Shooting Stars (28 page)

T
he worst position to
be in, besides being hung upside down while rats peck at your head, is having no one to turn to when you need help the most. But I guess when you’re in that rat scenario you, presumably, also have no one to turn to. So I guess they’re one in the same. My parents would be useless. And I tried to get in contact with Eddie, but he wouldn’t pick up the phone. I hope he didn’t do anything drastic when he got fired. This job meant the world to him. He’s probably sitting in his childhood bedroom, dressed up in his little suit, with his stuffed animals on his bed, doing pension calculations for retired Care Bears. Poor kid. Or worse, Jake might’ve sent him to jail. He wouldn’t last fifteen minutes.

I’m not even sure help is going to show up. And I don’t really blame her. It’s eleven o’clock at night, and it might be a little dangerous for her to come out all alone this late. But I chose this brightly lit coffee shop so she wouldn’t think I was up to any funny business. That still hasn’t kept her for having me wait for her for forty-five minutes already; the three hazelnut lattes I’ve had aren’t helping my nerves any either. The caffeine has me jumpy, like I’m on PCP, but as I’m about to leave, Chloe walks in.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” I say as she takes a seat.

“What’d you think, I’d already be on my way to rehab?”

“Well . . .”

“On my way here I tried to figure out the correct words to say to you. And all I could come up with is . . . fuck you . . . fuck you, Kevin.” People turn around and look at our table.

I knew she’d be upset, but didn’t anticipate this upset. “Okay, I deserve that.”

“Don’t interrupt me. I’m not done yet. You couldn’t beat me for the job fair and square?” she says.

How’d she know I was behind it?

“Don’t give me that innocent face,” she says. “You set me up. I know you did it, and I know why.”

Maybe she’ll sympathize with my plight if I come out and tell her. “I needed the job. Like, I really needed it.” She’s not buying it. “And you’re better than me. Happy now?”

“No, I’m not happy. My boss thinks I’m a drug-using prostitute.”

“It could be worse,” I say.

“How? How could it be worse, exactly?”

I have nothing. “You have your health.” She doesn’t laugh. “What do you want me to do now? I’m sorry—that’s not enough?”

“No, it’s not,” she says.

“I promise to make it up to you . . . somehow. But I need your help.”

She gets up from the table. “I can’t believe you. You ruin my life, and now you want me to help you steal Social Security numbers? Or, better yet, why don’t we go out and steal deaf people’s hearing aids?”

My mouth drops. “You know about that?”

“Of course, I’m in the office all hours of the day and night. I see everything,” she says.

“Well, if you did, then you’d know it was Jake and not me.”

“Yeah, I’ve only seen him. But I would’ve thought he’d rope you in somehow, because you’re pretty much his bitch.”

“Hey.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Okay, maybe that was harsh. But I knew it was all Jake. One night I saw him stealing documents straight from the security recycling bins. When I asked him what he was doing, he got all defensive and said he was disposing them for the janitors because they had a lot to do. But it was pretty obvious. He didn’t do a good job of being discreet, until he started getting the information straight from the databases. It looked like he was using removable USB flash drives. I don’t think I am the only one who’s caught him doing something suspicious either. I’ve heard a lot of talk around the office. Dontrelle, Ted, even old Aida had a story,” she says.

How am I the only one that missed this for so long? I thought I was the closest to Jake. “It was his idea to get you fired too. I found out he even ran Floyd off.”

“How do you know that?” she says.

“Floyd told me outside of my condo about an hour ago.”

She takes a second to process what I just told her. “It all makes sense. Of course he would want to get rid of anyone who could jeopardize his operation.”

Dammit, he was using me for his fucking plan. And I didn’t even know it. I was blinded by that promotion and raise. “I need your help. We need to clear my name.”

“‘We’?” she replies.

I correct myself. “
I
need your help. I can’t do it by myself. And I can trust you.”

“But I can’t trust you,” she says.

“Sure you can,” I say as I smile at her.

C
hloe suggested
I get concrete evidence to hand over to the feds. That’s why we’re both sitting in my car outside of Jake’s headquarters. She must feel really sorry for me, because I can’t come up with any other reason she’d be here with me.

“What am I looking for again?” I say.

“Anything you can get your hands on. Lists. Paperwork. Contracts. Computer disks. Files. . . . You sure you don’t want me to come in there with you?” she says as she looks at the building.

