by Sam Sisavath
Oh, hell, she thought, when the man pulled back from the binoculars and said something. The tall one turned around, and he stared in her direction for the second time. He pulled something out from behind his back, and she learned what that “something” was when the man pointed it at her at the same time a bright beam of LED light hit her in the face.
She flinched at the sudden stab of brightness, even as Apollo let out a loud bark in response.
There goes the element of surprise, she thought, fighting through the pain until she could see again.
Her vision returned just in time to catch the tall man dropping the flashlight and brushing back his blazer, the moonlight glinting off the steel barrel of his Uzi’s attached suppressor.
“Run!” she shouted.
Apollo was a blur of movement next to her, vanishing from her side even before she had completely spun around and flung herself away from the tree line. She was still in mid-air when the trunk she’d been sitting next to exploded and showered her in bark. The woods began emitting a strong burning smell as 9MM rounds slashed through the darkness, chopping into anything and everything.
She crawled forward on her hands and knees, desperate to get as far away from the tree line as possible, the gun still clutched in one hand. She didn’t get up until the man had stopped shooting and branches stopped falling, and only then did she scrambled to her knees, then hopped up to her feet, and took off running.
Apollo was right beside her, easily keeping pace.
“Goddammit, why did you do that?” someone shouted behind her. She would recognize the voice anywhere. Walter. “We had a fucking deal!”
She ran on, snapping twigs and swiping at branches that seemed to be dropping out of the sky for the express purpose of hindering her escape.
Even as her legs pumped and her breath crashed against her chest, Walter’s words echoed inside her head:
“We had a fucking deal!”
She kept running, her thoughts jumbled with the last five months as she struggled to understand what was happening, how this Walter was even the same one in the almost-plain suit who nervously asked her out that first time. She remembered taking the initiative and kissing him on their second date after being disappointed that he hadn’t already done it on the first one two days earlier.
Who was the real Walter? Was it the timid single father she had reluctantly allowed to enter her life after a year and a half of being alone, or was it the one back at the house, who had shot Jack down like a dog?
Goddamn you, Walter. Who are you?
Who are you?
Chapter 18
“WE HAD A deal!” Walter shouted, rushing over to where Monroe was standing. “You promised I’d get to talk to her first, goddammit!”
If Monroe was the least bit intimidated, the man didn’t show it. He calmly inserted a new magazine from his back pocket into the Uzi, then tossed the spent one. “I said I’d try. Big difference.”
“Not to me, it’s not.”
Walter clenched his teeth in frustration, but he didn’t forget where he was, or who (Lucy) was standing behind him right now. He said in a low voice that only Monroe could hear, “Don’t test me. You pull another stunt like that, and we’re done. You hear me? We’re done, and you can kiss all those millions good-bye and go back to working for table scraps from people like Gorman and Smith. Have I made myself clear?”
Monroe stared back at him, and Walter wondered how many ways this man, this professional killer, could end his life right now. Sure, he still had Jack’s gun in his back waistband—hidden, so Lucy wouldn’t see it—but what were the chances he could get it out to defend himself if Monroe should decide, right here and now, that the money wasn’t worth the trouble of putting up with him?
But he didn’t have to worry about that, because Monroe raised an amused eyebrow and took a step back, a clear signal that money was, after all, worth the trouble. “Whatever you say, Walt. You’re the boss…Boss.”
“That’s what I thought,” Walter said, and turned around quickly, so Monroe couldn’t see the relief on his face.
“Dad, what’s going on?” Lucy asked. She was watching him closely, the confusion and uncertainty on her face obvious under the bright lights. “Who was he shooting at?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Walter said, walking back to her. “It might have been the men from the house, the ones that held us at gunpoint.” He touched his ear over the bandage. “The same ones that did this to me.”
“Allie went back there. She went back to get you.”
“I know, and we’re going to find her. My friends and I.”
He threw a quick glance back at Monroe, who had walked over to the tree line, the Uzi hanging at his side. If Allie was still in there, somewhere, and armed, it wouldn’t have taken very much for her to pick him off. The Allie he knew couldn’t have done something like that, but this Allie, who knew about suppressors and had gone back for him even after being chased out here by Jerry…
I guess I didn’t really know her after all.
The question was: How much of the woman he thought he knew actually existed? She couldn’t have hidden everything from him. They were friends before they dated, then became lovers.
The irony was, he was worried about her reaction to all of this when he eventually got around to revealing the truth to her. There were a couple of times when he’d found the perfect spot to tell her about tonight’s plans. But he hadn’t, because he didn’t think she could go through with it if she knew, because he didn’t think she was “that kind of a girl.”
He almost laughed thinking about it now, but he didn’t, because Lucy was still watching him intently.
“Is she okay?” Lucy asked. “I’m really worried about her.”
“I don’t know, and I’m worried, too,” Walter said. He put his hands on her thin shoulders and squeezed. “When my friends came to help me, she hadn’t shown up yet. I think she might have gotten lost in the woods. It’s pretty dark, and she’s never been here before.”
