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1929 Book 4 - Drifter

Page 24

by ML Gardner


  “They were thrown out of the car. I don’t think much of it was broken.”

  “Dammit!” he said louder. “Where are they now?”

  “I put them back in the car under a blanket.”

  “I’m going to have to send someone back to get it.”

  “What about Digby?” I asked.

  “What about him?”

  “Aren’t you going back for him, too?”

  Though Mickey looked as if he were having a difficult time deciding, he spoke quickly. “I can’t. The car was stolen. If they find the car with him in it, it’ll keep them away from us. We’ll leave him there.”

  I was suddenly glad that Digby’s adoration was nothing but lies.

  “Kinsey, go steal another car and take John back to get the crates, would you?”

  It only took Kinsey twenty minutes to come back with another car and I got in, careful to sit as far away from him as possible. He didn’t say anything as we drove and that was just fine with me.

  When we got back to the car I led the way into the field. I stopped half way there.

  “That door wasn’t open when I left,” I said. I picked up my pace, pretending to be panicked. I stuck my head in and peered for crates that I knew weren’t there.

  “Hurry up,” Kinsey said.

  “I’m trying, it’s dark.” After a minute of pretending to scrounge around, I backed out of the broken windshield.

  “It’s gone,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Look for yourself.” I pointed at the door I’d left standing open. “Looks like someone already got here and found it.”

  Kinsey turned with a huff and slapped his thigh. “Mickey is going to be furious,” he said, lumbering back to the road without so much as a look at Digby.

  Sloan sat back with an expression of surprise. “So, you were the traitor?”

  Aryl shrugged. “Everyone’s a traitor under the right circumstances.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  “I went back a few days later, brought it to the city and sold it.”

  “And you didn’t think to strike out on your own with the money?” Sloan asked.

  “No,” Aryl said. “Maybe I should have, but I didn’t.”

  “Well, what did you do with it, then?”

  “I walked back to the bridge where Deek and Geddy lived. I gave it to them.”

  Sloan’s face fell. “You just gave it away?”

  Aryl nodded. “It was all I could do to make up for attacking him. And since Mickey made me do it, I figured it was fitting that it was Mickey’s money I apologized with.”

  “Hmm,” Sloan said.

  “What time is it?” Aryl asked.

  “Just after midnight.”

  Aryl blew out his breath and sat back. The staff had closed down the dining hall and left, leaving a few lights burning for them. “So, later today, I’ll be home.”

  “That sounded like a question,” Sloan said.

  “I guess it is. I need to ask, now that you’ve heard everything, what plans do you have for me?”

  “Plans?”

  “After I told you all the things I’d done, I figured I was looking at going away for awhile.”

  “Do you think I should take you to jail?”

  Aryl shrugged.

  Sloan stood and waved Aryl along. He walked to their room, swiped a file from his bag and motioned again for Aryl to follow him.

  They stopped on the deck and stood for a moment, looking out at the blue tinged night.

  “Paris gave me this,” Sloan said, holding up the file. “It’s a comprehensive list of everything you confessed to and everything you told them about Mickey and Gina.”

  “So you already knew everything I told you?”

  “Yes, just not in so much detail.”

  Aryl turned and leaned his elbows on the railing, gazing down at the water.

  “So what did they say to do with me once we got back?” he asked.

  “They weren’t clear on that. Frankly, I think they were happy that I came to take the problem off their hands.”

  Aryl hadn’t moved, head still hanging down watching the water rush by.

  “Sometimes I think that you’d choose jail over going home.”

  “Sometimes it’s less frightening,” Aryl admitted.

  “Well, you’re not going to jail. I’m a missing persons detective. Not a bounty hunter.”

  With that, he flung the file in the ocean. Aryl watched the pages flitter about before landing on the waters’ surface and slowly distance themselves from the ship.

  “You said you didn’t want to talk about it again. I respect that. After we get off this boat in a few hours, you don’t have to relive it, if you don’t want to.”

  Aryl raised his head. “Thank you,” he said with a grateful smile.

  “However while we are still on this boat there is one more thing I’d love to know.”

  “How did you turn the tables on Gina?”

  Aryl took a deep breath and stood up. “Ah. Grab some lounge chairs and let’s have one last drink, shall we?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Found Out

  Mickey sent me to get Gina and when I brought her back, he asked me to join them. I could feel her tension and I was sure she could feel mine. Even though I’d seen little of her in the week since I’d regained my memory, I think we both fully expected to be confronted with our relationship. Why else would he want to see us both?

  He didn’t rush to start talking and that made us even more nervous. A feeling washed over me, a sudden and deep knowing that I was no longer safe. Regardless of the terror that came when I thought of going home, I knew that it was time. If I walked out of this office alive.

  “I have a big job for you both,” Mickey said, finally looking up at us.

  We sat waiting for further instruction.

  “There seems to be a problem with a supplier in the north. Newcastle. I need you to go straighten it out.”

  “What’s the problem?” Gina asked.

