“Your dime?”
“Yeah, my dime.” Lance smiled and peeled four one-hundred dollar bills out of one of the envelopes. “I’ll call you in a bit.”
I followed Lance out, then made a detour to the kitchen. I still hadn’t eaten, and now that the nerves had worn off I was ready to chow down. Thanksgiving leftovers were always a treat, and even Nate’s whacked-out folks seemed to have had quite the spread.
“You want anything?” I yelled from behind the refrigerator door.
“Nah, I’m good.”
I carried an overstuffed plate down the hall, sampling the wares as I walked, and as I turned the corner into the office, Nate was standing up, one hand shuffling through the drawer, one hand deep in his pocket.
“Find anything good in there?” He nearly jumped out of his skin when I spoke.
“Uh, no,” he said, exaggerating the digging. “Just adjusting my balls.” He closed the drawer and leaned on the corner of the desk. “Been sitting way too long and my boys needed some attention.”
“I mean the drawer. I really don’t want to hear about your nuts.”
“I was just checking it out to make sure I didn’t miss anything. I don’t think I ever really searched through all these drawers, you know.”
“Well you’re missing this sandwich. It is righteous. You sure you don’t want half of it? Of course, you’re going to need to wash your hands before you even get close to my plate.”
“Nah, I’ve been nibbling all day. There still should be lots of food left for later,” Nate said, “even with your gluttony.” I raised a forkful of dressing in response and jammed it in my mouth. “Vicky had it all catered in, but my dad still complained about the turkey being too dry and the dressing being too runny, so both of them went their separate ways without eating. I knew I was going to be here by myself all weekend, so I put it up before it turned. Cold turkey breast on white bread with mayonnaise makes what could be the perfect sandwich.”
“Add bacon and you’re there.”
I continued to eat while Nate slid back into his chair where he counted out the money and made entries in what looked like a notebook.
“What are you doing?”
“Have to account for everything – Lance’s indiscretions notwithstanding, lots of eyes may be on these withdrawals.”
“Oh, speaking of that, Nate. Back to what happened at Magnolia Federal. The manager told me when I went to take out the money –”
“ – that a withdrawal had been made already that day?”
I put my plate down. “How’d you know that?’
“Did the other manager say anything along those lines?”
“No, but –”
Nate held up his hand. “I couldn’t tell you before, Matt. If I did, none of you would have agreed to go out today.”
“Tell me what? What are you talking about?”
“I did make a call. Several in fact.”
Nate pulled a smaller, pocket-sized notebook out from under the one he had been writing on. He made one more quick note and was about to slide it across the desk when we heard the front door open.
“Lance? That you? You forget something?”
No response, but we must have gotten his attention, because footsteps started coming our way down the hall. I looked at Nate, and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Lance?”
When the pace quickened, and we still didn’t get an answer, we knew it wasn’t Lance. When the heel clicks blew up to a full sprint, we popped out of our seats and started to run, but we were too late.
Doc Mayes beat us to the door.
His hair was a mess; his clothes were dirty, and his eyes – half closed from fatigue and black with rage – locked in on Nate.
“You son of a bitch.”
Chapter 76
At first, I expected a replay of the night Nate’s dad busted in on us playing pool. The similarities sure were there. Nate breaking a house rule. Nate and a buddy hanging out. A surprise entry by a very angry man. All the boxes were checked, except one. This time Nate wasn’t scared. Not in the least.
There had been a paradigm shift.
“Son of a bitch? Who do you think you are? Say something like that again and I will knock your ass out. I won’t hold back like I did last time.”
His dad’s right hand twitched. “I’ve got a friend who works at Hancock Bank here in Gulfport.” He took a step forward as he said it, but when Nate didn’t move, his dad continued.
“A very close friend who looks out for me. I happened to give him a call today, and you know what he said?”
Nate didn’t respond.
“He said ‘I didn’t expect to hear from you twice in one day, Dr. Mayes.’” He leaned into the desk, putting him an arm’s length away from Nate at this point. “Imagine my surprise, considering he and I had not spoken in weeks.”
“Maybe you should pay better attention to your business.”
“You should have never interfered with my affairs, son. That can be dangerous.”
“You should shut up while you’re ahead. And by the way, you haven’t earned the right to address me as son. You quit being my dad a long time ago. You know, right about the time mom died.”
Dr. Mayes’s shoulders stiffened and his head cocked slightly to the left. He may have not been physically punched right then, but he certainly felt the impact of what Nate just dropped on him.
“I’ve seen the picture, dad,” Nate said, “you know the one.” This time, it was Nate who took a step forward. “In fact, I’ve seen all the pictures from your little collection.”
