by Carsen Taite
She didn’t have much choice, but she was bent on wrangling some of the details. “I’ll do it, but you can’t do anything with the info until tomorrow. I need to get out of town.”
“Deal.”
She gave me turn by turn directions to a shack, posing as a house in a neighborhood worse than mine. I was no stranger to this part of town, but I was sure glad I didn’t live here. I wanted to wait in the car while she went in to get me some of what she promised, but I didn’t trust her. Funny, since she was either too trusting or too dumb to realize she’d led me to where she lived. Guess she figured I’d either keep my word not to come looking for her or that I wouldn’t want to return.
I followed her inside. The place was the very definition of squalor, but I tried to act like I visited dumps every day. She offered me water, which I’m sure would be poison once poured into any of the nasty glasses lining what I’m sure were roach-filled cabinets. It amazed me what some people do with their freedom. Jail would be a step up for her.
She ducked into the bathroom, and I chose not to follow. I have some standards, and frankly, I was scared of contracting one of those flesh-eating strains of bacteria. She popped out in less than a minute and shoved a prescription bottle in my hand. I read the label.
“This is just like the one you gave Di—I mean my partner?” No sense disclosing Diamond’s name, real or not.
“Exactly.”
I rolled it over in my palm and read the label. Laura’s name, address, and an official looking patient number. And a logo for a pharmacy I’d never heard of. “I don’t get it. What’s so special about it?”
“I dunno.”
She did and I told her so. “Deal was the bottle and info. Spill.”
“I don’t know much,” she insisted. “I get it from this gal at Slice of Heaven. I don’t know where she got it.”
“You get what? The pills? And then what, you put them in an old bottle with your name?” Possession of an unauthorized script was a misdemeanor. Not Laura’s most serious crime, but I could see why she’d want to minimize her exposure.
“No, I get the pills and the bottle. They come together. You know, the pills are in the bottle.” She delivered the ramble as if I were the slowest person on the planet. Right now, I kinda felt that way.
“But your name is on the bottle.”
“Right. They put it on there.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“I dunno.”
She probably didn’t. “Okay, give me the name of the girl you got them from.”
“She’s one of Yuri’s girls. She’s not going to talk to you.”
“Great, we won’t talk. Give me her name.”
“I don’t know her real name.” I stared her down and waited. Finally, she shook her head. “She goes by Candy.”
Of course she did. I closed my fist over the pill bottle and contemplated my next move. It wouldn’t involve Laura, aka Yvonna Hump. Looked like I was going to make a trip to Slice of Heaven whether I wanted to or not. But first, I needed some advice, and I knew just who to call.
I cut Laura loose and drove directly to Chance’s place. It was late, but we regularly called on each other late at night. True, I usually showed up looking for something other than advice or information in the dead of night. I wasn’t ruling out a little release if she was up for it. Spending the evening in strip clubs would affect anyone’s libido. And brushing into Diamond hadn’t helped.
As I pulled up to Chance’s house, I plotted my approach. Sex first, then information. She was more likely to share when she was relaxed. But the minute I drew close, I realized my plan was just that—mine. Jess had other plans.
I recognized the snazzy car from the day Red had picked her up at the softball game. What I hadn’t noticed at the game was the Illinois plate. Interesting, but Illinois or Texas, it really didn’t matter. Jess was probably relaxing just fine without my help. I considered knocking on the door anyway. It was late; maybe Red would be leaving soon. Surely, she wouldn’t mind an interruption from one of Jess’s old friends. But I knew she would. Same way I would if Red came calling while I was visiting. Rather than put a name to what I felt, I did a petty thing and wrote down the tag number of Red’s car, then peeled out in a move sure to disturb whatever activity was going on inside.
Chapter Six
I started the next day early. Really early since I hadn’t really slept. Instead, I’d spent a healthy amount of time on the Internet, looking up the coin Yuri had forced on me. It was a Russian Imperial 5 Ruble, 1885, worth several grand, depending on who you asked. Maybe I should be happy about scoring such a big reward, but I couldn’t help but think about the consequences of accepting it.
