by Shay Savage
“What the fuck is that?”
“That’s Maisy.”
I peer into the little bag to see a tiny black and white face staring back at me.
“Are you telling me that’s a dog?”
“Of course she’s a dog!” Alina opens the bag a little more and lifts out the tiny ball of fluff. “She’s a Japanese Chin.”
“That’s an Asian body part,” I say, “not a dog.”
“Ha ha.”
I step back from the bag and glare down at the little thing. She looks up at me, and her tiny tongue hangs out of the side of her mouth as she pants. She has buggy eyes, a squished up nose, and she can’t weigh more than eight pounds.
This is not at all what I had envisioned. I probably should have asked her what kind of dog she had just to keep my shock at bay. I’ve never seen a dog like this before, and with her coloring, she looks more like a fluffy skunk than anything canine.
“Are you sure the breeder didn’t lie to you? I think you got a de-scented skunk.”
“She is not a skunk!”
“She looks like one!”
“She certainly does not! Her father was a show dog, and she looks just like him!” Alina places the thing on the floor, and the fluffball looks around the room for a moment, sniffing the air.
I crouch in front of Maisy and hold my hand out to her. She comes over immediately, sniffs me, and licks my fingers. I pet her on her back, and she rubs her head against my leg as she watches me intently.
“I think she likes you,” Alina says.
“You’re sure she’s not a big rat?”
“Stop that! What were you expecting? A German Shepherd?”
I don’t reply. Instead, I go over to the bag with a pet store logo on it, sitting on the kitchen counter. I pull out the big rawhide bone I’d bought for the dog. It’s about half Maisy’s size.
“What do you think?”
Alina covers her mouth with her hand, and her eyes sparkle.
“Did you get that for her?”
“I got that for a dog. I’m still trying to figure out what she is.”
“What kind of dog did you have before?”
“A Great Pyrenees. He was about a hundred and thirty pounds.”
“Oh, wow! That’s more like a small pony!”
I bring the giant bone over to Maisy and put it down beside her. She sniffs and licks at it a bit but doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. I suppose it’s like giving a person half a cow and waiting for them to put some steak sauce on it and chow down. She paws at it a bit, but can’t move it at all. Giving up, she rolls over on her back and noses my foot. I rub her belly, and her tail wags furiously. Pulling back my hand, I stand up, and Maisy stands with me.
“It’s all right, Maisy,” Alina says. “You can go check things out.”
Maisy looks up at Alina before walking over to the couch to give it a sniff. She checks out the leg of the coffee table briefly and then comes back to sit by my foot. She barely comes halfway up my calf.
As Alina puts the contents of her backpack in her room, Maisy follows me everywhere I go—the kitchen, the bedroom, even the bathroom. When I try to shut the door, she whines until I let her in. She comes right up to me while I shave and sits her butt down on the toe of my boot.
“You’re a pesky thing, aren’t you?”
She lolls her tongue and stares at me with those bug-eyes.
When I’m done, she follows me back to the living room. Alina puts a little dog bed over by the window, but Maisy isn’t interested. She seems to like sitting on my foot.
“Does she always sit on people’s feet?”
“Honestly, I’ve never seen her do that before.” Alina laughs. “I let her sit in my lap sometimes, but she knows she’s not allowed on furniture, so she won’t fuzz up the couch or anything like that. She usually sits in her bed.”
I look down at the pup and shake my head.
“Not what you were expecting,” Alina says.
“No,” I reply, “not at all.”
“Is it still okay?”
I look at Alina and see the worry in her eyes. I reach over and cup the back of her neck, pulling her close to brush my lips against hers.
“It’s fine. I’ll get used to it. Will she at least play fetch?”
“I have no idea,” Alina says. “I’ve never tried. She does tricks though.”
She calls to Maisy, and the dog turns around in a little circle. She speaks on command, shakes hands, begs, and rolls over.
“Not bad.” I smile and rub Maisy’s head. If she can do all that, she ought to be able to learn to play fetch. I’ll have to come up with something other than the tennis balls I used with Odin. I don’t think they’ll fit in her mouth.
“Are you ready for lunch?” Alina asks.
“I need to go pick up a friend from the airport,” I tell her. “You and…and the little fuzzball get settled in. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
I fight Chicago weekend traffic over to O’Hare and pull up to the arrivals area where Eddie-boy is waiting for me, bags in hand.
“Good to see you alive, LT,” he says with a smile.
“Haven’t found that bullet with my name on it yet.” I grab one of his bags and load it into the back of the Camaro.
“Don’t even joke about it.” He eyes the Camaro’s rear bumper. “Uh…LT?”
“Don’t even joke about it.” Eddie-boy laughs at the repetition while he climbs in the passenger side as one of the airport employees yells at me to get out of the taxi lane.
“I’m glad you accepted my invitation. Things are a little crazy around here, and I need people I can trust.”
“I always got your six, LT.”
I bring Eddie-boy up to speed on everything that’s been going on, and he listens intently. He asks a lot of questions about Jonathan, and he taps into his phone as I tell him everything I know.
