Storm Prey (34 page)

BARAKAT COULD no longer keep track of the world.

He was high most of the time, but still operating; but the whole business of planning, of figuring out the future, had gone away. He now lived thirty seconds at a time, one twist at a time. He'd had the pound of cocaine for less than a week, and already had the feeling that he was running dangerously low.

Had to find an outlet for the dope he had. Had to find a way to move it.

Couldn't plan.

Needed another twist.

Looked at the kid's sprained ankle, couldn't focus. Said, "I'll be right back. I don't think it's broken."

Needed the twist.

JOE MACK SAT in the snow, in the dark, actually inside the hedge. He was wearing insulated coveralls, his Carhartt coat draped over his shoulders, with his hands pulled inside. He was wearing gloves and boots and a black watch cap pulled down over his ears.

He'd been waiting since twenty after three, head down, not moving: a technique he'd perfected hunting deer, back when it snowed during Wisconsin deer season.

Three-thirty came and went, then four o'clock. Moved only twice, to stretch his legs out in front of him.

Cold and clear; the storm was done, the cold coming in behind it. At four-twenty, a car turned into the driveway, bucked up the hump. The drive hadn't been shoveled.

The car stopped, and Barakat stepped out. Joe Mack saw his face when the car's interior lights went on. The tall man got out and slammed the door, slipped a bit as he turned in the snow to head around the nose of the car. When he did, Joe Mack rose out of the dark behind him.

Joe Mack threw his right forearm around Barakat's neck, his hand catching the inside of his own left elbow, while his left hand went behind Barakat's neck. The other man struggled, tried to turn, but Joe Mack held him fast, bending Barakat's neck over his forearm.

He said, "You killed my family, you motherfucker."

Barakat tried to choke out some words, but failed. He actually heard his neck break; an instant later, he was gone.

24

AFTER THE DISCUSSION the night before, Lucas and Marcy decided they should watch Barakat for a couple days, until they knew what possibilities the DNA samples might hold. If he tried to move what might have been the drugs, if he visited a place where the drugs might be stashed, they'd have that.

And they'd figure something out.

AT ELEVEN O'CLOCK the next morning, Marilyn Crowe called Marcy for the third time and said, "Still no movement. I'm thinking I should knock on his door."

"Still a problem ..."

"We know he was supposed to be at work. The phone is ringing in there. The car's here ... I think I should go knock."

Marcy exhaled, then said, "All right, but take Dick with you. The excuse sounds pretty weak. He's gonna know we're watching him."

"But something's not right," Crowe said. "If he's skipped ..."

"Okay. Knock on the door," Marcy said.

She was a little annoyed when Crowe called her back thirty seconds later and said, "He's here."

"I was afraid of that."

"He's on the ground in front of his car," Crowe said. "Dick says somebody snapped his neck."

THEY ALL RECONVENED at Lucas's place, which was only a mile from Barakat's and the crime scene, and Lucas ran through the logic. "Four guys rob the place. One of them is the doc, Barakat, who set it up, and we know he's the right guy, because we find that load of drugs in his house. The other three are Chapman, Haines, and Joe Mack. Haines gets scratched, and Joe Mack and Barakat are seen. The Macks and the doc decide that Chapman and Haines have to go. Probably because they know that Haines was scratched, and that we were going to identify him when we ran the DNA. Maybe they figure that they have to take out Chapman, too, because he and Haines were old buddies.

"So they do that. They bring in Garner to do the killing, because they know Garner's a killer. He kills Chapman and Haines. He takes a shot at Weather, because Weather has seen Joe Mack and Barakat, close up. He misses. Then Joe Mack freaks out when we jump him, and he runs. He kidnaps Jill MacBride, takes her to the airport. Garner comes to pick him up, and probably kills MacBride.

"Now they've got a bigger problem. Now we've
got
Joe Mack for a capital crime. Garner and Barakat start to worry about Joe dealing them, so they decide to cut the Macks out of the deal, and the idea is to kill them and keep the drugs. They get Lyle and Ike, but miss Joe.

"But they still want to get Weather, because she also saw Barakat, in the elevator. They get close in, but then Virgil and I jump him in the hospital, and Virgil shoots him in the toe."

"Nice shot, Flowers," Shrake said.

"I was shooting to wound," Virgil said.

"Shut up," Lucas said. "I'm talking here. So we track down Garner, and he's killed. There's no one left standing, now, except Joe Mack and Barakat. Joe Mack knows who killed his family, so he ambushes Barakat and breaks his neck."

"That's the weakest point," Weather said. "You don't know that."

"In this whole episode, the only really tall guy was Joe Mack. He's taller than me, and stronger. The ME says the guy who killed Barakat was probably taller than Barakat, and had to be exceptionally strong to snap his neck like that. Joe Mack is the obvious candidate," Lucas said. "Killed him out of revenge. He knew that Barakat had killed Lyle and Ike."

"So Weather's okay," Virgil said.

"I'm a little better than that," Weather said. "I think I'm excellent."

Marcy: "You have the logic. If the DNA comes in on Garner, for killing MacBride, I'll buy the whole enchilada."

"I'll bet you a hundred dollars it does," Lucas said.

Virgil said, "I'm going home, soon as my shirts get out of the dryer."

HE STARTED packing up, Marcy headed for Minneapolis, Shrake and Jenkins were talking about an ice-fishing tournament on White Bear Lake.

LUCAS AND WEATHER were sitting in the kitchen, alone, and Weather went through the whole sequence of the final operation.

"So the kids are going to be okay," Lucas said.

