Chapter 6
Pulling his car up in front of the old, rundown house in one of the last untouched areas of Five Points, Derry remembered the first day he saw this place. It had been his home for almost five years, and part of him missed living here—the noise, the confusion, the life. There was always something interesting going on, and he missed Mary’s ready words of wisdom and encouragement.
Mary took him in after he was kicked out of his home. That had been over six years ago. His stepfather, a man of harsh rules and an unforgiving spirit, had refused to listen to reason. When Tami was killed, Derry’s stepfather blamed him and forced him to leave. He told Derry he never wanted to see him again.
Walking toward the front steps of Mary’s house, Derry heard yelling through the living room window. That wasn’t so unusual, and at first he smiled. Then he heard banging. The movement in the front window caught his attention. A body crashed against the glass. Derry rushed up the stairs and shoved the door open.
The room was filled with teens yelling and screaming, their attention fixed on two boys fighting. The bigger one had the other by the throat, halfway out the window as he punched him in the face.
Thrusting his way through the thin wall of kids, Derry rushed over. He threw an arm around the neck of the attacker and dragged him away from the window. Spinning him around, Derry threw him to the floor. The boy was bigger than Derry, but Derry had the advantage of surprise.
The boy sprang to his feet as the room became silent.
“You’ve made a big mistake, little man.” He was African-American, and a good eight inches taller than Derry. His face radiated anger and hatred.
Hoping not to escalate the situation, Derry asked calmly, “How’s that?” He kept his gaze on the attacker and assumed a relaxed stance.
“You’re messing in something that’s none of your business.”
The other boy, Hispanic, stumbled to where Derry could see him out of the corner of his eye. He held his nose, his hands filled with blood.
Glancing at him, but keeping the attacker in sight, Derry suggested, “Better let Mary have a look at that.” He wanted the boy out of the room.
The boy nodded but didn’t move.
Mary squeezed her way in next to the Hispanic boy, concern on her face. Derry nodded toward the kitchen, hoping she would understand. She quickly moved the hurt boy away.
Derry returned his full attention to the attacker. “What’s this all about?”
“I told you, it’s none of your business. Are you as hard of hearing as you are stupid?” The tall boy moved to within two feet of Derry.
Derry smiled a little. The kid was playing the old game of chicken. He wanted to see who would blink first. He didn’t know Derry or his background. He was making a big mistake.
Still hoping to defuse the situation, Derry glanced again toward the kitchen. Mary stood in the doorway, arms around the hurt kid.
“What happened here?”
The attacker shifted his position, blocking Derry’s view of Mary, “You’d better leave, now, before I hurt you, little man.”
Mary answered from behind the attacker, “Trevor was kicked out a few days ago for fighting. Then today he came back and attacked Joey.”
Trevor’s gaze shifted as Mary spoke, but he didn’t take his attention off Derry for more than a split second. It was clear he’d been in more than a few fights and knew how to handle himself. Glaring down at Derry, he added, “The little creep ratted on me. No one does that iffen they wanna live.”
Having grown up just on the other side of I-25, Derry understood his way of thinking. If you copped on someone, you were as good as dead. That was the law out there on the street, but not in here. The kids who lived at Mary’s obeyed a different law. Here, you obeyed Mary’s rules or you left. And if you knew about someone breaking her rules and kept it to yourself, and it came out you knew, you would receive the same punishment as the one who broke the rules. It sounded harsh, but it worked.
Glaring into Trevor’s eyes, Derry gave one command. “Out.”
A fake laugh erupted from Trevor. “And who’s gonna make me leave? You?” Trevor wasn’t scared. Derry knew his type.
“If necessary, but I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.”
Trevor came here for a fight, and wouldn’t leave until he was satisfied. Cutting the distance between them in half, Trevor balled up his fist. “No one tells me what to do.”
Ten different moves flashed through Derry’s mind. All of them would end with Trevor as the loser. Lucky for Trevor, Derry avoided unnecessary fights, those with the purpose of making someone look tough. Pressing past him, Derry walked over to the open door. “It’s time for you to leave. Out.” He nodded toward the front porch.
Trevor strutted over and shoved Derry against the wall, hard. “You must be as dumb as you are small. I done told you, I ain’t goin’ nowhere until I’m good and ready.”
Righting himself, Derry stared up into Trevor’s eyes. “That was your one free hit. The next one will cost you.”
“Oh yeah?” Trevor pulled his fist back. Aiming for Derry’s face, he threw a punch with the full force of his body.
Derry’s left hand came flying up and pushed the fist off course a few inches. Trevor struck the wall. Derry planted the palm of his right hand sharply into Trevor’s midsection. The one-two combination took less than a second.
Shoved back a step, Trevor let out a grunt as surprise filled his face.
Derry came back to his starting position. “I warned you. Leave.”
Trevor recovered, throwing another punch.
Moving quickly out of the way, Derry brought his right hand up to catch Trevor’s arm on the side. With his left hand, Derry hit the backside of the kid’s elbow, overextending it.
