by D. M. Pulley
Motega’s voice did not waver. “I am not afraid of death, and I will not live without justice. Shoot me.”
Jasper’s eyes bulged open.
The marshal cocked his gun and glanced at Galatas.
The old man was the one smiling now. “First things first, Charles. We must have back what he stole. Shoot him in the foot. Shoot him until he talks.”
Motega laughed. “You can bleed me all you want. I will die happy. Your Mexican friends will kill you for me. And they will kill you slow. My blood will be your blood. So shoot me.”
The marshal fired a warning shot, and Jasper let out a muffled scream into the detective’s palm and tried to kick free.
Galatas turned to Marshal Duncan. “Did you hear something?”
Marshal Duncan lowered his gun. “There’s no one else here, Perry.”
The detective wrestled Jasper to the ground in a crackle of leaves as Galatas called out into the trees. “Taki? Did you hear that?”
Detective Russo and Jasper froze. Heavy footsteps approached them from behind. The detective released Jasper and turned, but the sound of a pump shotgun loading a round stopped him. It was only then that Jasper noticed the gun in the detective’s hand.
“Drop the piece, Russo,” a low voice growled, and a dull thump hit the dirt by Jasper’s feet. The voice called out, “I got something over here, boss.”
“Let us see who you found.”
“Move,” the voice commanded.
“Just everybody stay calm,” Detective Russo warned, but the authority had gone out of his voice. He grabbed Jasper by the overall straps and marched him out into the clearing. “This has nothing to do with either of us, Perry. I wasn’t even here. Besides, I know we can work something out. I have friends over in Narcotics.”
Jasper’s eyes locked onto Motega. The man shot him a look of bewildered fury, then hung his head.
“Hello, John. It is so nice to see you again.” Galatas smiled, then nodded his head at Taki.
The blast of the shotgun split the air. The ground crashed into Jasper’s face as the man gripping his shoulder straps hit the dirt. Another blast of the gun drove a gurgling sigh through the detective’s mouth.
A hand yanked Jasper up off the ground. Detective Russo didn’t move.
“Jesus, Perry,” a distant voice protested.
Galatas kept talking to the back of Russo’s corpse, but Jasper could barely comprehend the muffled words through the blasts ringing in his ears. “Tell your Italian friends back in Detroit not to fuck with me. Now, Motega, you will show us where you’ve buried my product, or we will dig three graves tonight.”
Motega answered in a voice too soft and defeated to hear.
Jasper was dragged through the woods, his mind beating its tiny wings against the bars of its cage. Uncle Leo will never forgive me. When will they find out I’ve gone? The book is still in the detective’s car. My mother will be furious I left it behind. I’m sorry, Mom.
His captor kept a tight grip on the back of his neck even when they finally stopped moving. Jasper gazed down at his clothes, stained red with the detective’s blood. I’m so sorry.
“So where is it?” Galatas demanded. Marshal Duncan trained his flashlight on Motega’s grim face.
More muddled words were followed by the sounds of a shovel lifting dirt. They’re digging my grave. Jasper’s thoughts fluttered and fell. He felt himself falling too. There was no ground to catch him. This is where they’ll bury me.
Then another voice, clear as a bell, cut through the buzzing in his ears.
“Evenin’, gentlemen! Mind explaining what you’re all up to out here?”
Jasper’s eyes pulled back into focus. It was Sheriff Bradley coming up over the ridge with a deputy. He had a rifle in one hand and a light in the other. The man with him held a shotgun.
“Just tending to some tribal business. What are you doin’ up here, Cal?” Marshal Duncan trained his flashlight onto the sheriff. “You’re out of your jurisdiction.”
“Well, beggin’ your pardon, Chuck, but Black River ends about fifty feet up that hill. This here’s St. Clair County, and I received an anonymous call an hour ago that we might find some more of them sacks around here. We heard gunshots. Mind explaining that?” The sheriff’s light flitted between the marshal, Galatas, and Motega, and then fell on Jasper.