  He looked irritated with her. “That’s what I’m sending you to find out, Gina. Every day that goes by, I’m losing money. I need it fixed. Now.”

  “We can leave tomorrow afternoon,” I said.

  “Fine. Take the train. Stay at this hotel,” he said and tossed a paper across the table. “And here’s the address of the man I need you to see. Find out what his damn problem is with getting me my product and do whatever you can to get it going again.”

  “Will do, boss.” I thought quickly and decided that while I would take the train, I wouldn’t look into Mickey’s problem and I wouldn’t be coming back.

  He got up and walked around the desk, stopping by Gina’s side. She didn’t look up at him.

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?” he asked. When she didn’t answer he leaned down and kissed her, making a big sloppy show of it. And as he stood up, he gave me a pointed look and I knew then that he knew about us.

  “Don’t let me down, you two.”

  “We won’t,” I said and stood. I didn’t wait for Gina to walk out with me, trying to show Mickey that I could care less about her. I went back to my room to rest up for the next day.

  Of course I didn’t rest at all, wondering if Mickey were going to send someone to kill me. While I waited for that, and tried to figure out some way to protect myself, I thought about home and all the people I’d lost. Aryl and John were very different people, and I had to find a way to reconcile them into someone that they could live with. Into someone I could live with. I had no idea how to do that, or how they’d react when I came home. But I knew that it was my only choice now. My hours were numbered in Mickey’s warehouse.

  The next day Gina seemed anxious to get going. She had two bags stuffed full and handed one off to me. I had no luggage, just my green bag slung over my chest with my basic necessities. I didn’t want to take anything from this place home. It was bad enough that I had to take the memories.
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br />   “How’d you sleep?” she asked as we walked along. I noticed we were going the opposite direction of the train station.

  “I didn’t.”

  “Me, either. I kept waiting for Mickey to show up at my flat. He knows, you know.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “Then you know we’re dead, right?” She looked at me as she stated this calmly.

  “If he was going to kill us, don’t you think he would have done it last night?”

  “No. He’s planning on having Kinsey do it when we get to Newcastle.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know because it’s my job to know, remember? And if you’re not convinced, then I’ll let you know that Kinsey left the warehouse last night with an overnight bag and a ticket to Newcastle. He’s planning on being there when we get there. And that kiss. Mickey hasn’t kissed me in years. He was kissing me goodbye.” She raised her eyebrows, daring me to doubt her. “There’s no supply problem, John. He’s sending us there to get rid of us.”

  “So obviously we can’t go north.”

  “No. We’re going to Paris. It’s not the way this is supposed to work, but I can’t be choosy right now.”

  I didn’t follow what she was saying but since I had already made my own plans, I didn’t care. A boat would sail to New York from France just as often as London. It made no difference to me from what port I left. The only thing I hadn’t decided is exactly how and when to part ways with Gina. Definitely after I was safe in France.

  “Over here,” she said as we got closer to the water. I could smell the ocean. It made me homesick. She bought two one way tickets, third classto Cherbourg, France.

  “Why wouldn’t we go to Calais? It’s closer.”

  “That’s where he’d expect us to go when he figures out we didn’t show up in Newcastle,” she said. “We’ll catch the train in Cherbourg to Paris.”

  We had to wait three hours to board and went to a café for dinner. I was quietly preoccupied with my memories.

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked, picking at her sandwich.

  “A lot,” I said.

  “Care to share? Pass the time while we’re waiting?”

  “Can I have my ticket?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “I’d just like to hold onto it.”

  She dug in her bag and handed it to me. I folded it and tucked it into my pants pocket. The truth was, I didn’t want her holding it from me after what I was about to say. I stirred my coffee before taking a sip.

  “I remembered who I am,” I said casually, setting the mug down.

  She didn’t look quite shocked, but very interested.

  “Did you now?”

  “That night I was at your house…on my way there I slipped and fell in the rain. Hit my head on the curb. It all came back to me.”

  “Well, who are you, then?”

  “My name isn’t John, it’s Aryl. I live in…” I decided not to give her the town. “Massachusetts. I’m a fisherman. The boat I was on went down and that’s how I lost my memory. I’m married to a woman named Claire.”

  Her face fell. “Well, it sounded great until that last bit,” she said. I shouldn’t have told her so much, but it was liberating to say it all out loud.

  I went back to my coffee and my thoughts.

  “Are you going home, then?” she asked.

  I had kept myself closed off since Dmitri, and even more so since remembering myself. I shrugged, not wanting to give anything more away.

  “If you do decide to leave, will you let me know first? So I can say goodbye?”

  “Yeah.” I hadn’t decided if I was lying about this or not, and I wondered how she intended on saying goodbye. I certainly wasn’t going to give her more than a few minutes warning, if any. I didn’t want to risk her setting it up so I couldn’t leave.

  We ate in silence and I forgot Gina was there most of the time. I stared out the window lost in thoughts of Claire. I wondered what she’d been doing in the time I’d been gone. It hadn’t been a year since the accident, so she wouldn’t have moved on quite yet and have interested men calling on her.

