Why had he gotten himself into this? he wondered. Whatever had possessed him to let Ava talk him into her evil plot? The woman must be able to cast a spell, he considered. He was no saint, but he was convinced that Ava had powers over minds that normal people didn’t have. She always got what she wanted. She could talk people into anything.
Joe sighed wearily. He felt like such a fool. And he felt that way not only for himself, but also, for Robbie. What a success the two Riley brothers had become in life, he brooded. Mom and dad would be so proud. They had bred two life-takers. And as for that backstabbing brother of his, Joe just hoped desperately that he would be found, wherever he was at – probably New Port. He wanted Robbie to give up the disk, and somehow, still have to go to prison. He wanted his brother to suffer just like he wanted Ava to suffer. He simply couldn’t be the only sucker to have to melt down.
Meanwhile, all Joe could do was live with his regrets, and bask in his misery. He was helpless against its agony. And although he still knew it would change nothing, he simply couldn’t fight it. A tear ran from his eyes. Joe knew it would be the first of many.
Tori had regained consciousness a short while ago. She had managed to pop a Sumatriptan, and then climb into bed. She lay there, one arm thrown across her forehead. She knew she had been asleep a good while, because there was now darkness outside the window on the north side of the room. But she had been grateful for the sleep. She felt better now. It would be two or three hours before she’d become mobile again, but at least the worst of things was behind her. She also still had every intention of meeting with Sara.
She lay there in deep thought for a few minutes. Tori had already thought long and hard about involving the police. Now, the idea came to her again. She wasn’t happy at all about the prospect of involving the police; however, she was starting to think it might be best. She had to get Robbie Riley whenever she could. He could skip town at anytime. Also, her migraines could incapacitate her at anytime. As a result, time was precious. Therefore, she couldn’t let something like going into certain parts of town at night stop her. At the same time, she wasn’t crazy about entering those parts of town, especially without Simone. So she figured it might would be best if she called Officer Gavitt first to set up a plan. Then, she would contact Sara.
That girl had been so desperate for the money, Tori deemed. She was also naive. Sara was working alone. Under those circumstances, Tori knew once she got Robbie, she didn’t have to pay Sara a cent, though she would never do that. She just hoped Sara’s information would work out.
Tori also realized she could end up losing money regardless of what happened in this case.
There was no guarantee Robbie would cooperate even if she got to him. It was a tough thought, but Tori decided not to dwell on it. She didn’t want to put any more pressure on her brain.
Her cell rang, causing Tori to jump. Realizing what it was, she just reached over to the table without bothering to look at the phone. She brought it to her ear.
“ . . . Hello,” she said groggily.
“Where’ve you been?” a panicked voice nearly screamed at her.
Tori frowned a little. She really didn’t need screaming voices right now.
“ . . . What?”
“I tried to call you. Over and over."
“Who is this?”
“Who the hell you think it is? There is something wrong with you, ain’t it lady?”
“Sara, is this you?”
“Yes.” Sara did scream.
“I . . . I’ve been meaning to call you. I’ve been a little sick.”
“A lotta good that does me. You messed it up. You messed up everything.”
“No. I’m still coming. Just give me a little time to get myself together.”
“What the hell for?”
“We still have a deal, right?”
“Yesterday we did. It’s useless now.”
Tori didn’t say anything for a couple seconds. She raised a little, and she turned to look at the radio clock that was also on the telephone table. The clock read: 6:05.
“Yesterday?” she asked. “What time is it?”
“Boy, you are a kook, ain’t you? It’s six in the morning. You wanna know what year it is too? Two-thousand eighteen.”
Tori was absolutely stupefied. She had no idea she had slept that long. It was a new day.
“ . . . Don’t panic,” Tori then said. “I can still meet with you.”
“It’s too damn late. He’s gone. And I don’t know where the hell to.”
Again, Tori knew only silence.
