Dead Game (26 page)

The poker game
was at a house a few miles outside Rio Vista. A long flat driveway led to a detached garage. Little light seeped from under the garage door and the window on the side, and it didn’t feel right as he walked down the driveway with Crey. Crey turned to reassure him.

“This guy’s wife bitches at him all the time. Wait until you see what he’s got set up in here.”

“Where’s the wife tonight?”

“Fuck, who knows, just be glad she’s not here.”

Marquez glanced at the house. No lights. An SUV was backed up against the garage door, and he listened for voices and didn’t hear any as he followed Crey over stone steps alongside the garage. There was a door, and Crey waited for him to go in first. As he stepped inside, Marquez felt a gun press into his back.

“We’re going to keep this fair,” Crey said from behind him and then stripped Marquez’s Glock. “Pretty interesting piece you got here.”

“I took it off a cop. What’s the deal? Why are you doing this?”

“Sure, you took this gun off a cop. What cop was that?”

Perry aimed a shotgun at Marquez’s gut. Torp was the only other person in the room.

“We’ve got a little plan,” Crey said. “We’re going to take a ride together.”

“No poker?”

It was the best answer he could come up with, but what he felt was fear. Perry and Torp were very quiet, anticipating, and Crey was methodical.

“Take your shoes off,” which was not something he wanted to do since his left shoe had a telelocator in it, a device that would let his team track him. He untied his shoes and was slow getting out of them.

“Where are we going?”

“Where we can settle this.”

“That could affect our partnership.”

“Yeah, it’s going to fuck with it, but I don’t know how many more partners I need anyway.”

“Since you’ve already got Ludovna.”

“See, there you go. That’s probably why I don’t like you, and shit, these two hate you. Lou here can’t wait. Put your hands behind your back.”

And he moved his hands slowly, had no doubt Perry would pull the trigger. Torp moved in and brought a blade to Marquez’s throat as Crey clicked on plastic handcuffs.

“Just like they used to do to me, man.”

The blade cut the skin under his chin. He could turn his head fast, kick out at Crey, and hope Torp didn’t run the knife into him and Perry blow him away. Or gamble the SOU was able to follow wherever Crey took him. A kind of calculation flowed through his head and went nowhere. His mouth was dry, heart pounding, and he resisted the order to get down on his knees. When he did, the knife drew real blood, left a sharp stinging burn along his throat, and he felt blood trickle toward his collar. He got on his knees, and Crey’s boot pushed his shoulders down, his face onto the cold concrete.

“If you kick me, I’m going to stick a knife up your ass,” Crey said. “I’m going to hook up your ankles, and then you’re going to fucking hop to the truck.”

“Where are we going?”

He hopped to the SUV, and they loaded him into the rear and covered him with a blanket. Now he had to count on the SOU, but it was Katherine and Maria he thought about as they drove. He heard the tires hum over the metal plates on the Rio Vista Bridge. He felt the curves of the levee road and wondered if he could talk his way out. They left the paved road and were still running hard, rocks pinging off the underbody and Crey giving directions, a left turn, a right turn, another mile straight ahead, then slowing to a stop. The back opened. The blanket got jerked free, a slide racked on a gun, and Crey leaned over him.

“Don’t move,” Crey said. “Lou, slide the lock down alongside his ankle and then lock the chain and the cuff together and give me the key.”

Cold metal slid along his ankle between the skin and the cuff. He heard the rattle of a light chain and a lock snap into place.

“Getting you ready, my man,” Crey said. “Then we’re going to undo the cuffs on your legs and settle this man-to-man.”

Now he got jerked out the back of the truck, heard Torp and Perry laughing as he bounced off the bumper and landed hard on his side. He checked the horizon for headlights and saw nothing but darkness. The ankle cuff was still on his left leg. A chain was attached to the ankle cuff and he saw the chain snaked around to the front of the truck. Lying on his side he followed the chain to where it hooked to a tow ring. Crey put a boot on him, leaned over, and cut his shirt off.

“In a couple of minutes I’m going to undo your handcuffs, and we’ll flip a coin to see who goes first. I’m going to give you a knife and then you’re going to fight.”

“Why am I chained and they’re not?”