  And as always, my thoughts roamed to a darker side, worried about what she’d think of me…worried I’d changed past someone she would recognize. Worried I couldn’t be normal for her. Gina cleared her throat bringing me back to the present moment. I went around and around trying to figure out how I’d tell Claire about her. That could certainly change a happy reunion.

  We boarded as the sun set. It was a small boat, big enough to ferry passengers comfortably from London to Cherbourg. We went below where no natural light shone. The accommodations weren’t anything to write home about. I wished we were able to travel in the daytime so we didn’t even have to get a room. We didn’t sleep at night anyway.

  I had flashes then of my honeymoon, the grand suite and private deck. Two weeks of posh luxury with Claire all to myself.

  This room was the size of a thumbprint with metal bunks and little room to turn around.

  “God, I don’t belong here,” I whispered.

  “Pardon?” Gina squeezed past me and put her bags at the foot of her bunk. She pulled out a flask and took a sip.

  “I’d say this calls for a drink, eh? Breakin’ out on our own all rebellious like.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “Well, yes. I can’t go back, John. He’ll kill me.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Start over somewhere.” She nodded to the bag on the bottom bunk. I took liberties with Mickey’s inventory room before I left. I’ve got enough to get myself started in a new place. What about you?” Her eyes wandered over me, questioning. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe stay in Paris for awhile.”

  “That’d be fun, actually. We should do it, Paris is nice.” Her bright smile told me that she was hoping I’d agree. I didn’t.

  “I think I need to break off, Gina. Away from all of this.”

  Her smile fell. “So this is it, then? You’re going home?”

  “Yeah. I have to.”

  “No, you don’t, John. You don’t have to. You can stay here with me and we can build something really big, live like royals. I know we can.” She stood up and took a step which landed her against me. She tried using a tilt of her head and insinuating eyes to sway me. “Don’t forget what I told you at my flat, John. I fell in love wi’ you. I meant that and nothing’s changed. Why do you think I wanted you to come with me? If I didn’t care, I could have gotten on the train with you in London and then just disappeared.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t,” I said flatly.

  “John, I would never!”

  I tried to back away but there was little room. I reached for the door. “Gina, I’m going to get some air.”

  “Wait, there’s something I have to tell you. I know you still think I was steppin’ out on you. I never told you what I was really doing. I should have, but I didn’t want to risk messing it all up.”

  “Messing what up?”

  “I’d been meeting with the police the last few weeks, John. I was in the process of telling them everything I know in exchange for immunity, of course, and getting ready to hand Mickey over on a silver platter.”

  “How unloyal of you,” I said.

  She scoffed. “He’d do it to me in a heartbeat. Look at what he was about to do! Send us off to die.”

  “Is that because he found out you were going to turn on him? Or because of us?”

  “It had to be because of us. I was very careful when dealing with the police.”

  “What did you tell them about me?”

  “I had to give them your first name.” Suddenly I regretted telling her my real name. “However, I made it clear that you were not really there under your own free will.”

  “So, Mickey gets caught, you go free, what happens to me?”

  Her owl eyed expression told me
she hadn’t made any plans to see me to safety when it all fell apart.

  “That’s what I thought,” I said and moved past her. I climbed up on my bunk and stretched out. The blanket smelled of mildew.

  “Of course I’d see that they let you go, John,” she said, folding her arms on my mattress. She dropped her chin down casually. “I wouldn’t let them arrest you.”

  I laughed. “As if you have any control over that.”

  “I would!”

  “So, what happens now?”

  She twisted her lips, thinking. “I suppose I’ll go to the police in Paris. Get them to telegram the police in London. Or, maybe I could just hole up there for awhile and then slip back to London on the sly.” She stepped away and folded her arms. “Or, I could just forget the whole thing and start a new life.”

  “Don’t you want to see Mickey get what he deserves?”

  She shrugged, indifferent. I went back to staring at the water stained ceiling.

  “Do you need a dose? I’ve got plenty,” she said in a teasing tone.

  “No.”

  “I miss the old days, John. When you liked being around me. When you looked forward to seeing me.” She ran her hand slowly up my thigh. “We had some good times.”

  I jerked my leg away. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

  She pouted, leaning against the wall. “What do you want from me, John?”

  “Nothing. Just leave me alone.”

  She swiped up her flask in a huff and turned. “I’m going to go find a refill, then.”

  She slammed the door behind her childishly and for a moment I just lay there. I hopped off the bunk and quickly turned the lock. I pulled her bag on my lap and flipped it open. Inside I found a lot of opiates and transferred a few bottles to my bag.

  Digging deeper, I found papers outlining Mickey’s operation. Lists of everyone who worked for him. And “John” was right at the top under Mickey’s name. She had lists of crimes, murders, burglaries, all with the names of who had committed them. And scanning the page, I saw my name in several places. She kept detailed notes on everyone.

  I returned the papers to their place, not needing to read every page. It was clear what she was doing and it infuriated me. How could she claim to love me while planning to serve me as a side dish on Mickey’s silver platter?

 

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