“They came and got him last night,” Sara continued. “Somebody’s been watching you. They got suspicious when they saw me. Riley’s outta here.”
Tori suddenly felt as if her heart had sank to her stomach. She also felt as though she’d been hit by a bulldozer. It couldn’t be. He hadn’t slipped away again. It just couldn’t be.
“He’s safe somewhere else,” Sara tortured. “And those goons bust in my place last night and threatened me. They said they’d kill me, if they ever saw me talking to you again.”
All Tori could do was drop her head in misery. Sara continued to talk, but Tori really didn’t hear her.
“Why’s everything always got to go wrong for me? What did I do? This was my chance. You messed it up.”
Senseless yacking was all Tori heard.
“Why couldn’t you be here? Now I’m back where I was. I ain’t got nothing to help me. I hope you don’t ever find him. You hear me? I hope you never get what you want from Robbie Riley.”
Tori just dropped the phone on the bed. She lay on her back again. This time she threw both arms across her forehead. She could definitely feel it; another headache was coming on.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Simone grabbed her purse, and also her small suitcase from the seat. She prepared to get out, as the cab pulled into the parking lot of the motel. She had stayed in the hospital an extra day because she had been experiencing dizziness. She felt fine now, though she was a little weak.
She hadn’t tried to contact Tori yesterday, because she had been feeling very bad. However, she didn’t realize Tori hadn’t tried to contact her either, until this morning. She knew that was unusual. She had become concerned, knowing all too well the viciousness that Tori’s migraines expounded on her. She had called the motel room, and indeed a groggy and weak Tori had answered the phone. Tori had explained everything to her. She had also told Simone to take a taxi from the hospital, since she was still ailing herself. They hadn’t been in New Port long, but Simone couldn’t help but start wondering, had she and Tori made a useless trip? Things seemed to definitely be working against them.
Under Simone’s instructions, the driver pulled up to the curb in front of she and Tori’s room. The red Charger was parked in the adjacent parking space. Simone got out, paid the driver, and got a receipt. Afterwards, she strolled on up to the door and let herself inside with the key.
As soon as she walked inside, a strong stench of vomit hit her. The room was dark. Tori lay in her bed looking quite drained.
“You did indeed have a rough night, didn’t you?” Simone asked.
“ . . . I’m sorry,” Tori replied. “I’ll clean everything up when I feel better. My head’s hurting, but I think I can be up in another three, four hours.”
“Well, it couldn’t be helped. I’ll clean it.”
“You don’t have to. Unless of course, you can’t stand the smell.”
“What are friends for? Besides, I can’t stand the smell.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll pay me back one day. I’ll see to it.”
Simone walked to the bed, carefully navigating the vomit, and threw her things on the bed.
“I’m gonna have to drive to the store first. I want to buy some soup. The doctor said it’ll make me feel better. I’ll get some for you too.”
“Thanks. The keys are in my purse.”
Simon
e noticed the purse was on the floor next to Tori’s bed.
“Simone,” Tori then said somberly, “I really am so sorry about you getting hurt. And for the millionth time, thanks for coming here with me.”
“It’s my job. I’m your partner, remember?”
“But it’s gotten so dangerous. And after what happened yesterday, I’m thinking that not only is that club against us, but so is fate.”
“Funny. I’ve been thinking that same thing.”
She and Tori looked at each other. There was gloom on both their faces. They just hoped they weren’t fighting a losing battle here.
Robbie had been moved to the Graviston Arms. It was a high-rise apartment near the water. It was also another flea bag in which to live. The apartment was again a one-room affair, only it was slightly smaller.
Robbie sat in a chair that was beside the bed. He had his feet propped up on it. His face was thick with whiskers; he hadn’t shaved in days. He scratched his head. His hair was all mussed; he hadn’t combed it in days. He looked a mess, and he didn’t care.
There were several cigarette butts on the floor. There were also a couple of empty beer cans. There were two six-packs of beer on the floor. He had just started puffing on a brand new cigarette. He had a nearly full pack stuffed in his shirt pocket. He also drank from a beer occasionally.