I point outside to the grim surroundings. “It’s not safe. It’s better you stay in the car. If I don’t come back in fifteen minutes, leave, okay?”

“Sure,” she swiftly replies.

“Well, you didn’t have to agree so quickly.” She shrugs. “I mean, you could’ve resisted. Suggested maybe to come in after me. Something.”

“No, if you don’t come out in fifteen minutes, I’m going to assume something bad has happened to you. And I’m going to leave and go home,” she says. “If it’s any help, you should know the farther I drive, the more horrific I’m going to imagine the acts that were performed on you. Beating, raping, waterboarding—”

“How’s that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know, but that’s how my mind works.”

“But what if something like that is happening to me? You’ll just go home? You won’t even go to the police?”

“That’s what I meant. I’ll go to the police,” she says.

“That’s better. I guess. I don’t believe you, but at least you said it.”

“You’re wasting time,” she says.

“All right,” I say, as I get out of the car.

“You’re taking the keys? What if I want to listen to the radio?”

“No, that might draw attention to the car. Plus, if you’re going to flee, you should probably leave on foot. You never know, I might break out of whatever torturous imprisonment they have me in and would need my car to escape.”

I walk toward the shady building. I appreciate her help and all, but she’s not leaving me stranded here. That’s how I ended up in this place. Trusting people. Who knows what motive she has for helping me. I’ll figure it out soon enough.

When I get inside, I turn the lights on. The place looks like a barren shithole, as opposed to the cluttered shithole I’ve visited before. There are no file cabinets, computers, or diagrams on the walls. Nothing. “Hello. Jake? Anybody here?”

I don’t know where to look, but I move around frantically. Trying to get out of here as fast as possible, but find something at the same time, even though I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for. All I see are blank pieces of paper and empty cans of Spam. A stack of boxes in the corner looks promising. I open them up, but they’re filled with nothing but packing popcorn. The computer monitor and keyboard are over in the corner, but the hard drive is gone.

“What are you doing?” Shifty says. He startles the shit out of me. He must’ve been lurking in the shadows, like he always is.

“Have you seen Jake?” I ask as he staggers toward me.

“What are you doing?” he repeats. He has a knack for asking the same question twice. “Why are you going through his stuff? Jake said you’d come for my Spam. That’s why I ate it all.”

“Spam?” I shake his questions off. “Let me know where Jake is.”

“No Spam for you, you lil’ bitch,” he says.

“Fuck off, Boo Radley. This is important.” He keeps coming toward me, like a zombie with mismatched clothes.

“I’m the guard dog of this place. I get a bag of Doritos and a sixty-four-ounce of Old English for every week there isn’t a break in, and I’m not letting you fuck that up.”

“I’m not stealing . . . they make a sixty-four-ounce?” Shifty throws an empty liquor bottle at me and the bottle shatters. I guess they do make a sixty-four-ounce.

“And it’s the
big bag
of Doritos too,” he roars like a T. rex, as he lunges at me with a maniacal look in his eyes.

We lock arms. I’m a lot stronger than an old drunk man, so I’m able to subdue him a bit. Then, I begin to punch him repeatedly in the stomach. I know my blows are getting to him, because he’s frail and I can feel his ribs with my knuckles. When I think he’s had enough, I stop pummeling him.

“Okay, ready to calm down?” I ask.

As he stands bent over from the stomach punches, he looks up at me. And just when I think this vile man is about to surrender, he spits in my face. I can’t see where he is. Why does his saliva burn my eyes? He takes my temporary blindness as the perfect opportunity to start punching me in the face and side of the head. He then puts me into a headlock. I manage to gather myself and body-slam him into the desk. I’m lucky he weighs less than a buck twenty-five. It’s amazing what it took to defeat this man, but he’s probably hopped up on so much shit that he doesn’t feel pain. I find some rope and tie him to the radiator.

“Now, let’s try this again. Where’s Jake?”

“I don’t know. You think he’d tell a crackhead where he’s going?” Shifty says. “I work for Doritos and Spam, you shithead.” Then, he vomits on himself.

As the smell of vomit wafts in the air, I realize Shifty does have a point. I head outside, hoping my car is still out there, and Chloe too, for that matter. They’re both there. She looks relieved to see me, from what I can tell.