I stuck the coin in my pocket, and turned to less professional pursuits, like the numbers and letters on the crumpled piece of paper I’d saved from last night. Chance wasn’t my only friend on the force, and I’d called in a favor to get Red’s plate run. Red, aka Heather Deveaux, not only drove a fancy car, she had a posh Chicago address. According to LinkedIn and Avvo, she was a doctor, an ophthalmologist, and part of a group of eye specialists located in the Windy City. Either she hadn’t gotten around to updating her profile or she was between jobs. Or she was only here for a visit.
A doctor. Make that surgeon. Whatever. I wondered where Jess had met the good doctor. On a case was the most likely answer since she was a workaholic. Or maybe some do-gooder on the softball team finally decided to make good on their promises to find the coach a gal. They didn’t understand that Jess didn’t need any help getting dates; she just wasn’t big on relationships. Other women our age seem to think all dates came with the possibility of more. I knew better. Jess was probably banging Dr. Deveaux for fun. And who could blame her? Dr. Red was a hottie. I’d have banged her if I’d seen her first.
But I hadn’t, and the fact that Jess had, crawled under my skin and made me restless. I wasn’t sure if my restlessness was more about Deveaux or Jess. I shut down my laptop and changed into tattered sweats and a Notre Dame sweatshirt left behind by a one-night stand. As I recalled, that particular Irish hadn’t fought me. Not much anyway. I shook off the memory. Not getting laid last night had as much to do with my edgy mood as the string of questions I had about Diamond, Jess, and the surprise visit from Yuri. A run would calm me down.
My neighborhood woke slowly. It was after eight, and signs of life were limited to the garbage truck collecting the remains of last night’s fun from local bars and convenience stores. Fine by me. I liked quiet mornings since I usually spent them tucked in bed. Not having regular hours worked well with my tendency to work at night and rest in the mornings.
I ran twice as far as usual, but the racing thoughts coursing through my brain were not to be outdistanced. I focused on the professional, not the personal. Yuri’s instructions to me, to speak to Bingo, spooked me more than I liked to admit. For several reasons. First, even though I knew Bingo’s gambling biz was illegal, I hadn’t pegged him for being involved in organized crime. But Yuri wasn’t the kind of guy to sling around rumors. So who was Bingo in business with and why did Yuri want a piece of it? Had to be big to draw his interest.
Jess might know. Or know someone who did. The cops were always trying to catch the Petrov family in the act, but usually it was the Feds who were on Yuri’s tail. I honed in on Jess instead of the other person who might know about the Bingo angle—my dad. He’d known Bingo since before I was born. Surely, he had to have picked up some intel during hundreds of poker games over the years.
Where to start? Jess or Dad? It was still early by my standards. Dad wouldn’t be up, or God forbid, he might be at Maggie’s place, and/or she at his. Chance would either be at home or on the job. Or maybe she’d stayed in, brewed coffee, and scrambled eggs for Dr. Red. Ick. If that mess was happening, it needed to be interrupted.
After a quick shower, I made a call and then swung by her place. The Beemer was still parked in the drive. Lovely. I could stay or I could go. I didn�
��t want to bear witness to the domestic bliss probably happening inside, but why should I change my habits because Jess had changed hers?
I resisted the urge to block the Beemer in and parked on the street. I was halfway to the door when it opened and Dr. Red strode down the walk. She wore a sharply tailored black suit with a light blue shirt. I don’t know much about fancy clothes, but the shirt looked soft, like silk. She was taller than I remembered, partly because of the high-heeled black pumps. Where was she going, all dressed up?
I smiled and took a stab. “Job interview?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just a guess, Dr. Deveaux. Or maybe you’ve already landed a cush job at a private practice. That’s what you’re used to, right?”
