Deception

by Dan Lawton

  “What you doin’ home already?” he says as he tries to pretend like he wasn’t sleeping.

  “I’ll be home for the next few weeks, so get used to it. And get your feet off the table.”

  He does. “Did you get fired?”

  “No.”

  “What happened then?”

  I just stare at him, not wanting to get into it. “Vacation.”

  He nods, conceding the conversation. Frank moved in with me immediately after our father died. Our father was his caretaker, and he did an admirable job of it. Our mother died of cancer when we were young, so it was just the three of us up until a few months ago. Now all we have is each other.

  “Did you take your meds?” I say to Frank.

  He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment, his tongue protruding through his teeth. “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He thinks some more. “Yeah, I remember now, I did.”

  I nod and walk down the hallway to my bedroom. I place the box of personal items from my desk on the floor and start to remove my uniform. I place everything neatly on the bed before putting them on hangers. Frank walks in as I’m changing my underwear.

  “Hey, Billy, I forgot to tell you something,” he says.

  I cover myself instinctually, then I drop my arms to the side to prove a point as I face Frank. He covers his eyes with his hands.

  “Can I get dressed first?” Frank nods and walks backwards until he’s out of the room. I finish getting dressed and find him back in the living room. “What is it?”

  “This came for you yesterday.” He timidly hands me a sealed envelope addressed from the city.

  I stare at him in disgust, as this isn’t the first time he has forgotten to give me something that was dropped off at the house while I was out. I rip the envelope from his hand, tear it open, and read the notice: It’s the final notification that my property tax bill is due today. I have the three other notices hanging on the fridge, but I keep forgetting to pay it. Maybe I should have listened to my broker when he suggested that I set up an escrow so it gets paid automatically with my mortgage. I guess I’ll have to go pay it in person so it’s paid on time.

  I look to Frank. “Do you want to go for a ride?”

  ---

  It takes me about twenty-three minutes to drive back into the center of town. I take my personal van, which is just an old painters van that I bought for a couple thousand bucks earlier this year. I had bought it with the intention of having something inconspicuous that I could use to track Snake without him knowing it was me. He hasn’t seen me yet, as far as I know, so it seems the investment is paying off. The van has two front seats and a wide open back with a leather bench on either side. I’ve been tossing a bunch of trash back there for reasons I’m not quite sure of. It’s unlike me to do that, but something about the condition of it makes me feel like it’s better to be a mess.

  City Hall is just a block from the police station. I park the van on the street and put a few dimes in the meter. Frank and I walk side-by-side up the stairwell and enter the brick building through the double doors in the front. The place is jammed as usual, so we stand in line in front of the glass that separates the public from the clerks.

  There is a new girl behind the desk. I say girl, but she’s really a woman. She’s all woman. Her skin is tanned and her dark hair is held up in a bun. She’s not black, but she definitely doesn’t look like the people that live around here; she’s far more beautiful than any of the locals. There is something exotic about her, and it attracts me to her instantly.

  As I study her, my eyes find her chest that is bursting out of her blouse, and I can’t help but stare and fantasize. She seems to notice, because she looks down and buttons the top button just moments later. She flicks her eyes up at me and offers a weak smile. I smile back and lower my eyes, embarrassed that I’ve been caught. The line eventually thins out and Frank and I approach the window.

  “Good afternoon. What can I do for you today?” says the beauty from behind the glass. She smiles after, showing me her pearly whites. I slide the envelope from the city under the glass without saying anything. She opens it and reads. “William Lewis…that name sounds familiar.”

  “I’m a police officer here in town,” I say.

  She pauses. “That’s what it is. You must be Junior. William Lewis Junior, right? I heard what happened to your dad. I’m so very sorry for that.”

  “Yeah, thanks. We’re getting through it.”

  She looks down at the envelope again, then back up at me. “Payment method?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How did you want to pay for this?”

  “Oh, right. Personal check.” I remove the checkbook from my back pocket and finish filling out the check using one of the pens with the flower on it from the cup on the clerk’s desk. I slide the check under the glass. “You must be new around here.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Thought so.”

  “How’d you know? Is it that obvious?” She almost blushes.

  “I’ve just never seen you around before, that’s all. I know just about everyone who works for the city, or I know of them at least. You know, me being a cop and all.”

  She nods in understanding. “Right.” She enters some information into her computer, marking me as paid I would imagine, then she slides the envelope back to me under the glass. “Do you want a receipt?”

  I shake my head.

  “Well it was nice to meet you, William. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

  “Billy, you can call me Billy.”

  “Okay, Billy. Nice to meet you.” She offers me the same weak smile as before.

  “You too.” I turn to leave, but stop myself before fully turning around. “I didn’t get your name.”

  “Oh, sorry.” She points to the wooden plaque that has her name inscribed on it that sits on the edge of her desk. “I’m Alicia Diaz.”

