by Mike Faricy
“I think we’ll just stay here.”
Kelley looked at both of them. “Suit yourself. Pauly,” he called.
The door swung open immediately and Pauly filled the doorway. “Yes sir, Mr. Kelley?”
“Pauly, get me something to drink.”
“A water?”
“No, I’ll take a bourbon, no ice. Gentlemen?”
Long Nose blinked, barely shook his head once, indicating no, his partner gave no response at all.
“Just the bourbon, Pauly and no ice.”
Chapter 81
Mickey felt he could hear his traveling music just a little louder after that brief exchange with Kelley. The prudent thing to do at this point would be for Mickey and Dell to quietly leave town, maybe for rest of their lives. It had been quite a day, he had learned that mad man Huey Evans was on their tail, Dell was whining, Bunny was passed out, Kelley screwed up a simple ransom payment and probably brought the cops in, and Janice wasn’t talking to him except to let him know her stepfather intended to kill him.
As he drove back to his place he thought it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the matching dishes, the new coordinated furniture, two end tables, the nice throw rug, all the things she picked out, yeah it was fine, great. He even liked some of the clothes she had gotten for him. He would never be the khaki slacks sort of chump, but that aside he could say his life did seem a bit more organized and that was good.
Of course, now he had the kind of place where guys would never feel comfortable coming over and playing poker. And she was always on that color pallet jag, telling him his clothes weren't right. Her old man is out there somewhere looking to gun him down and Janice is giving him a fashion once over.
What he did was pack about a half-dozen shirts, a pair of shorts, his shaving kit, and a bottle opener. He was back out the door in under five minutes, with everything stuffed into an old gym bag. He didn’t even bother to close the door tightly behind him, just pulled it half way closed, and walked calmly down the staircase, never looking back. He pulled the old Luger out of his belt, laid it on the front seat and drove off around the corner.
Chapter 82
If they had been ten seconds earlier Buster Keegan and Huey Evans probably would have collided with Mickey’s car. But that didn’t happen because Huey had insisted on two things. First, he was going with Buster to check out Mickey’s place, and second, he was bringing his shotgun. That ate up a good ten minutes. The two of them arguing back and forth while Huey uncased a smart looking, side by side double barrel with silver mounts. He loaded it, stuffed additional shells in his pocket then stormed out to Buster’s Mercedes. He tossed the shotgun in the back, climbed into the front seat, and waited with his arms crossed.
“I’m not driving you across town with a loaded shotgun in my back seat,” Buster said starting the car. Then he pulled away from the curb and did exactly that.
They drove in silence. Huey back to turning over the names Michael and Mickey Donnelly in his mind, thinking they were familiar yet still unable to recall exactly why. He thought of all the people he’d screwed over the past thirty years, trying his best to find a link. In the meantime, Buster drove across town, thinking this was exactly why he enjoyed working alone.
So, ten seconds after Mickey had turned the corner, Buster pulled up in front of the duplex, stopping in the parking spot still warm from Mickey’s car.
“This dump?” Huey said. He looked at Buster, not quite believing the peeling frame structure they were parked in front of. Somehow, he had envisioned a place on a grander scale.
“Well, you said he only hit you for a hundred grand, apparently he likes to think small. Leave that damn shotgun here, will you? He may not be the right guy, for all we know,” Buster said.
“He’s the right guy. Didn’t you tell me she spent the night here? Think about it, this guy gets the inside dope on me. Knows to torch my garage with my gorgeous Chevy in there, and it’s not the right guy? If this jerk is home, I’m getting paid!” he yelled, then pulled the shotgun off the back seat and calmly walked up the front steps.
“Jesus,” Buster said to no one. He looked up and down the street to make sure there wasn’t a squad car or a nosey neighbor watching before he followed Huey up the steps.
On the porch, Buster pointed to the mail box labeled 2 and pulled out a handful of advertising circulars, most addressed to resident. He thumbed through the stack, stopping at one addressed to Michael J Donnelly or current resident. He showed it to Huey who couldn’t seem to care less.
