doing it either. No matter how strongly he might hate me, I couldn't imagine him doing something like that. And it made no sense, especially if he expected to crack Manny and have me locked away for life. His daughter, Clara, though…
Yeah, she was another story. There was so much rage still in her. When I saw her in church, she was chalk white and trembling with it. I could see her trying something like that, or maybe talking a friend into it. I could see her playing up the attempted rape and showing off her bruises, and getting some dumb football type worked up enough to try blowing my head off. It could've been something like that…
Or it could've been a friend or family member of one of the boys I'd put in the hospital. Other names popped into my head, names of people who I knew would have no problem taking a shot at me.
Over the years I've learned to trust my first gut feeling, and usually nine times out of ten it's been right. But the more I thought about it, the more the shooting smelled like something an amateur would try. Someone would've had to park and wait by the curb until I was visible through a window. It was still possible Junior did it, but I was beginning to have my doubts.
As far as the affidavit went, I had been expecting something like that ever since I shot my mouth off. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I said anything to Manny about Ferguson's murder. I knew it, but I couldn't help myself. Maybe I was a little hurt that Earl went along with it, but I could understand it. Junior probably offered to lower his weekly take. P couldn't blame Earl. The only person I had to blame was myself. I never should have said a word to Manny about trying to wrap Junior up with Ferguson's murder. I knew it at the time, but I let him get under my skin. My price for that was the affidavit.
I checked several times along the way and saw that Hal Wheely was still following me. I figured it didn't matter. He'd know the apartment complex, but he'd still have no idea who I was seeing there. And I had no plans on being seen with Charlotte anywhere in public.
When I arrived at the Maple Farms apartment complex, I waited until Wheely parked, and then drove behind his car so I would have to walk past him. When I did, I gave him a wave. That pissed him off. He rolled down his window, spat, and then looked away, pretending not to notice me.
I had to ring Charlotte's buzzer several times before she answered. She buzzed me in, and later when she opened her door, looked surprised.
'Joe, you're forty-five minutes early.'
'I've been anxious to see you,' I said, which was mostly true. I couldn't wait any longer.'
'Well – why don't you come in?'
I followed her into her apartment. After sitting down, I asked whether she had any more samples of the allergy medication she'd given me the other day.
'You won't need it,' she said, showing a secretive little smile. I put my cats in a kennel for the night. Joe, I was planning to surprise you and make you dinner. Would that be alright? If you want to go out instead, we could still do that.'
'No, dinner here would be nice. Do you want me to help?'
'Why don't you sit down and relax. You can watch TV if you like, or listen to music. Can I get you a drink? I bought a bottle of Scotch today.'
'Scotch on the rocks would be great.'
She gave me a puzzled look so I explained, 'Scotch with some ice.'
She made me the drink and brought it back to me, and then went in
to the kitchen to prepare dinner. I brought the drink over to her CD collection and looked at what music she had. It was mostly classical and operas. She did have one of old Frank Sinatra songs, 1940s-era stuff. I settled on that, and after putting it in the CD player, I went back to the loveseat.
I leaned back, stretching out my shoulder muscles, and then took a sip of my drink. The kitchen was open to the living room, and I could see Charlotte pounding chicken breasts with a mallet. She smiled at me when she noticed me looking at her. It was a nice smile. I smiled back.
'What are you making?' I asked.
Looking very pleased with herself, she told me, 'Chicken Cordon Bleu.'
I felt relaxed sitting there. On the surface it was nice, and I guess it was the way some people actually lived; just sitting back and listening to Sinatra as you sipped Scotch and had a pretty woman make you dinner.
Of course, the woman in this case had deep issues and probably bordered on psychotic. But as I sat there, it didn't matter to me. And I had to admit that Charlotte, at least for the moment, was pretty. I'm not saying she was beautiful by any stretch – she wasn't anywhere near in the same league as someone like Toni – but in her own way, she was pretty. Her nervousness was gone and she had fixed herself up and had put on some makeup. Her hair was set so it fell past her shoulders, and she was dressed nicely, wearing black Capri pants and a pink short-sleeve sweater. And again, she had better curves than I would've thought after seeing her in her nurse's uniform. The pants she was wearing made her hips look slender enough that I started daydreaming about what it would be like to take them off her. Maybe her coloring was a bit too pale, and maybe when I looked at her from a certain angle I could see blue veins crisscrossing her temples, but it was okay. It didn't matter. It didn't change the way I was feeling. For a few minutes I almost forgot what I was there for. I almost forgot about her murdering those people.
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