Trevor exclaimed loudly as he pulled his arm back, clutching the injured elbow with his good hand. He followed with a right foot to Derry’s stomach.
Twisting slightly as the foot flew by, Derry brought his right hand down and around, striking the side of Trevor’s knee. Then, using his left hand, Derry planted a driving blow into the bottom of the kid’s jaw.
Trevor’s head snapped backward, and his body fell limply to the floor.
The whole attack was over in less than thirty seconds.
Derry stared down at Trevor. Then he looked at Mary. “Sorry it had to turn into a fight.”
A slight smile on her face, Mary left Joey standing in the kitchen doorway and strolled over to Derry. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“He never even touched you, did he?” Mary peered down at the kid on the floor.
“He came close.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“He’ll live, but he’s going to hurt for a while. He should come around in a minute or two.” Derry hoped he hadn’t hurt Trevor too badly. The last hit to the head could cause serious damage if done too hard.
“You know I hate to see any of my kids get hurt, but he was out of control. Thank you.”
“Glad I was here to help.” Derry was concerned. One of these days, someone like Trevor could hurt Mary.
“Aaahh.” Trevor was coming around. He opened his eyes. Seeing Derry standing over him, he held up one hand. “Enough. I’ll leave.” He worked his way to his feet and started toward the door, but turned back. Glaring over at Joey, he added, “You’d better watch your back. This ain’t ov—”
Before he could finish his threat, Derry had Trevor spun around and up against the doorframe, arm pulled up behind his back, cheek pressed hard against the corner of the doorjamb. Derry used his other hand to apply pressure to a group of nerves in the kid’s shoulder. Trevor screamed in pain.
“If I hear about anything happening to Joey, Mary, or anyone living here, I’ll find you, and I don’t care if y
ou did it or not, you’ll be the one paying. Understand?”
Trevor twisted and turned, but Derry’s grip was too tight.
“I asked you a question. If I hear—”
“Yeah, I got it.” Anger and hatred overflowed in Trevor’s voice.
Derry shoved Trevor’s arm up higher, increasing the pressure on the nerves.
“I said I got it!” His voice was now a mixture of pain and submission.
Pointing him toward the street, Derry gave him one last thrust before closing the door.
Derry turned to Mary. “I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“No, probably not. He’ll find someplace new to cause trouble.”
“He’ll end up on the streets. What place would take him?”
Mary shifted her gaze from the door to the window. “There’s always someplace looking for kids like him.”
Derry glanced around the room. Kids gawked, some in disbelief, others with a knowing grin. A few of them knew Derry from when he lived there. Several others had moved in during the past two years and only knew him as the accountant who helped Mary occasionally.
“I see you’ve taken in a few new faces since I was here last.”
Mary’s was a private youth home, supported by Lamar, several police officers in town, and a few churches. It was an old, large house in the Five Points area. Mary lived in the basement, leaving the main and upper floors for the kids. Her mother started the home by taking in two homeless children. In the last twenty-three years, the project had grown into a major undertaking. Now, with as many as twenty kids in the home, it was more than a full-time job for Mary. It was her life.
When Lamar first brought Derry here, he was full of hatred and hurt. All that changed as Mary and Lamar showed him God’s love. Derry learned to forgive those who hurt him. What a difference six years makes.
Mary took charge once again. “Okay, kids, it’s over. Tom, I’d like you and Sam to clean up the glass and get something to cover the window. Anyone else who wants to help, stick around. I’ll find something for you to do.”
As Mary stood with her hands on her hips, the room started emptying, and Tom and Sam moved a couch out of the way to work.
She turned back to Derry. “I was calling Lamar when you arrived. I’d better call him back and let him know what happened.”
“Otherwise, he might show up looking for a fight.” Glancing around, Derry added, “I’ll get started on your books. Is the computer still in the basement?”
“Yeah, same as always, and Derry?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks, Trevor had me a little scared. I think I’m getting too old for this.”
“You? Never. You love the excitement and you know it.”
“Well, I’m just glad you didn’t give up karate after Tami died.”
“I almost did. My stepfather made me hate it.”
“Still haven’t forgiven him?”
Not wanting to answer, or get pulled into an argument, Derry headed for the basement, but stopped after a few steps. He spun back around. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’d like to invite you and Lamar to dinner sometime next week.”
“You know I don’t like going out for meals. It’s such a waste of money.”
“How about at my house? Next Tuesday?”
“You gonna cook?”
“What’s wrong with my cooking?”
“Have you taken lessons since you moved out?”
“Nooo.”
“Look, honey. I love you and all. You’re like a son to me. But no matter how hard I tried, I never could teach you to cook a decent meal. You liked to kill us all when you tried.” Mary was serious and right. At best, Derry’s cooking was barely edible.
“Okay, in order to save myself a lawsuit, I’ll get food from this place I found that makes great home-cooked meals at a reasonable price.”
