Deception (7 page)

Back in the van
outside Snake’s place, we wait in silence. The warm afternoon sun beats on the van as Billy, Frank, and I rest in the stationary spot behind the tower. I sit in the back across from Frank as usual. Billy sits alone in the front with his left arm hanging out the window, smoking a cigarette. He peers at his watch and mumbles something to himself in which I can’t make out. He takes one big drag and flicks the cigarette out the window. He fetches some gum from the center console with his right hand while cranking the window closed with his left. He turns to us and tosses the wrapper at my feet.

“It’s time,” Billy says.

Frank perks up like a well-trained dog and cuts my hands free. The callus on my left wrist has split open by the thumb, so I apply pressure to stop the flow of blood. The back door opens and Billy motions for me to follow. Frank starts toward the door too, but is stopped by Billy.

“Not you,” Billy says. “Stay here and be the lookout. Can you do that?”

Frank’s face drops, but he nods and sits back on the bench. Billy leads me around the van, bag in hand. Frank is suddenly in the driver’s seat as we pass by the window. Billy raises his arms, as if to question Frank’s new position. The window rolls down a crack, and Frank pushes his face up to the hole.

“I can’t be the lookout in the back, there ain’t any windows,” Frank says, smirking with pride like he’s just won a bet.

Billy shakes his head. “Honk the horn if you see anything.”

“Okay, boss.”

---

As we approach Snake’s
house, Billy breaks the long silence between us, “I’ll go around the back and you take care of the front. Work your way to the right, and we’ll meet in the middle.”

He debriefed me on the plan earlier, so I have clear instructions on what to do. Snake is gone for a while, but we still have to move quickly. Billy stops and drops the bag in the sand. He pulls out thick strips of foam and hands them to me, piling one on top of the other. He scoops up the bag and disappears around the back. I look to either side of me, and there’s not a thing in site. The van rests in the distance next to the cell tower, but that’s it. Could I out run him? Maybe, but where would I run to? I can’t outrun a van, I know that much, so what choice do I have? I scan the house and locate the first vent on the corner near the foundation.

The strips of foam are cut to size. The metal vent casing houses two horizontal bars that are separated by a few inches of airspace above and below each, with the two bars sharing the middle space. I slide the first piece of foam in the middle slot, pinching it slightly to ensure it fits, leaving a slight bow in the center. Each piece of foam is about six inches too tall, which is by design. I slide the other two pieces into the remaining slots: Bottom first, followed by the top. As explained to me earlier by Billy, I’m able to manually close each horizontal vent bar a bit so that they tightly pinch the foam pieces, ensuring no air can get in or out; that’s why the pieces of foam are a little big, to ensure that all of the gaps are covered.

I make my way along the right side of the house and do the same for the next two vents. I walk around the back expecting to find Billy, but don’t. I peer around the left side corner, but he’s not there either. He’s nowhere to be found.

“All done?” Billy’s voice behind me is startling.

“Where did you go?” I ask.

He’s surprised by my questioning. He points to the ground next him at a bulkhead. “It was unlocked, so I figured I would speed up the process.”

“What do you mean?”

“I made some puncture holes in the pipes.”

“Which pipes?”

“All of them. What does it matter?”

“You’re going to blow the whole place down.” I chuckle to myself. “No money then.”

Billy reaches behind his back and pulls a gun from his belt. He walks toward me and jams it into my forehead, shutting me up. “Fuck off. I know what I’m doing.”

I put my hands up in surrender, but not in a panic like I would have just hours earlier. He’s not going to kill me, he won’t do this alone.

“Fine,” I say.

Billy puts the gun back in his belt. Then, suddenly, a horn bellows in the distance. Billy’s eyes open wide, almost stunned. He turns back to me. “Be cool.” He reaches for his gun again and motions for me to follow him around the front. We creep around the house and I spot some flashing lights near the van.

“Fuck!” Billy says, then he turns to me. “Don’t say a fucking word.”

“Put down your weapon and put your hands up!” a weak voice shouts from the front.

I immediately throw my hands in the air, but Billy rips them back down and grabs a hold of my left wrist. I wince in pain as he strangles my open callus. Billy raises his weapon above his head in a non-threatening manner and hollers out to the voice.