“Do I know you?” She wrinkled her forehead for a moment, and then the shade of recognition fell. “Oh wait, you were at the softball game. You’re a friend of Jessica.” She said Chance’s name, slow, enunciating each syllable.
Jess-i-ca? Did she really call Chance Jess-i-ca? What other special couple things did the two of them share?
“I am a friend. An old friend. And what are you?” I had intended to use a more subtle approach, but she had an edge about her that put me off. Confident, superior. Qualities I usually found attractive, but coming from her, the attributes left a sour taste. Like they weren’t genuine, like they were covering something else. I stared her down until she answered.
“I’m a friend too. A new friend.” She smiled. A smarmy smile, and added, “New friends are a treasure, don’t you agree?”
Okay, that did it. I hated her. “Weren’t you on your way out?”
She glanced back at Chance’s front door, like the last thing she wanted to do was leave if I was staying. “Yes, I suppose I was.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you.” I swept my arm in a grand gesture toward her car. Her very expensive car, which looked totally out of place in front of Jess’s modest house.
She took a step, then stopped. “I do need to go, but I’ll be back. Soon.”
I watched her drive off. If her parting words were meant to be some sort of threat, I wasn’t buying. No way was a woman like that going to steal Jess’s heart. I tried not to wonder why I cared so much.
Jess’s paper was still in the yard. I picked it up and carried it to the door, which swung open before I could raise my finger to press the bell.
“What’re you doing up?” She stood in the doorway, her blond hair wet, her long-sleeve shirt unbuttoned to reveal a flat plane of well-toned muscle. Sexy. Delicious. I tried to ignore how freshly fucked she looked.
“Nice greeting. Thought you’d be in a better mood, Jessica.”
She squinted at me, likely trying to divine what I meant without having to ask. I left her guessing. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“I need to get to work.”
“You’re late already. John will cover for a while longer.” Chance had recently been reunited with her old partner. For the past few months, she’d been stuck with a loser named Elton, who thought the way up the ladder was on the back of his more experienced partner. Unlike Elton, John didn’t consider me a near felon, and he knew Jess and I went way back. When I called him this morning, he’d let me know that Jess had called and said she was going to be late. I’d correctly assumed she was still at home and headed right over. Apparently, my timing had been perfect. Now that Dr. Red was gone, Jess could make coffee for me.
“Come on in. We can talk while I get ready.” She didn’t wait for an answer, and left me in the doorway while she strode off in the direction of her bedroom. I’d only been here a few times in the light of day. Normally, I showed up late at night and whatever happened between us occurred in the dark.
I liked her place. It looked lived in. Pictures on the walls, mementos on the shelves. The pots and pans hanging in the kitchen were used for cooking, not dust-gathering, potential weapons like they would be at my place. And she owned the place, which meant no nosy landlord snooping around. I followed her to the bedroom and made myself comfortable on the unmade bed while she finished getting dressed with a leisure I didn’t usually see. I felt smug that I, not the doctor, had the pleasure of this particular intimacy.
She let me ogle for a few minutes before she asked, “Are you going to stare at me or tell me what you came for?”
“Maybe you’d like to come now.” I patted a spot on the bed beside me. “Care to join me?” I was only partly kidding, but I added a laugh to give her an out and save face in case she blew me off.
She didn’t laugh me off. No, she did something far worse.
“I’m seeing someone.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
Our casual relationship was over. I could read it in her eyes. I was torn about whether I wanted her to speak the words. We’d relieved each other’s stress for ages. Was she really cutting me loose? For a hot broad in a fancy car?
Looks like I’d answered my own question, but I pushed the point. “Are things between you and Dr. Deveaux that serious?”
She whipped around. “How do you know her name?”
“Magic.”
She shoved me in the shoulder. “Leave it be, Bennett. My girlfriend isn’t one of your jumpers.”
“Girlfriend?” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the word tumbled out before I could stop it.