As soon as the words left Nate’s mouth, his dad’s eyes grew wide with surprise, then turned to slits with the understanding that Nate had truly figured it out. I thought I might have even seen a flash of muted admiration in between – his son wasn’t a dumb ass after all – but it didn’t last. A split second later, the two went at it like bull rams fighting over a mate on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom – and at that moment I was proud to see Nate hold his own. They tangled a bit, fists flew, and punches turned into grappling. After about a minute, both were breathing like they’d run up about ten flights of stairs, but Nate was in much better shape. If I were scoring the fight, I would have given it to Nate, hands down. He was bigger and stronger, and just needed one more push and it would have been done.
But the old man had other plans.
Nate went in for the pin, but his dad kicked the chair in his way and threw off Nate’s leverage. Then he grabbed Nate and slammed him right on top of the desk. Luckily, Nate’s momentum rolled him off on my side of the room. He tried to get his footing, but he was still off-balance and tripped on the couch, landing on the opposite side near the corner, causing what looked to be an antique sword fall and clang on the floor. When Nate finally popped back up, ready to go at it again, he took one step and stopped in his tracks when he found himself staring down the barrel of a 9mm Beretta his dad pulled from the desk.
The fight was over.
“What exactly have you done? Tell me everything now, and I might just let you walk out of here.”
“Leave, Matt,” Nate said, never taking his eyes off the gun.
I looked at Nate, then back at his dad – who hadn’t budged.
“Leave.” He said it again, and this time his voice was softer. “You need to meet up with Lance, okay?” He sounded like an elementary school teacher reminding the class to do their homework.
“Okay.” I scooted toward the door, keeping my back against the chair rail the entire time. Before I stepped out, I turned back to Nate just to check one more time.
He looked me square in the eyes and gave me a nod. He didn’t look the least bit scared.
“Go.”
It was the last time I ever saw him.
Chapter 77
Kathryn’s shopping excursion tur
ned out better than she had hoped. At first she was a bit overwhelmed with the lingerie options available. Did people really wear some of these things? Uncomfortable was not the first word that came to mind, but it was one of them. It was different from shopping for cotton coverage panties and functional bras, that’s for sure. Fortunately, the lady working the department was very helpful in finding something that fit Kat’s needs. Sexy, but not slutty, and since everything was on sale, she was able to pick up an additional, if not more practical, outfit.
She made it to the gallery just before three, and was able to spend a few minutes getting organized before Emily showed up, perky and ready to work. Kat thought she might ask Emily about her boyfriend status but chose not to. They were getting along great, and she didn’t want Emily to clam up or think Kat was weird. Plus, Emily would soon find out Kat was going to go after Nate, and she might look back and think Kat had been using her to mine information.
They chatted about Thanksgiving and their mutual successes at the mall before doing a quick walkabout to inventory what needed to be done. Most of the pictures were labeled, and the layout had been blocked long ago. Now they needed to do the build out, construct an additional riser for the quartet (the cellist needed more space), and pick the final two selections from Marty Deen’s drawings. Kat also mentioned they should hang some Christmas decorations, but neither was interested, having spent the bulk of their day immersed in them. Since most of the construction had already been assigned to the men, that left them with one option.
The sketchpad.
“Here it is,” Kat said. “I fully intended to have given this at least one pass by now, but things kept getting in the way.”
“I understand that. We’ve all been busy. How many are in here?”
“Not sure; I think Marty’s dad said about a dozen.”
Emily started flipping through it but wasn’t paying any attention. She was still tired from shopping and needed a few minutes to reset. “Should we wait until he arrives? I’d hate to have to redo this if Marty disagrees with our selections.”
That worked for Kat. She was feeling it too. “Yeah, let’s give it a few more minutes. You want to pick up some coffee? Triplett-Day always has a pot on.”
“Sure.”
Kat handed Emily two dollars. “That should cover us both. I like mine black, straight up.”
“Yuck. I need milk. And lots of sugar.”
“Different strokes.”
“Yep.”
“We can dive in when you get back. See you in a minute.”
Kat stood at the door and watched Emily walk down the sidewalk until she turned the corner and drifted out of sight. She waited there for a minute staring at the parking lot, fully expecting the rest of the crew to show up, but they didn’t. No Nate, no Marty, no Rick.
What could possibly be holding them up?
Chapter 78
The two boys sitting in the back seat had obeyed his orders well. Too well, actually. He expected the teenagers to protest, cry, curse, or at least ask a question or two, but he got nothing. He figured they took his threat of violence to heart, which meant he could use it again if need be. It was not until he instructed them to talk that they spoke up, and when they did, the floodgates opened – so much he could barely get the skinny one to shut up.
During the half hour trip back to Gulfport, he learned a number of things, and the more he heard about the real Nate Mayes, the more impressed he was with the kid. It was not easy to pull off what he did logistically, and the fact that he was able to recruit friends to help him spoke highly of his personal skills. Kat was right – he was a viable witness, on a number of levels.
He sure hoped he wouldn’t have to kill him.
Time would tell, of course, and if the young Mayes was nearly as cooperative as these two, he might let them all live. They may have to survive a few nights bound and gagged in the woods during his exodus, but such is the price of freedom.