Huey got a disgusted frown on his face, took a step back, and kicked the old door squarely just alongside the doorknob. The door flew open and Huey grunted at Buster. “You can stay here and read the mail if you want. I’ll see if anyone’s home.” He hurried up the creaking staircase and waited for Buster at the top.
The door to the second floor unit was open an inch or two. Buster cautioned Huey by holding his finger to his lips. He carefully pushed the door open to get a peek into the room. After a moment, he pushed it open a little more to get a better view.
“Screw this,” Huey said and shouldered the door, bouncing it off the wall. He charged past Buster, shotgun first, into the room. In a matter of a minute or two they had gone through the entire unit, even checking closets and under the bed to determine if Mickey was hiding somewhere.
“Jesus Christ,” groaned Huey looking around. “Who decorated this dump? Dried flowers on the wall, and check these candles out,” he sniffed. “Smells like Christmas in a whore house. Furniture reminds me of some old lady’s place. The sort of joint where they don’t let you sit on anything.”
“That’s it,” said Buster, walking into the kitchen, opening cabinets, looking inside, then turning around and opening the refrigerator, staring at the bottles of beer filling the better part of two shelves, an empty pizza delivery box sat on top of the beer bottles.
“What do you mean, that’s it? This ain’t no whore house, least wise not like one I’ve ever been in.”
“No,” Buster said looking around, nodding. “The mail, or the lack of anything pertinent in the mail. The furniture, you’re right, no one has used this place. Look at this refrigerator,” he said stepping back so Huey could see in and view the beer bottles. “No one in their right mind could live like this, nothing of a personal nature here, no food. This is some sort of safe house.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a front, Huey. He just used this place for a while and then left it. I’m sure if we checked we’d find the rent has been paid for five or six months in advance. Whoever was here, I’ll bet they stayed for a few days, maybe a week tops. Look around, you see a computer, any food, a shaving razor or even a tooth brush anywhere? The night I saw your daughter here the guy moved like a pro, checking up and down the street making sure it was safe. Everywhere he goes he’s like that, cautious, careful, like a cat, hell . . . this guy is a real pro.”
“Oh, bullshit, just cause the guy likes beer and bought some new furniture, get off it,” Huey said, not sounding at all convinced. “What about that name, Donnelly. My daughter picked up on it when I mentioned it. And those clothes in the closet and those shoes.”
“Well, maybe the guy used that name with her, as for those clothes, you check them out? They’re off the rack from Good Will if you look at them closely. Shoes too, it’s all just window dressing, stage props. Go check it out, my guess is you’ll find stuff you could wear to paint a house and maybe a dress up shirt, but nothing in-between.”
“Are you telling me—”
“I’m telling you this guy is a pro. Connected. Come on, think about it, Huey! No one lives like this and then pulls off what you say they did? This guy is most likely long gone. This has the mark of a real pro, someone not taking any chances.”
Chapter 83
Mickey hated to take any more chances, but he felt trapped. He had to figure out if Kelley really did have the cops with him. What could they do? Trace him to a different county in ninety seconds
and then arrest him? Not very likely. He redialed Kelley’s number.
Kelley sat at his desk wanting another bourbon so bad he could scream, but he didn’t dare, have the bourbon that is. He jumped when the phone finally rang, figuring to hell with playing it cool or sounding too eager. “Hello, this is Jack Kelley.”
Mickey lowered his voice to a whisper. “Kelley, we spoke about one hundred thousand dollars. I want it in twenties, non-sequential numbers, unmarked, no damn dye pack. Place it in a cardboard box, tape the box closed and wait for my next call. By the way, we had a nice chat with your wife, she gets a couple of drinks in her, she talks an awful lot. We know what you did,” Mickey said, adding that last bit from a movie he saw.
Long Nose watched as Kelley’s face went from crimson red to pale white, the life actually seemed to drain from the man.