“Because I want it finished here. I don’t want you running away and I don’t want to have to shoot you in the back.”

“You don’t want to do this, Richie. There’s no happy ending.”

Crey’s cell phone rang, he stepped away, and Marquez got to his feet, his hands still cuffed behind him. The Blazer’s headlights shone on a clearing and on rows of vines. On the road in here the team could run without lights. Shauf won’t mess around. The signal from his boots still came from the garage, but she would have seen the Blazer leave the driveway. Probably didn’t see him get loaded in back, but one of the team would have followed the Blazer.

Crey rubbed his face as he talked. Torp and Perry watched him, didn’t like the delay, and Crey didn’t like the phone call. He argued with whoever was on the other end. He looked down the dirt road, then at Marquez. When he hung up he was suddenly in a hurry and walked over to Marquez, waving Perry forward as he did.

“Turn around and I’m going to free your hands.”

When the cuffs fell away Marquez started rubbing his wrists to get circulation. Crey laid a four-inch knife on the hood.

“That’s yours,” he said. “Since they don’t have your reach I’m keeping it fair by giving them bigger knives. Rules are we’re going to go one at a time.” Crey had moved back beyond where the twenty feet of chain that held Marquez could reach. “Pick up your knife. Everybody get ready for the coin toss. This here is the Super Bowl of knife fights.”

He flipped a coin that flickered through the headlights and landed in the dirt of the clearing. Leaned over the coin, then grinned at Torp.

“Your lucky night, Liam.”

“Crey, these guys are already going down. You don’t want to tie yourself to them.”

“Are you going to beg now, man? You going to piss on yourself or be a man? The knife is on the hood with your name on it. Pick it up because the rules are fight to the death.”

Crey scratched out a half circle in the dirt with his boot.

“That’s as far as he can reach with his chain, so the rules are no one leaves the circle unless the other man is dead. If Liam kills him, it’s over. If John wins, Lou, you’re up next.”

Marquez picked up the knife.

“Okay, here we go,” Crey said. “I’ll take it down from one minute starting now.” He held his watch in the light. “Thirty seconds to go.” He smiled at Marquez. “Ten seconds.” He nudged Torp. “Get in there and make the fucker pay. You’re fighting for your honor, man.”

Torp crossed over the line and moved to Marquez’s left, talking as he did. “When I get you down I’m going to pull your teeth out one at a time before I kill you.”

“Take it easy,” Marquez said. “You look better than you did and your breath is a whole lot better.”

Crey and Perry laughed as Torp slashed at him. Marquez jumped back, and Torp tried to corner him, get him out on one end of the chain, but Marquez kept the truck at his back. He blocked the left headlight, felt the heat of the headlight low on his back and lifted his left leg just high enough to grab the chain. He hoped Torp didn’t see that, hoped that without the headlight Torp’s view was restricted, and when Torp slashed at him again he barely moved and the blade caught skin on his right side. A line of red erupted, and Torp lunged in again. As he did, Marquez swung the chain, throwing a long loop, hooking Torp’s head for a moment, then his arm. He jumped sideways and spun the chain around Torp’s arm before he could pull back.

Torp jerked back hard, trying to get his arm free, diving for the outside of the circle and tripping. He lost his knife. He got to his knees and almost got away before Marquez caught up to him. Part of Marquez’s mind registered Perry lifting the shotgun and Crey pushing the barrel up as he brought the knife down in a hard cutting slice across the back of Torp’s foot. He felt it slow, then go through the Achilles tendon. Torp screamed, twisted, and the blade slid free.

Now Torp curled outside the circle, grabbing his ankle, calling for help as Crey got the shotgun from Perry. He heard him tell Perry, “We’re doing this like we said. We’re doing this fair.” He pushed Torp with his boot. “Get your ass back in there.”

Then there were headlights coming toward them, and Crey stopped prodding Torp, and Perry ignored the lights. He quickly stripped off his shirt, picked up a knife, and moved into the light
in front of Marquez. Marquez watched the way he crabbed and moved forward and knew he was in trouble.

“You’re gone,” Perry said and moved sideways, was trying to grab the chain, then tried to step on it. The knife snicked off the hood, and a horn sounded, and Ludovna’s car drove into the clearing. He drove straight at Perry, who dove out of the way. Ludovna hit the brakes and jumped out of the driver’s side with a gun aimed at Crey.