“Don’t shoot, I’m a cop.”

A young uniformed officer crawls out into the open, looking relieved, though still pointing his weapon in our direction.

Billy continues, “I’ll show you. I’m going to reach for my badge. Don’t shoot, okay?”

The officer doesn’t say anything and I can see the gun shaking in his hand as he tries to steady it. He’s really young, right out of the academy I assume. His shirt collar is soaked with perspiration and his uniform is a crisp black with a newly ironed crease on the pants. I wonder if it’s ever been washed. Billy releases my wrist and slowly retrieves his wallet from his back pocket. He flips open the vertical leather cover and flashes a badge.

“I’m officer William Lewis, Topeka Police Department.”

The young officer leans in for a closer look with his gun still pointed. Satisfied with what he sees, he drops the gun to his side and lets out a sigh. Billy flips his badge closed and puts it back in his pocket.

“Boy, am I glad to hear that,” the young officer says. “I’m officer Jimmy Jones, Jefferson PD.”

“Jefferson? What are you doing in Topeka?”

Jimmy is embarrassed. “Quite honestly, today is my first day, and I’m actually a little lost. I’m not from here, I moved in from Oklahoma a couple of weeks ago for the job. I thought I knew a shortcut, but I must be going the wrong direction.”

“Where you headed?”

“I’m trying to go back to the station. My shift is over. Today is, was my first day.”

“Where’s your partner?”

Jimmy shrugs. “No partner today, he’ll be back tomorrow I’m told.”

Billy nods. “Don’t you have GPS in your car?”

“Budget cuts.”

“Typical.”

There is a brief silence. Jimmy looks at me suspiciously and catches my eye. I look away.

“Is he a cop too?”

Billy nods, then looks at me.

“Where are your uniforms?” Jimmy’s hand starts to tense up on the handle of his gun, and I think Billy notices too.

“We’re undercover, staking this place out.” Billy motions to the house next to us. “But listen, we can’t really stay and fiddly-fuck around here, especially not with you in uniform. If he comes home we’re all dead.”

This lights up Jimmy’s eyes and the tension is released from his hand.

“You gotta go, newbie. This is our jurisdiction anyway.” Jimmy tries to put his gun in his holster, but struggles. “Take a right when you get out of here. The main drag will lead you right into Jefferson.”

“Thanks,” Jimmy says, head down, fidgeting with the holster. Finally secured, he looks back up at us and gives us a nod. “Good day, officers.”

Billy nods back and we stand in silence watching Jimmy scamper back to his car. Jimmy peeks in the window of the van before he gets in his car, flicks off the lights, and peels out of site.

As Jimmy pulls away, Frank makes his way from the back of the van and into the front and honks the horn. Even from this distance, I can tell that he has a big grin on his face while he offers a childish wave. Billy waves back, more so of a confirmation that he sees him and less so that he’s willing to admit he actually did something right. We start back toward the van.

“Are you really a cop?” I ask.

He doesn’t look at me, but I can see him grin. “Game changer, isn’t it?”

Alicia, Frank, and I
take rotating showers, throw some clothes on, and pile into the van. I agree to stop by Alicia’s apartment downtown so she can gather up some clothes and various other feminine needs. Frank and I wait in the van for nearly twenty minutes before she reemerges, wearing a fresh outfit and carrying a leather bag filled with whatever it is she thinks she needs. She hops in the passenger’s side and tosses the bag in the back, nearly hitting Frank with it. I wait for the apology for the time it takes, but it doesn’t come.

“Are we going?” she asks.

I start the engine without responding. I pull into the busy street from the on-street parking spot in front of the apartment complex and head east toward the public library.

It’s midday on a Saturday afternoon and the library is relatively quiet, just as I expected it would be. I’m looking for a specific type of person for the job at hand. We need someone who is intellectual enough to keep up, but not more intelligent than I am. He needs to be easy to manipulate and control, but strong enough to handle himself. Finally and perhaps most importantly, we need someone lonely who would do just about anything for the companionship of a woman.

That’s where Alicia comes in.

She needs to seduce and hook the unsuspecting victim, then I’ll reel him in. I have no doubt in her ability to hook someone, even if it’s just on physical attraction alone. As for me and my role, well, that’s really the least of my worries. The difficult part will be finding the right guy.