Rachel hit him up for some more coke on the way out, but he didn’t have any to give her, which made her less than pleased. He had been trying to wean himself off of it and had been fairly clean since he took his last big hit after the Charlotte Gutherz incident. While the lack of cash on hand certainly helped him achieve his sobriety goals, he attributed most of his detox success to his commitment to reset his life.
He actually tried not to dwell too much on his new self, because he was not there yet. No more ‘Fast Eddie’, no more law enforcement, and a fat bank account were all heady thoughts, but they meant nothing until he had the money and was on a plane headed far, far away from the United States. Nate Mayes was going to get him there.
According to these two, all he had to do is go out to Gulfport Lake and Nate would come to him. It was going to be a party all right, but not the kind they had planned. Once he had them all together, he fully expected Nate to turn over the cash and the information for every single account. If Nate didn’t cooperate, he would kill his friends, one by one, until he did.
In order to round up all the witnesses, however, he had one more stop to make. The timing was about right to make the pickup anyway, so he turned onto Pass Road and made his way towards Green Oaks.
“Hey, where are you taking us? This isn’t the way to Gulfport Lake.” It was the other kid – the loudmouth smart ass – who piped in.
“Did I say you could speak?”
“No.”
“Then shut up.”
He drove a few more blocks and double-checked the address Kat had given him. He smiled when he went through the four-way stop just past the tennis courts.
He was almost there.
Chapter 79
They decided to put up the two largest Christmas wreaths after all, and were soon back at the table. Kat made sure she sat facing the front door.
“We’ve given it some time. Should we just go ahead and sort through these now?” Emily asked. “I mean, it’s up to you, but if we aren’t going to do this, I may head out if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, let’s take a look. We need to make it quick, though. If I don’t see Marty’s face in ten minutes, I’m going to have to get him myself. His parents would freak out if they knew he hadn’t made it.”
“I hope no one got in a wreck or had car trouble.”
“Me too.”
“So, his parents left Marty home alone?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, I bet he’s worried sick he’s not here yet.”
“Probably. You never know with him, though. He’ll surprise you sometimes.”
Kat opened the book. The first sketch was a great blue heron, but it didn’t quite look right. She couldn’t tell if it was the shape of the beak or the colors he used for the wings, but it was off, so she flipped the page, and the second one – a barred owl – wasn’t much better. Emily agreed.
“I hope we find a good one in here that works.”
“Yeah, me too,” Kathryn said and turned to the next one.
C’mon, Marty, Kathryn thought. Surprise me.
Chapter 80
Marty played Spy Hunter until his wrist hurt. It was a good afternoon – his best, actually – because for the first time he made it to the level where the car turns into a boat, and he hit the ramp at just the right spot. He entered his initials for the new high score in case anyone ever checked.
At three o’clock, Marty was ready. Fully dressed, bag packed, and two new batteries in the walkie-talkies. They used nine volts, and when he touched the terminals to the tip of his tongue, the metallic tingle told him they were good to go.
He was disappointed when his ride didn’t arrive on time, but he wasn’t mad. After all, the FBI agent could be doing an undercover sting operation trying to catch a drug dealer. Or maybe the FBI agent was running a secret stakeout waiting for some gangs to show up. Either way, it was important government business – w
ay more important than taking Marty to an art gallery – so he could sit tight until justice was served. Even so, he hoped the car had a siren and a two-way radio he could use.
Marty was almost through rereading a Batman comic when he heard the sound of a vehicle slowing down in front of his house. He closed the book to listen, and sure enough, somebody was pulling in the driveway.
Marty hopped off his bed, buckled the strap on his bag, and grabbed his keys.
It was time.
Chapter 81
Rick Papania parked his truck right in front, climbed out and stretched. He was tired of the drive and was glad to be back in Gulfport, even if it was under these circumstances. It had been a long day covering lots of miles – and he still had work to do.
He looked at the door and hesitated. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but he braced for the worst. Things had been easy – almost too easy – so far, and he hoped his streak would continue.
He stepped up to the concrete, took a deep breath and reached for the door.
Chapter 82
Out of the ten sketches Kat had reviewed, two were serviceable and one was good. The rest were not up to par. The mockingbird, however, was perfect. The attention Marty paid to the plumage was pretty amazing. It would sell, for sure, but she didn’t know about the others. Maybe the gallery would use only one of the extras from the pad. That would be fine with her. There was plenty of inventory on the walls already, anyway. Still, another good one would be nice to have.
Emily flipped to the last page. “What is this?”
The drawing that lay open on the table wasn’t a bird at all. It was a picture of a pickup truck and two men. One was holding a gun and the other was splayed out on the ground, like he’d been shot.
Kat looked at it closer and her throat clicked shut. She couldn’t breathe. As a shaky finger traced the images, tears streamed down her cheeks.
“What is it, Ms. Cooper? Are you okay?” Emily asked. “Ms. Cooper?”
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