Dead Red (39 page)

“Get off at the next exit and head back to the Burg.”

“What the hell—” He’d hung up again. Jack slammed the steering wheel with both hands, but took the next exit and got back on the road, going in the other direction. “Fucking shithead,” he said. “I don’t like this, Ray.”

Like I was enjoying myself.
“Just stay—” The phone rang again. This time I stayed quiet and waited for Jimmy to speak.

“No pouting now, Ray. Just making sure you didn’t reach out to your uncle or anyone and get all clever on me.”

“We’re good, Jimmy.”

“You
are
good, Ray. Take the last exit before the bridge, and head over to the creek. Find a place to park, and I’ll call you back in three.”

The Newtown Creek: famous for the dumping of toxic waste, weapons used in crimes, and victims of serial killers. Someday it was going to be a real Brooklyn tourist attraction. We drove a few blocks and pulled into a dirt parking lot between two warehouses just as Jimmy called back.

“Stay right there,” he said. “I’m right behind you.”

We got out of the car and walked to the trunk. I wanted to take a deep breath, but our proximity to the creek made me think twice. A minivan pulled into the lot, Jimmy behind the wheel. No sign of Edgar or Marissa. Jimmy swung the van around and pulled its back up to ours. Then he got out, slid open the side door, and pulled Edgar out. Edgar’s face was blank. I’d never seen that look on him before. He was scared.

“Good to see you again, Ray,” said Jimmy.

“Go fuck yourself, Jimmy.”

Edgar and he stayed by the van. Jimmy pressed a button on his keychain, and his back door opened. Seeing this, Jack opened the trunk of our car.

“Quickly,” Jimmy said.

“Wait,” I shouted. “Where’s the girl?”

“You’ll see her after you load in my guns.” He motioned with his head at Edgar. “I’m just showing him as a gesture of good faith.”

“You’re a real gem,” Jack said as he loaded the duffel bag into Jimmy’s van.

“Now step away, Jack,” Jimmy said. “I need to do some counting.”

Jack stepped back, and I gave Edgar a look that said everything was going to be all right. Jimmy unzipped the bag, reached inside, and took a minute to inventory its contents. When he turned around, he did not look happy.

“You fucking playing a game with me, Ray?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Those are your guns, right?”

“They’re
half
of my guns.” He slammed his hand against the side of the van and pulled a gun out of his waist holster with the other. “You don’t wanna fuck with me right now, guys!”

“We’re not fucking with you, Jimmy,” Jack said. “These are what were in the shed upstate. Ricky stashed them at his brother’s place.”

Jimmy took in that information and grinned. “Pretty good thinking,” he said. “But I’m still short twenty guns. That wasn’t our deal.”

“Our
deal,
” I said, “was to give you what we
have
in exchange for Edgar and Marissa. We kept up our end.”

Jimmy shook his head. “Not good enough, Ray. Looks as if Ricky’s screwing you from the great beyond.” He walked over to Edgar and put his hand on his back. Jimmy tapped the gun against Edgar’s arm. Edgar closed his eyes and wobbled. I thought he was about to fall when Jimmy pushed him toward us. I caught him, and he collapsed in my arms.

“I get half,” Jimmy said. “You get half.”

Jack took a step forward and stopped when Jimmy raised his gun.

“I can drop you right here, Jack, and your buddies, too. Both of you take your guns out and toss ’em in the water. Real slow.”

I could tell by the look on Jack’s face that he was measuring the distance between himself and Jimmy’s gun. He was also weighing the odds of reaching for his own piece. They were not good, but Jack was not known for always making the good decision. I said, “Jack.” He turned. “Don’t.”

He stared at me for a bit. Then he reached behind his back, took out his gun, turned around, and threw it into the creek.

“That’s it, Jimmy. I’m not carrying,” I said before lifting my shirt to show my belt line and my pants legs.

Jimmy nodded. “Now get back in your car.”

He held the gun on us while Jack got back in the driver’s seat and I helped Edgar into the backseat. I opened my door then stopped.

“What about Marissa?” I asked Jimmy.

“Don’t know yet, Ray. I’ll see what info I can get from her. If she can get me the rest of my merchandise, she’ll be good to go.”

“And if she can’t?”