She blushed. Apparently, my shout made Jess as uncomfortable as it made me. It’s one thing to announce something and another again to have it reflected back at you. I stared at Jess’s reddening face. I’d seen her face assume lots of different expressions—anger, pain, humor, passion—but never anything that resembled embarrassment. I grabbed her arm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell. What’s up with you?”
She shrugged out of my grasp and put several feet of distance between us. She was acting like I was a disease she might catch. I stared her down until I drilled through the surface. She wasn’t embarrassed about calling Heather Deveaux her girlfriend. She was embarrassed about me. About the fact I’d still show up on her doorstep, looking for casual sex, when she’d probably already whispered words of promise to the doctor.
“So I guess you are pretty serious about her.” I was the master of the obvious today.
“I like her. A lot.”
“Tell me about her. Does she have a job yet? Is the job market better here than in Chicago?” I hated acting all casual about the subject, but I figured it was the only way I’d get any info at all. If pushed, I’d have to admit my curiosity was more about envy than interest.
“Let’s not do this, Bennett. Did you have some other reason for dropping by? Mornings aren’t usually your thing.”
She knew me. And I’d come to rely on that. I wanted to tell her I’d come by the night before, but she’d been too busy for what we normally shared. I wanted to know details about Deveaux, but she didn’t want to share what had become her preferred form of intimacy. I resolved to find out some other way and focused instead on the original reason for my visit.
“What’s Yuri Petrov up to these days?”
Her face got stormy and I smiled. This was the Jess I knew. “Stay away from him.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice. Problem is he won’t stay away from me.” I described our chance meeting the night before and showed her the gold coin. “It’s an Imperial Five Ruble. I Googled it.”
“It’s old. Bet it’s worth a fortune.”
“You know a good pawn shop?”
“Don’t be stupid. Did Yuri give this to you?” She didn’t wait for my answer. “You should give it back. You keep this, he owns you.”
My turn to step back. “No one owns me.” I stared hard to make sure she got the full implication of my words.
“Chill. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. Yuri’s people have been very active lately. I don’t know what they’re up to, but I think they’re squaring up for a big move.”
“Any reason it mig
ht have something to do with Bingo’s place?”
She shook her head. “I don’t get how Bingo could be involved. Yuri’s not into gambling.”
“But Vedda is. And when I showed up asking Bingo about Vedda’s guys, he practically threw me off the property. There’s something I’m missing, but I don’t know what it is.” I started to mention the prescription I’d gotten from Laura the night before, but she cut in to warn me off again.
“Is there a reason you care? Is Hardin not giving you enough work? Stick to what you do best and leave the detecting to those who get paid for it.”
I thought about the other jumpers still on my list. Her comment about detecting pissed me off, but she was right. I wasn’t a cop, nor did I want to be. Wasn’t my job to stop crime. I should go for the sure thing and leave the loose ends for someone who cared. There was only one reason for me to chase down whatever Vedda, Petrov, and Bingo were into, and Jess named it before I could.
“Unless you’re so hot for the Fed that you’d scare up trouble you don’t need. That’s never worked well for you before.”
Diamond. We’d somehow circled back around to her. “Why don’t you like her?”
“I don’t know her. And neither do you. But I do know this—once you go as deep undercover as she did, it’s hard to ever be honest.” I started to protest, but she held up a hand to stop me. “Hear me out. Maybe honesty isn’t the best word, but the line between truth and fiction becomes shady. It has to or you can’t survive. I’m not faulting her, but I believe she’ll use you to get what she needs. Don’t count on her needs to be the same as yours. Be careful.”
She cared enough to warn me from danger, but that kind of caring wasn’t what I’d come looking for. I wasn’t going to beg and she wasn’t offering. The realization made me act like a spoiled two-year-old who couldn’t stand to see someone else playing with her toy. “Why don’t you stick to running the doctor’s life, not mine? I can take care of myself.”