“I was seriously about to leave ten minutes ago, but I couldn’t get out. Some midget with a ponytail told me he was the perfect height to eat me like a pint of lo mein. Then, he jumped on the hood of your car and peed all over it,” she says. She takes a look at me and notices the scratches and bruises on my face. “Hey, what happened?”

I take this as a chance to seem capable and manly. “Nothing, a punk jumped up to get beat down.”

“Jake?”

“No, he wasn’t in there. Nothing was in there, really. I couldn’t find a thing. He must’ve known people were on to him.” My phone rings. I look at the caller ID and see it’s Jake. I look at Chloe, pretending I knew he’d call. But it was all luck.

“Answer the phone, fool,” she says.

I compose myself and click the answer button. “Hello.”

“Hey, what’s up, buddy? Sorry I haven’t returned any of your calls,” he says.

“Where’ve you been?”

He pauses, then says, “I’ve been cleaning up a few things. I can’t really get into it right now.”

Good, he doesn’t know I’m on to him. “I’ve been looking for you for a reason. Got some stuff for you,” I say. I’m making this shit up as I go along. I probably should’ve thought out a plan before I answered the phone. “Numbers . . . numbers, man.”

“Huh?”

“Hunter asked me today if I could help him on this special project. He needed me test the company’s new friendly do-it-yourself website on a new client with highly compensated VIP employees,” I say.

“So?”

“So, he gave me a list of two thousand VIP executives. Never been touched. Complete, detailed information on each one. And there’s more new clients on the way with the same info.”

There’s a silence. I think he might’ve dropped his phone. “Okay . . . okay. When can I get that?” he says. When he picked up the phone, the calm, collected Jake had left and had been replaced with a jumpy version that I’m unfamiliar with.

“Hold on. We can get a lot for these.”

“We sure can. I’m a call my people right now after I get off with you,” he says.

“I want to meet them,” I say.

“What?”

“I want to meet them.”

“No need for that. They don’t like new faces. I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sure,” I say. “But I still want to meet them. I got the numbers, this is my thing. Let’s meet your people together.”

Another brief silence as he thinks it over and realizes he’s in no position to bargain with me. “Okay, I’ll see if I can get them tonight. It’s short notice, but I’ll do what I can do.”

“We’ll meet at Fun-2-Sea Land,” I say.

“Sure . . . whatever,” he says and hangs up.

I smile at Chloe. She’s impressed at my performance. Shit, I’m impressed at my performance. I played that pretty well.

“So what do you do now?” Chloe says.

“I know a guy who’ll help me out.”

F
un-2-Sea Land
can be quite the enchanting and lively place during the day, but at two o’clock in the morning it’s kinda scary. Dark and desolate. And there are all these stuffed animals and clowns just staring at you. Not to mention the ornate and weirdly colored horses on the merry-go-round, but I didn’t pick this place for the decor. It’s because I know the ins and outs of the whole park, in case Jake or his people try something.

“You bring the stuff?” I hear Jake say. I turn around, and he’s standing alone, looking as normal as if he’s leaning over my cubicle and asking where we are going for lunch.

“Right here.” I show him the USB drive. “Where’s your connects?”

“They should be here any minute now,” he says. “They’re on time most of the time.”

I look at my watch.

“Were you nervous?” he says.

“With what?” I say.

“Lifting that file. You know you can’t steal. I bet your heart was beating a mile a minute,” he says.

I laugh. “Not at all.” If this USB drive didn’t have porn on it and did have a file, I guess I would’ve been nervous stealing it. But I’m fucking petrified right now.

“Can I see it?”

“Nope, let me hold on to it,” I say. He thinks about coming back and trying to persuade me otherwise, but he doesn’t. “You know how it is,” I say. Then, I shoot him a sly grin.

“Yeah . . . I know how.” He looks over my shoulder. “Here they are.”

Two men who look to be in their early forties approach us, wearing casual clothes, as if they threw on the first thing they could find after waking up. Then, I remember it’s early in the morning. They probably did just that.

“The one with the sunglasses is Ron, and the other dude is Phil,” Jake says.

“Hey, guys,” I say.

“Don’t talk,” Jake says.

“You vouch for this guy?” Phil asks Jake.

“He’s good. Don’t worry about it,” he says.

“Let’s make this quick,” Ron says. “Where’s the stuff?”

“I got everything right here,” I say, showing the USB drive. “The money?”

“Don’t talk,” Jake says.