He hung up the phone, collected himself for a moment before looking at the two men seated across from him. “They’re sticking to a hundred grand, at least for now. I expect that’ll change. I’m going to need the two of you to make sure this whole thing is very quietly contained. Right now, I’ve got to make a couple of calls to get that cash. I’ll have Pauly and Carl accompany me. In the event I’m being watched, I would prefer that these people know absolutely nothing about you two.”
He got a nod from Long Nose and looked over to the partner, who amazingly looked up and smiled at Kelley.
“Pauly, get the car!”
Chapter 84
Against Buster’s better judgement, Huey had torn the place apart, twice. Looking under furniture, overturning the couch after slitting the cushions open. He sliced the mattress and box spring. He took everything out of the closet and threw it on the floor. In short, he ransacked the place and still came up empty handed.
“Huey, we’re on borrowed time here. I’ll lay you odds that not only are we never, ever going to find anything, but now your fingerprints are most likely the only ones in this place. So, whatever these guys pulled off there’s a good chance now that you could get hung for it. So, please, can we just get the hell out of here?”
Huey looked around at the mess he’d created. His initial anger more or less spent. “Grab the beer out of the refrigerator and lets get out of this dump. I can feel it, I know I’m close to whatever it is. Can’t quite put my finger on it yet, but I will, damn it. I will.”
He brushed past Buster, shotgun trailing in his right hand.
“Make sure you open one of those beers up, unless you’ve got an opener in that fancy car you drive.”
Huey began sipping his beer as Buster pulled into rush hour traffic.
“I’m thinking the best place to be right now is on Janice’s ass. Why not just see if she leads us to this guy?”
“Think she still knows where he is? That place looked like it had been awhile since anyone was there. Who in the hell would stay there for any length of time? No one I know,” Buster said.
“Oh, she knows, all right. I’ll bet she knows where he is right now.”
Chapter 85
“God, where in the hell have you been, Mick? I was worried. I’ve been expecting to see Huey race up the driveway any minute ready to pound my head in, just for old times’ sake,” Dell said.
“Huey ain’t gonna be bothering us and he certainly ain’t gonna be pounding anyone’s head in. Least not yours or mine. Everything’s going like clockwork. Kelley’s off to get our cash. I’ll call him in a bit. We’ll be rid of little Miss Manhattan downstairs in short order, then off to a little warm weather vacation.”
Dell smiled weakly.
“Hey, come on, we’ve been through way too much to get hosed up now. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”
“Yeah, that’s what worries me, Mick, another one of your plans.”
“Everything’s on schedule, just need you to head up to the lake, and grab that cash. In the meantime, I’m going to set up the drop off with Kelley for tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Once we get Kelley’s payment, we need to leave town, fast. You head up to the lake, get our bank roll and come on back. I’ll deal with everything down here. Now, not another word, I’ve got to get moving,” Mickey said.
As he drove toward the payphone he could feel the stress gradually ebbing away now that events were finally in motion. Dell would return after midnight with their cash. They would dump Bunny in the morning, get Kelley’s money. Then, while Huey checked whatever he wanted to check, Mickey and Del would leisurely drive to Florida. From there they could grab a flight to Grand Cayman, maybe LA or just stay in Florida.
Kelley glared at the phone, letting it ring twice before he answered. “Yes,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. Whoever this was on the other end, they were going to get an unscheduled appointment with Long Nose and his friend.
“Kelley?” Mickey said, still having trouble associating the booming baritone with the shyster lawyer who charged him for the privilege of serving time in Lino Lakes.
“Expecting someone else?”
“Kelley?” Mickey asked again.
“Yes, this is me, Jack Kelley,” the voice unable to disguises his irritation.
“I’ll call you in the morning,” Mickey said and hung up. He wasn’t sure what Kelley was up to, but he had a strong feeling something wasn’t right.