“What did I tell you?” He kept the gun on Crey. “Come here. Unlock him.”

Crey didn’t argue, leaned over near Marquez’s ankle, and freed the cuff.

“You, come here,” Ludovna said to Perry, and, to Marquez’s surprise or maybe because Perry was too far from the shotgun, he came over. He stood near Crey, and Marquez edged away from both. There was something more to happen here. Ludovna had Crey toss the keys to the Blazer to him, and he swung the gun over at Marquez.

“Don’t move any farther.”

The gun swung toward Torp and Perry.

“The fucking detective came to my house today.”

He pointed the gun at Torp’s head, and Marquez knew one of the team had to have followed the Blazer and must have seen Ludovna’s headlights come down here.

“He came to my house asking about Sherri who used to come see me.” He waved the gun toward Torp and Perry again. “These fucks killed her. He’s got murder warrants. They sold her car, and no one told me.” He stared at Crey. “You know what you’re going to do now. You come here. The rest of you lie down.”

Marquez didn’t lie down, knew where this was going and knew it was going to happen fast. Crey had the boat, and he’d borrowed money from Ludovna, so it wasn’t easy to get rid of him. He had a future utility. But not the rest of them, not Torp, Perry, or himself.

“Let me talk to you alone,” Marquez said.

“Get the fuck down.”

He pointed the gun toward Marquez, fired wide, and Marquez didn’t move. Ludovna walked toward him, closing the distance, pointing the gun at his head, Marquez speaking quietly as he got close.

“I’ll do it,” Marquez said. “I know what needs to be done. They were going to kill me so I have no problem with it. Get my gun back and give me the keys to the Blazer, then leave, and I’ll deal with it.”

“Get down! Get the fuck down!”

Marquez pointed at Crey.

“He won’t do it, but I will.” Marquez whispered. “Tell him and see what happens. He’ll make an excuse. He’ll argue with you.”

Ludovna’s eyes narrowed. “Richie, come here.”

Ludovna stepped away with him. They talked, and Ludovna kept the gun aimed at Perry. Then Crey retrieved Marquez’s gun and the shotgun. He handed Ludovna Marquez’s gun and the Blazer keys. He leaned the shotgun against Ludovna’s car. Marquez knew Crey had a handgun as well, but this was the boldness of Ludovna. He had Crey stand next to him, then handed Marquez his gun and pointed at Perry and Torp.

Now, Marquez walked them out at gunpoint toward the darkness of the vines. Torp had to lean into Perry. He could barely
walk and left a trail of blood. He whimpered in pain, and any second Marquez expected Perry to shove him away and run. He figured Perry was waiting to get outside the headlights.

“No farther,” Ludovna called.

But Marquez pushed Perry, said very quietly, “Don’t say anything. Do exactly what I say and maybe there’s a way out of this. Lay down.”

He brought the butt of the gun down across the back of Perry’s head and clubbed Torp to his knees, then kicked him in the head and fired a shot into the dirt an inch from Torp’s ear. He blocked Ludovna’s view and brought the gun down hard on Torp’s scalp. He made sure Torp bled enough to look like he’d been shot.

“Making it real,” he whispered to Perry. “You’ve got to look dead,” and brought the gun down as hard as he could against Perry’s skull, fired twice near him.

Behind him Ludovna’s car started. Its headlights shined this direction, suddenly brightening the ground, lighting the bare vines. Marquez turned to Crey walking toward him, carrying the shotgun, coming out to kill me, he thought. He saw Crey start to raise the gun, and Marquez shot him first. Crey’s shotgun discharged and the blast went high as Crey fell. When he did, the Cadillac backed up fast but didn’t leave yet. The passenger window lowered, and Ludovna watched as Marquez walked up to where Crey lay on his back. He leaned over him and fired twice. He stared at Ludovna and yelled at him, waved the gun.

“Get out of here,” he yelled. “I did it, now get out of here.”