Roaches crawled on Robbie’s bed. A mouse occasionally ran across the floor. Again, Robbie didn’t care. He didn’t care about this horrible room. He didn’t care that the police had flashed his photo on local TV newscasts again this morning. He didn’t care that he was a fugitive wanted by both the police and two private detectives. He didn’t care about anything anymore – except the guilt.
Joe Riley was dead. Robbie had gotten the news through his club brethren, who had been contacted by buddies back in Del Toray. Joe had hung himself in his jail cell. He had used his sheets. He had been depressed; many prisoners were. But he hadn’t acted suicidal, therefore, he hadn’t been on suicide watch.
But Joe was dead. And he had died, knowing his baby brother had betrayed him greatly. That baby brother had been getting eaten alive with guilt, ever since he had gotten the news. He didn’t know if he would ever recover. He didn’t know if he wanted to recover. Maybe he just wanted to die right now. Maybe that would be best for him, he seriously considered. Maybe that would be best for the world. He had taken himself to a miserable state of life.
He was so sorry; he wanted to tell Joe that. He wanted to ask for his forgiveness. He wanted another chance. He wanted to tell Joe how much he loved him. He had done an absolutely horrific job of showing it at the end, but he really had loved his big brother. Only now, his brother would never know it. And his brother’s final memory of him had been one, of which he had believed, was hatred.
“But it won’t hatred, Joe,” he said. “Honest to God, I didn’t hate you.”
Too late now, was all his tortured mind could consider. And there was only one way he could deal with it. He would drink. And drink. And drink. And smoke . . . And most of all, he would be miserable.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The beat-up old Honda Accord was parked in Town Square shopping center, which was across the street from one of New Port’s many Food Lion grocery stores. Peachy sat on the passenger’s side of the car. Dove was behind the wheel. He wasn’t dressed in his female attire today.
“Damn, man,” Peachy screeched. “Can’t you cut that crap out? It stinks in here.”
“Let down the window.”
“It’s too chilly.”
“Well then live with it. I got a upset stomach.”
“You done run to the bathroom twice. Ain’t that cleared you out any?”
“Not enough, I guess.”
“Damn. When you gas, you really gas.”
“Don’t blame me. Blame that witch who fired my ass.”
“What’s that got to do with your stomach?”
“When I get stressed out, my stomach acts up. Losing your job can kind of stress you out, wouldn’t you say?”
“Well I wish you’d stress a little less. A lot less.”
“Just shut up. What I ought to do is go back to the plant and beat the hell out of her.”
“Then you’d just go to jail.”
“It’d be worth it. I had no business working for a damn woman in the first place.”
“You shoulda expected to be fired. You talked back to her. You missed a lotta time. You didn‘t respect her. You –”
“She’s a woman. I ain’t supposed to respect no woman.”
“I know what our philosophy is, Dove. But come on, if you got a woman boss, you gotta make some exceptions.”
“Forget that. I just want to get the whore alone, so I can strangle her.”
“Don’t even think that . . . You know,” Peachy turned solemn, bowing his head somewhat. “I think the club’s starting to get too violent. Benny ought to watch that. That man Duke ran over last month to keep from testifying; he almost died.”
“He deserved it. Anybody tries to bring us down deserves what he gets.”
“I don’t know, man. This violence stuff is getting out of hand.”
“Don’t go gettin’ soft on us, Peachy. Sometimes violence is necessary for drug dealing. And sometimes too for our enemy – women.”
Peachy didn’t respond. He just looked away from Dove’s intense expression. He had serious doubts.
“There she goes,” Dove continued. “She just came out.”
Peachy looked over to the Food Lion.
“That’s the black one, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, doa-doa. That’s the one we followed. You been sleepin’ or somethin’?”
“I thought it was the white one.”