“Good, glad you found a place like that. Otherwise I think you’d have starved by now.”
“What about next Tuesday?” The joke had gone on long enough.
“I think I can make it then. Would you like me to bring anything?”
“No, that’s fine.”
“How about some pumpkin flan? I know you love that.”
“Sure, if it’s not too much work.” Derry turned toward the stairs. “I’d better get to work.”
***
Although fixed up nicely for the basement of a seventy-year-old house, the downstairs was poorly lit and smelled of mold. The old walls allowed the ground moisture to seep through.
Derry sat down at the computer and depressed the power button. Before the computer had time to boot, he heard Mary coming down the stairs.
With his gaze on the monitor, he asked the same question he’d asked several times before. “Why do you still live down here? It’s not good for you.”
“It has all I need, you know that. And this way we have more room upstairs.”
“That’s just an excuse. Lamar raised enough money for you to buy the small house next door. It’s been empty for a few years now. Why won’t you move there?”
“I’d be too far away from my kids, and I needed that money elsewhere.”
Derry didn’t like basements. To him they were places where bugs, snakes, and rats lived. He’d rather sleep on the streets than in a basement. “You’re just making excuses.”
“Just like you not going to see your stepfather?”
“That’s different.”
“You’re right. You’ve forgiven the kids who shot Tami. You’ve forgiven yourself for not protecting her. Why won’t you forgive your stepfather?”
The computer had finished loading the program. Derry twisted to face the monitor and acted as if he were trying to work. Mary had successfully changed the subject, something she did well.
He could feel her behind him, waiting for an answer. “It’s not that easy.”
“You’re telling me hatred is easier?”
“No.” Derry stopped his work. Twisting in the chair, he peered at Mary. “I don’t hate him. Not anymore. I just wouldn’t know what to say to him or my mom. He kicked me out and told me to never come back. Not the other way around, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. So, you’re telling me you’re afraid?”
“I’m not afraid, I just don’t know where to start.”
“If you stop by to see him, it will come to you. I’ve never seen you at a loss for words when it mattered.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Think hard. You need to get past this.”
Chapter 7
Checking her phone, Sara was happy to see she was almost an hour late. Good.
Jasper’s Restaurant, located three blocks north of the Sixteenth Street Mall, was at the edge of the downtown area. As she walked in, Jasper was wiping off the tables. His was a small Greek restaurant on the first floor of one of the older high-rises that housed several businesses, including a software company. The dated interior of the restaurant was laid out with eight tables and five booths in the dining area. Along one wall was a short dark-mahogany bar with seven red-topped barstools. The place badly needed an update. Its décor included dim yellow lights and dark paneling to match the bar.
The food was okay, but business was sparse, placing the owner in need of money. This gave Levy the advantage he needed to take control of the business’ future.
Sara didn’t like Jasper, and respected him even less. He reminded her of one of those overweight shop owners pictured in a third-world open market, always trying to sell tourists junk they don’t want.
The place was empty except for her and Jasper. “Trying to hide the mouse droppings? Afraid the health inspector might come in and shut you down?”
Jasper bucked at her voice. Circling the table,
he moved toward her, disapproval in his face. “You’re late. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” He tossed the washcloth on a table.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
Contempt laced his words. “Your friends dropped off a bunch of boxes yesterday. They’re in my way.”
“Really? I’m surprised. Did you have a customer show up?”
“I have a business to run. I put them in the back.” He shuffled back toward the table on which he’d tossed the rag.
“Get them for me.” Not a request but a command. Sara walked over to his cash register.
“I have work to do. You can get them yourself.” Jasper rinsed the rag in a pan of water.
Sara spun around and headed for the door. “I’m out of here. You can take it up with Levy.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I’ll let Levy know you refuse to work with us.”
“Hey, I have my own work to do.”
“And I’m not going to go running around in the back, looking for boxes. It’s probably full of rats and other animals, waiting to be cooked up for your customers.”
“I don’t—” Jasper threw the rag into the pan of soapy water. “Fine, I’ll get them for you.”
As he exited the room, Sara mumbled rather loudly, “Must have hit upon the truth.”
“You’re a pain in the—” She couldn’t hear the rest.
She felt some satisfaction as she looked over Jasper’s setup. One redeeming point to this job was her treatment of him. She delighted in humiliating him.
As Jasper brought out the boxes, Sara cleared off a space on which to set up the new computer and card reader. “And bring that washcloth over here. This place is filthy. Don’t you ever clean this area?” It wasn’t that dirty, and it didn’t really bother her, it just gave her another opportunity to make Jasper’s life intolerable.
“My customers don’t see this, so it doesn’t need to be that clean,” Jasper said as he set the final box down. Small beads of sweat formed on his temple.
“So, now you think you have customers. As in more than one?” Sara grabbed a steak knife off a nearby table and started cutting open the boxes.
Fatal Transaction (Thriller & Suspense, Cyber Crime) Page 4