He just grinned again. “Don’t leave for five minutes, Jack. I see you behind me, and the girl’s dead.” He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it to me. A phone. “That’s hers,” he said. “In case you had any thoughts about tracking us.”

Jimmy got into his van and drove away. Jack started the car.

I slipped Marissa’s phone into my pocket, leaned inside the car window, and said, “He said not to follow.”

“They always say not to follow,” Jack said. “Get in.”

“We’re fucked here, Jack. We’re fucked!” I slammed the roof of the car and, for the second time that day, hurt my hand. “I think we gotta call the cops.”

Jack shook his head, unwilling to admit defeat. Normally, I’d consider that an admirable quality, but this time that attitude could get people killed.

“Get in the car, Ray,” Jack said evenly.

“Jack. I don’t think Ricky would want us to put Marissa at risk.”

“Ricky’s the reason Marissa’s
at risk,
asshole. First he gets involved with that scumbag. Then he can’t even back out without getting himself killed!” Jack gripped the steering wheel, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. “Where the hell would he put the other half of the guns? His mom’s?”

“No,” I said. “He wouldn’t take that risk, but I’d bet anything Jimmy’s the one who broke into her house.”

“Then where?”

I figured if I stalled, just one more minute, any idea Jack had of following Jimmy would be moot. I walked around in a circle outside the car, thinking. When I was done, I got back in.

“I think I have an idea,” I said.

“Well,” Jack said, putting the car in Drive. “Feel free to share it at any fucking time, Ray.”

I did, and Jack left a cloud of dust between us and the creek.

Chapter 33

EDGAR WAS STILL SHAKING WHEN we dropped him off at his car and told him to go home. As much as he dug this detective shit in theory, he apparently needed a vacation from it. Jack took the time to call Charles Golden. Everything seemed to be fine inside the condo. Angela was in one bedroom watching TV, and Joseph was watching the front door. When Golden pressed him for details of our last hour, Jack hung up.

*   *   *

We were parked in Joseph’s car down the block from the house we’d been to earlier this week. I rolled my window down as Jack reached under his seat and pulled out another gun.

“I was a boy scout for three weeks,” he said. “Always be prepared.”

“Now what?”

“You’re sure they’re in there?” He motioned with his head at the house.

“I’m not sure of anything at this point. But there were few places Ricky felt comfortable after getting back. This is one of them.”

Jack nodded. “So we go in, and…”

“Last time I had to be
let
in. That’s when I met the pit bull. Maybe there’s a way in from the back.”

Jack opened up his door. “One way to find out.” He slipped his gun into the waistband of his jeans as I followed him. “Stay here,” he said. “I’m gonna take a quick stroll past the house.”

“Be careful,” I said. “Dog Guy recognized you last time.”

He didn’t answer, and I watched as he casually walked past the front of the house and stopped two doors down. He must have seen something, because he started jogging back to me with a grin on his face.

“You ain’t gonna believe this.”

“What?”

“Front door’s open. Just about an inch, but it’s open. Radio’s on pretty loud.”

I thought about that. “Someone must have been in a hurry.”

“Looks like your hunch mighta been right.” He took out his gun and flattened it against his leg. “Wanna make a home visit?”

“I wanna call the cops.”

“We’ll call the cops after.”

After what?
I thought, then followed Jack, who was already running back.

We made our way up the front steps and stopped when we got to the door. We listened for ten seconds but heard nothing but the loud music coming from the radio. Jack eased the door open and we slipped inside, careful not to let the door close behind us. Jack took a glance over my shoulder and mouthed, “What the fuck?”

I turned. Bates, the pit bull that had terrified my testicles a few days ago, was lying on the floor in front of the couch. He was bleeding from his head, clearly dead. His owner, Dog Guy, was in a similar predicament on the couch. I stepped over, saw the pool of blood gathering on the cushion, and felt his neck. No pulse, but the flesh was warm.

I looked at Jack, shook my head, and mouthed the word, “Cops.”

He shook his head and pointed to the staircase. He did that walking thing with his fingers, telling me he was going to go upstairs. “Stay here,” he whispered, not waiting for an answer. Then Jack climbed the stairs.

I walked around the staircase and found the kitchen. I could still hear the music, but less so. There was a door to the right of the fridge. I assumed it was a pantry or some sort of storage area. It was obviously the newest addition to the kitchen. Through the kitchen windows, I could see the backyards of the brownstones on the other block. I could also see into some of the neighbors’ windows. Did they know what went on in this house? Had anyone ever called the cops?