“Seems like a good guy,” Eddie-boy says.
“I’ve known him a long time. I trust him implicitly.”
“Always good to have one of those around. You know he’s got a record, right?”
“Yeah, from when he was young.” I’m constantly amazed by how much Eddie-boy and Jonathan can find out about someone in such a short period of time. I think they’ll get along great. I give him the names of the guys Paulie hired, and he checks them out as well.
“These two have to go,” he says, indicating the names with a tap of the phone’s screen.
“Jonathan agrees.”
“Good.”
“I got you a place in my old apartment building,” I say. “I think you’ll like it.”
“Is this all a part of the new employee plan?”
“Something like that. It’s only a short walk from my place and will be easy for us to meet there until I find a new office building. I’ve got a complete list of all the higher-up guys in the organization for you there. Jonathan’s gone through them all recently.”
“Sounds like the problem people are already out of the picture.”
“They are.”
“Locating this Taylor guy is proving difficult.”
“We’ve searched everywhere.” I say as I pull onto the highway. “He’s good, that’s for sure.”
“He was special ops.”
“No shit?”
“He was army but worked with Landon Stark when he was with the navy. Honorable discharge.”
“What did he do there?”
“Classified.”
“Please.” I don’t hide the sarcasm as I glance over to him with a raised brow. Eddie-boy had access to everything.
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah.”
“He was part of the team that pulled you out of Afghanistan.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. Working in the background, but he was part of it.”
“Have you met him?”
“Not as far as I know. Doesn’t seem familiar, and I couldn’t find any record wher
e we were in the same place at the same time.”
“Small world.”
“It does mean he shouldn’t be underestimated.”
“Hard to make any kind of estimation when I can’t find the guy.”
“No argument there, LT.”
We meet Jonathan in the back room of Quay, a little restaurant-bar I discovered when I was working with the Russians. It’s very private, and the staff has already figured out not to mess with me.
After the introductions, we get down to business.
“Any word about Taylor?” I ask Jonathan.
“None,” he replies. He lights a cigarette as the bartender wrinkles her nose but doesn’t say anything. He leans forward and speaks softly. “Would’ve thought with Beni’s demise, he might have come out of the woodwork, but there’s nothing.”
“You sure Paulie and Cody were in on it?” Eddie-boy asks.
“Cody, yes,” I say. “I just didn’t like Paulie.”
“Remind me never to forget your birthday, boss.” Jonathan laughs. He turns to Eddie-boy. “I caught Cody fucking around with the server for the security system. He said he was just doing some maintenance, but when I checked it, it was clear he was trying to reactivate some of the shit I’d shut down.”
“The stuff Beni was using to divert your movements?” Eddie-boy asks.
“Yeah—that shit.”
“Cody has a second apartment,” Eddie-boy says as he looks up from his phone. “Not in his name, but the deposit came from a cashier’s check out of his bank account. Did you know that?”
“No,” I say. “Where?”
“South Forty-third Street. I’m not all that familiar with Chicago though.”
“Junko’s and Omarie’s territory.” Jonathan looks at me, and I nod.
“We need to check it out.”
“Who are they?” Eddie-boy asks.
“South Side gangs,” I tell him. “Junko took over after his cousin had a little mishap.”
Jonathan snickers.
“He’s supposed to be playing nice, but they took part of one of our gun shipments. Some of them were never recovered.”
“They killed one of our people, too,” Jonathan says. “A woman. Trying to piss off Rinaldo.”
“Sounds like he’s not playing so nice after all.”
“Jonathan—check out that apartment,” I tell him. “Have one of the new security guys stake it out and watch for anyone associated with Junko and Omarie.”
“On it, boss.”
“Watch for any additional hacks into your security app,” Eddie-boy says. “If we can catch it live, I can trace the signal.”
“Good idea.” Jonathan nods, looking impressed. “I’ll set up a monitor.”
“I have some equipment I need to get set up,” Eddie-boy says.
“Is that the shit you shipped to me?” I ask. “It’s already in your apartment.”
“Perfect. Thanks, LT!”
“LT?” Jonathan looks between us.
“Lieutenant,” I say as I roll my eyes. “He won’t stop.”
“I think I like him, boss.”
“I’m starting to doubt my decision to bring him here.” I glance back and forth from one man to the other. “It’s like having twins.”
“We’re custom.” Jonathan nods seriously but can’t keep a straight face.
I roll my eyes again, and they both laugh, and we all go our separate ways.
*****
Three days of staking out the apartment in Cody’s name becomes three days of nothing. It’s beyond frustrating. Everything is on hold until I can get things in place with the new security guys, hire an additional bookkeeper to help Becca, and find Joshua Taylor.
Becca doesn’t approve of anyone we’ve checked out to help her. She had dismissed each and every applicant with one excuse or another. Some of them were good, too. They checked out but not enough for her tastes.
There is some good new though. Alina gave me a bottle of stinky skin softener and swore it would get the Soccer Mom sticker off the Camaro’s bumper. And damn if she wasn’t right! The stuff gets the bumper clean but leaves me smelling like a whorehouse. It takes two showers before the scent leaves my skin.