“Fuck off, this is my show,” I tell him. I turn back to Ron and Phil. “These are the best we have right now. All highly compensated. All with big-time pensions. Most getting at least ten thousand dollars a month. Complete with direct-deposit info and everything.”

“Excellent,” Phil says.

Ron hands Jake a gym bag. I’m guessing that was another last-minute selection. I expected a briefcase, but oh well, this’ll do.

“What’s in the briefcase?” I ask Jake. Ron and Phil start laughing at us. “Is that the money?” Jake nods. I hand the USB drive over to Phil. “How much did we get? Wait, we didn’t even negotiate. My cut is still seventy percent, right?” I keep reaching for the bag, but Jake won’t let me have it.

Ron and Phil both stop laughing. “What’s his deal? You better control your puppy,” Phil says.

“Something ain’t right,” Ron says.

I stop trying to reach for the bag. “If you want more where that came from, I’d mind my business, bitch boy. This is between us,” I tell Ron.

“Fucking chill, man. You’ll get yours. You’re making us look like amateurs,” Jake says.

“He’s mental,” Phil says. “Look at him.”

“Let’s go,” Ron says.

“No one leaves until I get my money,” I say. Ron and Phil start to walk off. “Don’t you fucking move.”

“Don’t mess this up,” Jake says.

I sense I’m losing grip of my plan. “You would say that, wouldn’t you? Take care of me. What are you gonna do? Kill me just like you did Eddie? Are your FBI friends watching us now?” I motion to the sky. “You didn’t know he was working with the feds, did you?” I ask Ron and Phil. “You check him for a wire?”

“What?” Ron says. He starts to look around.

“Is that true?” Phil asks Jake.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Jake says.

A red laser beam appears on Phil’s shirt.

“What’s that?” Ron says, pointing to the beam.

A deathly look comes on Phil’s face.

“Oh shit, they got snipers on us,” I say.

Ron and Phil both pull out handguns. Ron points his gun at me, and Phil does the same to Jake.

“You set us up,” Phil says.

“No. He set us up,” Jake says, pointing to me.

“You motherfuckers start talking. I ain’t about to go to jail for this snitch,” I say as I point to Jake.

Lights start flashing in the park. The rides turn on and start to make noise. The theme-park music is blasting over the speakers. Everyone is blinded. Floyd appears out of the lights. Jake sees him and is shocked. Floyd makes a mad dash for Jake.

“Jack move, my nigga!” Floyd screams as he leaps on Jake like a baby gorilla.

Jake and Floyd wrestle on the ground as I look around for Ron and Phil. They’re trying to escape under the commotion. There’s no point in me going after them; plus, what could I do if I catch them, besides serve as target practice? I need to get Jake, who’s still going at it with Floyd. He knocks Floyd off him and pulls out a handgun from his overcoat. He stands up and shoots Floyd twice in the chest.

“What are you doing?” I scream.

Jake points the gun at me. “Like always, you seem to fuck everything up,” Jake says.

Floyd is groaning and writhing in pain on the ground. Jake puts two more shots into him. He stops moving. I take that as my opening to start running. I run in a zigzag motion so he can’t get a clear shot at me. The bullets whiz by. I can’t believe he’s shooting at me. I go to hide behind the carnival games and see Chloe running toward me.

“I heard shots,” she says. “I thought you were dead. I started to leave, but then I felt bad after that guilt trip you gave me earlier.” She sees Jake coming toward us with a gun and ducks behind the carnival game too. “Dammit! I should’ve left.”

“Who comes
towards
gunshots?” I say. “That was a stupid decision.”

“Who’s that on the ground?” she says as she peeks around the table.

“Floyd,” I whisper. I motion for her to keep quiet.

“Now I understand. You went from being controlled by one bitch to being controlled by another. What a fucking sucker,” Jake says as he probes the area for us. “I tried to free you from bitch control.”

I should’ve picked a better hiding spot or coerced my feet into running, but not now since I have Chloe with me. It’s a lot harder to escape. Whom am I kidding? She’s probably faster than me.

I look around the corner, and he’s not there. I look back at Chloe, ready to motion her to make a break for it, and he’s pointing his gun right at her head.

“You had to betray me,” Jake says.

“Leave her alone. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

He keeps the gun on her.

“It’s between me and you. I got a little scared. We still got the money. Everything is all good,” I say.

“I could always tell when you were lying,” he says. “It’s so obvious.”