And he watched Ludovna drive away. He walked back to Crey, who’d been hit high on the shoulder and already lost a lot of blood. He staunched Crey’s bleeding, found a cell phone in the Blazer,
and got a hold of a Sacramento County dispatcher. He held Perry and Torp at gunpoint as Roberts and Cairo made their way to him. They’d been on foot less than half a mile away when the gunfire started. They cut through the vines to where he was, and Marquez told them the new plan.

Sacramento County deputies
took charge of the Chevy Blazer, and two ambulances followed police cruisers out the vineyard road. They took Crey out first, loaded Torp into the second ambulance, and Selke confirmed that Ludovna had returned to his house. An unmarked had picked him up as he came through the delta. He showed Selke where the fight had gone down in the clearing and then made his proposal as they drove away.

Down the highway they pulled off on another road, and Marquez waited with Shauf, Roberts, and Cairo. Cairo found him a sweatshirt. They all waited as Selke talked to his captain and ran the idea by him. He was a long time on his phone in his car. Then he walked back to where they were standing.

“You’re insane,” Selke said, “but my captain is willing to go along with your idea. We’ll call the
Sac Bee
and the TV stations, but there’s no guarantee. They don’t like this kind of stuff because
they think it makes them look bad later, and we can’t just lie to them. Also, no one is going to hold the story forever so it’ll all have to go down fast, but everyone agrees it’s worth a try. You really think Ludovna was upset over La Belle?”

“I think so, but I think the real reason was you coming after them with murder warrants. He’s afraid some part of it will reach him. If Crey had killed me I think he would have shot Crey. Right now he’s probably thinking about how to deal with me. What’s going to happen with Crey, Perry, and Torp?”

“Well, it’s interesting. I called the Feds, and they’ve got a way to treat them and keep them away from phones and anybody they can talk to. They’re suddenly very interested in what Ludovna’s doing.”

“Get the TV stations to go along, and I think it has a chance of working. Ludovna has the TV on all the time.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

The morning news reports were less than six hours away. Selke looked at his watch and shrugged. He was for trying the idea but not overly hopeful. Seemed like a long shot to him.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

Six hours later Marquez called Ludovna’s cell and told him to turn the TV on to KMAX. He added, “I should have had a shovel.”

Marquez watched the KMAX report. Three dead of gunshot wounds in a vineyard in the delta, a winery superintendent finding them this morning. Selke was interviewed as the detective in charge. On TV they were saying only that the bodies were Caucasian males approximately thirty-five to forty years of age. He watched the report and waited for Ludovna to call back. When he didn’t call right away, Marquez called him.

“Did you see it?”

“Yes.”

“No one is going to care about these guys. When they figure out they’re all ex-cons they’ll assume it was a drug deal gone bad or something. Everyone will say good riddance.”

“Don’t talk on the phone. You meet me at Raburn Orchards.”

“Are you kidding? Why there? Anywhere else but there.”

“There’s no one out there. The police are finished.”

“So what? I don’t want to be seen around there.”

“Meet me there.”

At noon Marquez met Ludovna in the packing shed at Raburn Orchards. He wore a wire. Ludovna got there ahead of him and was parked near the main house.

“What if someone shows up?”

“I already talked to the bank. I want to buy this property. It’ll be months before all the probate bullshit is done, but if a cop comes he can check with the bank.”

“Why are we here?”

“Because Torp and Perry and Crey killed them, and I have a gun I want you to put on Crey’s boat today.”

“What gun?”

“The one he used here.”

“I’m not tracking you.”

“He killed the Raburns. He killed them with the other two. Torp brought the kids down. The kids could have stayed in bed, but they brought them down to make the parents talk. They didn’t know anything. It was the goof, Raburn, who knew things and he tried to stand up, and they had to kill him before they could get the questions answered. It was all fucked up. It was all a waste.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Crey told me, okay.” Ludovna stared hard at him to make the point that it was the truth. But Marquez didn’t believe him.

“You killed three men last night. They would give you the death sentence, right? But only I know.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means you do what I say this afternoon. You take the gun that’s here and put it on Crey’s boat before the detectives go there today.”

“Where is it?”

“In the building over there.” He pointed at the equipment building.

“How do we get in?”

“I have a friend at the bank, so I have a key.”

“The guy has been offed, and I’m going to walk down the dock, get on his boat, and plant a gun?”