Lucy nodded, and he knew he’d gotten through to her. Or, at least, enough that she believed him. “I think we got lost a couple of times before we found this place.”
“See? I’m sure that’s all that happened to her.”
Lucy glanced back at the house. “There’s someone in there, Dad. On the second floor. Allie shot him when he came after us.”
“Is he still alive?”
She nodded. “We left him tied up in the master bedroom.”
“Okay, baby, that’s good to know.” He looked back at Monroe and called, “We have a problem.”
“Another one?” Monroe said, looking over.
“There’s someone tied up in the second-floor master bedroom. Can you go check on him, make sure he’s okay until the cops show up?”
Monroe smiled knowingly. “I’ll take care of it. Make sure he’s still around to give the police his statement.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
Monroe headed back to the SUV, where Barnes was still leaning over the hood. The two of them began making plans in a low voice that Walter couldn’t hear, so he was certain Lucy couldn’t, either.
“You called the cops?” Lucy asked.
“I did,” Walter nodded. “But not the locals. I don’t know if we can trust them. Thankfully, I have some friends with the state troopers. They’re coming over now, but it’s going to take a while. Maybe another couple of hours.”
“Thank God. We didn’t have our phones, and the house doesn’t have a landline.”
“Just like ours, huh?”
Lucy managed a smile. “Allie says no one has landlines anymore.”
“Well, not the smart ones, anyway.” He forced a smile, then gave her shoulders another squeeze before adding, “Okay, sweetheart. I’m going to leave you here with Barnes. He’ll watch over you until I come back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To go look for Allie, in the woods. I can’t leave
her out there by herself.”
“In case there are more of those guys running around?”
“Exactly.”
“What happened to the one back at the house?”
He sighed regretfully. “My friends had to kill him. Unfortunately, the guy didn’t give them a choice.”
Lucy nodded. “I understand.”
“I know you do, because you’re smart. You take after your old man.”
“You’re not that old.”
He laughed for real this time. “Old enough,” he said, and pulled her to him in a hug, never wanting to let go. After all, he had done all of this for her, for their future. Allie was supposed to be a part of that future.
Allie…
*
“WHAT IF YOU can’t convince her?” Monroe asked.
Walter wished the man would shut up. He was already having a difficult enough time trying to come up with something convincing to say to Allie when they finally caught up to her; he didn’t need Monroe’s useless chatter clogging up his head.
“I don’t know,” Walter said.
“Fair warning: If she pulls on me, I’ll have to put her down.”
“Just…give me a chance to talk to her first.”
Monroe didn’t reply.
“Did you hear me?” Walter said, even though he knew Monroe could hear him. There was barely four feet between them at the moment.
“Yeah, sure,” Monroe said.
The taller man looked absurd moving through the darkened woods in his tailored black suit and white dress shirt and black tie. The shoes he was wearing weren’t exactly made for the surroundings, either. But none of that mattered except for the Uzi in his hands.
Walter had kept his handgun hidden behind his back. The thought of Allie seeing him coming with a gun in his hand was horrifying. Despite all the craziness of tonight, he still clung to hope that they could repair things, even if deep down he was already worried the distrust might be too great to mend.
“She’s gorgeous,” he remembered Dan telling him during lunch one day. “Single, too.”
“How do you know?” he had asked.
“Walter, the woman’s been working for me for months now. No social life to speak of. Comes in early, leaves late. Answers my texts and phone calls every time, regardless of the hour.” Dan had winked knowingly. “Trust me; she’s single and ready to mingle. That’s your cue, buddy. You ready to mingle, or what? Time to get back on that horse.”
God, he’d been nervous that day, so much so that he’d had to take a sip of Dan’s brandy in his office before coming out and dropping the question. He’d always wondered if she could smell the liquor on his lips from that day, but she had never said anything about it then, or since.
And now…
Was it too late? Was it over? Was he trying to save a relationship that was built on lies—hers, his, theirs?
“She didn’t know anything?” Monroe asked, slapping at a low-hanging branch.
Walter shook his head. “No one knew. That was the point.”
It was a lie, because one other person knew. Walter could never have done all of this by himself, not in a million years. He didn’t have the resources or know the right (bad) people. But Monroe didn’t need to know any of that. It was the same reason Walter hadn’t told him that while he had forty million coming, the other forty million was going to someone else.
“Not a bad plan,” Monroe said. “Brilliant, even.”
“Not quite, as it turned out.”
“Still, if that dog hadn’t gone Rambo on one of the hired hands and the girls escaped as a result, you’d be free and clear.” He grinned. “Well, until I eventually showed up, anyway.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask. How did Gorman and Smith know? You were at the house within hours.”
Monroe shrugged. “I don’t have all the inside baseball, not my department, but I guess you weren’t being nearly as stealthy as you thought you were, even before tonight. They’ve had us on standby for the last month. To be honest with you, I didn’t think we’d ever get the call. As luck would have it, when it finally did come we were at a motel just an hour down the interstate from here.”