I thought I heard footsteps and turned, expecting to see Jack back from checking out the upstairs. I was wrong. The door next to the fridge opened and out stepped Jimmy Key. He had a duffel bag over his shoulder and held a terrified Marissa by the elbow. In his other hand was his gun. He laughed when he saw me.

“I can see why Ricky went to you for help,” he said. “You are one resourceful individual, Raymond.” He looked around. “Where’s Jack?”

“He’s checking out Ricky’s mom’s house,” I lied, surprising myself at how quickly I did so. I looked at the bag over his shoulder and then at Marissa. Jimmy had found his guns. “Now that you got what you want, are you going to live up to your end of the deal?”

He smiled. “
I
found the guns, Ray. So
I
get to keep the girl. At least until I get where I’m going. A little insurance never hurt anyone, right?”

“She’s pregnant, Jimmy. Keep her out of it.”

He took a step forward and laughed again. I was getting tired of it. “One,” he said, “she’s in it until I say different. Two, she ain’t as pregnant as you thought.”

I felt my forehead collapse and my eyebrows try to meet in the middle. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Tell him,
chica
.” He shook Marissa by the elbow. “Tell your friend Ray here what you told me.”

The look on Marissa’s face turned from complete fear to one mixed with shame. When Jimmy shook her again, harder this time, she spoke up.

“I lied,” she said, barely above a whisper. “To Ricky.” She looked down at the faded tile on the kitchen floor. “I’m not pregnant.”

“What?” I said. She didn’t lift her head, so I took a step forward. “
What?
”

Jimmy raised his gun, stopping me. “You heard right, Ray. Little Marissa here told a big fat lie to our friend Ricky.”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

She looked up. “It got
you
here, didn’t it?” she said. “I wanted out. I knew Ricky liked me, he told me after we … He told me about his girl in Iraq and the baby. He wanted a family.” She stared me in the eyes. Hers were cold now, the shame gone. “So I gave him one.”

“You bitch!” came out of my mouth. “You made one up!”

“Easy now, Ray,” Jimmy said. “We’ve all done stuff we ain’t too proud of, right? Girl wanted to say good-bye to the life, she did what she knew how to do to get what she wanted. Oooh.” He gave a fake shudder. “First female to ever do that? Huh?”

“Jesus,” I said to Marissa. “You’re the reason Ricky’s dead. He never would’ve gotten himself involved in”—I looked at Jimmy with disgust—“
this
if he didn’t feel that he needed to provide for—”

“That’s enough, Ray,” Jimmy said. “The past is the past. What you need to worry about now is your immediate future. And this girl’s.”

“Fuck the girl,” I said, disgusted now by my words and how true they felt.

“Ricky already took care of that, didn’t he?” said Jimmy.

He slipped the bag off his shoulder and placed it on the floor. Without looking, he reached behind him and opened the door he’d come out of and then stepped aside. “I need you to go downstairs, Ray.”

I looked over at the door and realized that not only was it brand-new, but it had two locks on it. I mentally kicked myself for thinking it was a pantry.

“You tried to kill me once already, Jimmy, when my girlfriend was over,” I said. “Having a bad night that night, were you?”

“If I wanted you dead, Ray, you’d be dead. I had Little Mike on the roof behind your place. He called me when you were in the living room. I put two shots in your bedroom wall just to shake things up.”

“It worked,” I said. I looked at the door behind him and wanted to keep the conversation going.
Where the fuck was Jack?

“Why’d you shoot Dillman in the shoulder the night you killed Ricky? And what’d Dillman do to piss you off enough you had to put one between his eyes?”

“The first time? A diversion. Then, I thought he knew where Ricky hid my guns. Turned out he didn’t know shit. He became … a liability.” He pointed to the door with his gun. “Now…”

“I’m not going downstairs. I got a feeling I might not be coming back up.”

He shrugged. “It’s either the basement or.…” He showed me the gun again.

“What happens to Marissa?”

“See?” Jimmy said with a smile to Marissa. “He
does
care.” Then, to me, “I’m not sure. I’ll make that decision when I’m about a hundred miles north of here.”