The man gripping his neck let go. The instant the sheriff’s light lifted, the hands behind Jasper started fumbling with a shotgun. He’s reloading, a voice whispered in his ear. This is your only chance. Run. Run!
Jasper took off blindly through the woods, stumbling and flailing through the dark. Cold air rushed past as leaves and twigs battered his face. He heard angry shouting behind him but couldn’t register the voices. He just kept going, searching for the road. For help. For anybody.
A bloody scream tore through the woods somewhere behind him followed by gunshots.
He tripped over a log and went sprawling onto the ground. More shots rang out in the distance. Jasper scrambled into the shadow of a large tree and curled himself into a ball under a thicket of branches. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying to disappear. Don’t let them find me, Mom. Please don’t let them find me.
CHAPTER 59
Do you expect us to believe you were just an innocent bystander?
Mom?
Jasper found himself back in his grandmother’s house, standing at the foot of the stairs into the loft above. He’d heard a voice. At least he thought he had. I’m dreaming, he realized as he stared up at the pink sky trapped between the broken rafters.
The only sound he could hear was the whistle of a distant bird outside. Until a voice whispered, “Who’s there?”
Jasper slowly climbed the stairs.
“Hello?” he whispered from the top step. The dark rectangle of the dresser sat in the corner. Across from it were the two beds. A large shadow sat on the edge of a mattress. He let out a startled yelp when it moved.
“Jasper!” the voice gasped.
A yellow flame blazed up. He squinted in the sudden light. “Mom?”
The shadow lowered the lamp so he could see its face. It was her. He grabbed the handrail to catch himself from falling down the stairs.
“What on earth are you doing here?” she hissed.
“I—I had a dream. A wolf was chasing me. I needed to find you,” he stammered, still not believing his eyes. Her face blurred in his tears. “Is it really you?”
“Yes, baby. It’s me. Come here.” She smiled in the lamplight and held out her arms, beckoning him over, wanting to hold him.
He ran to her, nearly tripping on the warped floorboards. He’d never been so overwhelmed with emotions in his entire life. He couldn’t even name them all.
She wrapped him in her arms. “Shh . . . It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry.”
“I missed you,” he sobbed. “I dreamed you were dead.”
“Dead? Where did you get such a silly idea?”
His words smothered in her shoulder as he bawled about Ayasha and the detective getting shot and Galatas and the federal marshal and Motega. She didn’t seem to understand any of it.
All she said was, “Shh! Shh! I missed you too, baby. I would never leave you all alone.” After a few more incoherent minutes, she grabbed his shoulders and gently pushed him away. “You shouldn’t be here. Where’s your uncle?”
Jasper fought to regain his composure and remember. “I left . . . I had this dream, and I had to find you. They were still asleep.”
“Well, they’re not asleep now. You have to get back.” She looked him hard in the eyes. “They can’t know I’m here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Not yet. He wiped at his eyes. “Why? . . . Why are you here? Why did you leave?”
“I didn’t leave. I just needed them to think I had. I had to protect you. I had to keep them away.”
“Were you always here? In this house? At the clinic? Were you there?”
She bit her lips and nodded. “I came to visit you every chance I got, baby. I just couldn’t let you or your uncle know. It’s not safe.”
“Big Bill said you only have two days until they’re gonna do something terrible. Why? Why are they looking for you?”
Her eyes widened at the name. A deep frown creased her face, and her hands dug into his shoulders. For a moment, Jasper feared she’d hit him. “None of your damned business. Understand? You stay away from them. Don’t you ever listen to one word they say—not about me, not about nothin’. They’re liars, baby. They’re killers . . . You have to stop asking questions.”
He nodded and fought off another round of tears. He decided he didn’t care if she hit him. “Are they going to kill you? Are you dead?”
“Not just yet,” a deep voice answered from the top of the stairs.
His mother lurched up, grabbing Jasper by the arm, shoving him behind her back so he couldn’t see. “Bill,” she gasped. “I—I was coming to see you today. I was.”
“Sure you were.” Big Bill chuckled. “It’s a bit too late for that. You’re going to do exactly as I say, and maybe I’ll let the kid go.”