  “Nice to meet you, Alicia.” I turn to leave again, but I can’t get myself to walk away just yet. The middle-aged woman with her two young children behind me in the line mumbles something under her breath as I turn back to Alicia again. “You know, since you’re new around here, maybe you’d like someone to show you around. I do know the area pretty well, you know, me being a police officer and all. So I was thinking maybe I could show you around sometime.”

  She ponders the offer.

  “It never hurts to make friends with the police, especially in a new place,” I continue, trying to seal the deal.

  She laughs softly to herself, amused. She studies Frank and I, who I almost forgot was even here, and she considers the offer further.

  “Sure, why not? That sounds nice,” she says.

  I smile at her. “Yeah? Okay, great. That’s great.”

  “I’ve got nothing to do tonight. I get out at five. Are you free?”

  “Tonight? Tonight is good.”

  “Good. I hear the pub a couple blocks from here is pretty good. Want to meet me there?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  She smiles at me through the glass again, so I return the pleasantry. My heart flutters.

  Maybe Jack was right; maybe three weeks off is just what I need.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GEORGE

  I’m covered in sweat and I have a dreadful headache. I try to lift my hands to rub my temples, but they’re restrained. I try to pull my legs forward, but they’re stuck too. I can’t see anything but blackness. I start to panic. I try to jump in place, but the strain is too much on my torso.

  “Help!” my scream echoes. “Somebody please help me!” My pleads go unanswered, and I begin to cry. In the distance, I can hear faint footsteps approaching. As they get closer, my heart begins to pound. The footsteps are heavy and sound like they’re coming from a pair of boots. The steps are right on top of me now, but then all of a sudden, they stop.

  Complete silence.

  I wait and listen with anx
iety. “Hello?” I try.

  No answer.

  “Somebody help me!”

  A loud pop of the electrical system fills the room. Instantly, bright fluorescent lights illuminate overhead, and I instinctually close my eyes until I can adjust to the glow. In only a few moments, I’m able to open my eyes and focus on my surroundings. I immediately look down. My wrists are tied to the arms of a wooden chair, my ankles to the legs. The chair is bolted to the floor.

  I’m in a large industrial room, empty it appears, except for me. It might be a warehouse. The walls are made of gray cement, the floors the same. There is a drop ceiling high above my head with cracked pipes and broken wires hanging lower than they should. There are numerous spots of water damage all around. Cobwebs fill the crevices. At first, I hardly even notice the two-way mirror that’s on the wall directly in front of me. Behind me, I hear a door open, then close again. The thud of heavy boots approach me. Two hands rest on my shoulders, and I tense up.

  A man behind me breaks the silence, “Georgie, how you doin’?”

  I’m too terrified to respond.

  “I’ll forgive you for not being in a chatty mood. Although it is rude! Naw, I just kiddin’.” The man laughs to himself and massages my shoulders. “Relax Georgie, I ain’t gunna hurt you.”

  The door opens again and a new man’s voice appears, “Leave him alone.”

  “Aww, come on. We was just talkin’, right Georgie?”

  “Goodbye, Frank. Go wait in the van.”

  The first man lets go of my shoulders. The door closes and I can feel the second man approach me from behind. He comes around to the front of the chair and looks at me. Our eyes meet as I look back at him. He’s not a large man, rather small in stature actually, but he bleeds confidence. He’s vibrant with power, like he’s done this before, whatever this is. Although I didn’t see the other guy, this one’s clearly the brains of the operation. Just his presence alone tells me that.

  The man continues, “I’m sorry about all of this, George.” He points, referring to the chair. “You were out pretty good when we got here, and I didn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.” He offers a friendly smile. “You understand that, right?”

  “What’s going on here?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry, George, I’m being rude. You can call me Billy. My partner is Frank.”

  “Partner? Partner in what?”

  “Partner in what?” Billy smiles as he repeats the phrase. “Partner in all of this.” He spreads out his arms and looks around the room as if he’s proud of himself.

  I nod in understanding, although I don’t. “What do you want with me?”

  “You’ve got a lot of questions.” Billy walks past me and out of sight.

  My thigh almost spasms from the tension and I can’t help but wonder what’s about to happen to me. He returns seconds later with a chair and sits in front of me.

  “We need your help.”

  I pause a beat before responding, not sure what to make of it. “With what?”

  “We need you to help us get some money. Ten million big ones to be exact.”

  “Um, what?” I speed up, “Listen, I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not who you think I am. I’m just a banker, I can’t just get you, I don’t just have…” I pause and have a realization. “Woah, wait a minute! I can’t just-”

  Billy raises his hand to stop me. “Slow down, take a breath. I’m not asking you to take money from the bank.”

  “Oh. You’re not?”

  “Of course not. That would be too obvious. Much too obvious.”

  I exhale. “Okay, what then?”

  “George, are you familiar with the Zved’s?”

  “Who?”

  “I didn’t think so. The Zved’s are a gang here in Topeka.”

  “What kind of gang?”

  “A hit gang,” Billy pauses and waits for a reaction. I give him nothing. “They’re hit men. They kill people for money.”