“No, wait, wait,” Kelley shouted just as the line went dead. They know, he thought. I don’t know how, but they know. He managed a weak smile at Long Nose staring at him from across the desk.
Chapter 86
It was well after midnight before Dell returned with two trash bags stuffed with twenty-dollar bills.
“I have a bad feeling,” Mickey said. So were going to play things super cautious. We don’t need problems with Kelley and I don’t need Huey breathing down our neck. I’ve got a plan.”
“Yeah, I know you’ve got a plan, Mick. The only problem is every time I ask you about your plan, you don’t come up with any details. You just change the subject and tell me not to worry, and that really makes me worry. Right now, I’m worried big time. In fact, I’m scared to death.”
“Just relax, this will all be over tomorrow morning. We’ll be laughing about the whole thing, heading south without a care in the world.”
“See, see? You’re not telling me a damn thing, Mick. My ass is on the line right along with yours, so let’s be honest. You don’t have any idea what we’re going to do with Bunny down there. Do you? Let’s just drop her off at her house tonight and be done with the whole deal. There, that’s my plan. Then all we have to worry about is Huey trying to kill us.”
For a moment Mickey looked like he was actually considering Dell’s idea.
“That’s not a bad thought. But, that’s not what we’re going to do. So just pack a suitcase, toss in some suntan lotion and don’t worry. We’ll go over everything in the morning, I’ve just got a couple of minor details to work out and then I’ll fill you in. Okay?”
“Minor details, you’re sure?”
“Yeah, just some little things I’m thinking through. We’ll talk over breakfast. Get me up at seven. We got a busy day ahead of us.”
“You sure?”
“Seven o’clock,” Mickey said, rolling onto the couch, grabbing the TV remote, and wondering just what in the hell he was going to do.
Chapter 87
In between pacing, reassuring her daughter that nothing was wrong, and hanging up the phone every time Mickey’s answering machine kicked in, Janice was a basket case. It was his usual routine, no contact, no calls, no email, not even so much as a text message. She had no idea if he was alive, dead or hanging by his thumbs somewhere.
God, he could be so attentive when they were together and such a jerk the rest of the time. She would love to string him up herself and it wouldn’t be by the thumbs. Why didn’t he call?
She had paced herself into a frenzy going back and forth in her bedroom and she simply wasn’t going to take it anymore. She tos
sed her jacket over her pink flannel nightgown and hurried out to her car. The fluffy faux feathers along her hem barely skimmed the sidewalk. She had to scrunch her toes to keep her fuzzy slippers from falling off. She didn’t care what she looked like, she just wanted Mickey to see how upset he had made her.
She slammed a fuzzy slipper down on the accelerator and raced off into the night. If she had to wait all night for him to come home, she didn’t care.
“Man, she looks really pissed off,” Buster said, not at all sure he wanted to follow her right now.
“Just like her mother. I saw that woman pissed off like this hundreds, no make that thousands of times. This is exactly what we’ve been waiting for, come on, don’t lose her.”
Janice made the fifteen-minute drive to Mickey’s in just under eight minutes, then sat steaming behind the wheel, parked in front of the darkened duplex. She didn’t see his El Dorado anywhere on the street.
“That bastard. Three in the morning and he’s not home yet. Out running around town, making a fool out of me and I’m sitting here hoping he’ll come home so we can have a talk. I’m such a pathetic loser.”
She rummaged around her glove compartment and found a Milky Way candy bar she had saved for just such an emergency. The bar had melted and reformed more than once. The chocolate, now partially white, cracked and crumbled as she inhaled the thing in four large bites. There, she thought, spiraling down into an even deeper depression. Now, I’ll be a fat loser.
“What do you think she’s doing? It looks like she’s just sitting there,” Buster said.
“Yup. She’s sitting there just getting more and more pissed off.”
“What?”
“Believe me, she’s just like her mother. She’ll work herself into a lather over something and blow whatever the problem is out of all proportion. So much for your idiotic idea about this place being some sort of halfway house,” Huey said.