“Let him go now,” she demanded, but Jasper could hear the panic in her voice. “He’s got nothin’ to do with this. He’s just a boy.”
“Don’t worry, Thea. I kinda like the little fella. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have found this place.” Big Bill walked over, grabbed Jasper by the wrist, and yanked him away from his mother. A gun was in his other hand. “I’ve been watching him for weeks.”
A bolt of panic struck him. Bill had followed him, and he’d been too stupid to notice. The stand of trees, he realized, there were plenty of places to hide in the trees flanking the far side of the barn. He hadn’t even bothered to look over his shoulder.
Big Bill picked up the oil lamp and winked at Jasper’s mother. Bile flooded Jasper’s stomach. Bill had seen the lamp burning in the windows out over the dark fields like a beacon.
“It’s all kind of fitting when you think about it.” Bill grinned. “You. Up here.”
The blood drained from Althea’s face.
“Just think. You’ll get to finish what you started. I even brought a knife.” He pulled a pocketknife out of his pants and tossed it onto the bed. The other hand kept the gun pressed to the back of Jasper’s head.
“Stop it, Bill,” she protested, but the fire had gone out of her voice.
“Don’t worry, Thea. I’ll be nice. See? I brought your favorite.” He pulled a bottle of whiskey from his other pocket.
“I’ve stopped all that now,” she whimpered.
“Sure you have.” He tossed the bottle onto the bed. He pulled a small bag of powder out next and grinned. “Just like old times, huh?”
Tears began to run down her face. Jasper didn’t understand what was happening, but he could see the terror in his mother’s eyes. He had to do something. He thought of the bus driver.
Big Bill lowered the gun and grabbed the boy’s arm. Without hesitating, Jasper reared up and took a hard kick at the man’s nuts. His foot swung wide and landed on the man’s thigh. Bill didn’t even flinch.
“No, Jasper. Don’t,” his mother choked out and sobbed. “Leave him alone.”
“Gotta love his spirit, don’t ya?” He laughed, then smacked the boy soundly across the face. The room exploded into spots. Jasper hit the floor.
“Stay down, boy. This isn’t going to get any better for you.”
Jasper blinked his eyes clear and watched the man’s black leather boots cross the floor over to the bed. His mother fell back onto the torn mattress with a squeak.
“Now, Thea. You’re going to tell me everything you told that detective. Aren’t you?”
“I didn’t—” Her voice was cut short by a loud smack.
“Yes, you did. Now take your medicine . . .” An acrid-smelling smoke filled the air. “That’s a good girl. I’m going to ask you again. What did you tell that cop about our business?”
“Nothing,” she sobbed. “They took me in for questioning, but I didn’t tell them anything, I sw—” Her voice was silenced by another slap.
“Where are the pages you took from our books, Thea? What were you plannin’ to trade for them? Huh? Did you think your red-skinned boyfriend might get off easy? Did you think they might find the guy that did your girl?” The bed creaked as Bill plopped himself down next to her. “Ayasha tried this same shit, Thea, talkin’ to cops about our business up at Black River, and look what happened to her.”
“You son of a—” his mother screamed. Another hard slap rang out.
“You should’ve done your homework, Thea. No Detroit cop’s gettin’ anywhere up here. He’s way out of his jurisdiction, and you’re out of your fucking mind. You even check his credentials? He’s on a goddamn payroll. The Italians bent him up years ago. There’s no federal investigation. You’d have been better off getting on your knees for Marshal Duncan, but instead you chose to stab the only people that ever gave a rat’s ass about you right in the back.”
“Bill, I swear—”
“Shut up. You’re only making this harder on yourself. How many more people gotta die over this, Thea? You already got one cop killed, stickin’ his nose in this business. Right now it’s just you and me, and I’m willing to let you go out on a high note. Shit, I’ve got a soft spot for ya. You don’t want me to bring in the big boys, do you? They’ll come up here and have a real nice party with you. And your boy. You know that. Right?”
The bed shook, and his mother let out a sob.