"Well ... they're going to have problems. With a good family, by the time they're in first grade, they should be, you know, more or less okay. There'll still be some issues."

"A happy ending," Lucas said.

"As for me, I'm going to get pregnant again," Weather said.

"You got the daddy picked out?"

"Yup."

"You're too old," Lucas said.

"No, I'm not."

"You're too busy."

"No, I'm not."

"Well. Okay, then."

VIRGIL CAME down the hall with his bag and shotgun case, and said, "Thanks for your hospitality. Let's not do it again."

"Drive carefully," Weather said. "The roads are terrible."

Lucas's phone rang, and he dug it out of his pocket. Caller unknown.

He pushed the answer button: "Hello?"

"Mr. Davenport?"

He couldn't quite place the voice, but it was familiar. State Farm? "Yes?"

"This is Joe Mack."

Virgil was turning away, but Lucas held up a finger, and he stopped. "Joe Mack? Joe--how you doing?"

Joe Mack laughed and said, "Well, not real fuckin' good, you know? After crackin' Al's neck last night, I went out and got seriously in the bag. Where I still am."

"In the bag?"

"In the bag. Anyway, I'm down at the bar, if you want to come get me."

"Give me fifteen minutes," Lucas said.

"HOW'D HE KNOW your phone number?" Virgil asked, as Lucas got his coat on.

"I gave my card to Honey Bee, wrote my home number on it. He's been talking to her."

They took Virgil's truck, with its flashers, and made it in ten, even with the snow, driving around the last block to come in from the back. With their guns drawn, they tried the back door, but found it padlocked from the outside, with crime-scene tape over the door. They eased around to the front door, where another lock had been broken off.

The window, broken by Jenkins, had been repaired with a piece of plywood, but they could hear the jukebox going inside: Robert Earl Keen, "The Road Goes on Forever."

And they could see Joe Mack sitting at the bar, a drink in front of him.

LUCAS LED the way in, Virgil a step behind, and then breaking away to the side. Joe Mack looked at them, with their guns, and said, "I don't got a gun."

Lucas and Virgil watched him for a minute, then Virgil put his gun away and said, "So, ready to go?"

"Give me a minute to finish my drink," Joe Mack said. "I got some stuff I want to say, too."

Lucas glanced at Virgil, who nodded, and Lucas said, "Any help you can give us, man."

Joe Mack snorted: "Help, my ass." He sipped at the glass of bourbon, then said, "Mostly, I want to say that Honey Bee didn't know nothin' about all of this. Nothin'. I'm not gonna tell you nothin' that will help you put me in jail, but I'll tell you that."

"You said something on the phone about crackin' Barakat's neck," Lucas said.

Joe Mack said, "Prove it."

VIRGIL WALKED up behind him and said, "I don't want to seem unfriendly, but would you mind standing up, so I can pat you down? I'd like to get myself a beer, but I worry about how you might have a gun. I hate guns."

Lucas had seen Virgil operate before, and though he was uncertain about the concept of a beer, he let him go.

Joe Mack slid off the stool and Virgil carefully patted him down, and then looked under the stool, where a gun might be stuck, and found nothing. "Got no gun," Joe Mack said, taking the stool back.

Lucas said, "I gotta say this. You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford an attorney ..."

When he was done, Virgil said, "Okay," and walked around behind the bar and pulled a beer for himself. "Lucas?"

"Maybe just a short one," Lucas said.

Virgil said to Joe, "Freshen that up?"

"Yeah." Joe pushed the glass across the bar.

Lucas took a stool two down from Joe Mack, and Virgil put the beers out.

"Why do you do all that rights stuff?" Joe Mack asked. "You could just lie about it, if anybody asked."

"Best not to lie any more than you have to," Lucas said.

Virgil: "Especially in court."

"I'll tell you what, Joe," Lucas said. He took a sip of beer and looked at Joe Mack over the rim of the glass. "Large parts of this case are really confusing for us. Did your dad know about the whole thing? Or was he just a victim? We know you put the drugs into the tank up there."

Joe Mack talked for a while, Virgil serving up a series of highballs--the broken front door started banging, letting in cold air, and Lucas went and wedged it shut with a chair--and when they were done, after an hour or so, they had the whole story.

Virgil said to Lucas, "You were mostly right."

"Bet I talked way too much, didn't I?" Joe Mack said.

"Well, hell, Joe, you know, this whole thing has been pretty awful," Virgil said. He shook his head. "That MacBride woman ..."

"I get nightmares," Joe Mack said. "I blew my guts ..."

"Doesn't help Jill MacBride or her daughters," Lucas said.

"Ah, fuck," Joe Mack said. He stared into his nearly empty glass. "The whole problem was, we're stupid people. That's what caused all this trouble. We weren't smart enough to run this bar, without buyin' and sellin' out the back door. We sure as shit weren't smart enough to pull off a big-time robbery. Mikey kickin' that guy? Just stupid. Cappy? Stupid. I only ran away from you guys because I'm stupid. I know that. Everybody knows that."

He finished his drink, the fourth since they'd arrived, and Lucas said, "Time to go."

"One more," Joe Mack said, pleading, his eyes watery. "You know, I'm an alcoholic. I always liked being an alcoholic. One of the only good things that ever happened to me. This could be my last drink, forever."

"One more?" Virgil looked at Lucas.

Lucas turned and looked out the windows, at the dirty cars hissing by on the snow-choked highway, the gray clouds piled up overhead, the barren trees like black lightning. The clouds were going out, and the cold was coming in: minus ten, that night, maybe fifteen below the next. He said, "Hell, why not? What better to do on a day like this?"