“Well, she is one of the bright ones. From a distance, sometimes, you can get those kind confused with us.”
“Looks like she just did some shopping. She ain’t up to nothing.”
“Maybe not. But I might be.”
Peachy turned his head quickly to look at him.
“What’s that mean?” he said with alarm.
“Maybe I’ll take out my anger on this witch, since I can’t get the one who fired me.”
“Benny said just to keep an eye on them. We ain’t supposed to hurt nobody.”
Dove didn’t answer. He just started the car.
“You hear me, Dove? We ain’t supposed to start no trouble, now.”
“Yeah-Yeah,” Dove mumbled. “Damn sluts . . . make me so mad . . . Firing me, damn it.”
Peachy didn’t like the way Dove looked. He could have a ferocious temper on him. He could be extremely dangerous when he wanted.
Peachy worriedly looked back to the black woman who entered the parking lot of Food Lion. He hoped this situation would remain a civil one.
The Food Lion was not very far from the motel. Simone had departed the store carrying a small bag of groceries. She walked into the parking lot, where the Sonata was quite close, parked next to a handicap park. Things were not too crowded right now.
As she arrived at the car, she noticed a folded piece of paper under the windshield wiper on the driver’s side. Simone hoped it was only an advertisement from someone. She didn’t see what she had done wrong to deserve a ticket.
Cradling her bag in her right arm, she used her left hand to grab up the paper. She unfolded it. She was instantly nearly knocked off her feet.
“Address of Robbie Riley, 1100 Butler Road, Graviston Arms, Room 3A. Get there fast. He won’t be there long.”
Those were the words written on the paper. Simone didn’t know quite what to make of the note. What was going on? Who had dropped this gift on her seemingly from the sky? For all she knew, it could have been a trick. But for the time being, she had to get back to the motel and Tori.
She stuffed the note in her pocket. She ripped the car keys out of her jacket breast pocket. She let herself inside the car, put the down the groceries, and ecstatically pulled the door closed. Exci
tedly, she drove off.
Peachy was on pins and needles, as he nervously sat next to the seriously fast-driving Dove. They were on a decent stretch of road that led back to the downtown of New Port; it was in a mostly rural area. There were mainly woods on both sides of the two-lane highway. There was an occasional side road which led back to some distant farmhouses, which Peachy knew were also famous for hiding state troopers. At this time of day, not a lot of cars traveled the road, and sometimes, drivers took the emptiness of the road as an invitation to speed. Sometimes, they got burned. Peachy feared that Dove was headed in that direction.
However, Dove didn’t look bothered by that possibility currently. He was speeding, but Peachy could tell, Dove didn’t even notice it. In fact, he had a rather crazed look on his face. It was that look which scared Peachy more and more by the second. He watched intensely, as Dove’s eyes zeroed in more and more on the only other car on the road. The red Sonata was only a few yards in front of them, and Dove was taking the Accord closer and closer.
“What you gonna do?” Peachy asked.
Dove wouldn’t respond. His attention remained solidly focused on the car ahead.
“Answer me, man. You scaring me . . . Slow down.”
“Shut up!” Dove snapped. “Robbie’s one of our brothers. We gotta protect him.”
“If you hurt that woman, you gone be in hot water with Benny.”
“He’ll get over it.”
“The hell he will. And I’ll be in trouble too, for not stopping you.”
“Screw it. I want the bitch.”
“Robbie ain’t worth it, man. There’s no telling what Benny’ll do to us.”
Again, Dove wouldn’t answer.
“Plus,” Peachy said frantically, “what if a trooper pops up or something?”
It didn’t matter to Dove. Peachy could see that the man was out of control. He was a nut; there was no telling what he might do. Peachy just wished he could somehow get out of that car. But that was impossible now.
Dove stepped down on the gas pedal. He quickly closed the few yards on the Sonata, and he pulled up right beside it, partially going over the yellow line and into the other lane. Peachy saw the woman look over at them, startled.
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