  My throat falls into my stomach, and I gulp. “What about them?”

  “You’re going to take ten million bucks from them.”

  My eyes widen with fear. “I could get killed!”

  “Maybe,” he says, coldly staring at me.

  “What if I say no?”

  “What if you say no?” Billy laughs. “No is not an option. Or it won’t be that you might get killed, you will get killed. I can promise you that.”

  “And what makes you think I won’t just keep the money for myself? Assuming I do actually make it out alive.”

  Billy gets out of the chair and begins to pace in front of the two-way mirror. His mood changes, and he becomes gentle and less intimidating. “You’re a family man, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I guess.”

  Billy nods. “I thought so.”

  “I mean I’d like to be, but my parents died in a tornado a couple years ago. I’m an only child. I don’t really have any family.”

  “Is that so?”

  Billy continues to pace as if in deep thought. He moves to the far corner of the empty room and flips a light switch. The once dark two-way mirror in front of me lights up, and a room behind the glass is visible, although I can’t quite see inside from my seated position. Billy makes his way back toward me and pulls a switchblade knife from his pocket. He snaps the blade out and shows it to me. He bends down and exposes a gun that’s attached to his calf.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” he says, then he puts his pants back over his leg, covering the gun. Using the knife, he carefully saws the ropes from my wrists and ankles, freeing me.

  I’m a little woozy as I try to stand up too quickly from the chair, and I’m forced to sit. I grab my head.

  “Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Billy says, pointing to my head. “I had to make sure you’d be out for a while.” He makes his hand into the shape of a gun and re-enacts hitting me in the head with it.

  He helps me from the chair and leads me to the two-way mirror on the wall. A woman, tied in the same position that I was, rests in a similar chair with her head leaning forward as if sleeping. Billy taps on the glass with his knuckle. Startled, the girl looks up. She flings her head back, ridding the dark hair from covering her face.

  My heart falls to the floor. It’s her.

  “Alicia?”

  Almost instantly, I drop to the floor and reach for Billy’s gun. He slides out of my reach, then returns and kicks the back of my head so my face hits the floor. Blood pours out of my nose and onto the cement. Billy grabs me by the collar and pulls me to my feet. He leads me out of the room and into the hallway.

  “I told you not to try anything stupid,” Billy says, the gun now pointed at my head. He stares at me with fury, but slowly calms himself down. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket with his other hand and hands it to me. The gun is still pointed at my head. “Here.”

  I look at him, confused, with blood dripping on my collar, and take the handkerchief.

  “Now walk.” He leads me a few steps down the hall to another door. He opens it and pushes me inside then slams it behind me.

  This room is just like the one I was just in, just smaller. A lot smaller. It may have been a closet at one time. I find a light hanging from the ceiling and I pull the cord, lighting up the room. The handkerchief soaks up the blood as I apply pressure to my nose to stop the bleeding. A few moments later, before I’m even able to comprehend what’s going on, the door reopens and someone else is pushed inside. I jump back at first to protect myself, but I soon relax once I see who it is.

  It’s Alicia.

  “Two minutes,” Billy says, then he slams the door again.

  Alicia picks herself up from the floor and wipes the tears from her face. She looks horrible. Her makeup is running down her face and onto her neck. Her blouse is torn and her pants are filthy. She looks at me with fright.

  “George?”

  “Alicia?” She embraces me and sobs. “What happened to you?”

  “I’m sor
ry. I’m so sorry!” Between the sobs, she talks a thousand miles an hour. “I never meant to…I wanted to…oh, George, I’m so sorry!”

  I try to calm her down, and eventually she does. “What happened?” I ask. “Are you okay? I got this call asking if I knew you, and I was told to go to a pub, then there was this van, and these two guys, and now they want me to steal ten million bucks. What’s going on?”

  Alicia is suddenly cool. “George, listen to me, please. There isn’t much time to explain. I need you to do what they say, okay?”

  “But-”

  “No! Please, whatever they want. If you get what they want, they’ll let us go.”

  “How do you know that? How do you know they just won’t kill us both no matter what? How long have you been here?”

  Footsteps are approaching from the hallway.

  “Listen to me. Please,” Alicia insists. “I know these guys, okay? Trust me. If you get what they want, they’ll let us go. I promise, okay? I’m depending on you. Both of us are depending on you.”

  I have no choice but to agree, even though I don’t comprehend a word she’s saying. The door swings open, and Billy grabs Alicia’s arm.

  “But, Alicia-”

  Billy pulls Alicia into the hallway and slams the door. I can hear her yelling as he drags her away.

  “George, I’m pregnant!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BILLY

  I’m nervous. Maybe that’s too strong a word, maybe anxious is more appropriate. I’ve been on dates, lots of them, but this girl is special. She doesn’t think it’s a date, but it is. It’s also a business meeting, but she doesn’t know that yet either. From the second I saw her I could tell she has something that most other women do not. I can’t pinpoint it quite yet, but I will figure it out before long. I think she has what I’m looking for. I think she has what I need.