I’m trying to keep myself occupied, but all I really want to do is find a nice, high place on a building and take a few potshots. When Alina is around, she keeps me busy with making a thousand changes to the apartment to make it homier. I told her she could do whatever she wants, but she insists on my opinion about everything. Currently, she’s off running some errands while I play with the dog to keep my mind off everything else.
“What? You need some kind of reward just to bring me something?”
Maisy tilts her head at me, and the expression on her face as she cocks her ear makes me chuckle. I hold up the treat, and she sits down, staring at me intently. I’m determined to teach her to fetch, but nothing seems to work. I’m used to dogs who are natural retrievers, and this ball of fluff just isn’t.
“Get it!” I toss the little rubber ball again, and it stops just a few inches from her feet. She sniffs at it, and I give her a treat. “Good girl!”
I do this a couple more times until she finally picks the ball up. I rub her, give her more treats, and generally fawn over her until she’s ready to try again. It takes several tries, but eventually she’s at least going and getting the ball. She won’t bring it back or give it to me afterward though. Instead, she tries to bark with the ball in her mouth, and I have to laugh at the effort.
I hear a text come through on my phone, but it’s out of my reach. Maisy’s got the ball, and as she comes up for her treat, she drops the ball at my feet. I give her a bunch more praise, the phone forgotten, and do it all over again.
My phone dings again, but I don’t want to stop the game. She’s finally starting to get the hang of it. She’s dropped the ball twice now for treats. I just need to get her to actually bring it closer to me. By the time the phone goes off for the third time, she’s actually managed to bring the ball back to me twice.
“All right,” I tell her. “Break time.”
She stays right at my feet, ball in her mouth, and stares up at me as I walk over to the kitchen island to retrieve my phone. The texts are from Alina.
Need to talk NOW
Don’t want this in text—must talk
Trying to get where I can call you. Are you there?
Scowling at the phone, I type back a quick message.
I’m here. What’s going on?
I stare at the phone, willing a response. There’s a tickling feeling on the back of my neck, and I don’t like it. Allina hasn’t proven herself to be much of a texting person—she usually just calls—and the tone of the messages has me concerned. When I don’t get a response within a couple of minutes, I call.
No answer. I go back to texting.
Answer the damn phone now!
Still no answer. I call again and again.
Nothing.
My skin goes cold, and I quickly dial another number.
“What’s up LT?”
“Trace Alina’s phone now. I need to know where she is.”
“Alina?”
I realize I haven’t said anything at all to Eddie-boy about Alina, and he has no idea who I’m talking about.
“My girlfriend!” I yell into the phone. I rattle off her number and her carrier and tell him to get on it as I run for the door. I call Jonathan on my way down to the parking garage.
“I think Alina’s in trouble,” I say as I jump into the car. I take off down Michigan
“That’s your hooker?”
“Yeah. She was texting me, but now she isn’t answering.”
“Maybe she’s taking a shower or something.”
“No. Something is wrong! Eddie’s tracing her phone, but she’s supposed to be at her apartment, turning in her keys and whatever. I’m heading that way now.”
“Want me to meet you?”
“Yes.” I give him the address
.
“You got it, boss.”
I slow down to turn, curse at a red light, and then get moving again. Alina’s apartment isn’t all that far, but the more I think about her messages, the more panicked I become. I have no idea what’s going on with her, and I fear the worst.
A couple of minutes later, the phone rings.
It’s Alina.
“Where the fuck are you?” I scream into the phone.
“I’m just a couple of blocks from your place,” she says quietly.
Growling, I immediately turn around and start heading back in the other direction.
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“I didn’t want them to hear me!” I can tell she’s crying.
“Who?”
“Teto and some other guy. They were outside the apartment when I was leaving. I heard them, Evan. I heard them talking about you.”
“What guy?”
“I’ve never seen him before.”
“What are you doing up this way if you were at your apartment?” None of this is making sense.
“They were taking the bus. I think they are looking for you. I followed them.”
“You followed them?”
“I think they’re going to try to kill you, Evan!”
“Where are you exactly?” I try to breathe deeply and keep my voice calm.
“Just off of Lake, the Walgreens near Atrium Mall.”
“Stay there. I’m heading your way.”
My phone beeps with another call.
“Don’t you move!”
“I won’t.”
I switch calls, and Eddie-boy is on the other line.
“I got her near Lake and LaSalle.”
“I just heard from her, and I’m heading that way. Meet me there. Follow her signal.”
“Will do, LT.”
There is nowhere to park on the street, and I end up pulling up by a fire hydrant on the corner of Lake and Clark, across from the Walgreens. Let them fucking tow the car; I don’t care at this point. I just need to see her and make sure she’s all right. I’ll deal with Teto and the mystery man later.
I find her fairly quickly. She’s right where she said she would be, partially hiding behind a display of energy drinks. The relief I feel seeing her unharmed washes over me as she runs to me and wraps her arms around my neck.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she says, crying against my chest.