The three of us sit at a round table near the perimeter of the library and scan the room. The library is grand and the shelves are stocked full of books of all sizes, shapes, and genres. There are high ceilings and large windows, which brings heaps of natural light into the center of the room and disperses it throughout the isles. I grab a stack of books from the shelf behind me and spread them across the table.

“Look busy,” I say, handing a book to Frank. Alicia also takes one from the stack, as do I. We hold the books up to our faces and pretend to read while we people-watch.

A young couple sits across from us at a similar table, holding hands and whispering to one another. A middle-aged mother and her two children wander around the young adult section. A group of women browse the romance section near the counter. In the fiction section near the corner of the library is a single guy. He’s reasonably physically attractive I guess, average height and medium-build. He looks like any regular guy you’d pass on the street and not even notice. He could have something to offer with a reasonable effort. Either he doesn’t care or he doesn’t get it. He looks almost lost over there by himself, and I may feel bad for him under different circumstance.

This could be our guy.

“Hey, look,” I say quietly, getting Alicia’s attention. “Check it out.” I motion in the direction of the loner in the corner. Alicia checks him out from head to toe and I can tell she’s considering him.

“He’s not too bad,” she says, nodding. “He might be worth a shot.” She puts her book down and rises from her seat. She smoothens her jeans with her palms and straightens the light jacket that covers her blouse. “Wish me luck.” She glides across the carpeted floor with confidence and heads toward the target. Her hips sway with each step, and she looks like a model strutting down the runway toward the photographers at the other end. Frank and I lower our books slightly and observe the action.

---

It’s been a long
day. I knew Alicia was going to be good, but I didn’t know she was going to be this good. She has really embraced her role. She spends the entire afternoon with this guy in the library, and she almost seems to be genuinely interested in him. By the early evening, the conversation moves out of the library and into a coffee shop across the street.

Frank and I had planned to wait outside the library in the van until Alicia came out, but it’s gone on for too long. By 7:00 P.M. we’re both famished, so we enter the coffee shop and order ourselves some grub. It looks like Alicia might have a stroke when she sees us enter the coffee shop and sit in the booth connected to hers. Frank and I eat in silence and eavesdrop on the conversation behind us.

We eat as slowly as we can, but pastries and homemade baked goods only last for so long. We leave the shop and wait in the van for another hour before Alicia finally emerges. It feels like we’re staking out the joint while we sit in the parking lot of the library with the lights off in the van.

While in the coffee shop, Alicia used our guy’s name during conversation, strategically I think, so it gives me something to do while waiting for her.

George Sanders has no criminal record, no speeding tickets, and no negative marks on his credit report. I run his name and plates through the police database that I’m able to link to from my mobile phone that is paid for by the taxpayers. I discover that he doesn’t appear to have any family around and he doesn’t participate it any of the popular social networking sites. He’s a banker with a college degree and a lifelong resident of the city. As far as I can tell, this guy is a nobody.

He’s ordinary, dull, and forgettable.

He’s perfect.

Across the street, Alicia slides into George’s car and he pulls away shortly thereafter. I start the van and trail the Honda Civic, keeping a good distance between us as it obeys all traffic laws until it arrives at a sprawled out housing community a few miles from the center of town. I drive by the compact ranch and get a visual of Alicia without stopping. I park the van a few hundred feet past the driveway and wait.

---
 

A few hours later
, Frank’s snores wake me, bringing me to the realization that I too had fallen asleep. The illuminated clock in the center console provides a small glimpse of light in the van. It’s 2:33 A.M. I check my phone: No messages from Alicia. She apparently has decided to make herself comfortable and is staying the night. That wasn’t part of the plan, and quite frankly, it isn’t necessary. I’m a little perplexed at her for thinking she has the authority to make these types of decisions. Or maybe it’s jealousy, or envy. Maybe I want her to give me the attention George is getting, even if it’s not sincere.

I’ll give her another couple hours before I send her a message. For all I know, they could still be up talking, so I can’t risk blowing this opportunity. I set myself an alarm as a reminder before trying to fall back asleep. She needs to be out of there before George wakes up in the morning, and she will be.

I’ll make sure of it.