“Stop it!” Jasper shrieked and staggered to his feet in a daze. “Leave her alone!”
“Look who decided to join us.” Bill brandished his yellow teeth in a wolfish grin. “Come here, Jasper. Come sit with Uncle Billy.”
The man grabbed Jasper by the back of the neck and forced him down onto his knee. Jasper tried to wrench free, but the huge man held him tight against the barrel of his chest. His mother’s face was swollen red on one side. Her eyes let out a silent scream.
“Leave him out of this, Bill,” she pleaded. “It’s got nothin’ to do with him. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“I know you will, hon.” He bounced Jasper on his knee. “He’s real cute. Just like his daddy, right?”
“Stop it.”
“Little Jasper. There’s so much you don’t know, isn’t there? Do you want to know what Mommy here did for a living? How many men she wrapped those skinny legs around until she found one dumb enough to put a ring on her finger?”
Jasper fought to get his arms free but couldn’t budge.
“Do you know who she works for?” Bill whispered in his ear, mocking his mother’s voice. “Killers.”
Jasper gaped up at the sky through the hole in the roof. A faraway voice told him it was getting lighter out, but it was drowned out by the sweaty laughter in his ear.
“Do you want to know how this place burned down, kid? She did it, you know. She got real hopped up one night and decided to come home to dear old Mom and Dad. Boy, the rumors flew back then that she’d gone crazy and tried to kill them all in their sleep. That she’d tried to kill herself. The family called it an accident—a lit cigarette fallin’ to the floor. But they found her poor daddy swinging from the rafters a few days later. It’s amazing they didn’t lock you up right then. Isn’t it, baby? Shit, you’ve been lookin’ for a way to die since I met you.”
Jasper tried not to look at his mother. Her face had become grotesque as the room warped around him. He couldn’t get his eyes to focus.
“Don’t listen to him, baby. He’s crazy,” the pulsing face whimpered.
“No. She’s the crazy one, Jasper. And after tonight, no one will ever doubt that.”
“Let him go, Bill. This is between us, right? Just you and me. I’ll tell you what you want to know.” Her distorted face twisted into a smile as she took a long swig from the whiskey bottle.
“That’s a
good girl.” He lifted Jasper from his lap and tousled his hair. “Sorry, little champ. You’re not invited to this party.”
The last thing Jasper heard before the pistol hit him in the head was his mother’s voice. She was shrieking, “No!”
He came to, facedown on the floorboards. The worst noise he’d ever heard was coming from above him. It sounded like Hoyt’s big boar Horace was in the room. He tried to lift his head, but a sharp pain in his skull sent it back to the floor. The room flashed white and purple.
Under the horrible noises, he could hear someone crying. It was his mother.
He pushed himself up to his knees, heaving his stomach into his throat at the sudden motion. Stomach acid dripped onto the floor. There was a puddle of blood where his head had landed. The room throbbed. A lumpy mass in the corner was thrashing about. A mess of arms and legs. Squinting in the yellow light, he could see a naked giant. It was moving violently.
Jasper gaped at it, paralyzed, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. His mother sobbed, and the room reeled around him. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear Sally screaming in the well. He pressed his hands to his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to disappear.
No.
He forced his hands back to the quaking floorboards. I won’t let her die. The only light was the oil lamp on the floor. It seemed a million miles away. He couldn’t feel his arms or legs but somehow willed them to move. I won’t let her die. With his eyes fixed on the lamp, Jasper crawled toward it. He grabbed its steel handle and pulled himself to his feet.
It was as though he was watching himself from a perch on the ceiling as he silently approached the writhing beast. He swung the lamp with both hands like a baseball bat. It went crashing into the back of the monster’s head with a hollow crack. Glass splintered into jagged shards as it shattered against its skull. Oil splattered over its back, and in the hanging instant before its hair caught fire, the beast stared dumbly into Jasper’s eyes. But Jasper wasn’t there. He was somewhere else, watching in terror. The shell of a boy just stared blankly as he raised the lamp up and whacked the beast again.