“This way the murders here get solved. They find the gun and figure it out.”

“I don’t want to take a hot gun anywhere.”

“It won’t be so hard. You’re his friend, you’re coming by. People know you’re his friend.” Ludovna pushed keys into Marquez’s palm. “These are all of his keys. Someone asks you just say he’s your friend and you have a key. Lose the keys in the water after you put the gun on the boat. Okay, then like you say, it’s simple. The detective has his killers of Sherri. The FBI solves the case here, and when they go through the van Perry and Torp have been driving, maybe they find another gun that was used here.”

“Is that what’s going to happen?”

“What did I tell you Torp did here?”

“He walked the kids down and shot them.”

“With his gun, and his friend must have helped. Crey told me while we were waiting for you.”

“Right, while I was out in the vines shooting the idiots, Crey was confessing. Bullshit. And you sent Crey to kill me.”

“No, I sent him to check on what happened, to make sure you were okay.” Ludovna got close to Marquez, stood inches from his face. “You murdered him. I saw you murder him. I saw you murder three people. It cost me money because Crey owed me money, and now he’s not there to run the business and pay it back, so maybe you run the boat and the bait shop, or you hire someone and then pay me back.”

“I’m not running any bait shop.”

“You owe the money he owed me, and last night I let you take care of them. Now you owe me. If you have a problem with that, then we have a problem.”

They walked over to the equipment building, and Ludovna opened the door. The orchard machinery was neatly organized inside, and Ludovna led him to one of the tilling machines.

“You have to crawl under. He told me it’s taped under one of these machines.”

It didn’t take that long to find, and now Marquez tried to figure out a way to avoid touching it and contaminating the evidence. He stared at the gun and called back to Ludovna.

“I don’t see it.”

“Okay, check the next machine.”

He checked three machines and then questioned Ludovna. “When did he say this?”

“Last night.”

“Maybe he got confused.”

“He was very specific. He knew the police would find the bodies of Torp and Perry and then they would find Torp’s gun. There were two guns used, this one and Torp’s. Even before you
murdered them he knew because of what I said about Sherri La Belle. She used to come to my house once a week. She’s a prostitute. I was a client, okay, and the police found her book with my name. I told this to the detective, but Crey didn’t know until I came out and saved your life last night.”

Marquez stalled. He scowled, wanted Ludovna to repeat it for the wire.

“I still don’t follow you.”

“The detective has murder warrants for Torp and Perry, okay. Then they’ll go through the van and find the gun used here. They’re not stupid. They’ll figure it out, and when they find the gun you hide on the boat, then they have both guns used here.”

“Why did Crey kill the Raburns?”

“It was about money.”

Ludovna got in his face again now. He got close when Marquez was too quiet.

“This is what you’re going to do because I tell you to and you owe me. I saved your life last night. He chained you so he could drag you with the truck if you won the fights. Then to make sure, he said he was going to run over your head and leave you. It was all because you fucked with his guys, the same as Raburn fucked with him. Look what happened to Raburn. So you owe me your life. Find the gun. I know it’s there.”

“How do you know?”

“You fuck with me and we’re going to have a real problem.” Ludovna pointed to the tilling machine the gun was under. “Check that one again. I don’t want to have to get my coat dirty.”

This time Marquez found the gun and a gas rag in the equipment shed to wrap it in. They walked back to Ludovna’s car.

“I’m going to want you to work sturgeon the same as you have. You’ll take over the boat and the shop and keep what else you have going. I’ll tell you how many pounds of roe we need a week, okay? You set it up and run it. You get 30 percent of what we make. Your job is just the sturgeon but sometimes I’ll ask you to make other deliveries for me. Sometimes you’ll take your boat out on the ocean and pick somebody up. You’ll get paid for that. I have other people I work with, but you won’t talk with them or ask them any questions. You understand?”

“It was Crey’s shop. How do I take it over?”

“I’m a partner. I have the majority, okay. In a couple of years when everything is going well no one will remember what happened last night.” He tapped his chest. “Even I will forget, but first we get everything working.” He got in his car and lowered his window. “Go put the gun on the boat. Everything will be fine.”

“Sure, everything will be great. You have a good day,” Marquez said and watched him drive off.