“Yeah, lucky.” He sighed, then, unable to hide his disappointment, “I guess they know it was me. No going back now.”
“I’d say your guess is dead-on, Walt ol’ pal.”
Walter couldn’t help it, and sighed out loud. He’d always known it was risky, but the alternative was unacceptable, and the rewards just too great to pass up. And God, he was so confident that he could pull it off. He’d never been more confident of anything in his life.
He touched his ear through the bandage again. It still tingled more than it hurt, but maybe he was just telling himself that in order to cope with the pain. He was going to have to see a plastic surgeon after tonight, which would mean going back to the house and finding that piece of his ear Jack had cut off. Dammit, why hadn’t he taken the time to find it before he left with Monroe? The good news was, it would probably still be there—wherever the hell Jack had put it. Unless, of course, some animal had wandered into the house and absconded with it. The thought made him shiver unwittingly.
“You okay there?” Monroe asked, glancing over.
“Fine.”
“Don’t worry; we’ll find her. But my question still stands: What happens if you can’t convince her?”
He didn’t answer, because he didn’t want to.
What if I can’t convince her?
I don’t know. I don’t know…
He’d have to be really convincing, that much was a given. The problem was, he’d never been particularly good at that, especially when women were involved. But once she learned he was doing all of this for Lucy, for her, for the three of them, she’d understand. She had to under—
A loud bark and something white flashed in the corner of his eye, and Walter spun around just in time to see Apollo—his coat of fur a stark contrast against the unyielding blackness of the woods—smashing into Monroe’s chest. Man and beast slammed into the ground, even as Monroe squeezed the Uzi’s trigger and bullets tore apart branches and leaves above—then around—him.
Walter ducked as a bullet nearly took his head off. He was reaching behind his back for Jack’s handgun when he heard crunching footsteps seconds before the very cold barrel of a gun jammed into the back of his neck.
“Don’t you fucking move, Walter,” a painfully familiar voice, dripping with anger, said from behind him.
Chapter 19
WALTER STARED, MOUTH slightly agape, as Apollo clamped down on the tall man’s right arm—the same one that had been holding the Uzi—and began jerking his head left and right as if the appendage were his own personal chew toy. The man screamed and thrashed, trying in vain to push the dog off. He had let go of the submachine gun, probably because holding onto it wasn’t important anymore with a full set of sharp teeth rending at his flesh. She wanted to say the sight of Apollo working on the man was terrifying, but the truth was, after the long night she’d had, Allie couldn’t muster the energy to give a shit.
Walter was another matter. He might have gasped “Oh Jesus” just before he doubled over and threw up.
Allie stepped back. Somehow, the sight of Walter vomiting was almost reassuring, a sign that maybe the Walter she thought she knew wasn’t entirely a fabrication after all.
“Apollo!” she shouted.
The dog instantly let go of the man’s arm, but he didn’t go very far. He began circling his prey and baring his teeth, every single sharp fang covered in blood. The white fur under his chin was splashed with a new coat of fresh red, as were parts of his shoulders, neck, and forearms. He looked like a hunter wearing war paint, and the way he was growling at the tall man convinced her Apollo recognized the face of the person who had tried to shoot him not all that long ago.
“If I give him the word, he’ll finish you off, and neither one of us will lose any sleep over it,” Allie said to the man.
He may or may not have heard her as he struggled to his knees, cradling his right hand in his lap. There was an odd look on his face, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened and that all this might have just been a bad dream. But all he had to do was look at Apollo, still circling him, to know he was very much awake.
“Go ahead,” Allie said, when she saw the man’s eyes settle on his fallen Uzi, less than four feet away.
The man sighed and sat back down on his butt. He shrugged off his suit jacket and began wrapping it around his bleeding arm, grimacing with every contact against the ghastly wound. He was clearly in tremendous pain and doing a poor job of hiding it. Maybe it was the adrenaline, she thought, allowing him to treat his wound without screaming out in agony.
“You have a name?” she asked him.
He gritted his teeth as he pulled the jacket tight, then said, “Monroe.”
“Where’s the other one, Monroe?”
“He left.”
“Let’s try this again,” she said, and fired at the ground barely an inch from his right leg.
He flinched and tried to pull the leg back, but Apollo, now behind him, growled even louder. Monroe froze.
“Now,” she said, “where’s the other one?”
“Back at the house with the girl,” Monroe said.
“Walter, is he lying?”
Walter shook his head and tried to turn to look back at her without moving too much, maybe for fear she would shoot him. She wasn’t sure if she could if he suddenly turned completely around, but fortunately he didn’t make her find out.
“He’s back there with Lucy,” Walter said.
“Doing what?” she asked.
“Waiting.”
“For?”
“Us to come back.”
“Who is ‘us,’ Walter?”
“You and me…”
“What about him?” she asked, nodding at Monroe, even though Walter couldn’t see the movement of her head because, of course, she was standing behind him.