“No, it’s the truth. Chloe is a genius. She’s been running all these different hustles past me,” I say. “She’s got connections. Major connections.” I look at Chloe. She starts nodding, even though her body is rife with fear. “All of her old Ivy League classmates. That’s old money right there. Imagine if we get in with those people. Not these two goofballs. That’s small potatoes.”

Jake pauses. It’s like he’s mulling it over.

“I can do all of that. I know CEOs, hedge-fund managers, big real-estate moguls,” she says.

“Keep talking,” he says.

“That’s why we’re here. I was trying to run off those jokers Ron and Phil. That’s small money. You always talking about the big picture. I’m bringing you the big picture,” I say.

“You must think I’m an idiot,” he says. He points the gun right at my chest. “I’m the smart one. You’re the dumb ass. Don’t try to switch roles now. I’m sorry, but I have to do—”

A cloud of smoke blinds all of us. The gun goes off. Chloe and I run in opposite directions. A man dressed in a black outfit pulls Jake’s arm close to him and head-butts him. Jake drops the gun. The man follows with a karate chop to Jake’s neck and subdues him with some sort of wrestling arm takedown maneuver. The man takes off his mask; it’s the pharmacy worker, Ray. I knew Chloe and I couldn’t do it alone, and I called him right before I came here for added muscle. When I didn’t have anyone to turn to, I looked in my pocket and saw his card, which read “graphic designer/martial artist/vigilante/Walgreens professional clerk.” The weirdest card I’ve ever seen, but it was worth a shot. He was more than willing to come have my back.

Ray, Chloe, and I walk toward the parking lot. Ray is carrying an unconscious Jake. “He should be out for a few minutes,” he says.

I now know not to fuck with Ray.

Looks like the feds made it right in time to do absolutely nothing. I open the door to the white van parked in the lot. Inside are the three agents and an adolescent boy with his shirt off and a red bandana tied around his head, holding a rubber commando knife. The agent who was driving is now holding a handheld camera. They must not have thought I was serious enough to show up, because they are startled when the door opens.

“I knew you were molesters,” I say.

The one agent puts down the camera.

The man with the beard says, “We were making a
Lil’ Rambo
short film. It’s for a school project. Helping this kid out.”

I see at the scared kid shiver as he mouths the words
help me
.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I say.

“But it was tasteful,” the bald black agent says.

I cover my ears. “Here’s your criminal,” I say as Ray drops Jake on the pavement outside of the van. “You would’ve gotten his connections, but you were in here doing strange after-school-special-villain-type shit.”

The agent with the beard handcuffs Jake. I hold out my voice recorder. “That’s all the evidence you’ll need.” The bald agent reaches for the voice recorder. I don’t want him to touch me, because I don’t know where his hands have been. I drop the recorder into his palm.

The agent with the beard leans closer to me after Jake is cuffed. “This
Lil’ Rambo
thing, can you keep it between us?”

“You’re never gonna bother me again, right?”

He nods. Then, right as they’re pulling off, more gunshots. Everyone ducks down. We look up and Eddie’s there holding a gun, with Ron and Phil in handcuffs.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I say

“Just doing my job,” Eddie says.

We all get up from our various ducking positions. I hoped the feds would’ve reacted a little bit better, but they were all sprawled out in the van, just like us civilians. But then again, I also would’ve hoped they weren’t molesters.

“You know this isn’t a part of your job description,” I tell Eddie.

He pulls out his wallet and flashes a badge. “I’m a cop.”

“You’re leaving STD to become a cop?” I say.

He shakes his head. “No, always have been a cop. I’m a part of a special task force of young, almost teenage-looking, police. I go undercover as an unassuming mark and get whatever information we need. For this case, it was fraud and identity theft.”

“Like
21 Jump Street
?” I say.

“Yes, exactly like
21 Jump Street
,” he says. “I’m really thirty years old, not twenty-one.”

“So all of this time you were getting my references to stuff that happened in the eighties?”

“Yep, I had to play it off,” he says. “They had me watching you to see if we could get to the culprits. At first they thought it was you, but I knew that wasn’t possible after my first day. But you led me right to them. Thanks.”

“Err . . . you’re welcome,” I say. “Well, looks like my work is done. I’m a leave now, I have to get up early tomorrow. You know, I’m a manager.”

Chloe looks right at me. I avoid eye contact.