Dead On

by Michael Paulson

  Chapter 25

  After Bascomb left, Tanya and I made a quick exit.

  It was not until we were nearing her flat that she got up enough courage to ask what Bascomb and I had argued over. I explained it was a simple matter of creative differences. She did not laugh.

  "Delaney killed your husband," I said.

  She brought her knees up and hugged them as if trying to warm her soul. "I could have gone the rest of my days without hearing that."

  "Why didn't you tell me up front?"

  She was silent for a while before telling me she did not think about him anymore.

  I did not believe her, but did not press the issue.

  As we parked in the lot behind the diner I said, "If I'm going to finish what I've started, I need to run a game on Salvatore Portello. And to make that work, I'm going to need some help."

  Tanya shook her head. "If you mean me, no thanks."

  "You want to nail Delaney, don't you?"

  She gave me a sidelong sneer. "Not if it'll get me killed. I loved Davey. But nothing's going to bring him back."

  "You didn't always feel that way."

  "Who says?"

  "Me. You set your sights on Delaney because you wanted something bad enough to keep from puking while he pawed you! And that, sweet thing, was revenge."

  Her eyes focused coldly on me as she bit her words, "What of it? I had a right, didn't I?"

  I shook my head. "What was Lydia's idea? You'd get him cornered in his own dirt and she'd show up to blow his brains out?"

  Tanya grabbed the door but I reached out and gripped her left arm. "Don't touch me."

  "Don't deny you still want Delaney dead, Tanya."

  She settled back in the seat, her face saddened by painful memories. "If I thought I could get away with it, I'd kill him tonight—like I've killed him in my dreams for a thousand nights."

  "Help me and I guarantee he won't come out of this alive."

  She stared at me for nearly a full minute. "You'd kill him for me?"

  "I won't have to. The Portellos will see to that—they may have already done so. But if the thought of me killing the ugly bastard improves my chances for long tawdry nights with you, let it stay. What was your husband like?"

  "Davey was one of those people who looked for shortcuts. He always had big plans, always wanting to give me things I didn't need, or care about. I told him as much. But it didn't matter. Lydia laid a chunk of change on Davey when we got married. That, should've set us up comfortable—not high fliers but nice just the same. I even had a little house picked out—until Delaney came into the picture."

  "Delaney needed financing and your husband thought he could turn a profit?"

  She nodded. "For what, I was never told. Something big, according to Davey. Something that would pay us back a thousand-fold. But, somewhere along the line the arrangement changed. Delaney cut Davey out the deal—cut him out cold. My husband figured Delaney should've made good. Delaney saw it another way."

  "So your husband threatened to go to Bascomb, which resulted in Davey Thornton becoming a McAllen statistic."

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she nodded. "Lydia wanted to kill Delaney straight off—she actually tried to run him down. I decided to get cozy with him until I caught Delaney with his hands in somebody else's pockets, or worse. Then we'd get justice for Davey through the courts." Her voice broke off and started again sounding like she had swallowed a bucket of tears. "I thought I'd die the first time Delaney groped me. But, I gritted my teeth and saw it through. I kept telling myself that one of these times I'd get the goods on him. One of these times I'd make him pay for Davey—and all of it."

  "But the incident over the plastic glasses blew it?"

  She bowed her blond head under the weight of failure. "I didn't dare continue the charade. Moreover, I didn't know how to shut down whatever he might have going. I tried following Delaney, but that got me nothing but high gasoline bills and sore feet. He was too smart. Whatever he needed doing, he got somebody else to do the dirty end. After a while, I gave up. Had I known what those damn, ugly glass held." Her gaze turned inward, reviewing the past. Then she nodded, almost imperceptibly. "What do you want me to do?"

  "Salvator doesn't believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy or disappearing goods. He would've put hard questions to our unfriendly cop. He would've put them in a hard way. If Delaney survived, it was because he convinced Sal that he—Delaney—was the only way the cocaine would be returned. On that premise, Sal would've given Delaney a deadline to produce the stuff and turned him loose. You want Delaney. I want the Portellos. This is our one chance to succeed."

  "But if Delaney's alive he'll be followed by those creeps."

  "So much the better."

  "Why do I have the feeling you want me to play footsie with those creeps?"

  "I'd do it myself, but my best dress is at the cleaners."

  She let out a snort of bitter laughter that jangled her bracelets. "The things I do for love."

  "For me, or Davey?"

  "What makes you think Delaney hasn't convinced those goons that you have their goods?"

  "I'm sure he's tried. The problem is, Salvatore knows I'm not the type to haul off several million in cocaine with the intent to profit by it."

  "So the creeps will be watching Delaney while I do what?"

  "Reintroduce yourself to Dominic. Remind him of that party at Eli's. He'll link you to Delaney and run to Sal."

  Her front teeth smeared with red lipstick as she bit her lip. "Thanks. They'll think I'm the one hiding the stuff for Delaney."

  "That's when you offer to help find the stuff for a small cut to get you clear of Delaney, for good." I handed her the napkin etched with Delaney's cell-phone number. "Call Delaney as soon as you can. If he answers, tell him you've run into me and you know I've got the cocaine. Say if he's willing to cut you in on the action you'll find out where it is."

  "And if he isn't?"

  "He's alone on a short lead with a world of problems pounding his ass. You'll sound like his savior. Just don't make too hard a deal with him. I want him to think you're the biggest bargain he's run across."

  She lifted her shoulders only to let them slump. "Oh, God. And then what?"

  "Once you tell Delaney the cocaine's at Bascomb's ranch, he'll contact Sal and offer to make an exchange. Cash for the coke. I need to be at whatever exchange-point those guys cook up. That's why it's essential that you suggest the swap location to Dominic. Someplace where Delaney will figure he's got the upper hand, and where Dominic won't worry about going."

  She narrowed her eyes and thought for a moment. "There's an old gravel pit. It's just a deep hole full of water surrounded by mountains of sand and rock. Delaney talked about it as a place he's used in the past—for payoffs. He might go for that."

  "If Delaney doesn't, you'll have to let me know where."

  "Where will you be while I'm risking my neck—and parts you hold dear?"

  "Close. Come on. I'll take you to the Ventura. I want you to take a suite there. And don't be afraid to use room service."

  "And, who's paying?"

  "It's the least I can do. Oh, don't be alarmed if the Portello clan has a very bad day in the near future."

  She tapped my wrist with one manicured finger. "And, if Dominic gets romantic notions?"

  "You're hiding out from Delaney, remember? All you want is a few bucks to set you up somewhere else. He'll keep his distance—if you insist upon it. With the cocaine at stake Dominic won't dare risk having anything go wrong. Salvatore is an unforgiving brother."

  "And how am I to do this insisting? From a coffin, for instance? They're not about to go somewhere I've suggested without taking me along. And if they do what I think they're going to do to Delaney, I'm not likely to make it back to the hotel—alive."

  I nodded. "Which is one of the reasons why I have to be there. You can still back out. But if you carry it off,
I'll make it worth your while."

  "Are we talking love or money?"

  "Money. Six, possibly seven figures."

  "My mother always said I had shit for brains."