The Guardian (21 page)

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Authors: Bill Eidson

Tags: #Suspense

BOOK: The Guardian
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“You didn’t tell
him
about Janine, did you?”

Ross shook his head.

“Good.” Byrne let out a deep breath. “T.S. treats his little psychos like a bunch of cousins. They don’t exactly work for him, but he considers them related.”

“So you know him.”

“Unfortunately. I won’t be able to get close to him again. I busted a few of his buddies about two years ago, and no disguise on earth would let me within fifty feet of him now. How’d you get anywhere with him?”

Crockett’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Ross didn’t need the warning. “I did have that introduction from Datano.”

“Yeah… .” Byrne looked doubtful, but he shifted gears. “So what happened? He set up anything for you?”

Ross could feel the sweat trickle down his back. But he went ahead and told Byrne about the kid. About how he’d short- circuited the liquor store robbery. Crockett rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Uh-huh.” Byrne finished his notes and said, “Is that it? Are there any murders or rapes you forgot to mention?”

“That’s it.”

Byrne massaged the back of his neck. “Jesus. Too bad I didn’t wear a wire. Turner would’ve loved this.”

“Who’s Turner?” Crockett asked.

“FBI,” Byrne answered.

“Yuh, he would’ve loved that, then. Played it before he went to bed every night.”

“It’s far from foolproof, but you’ve found your way to a pretty good contact, I’ll say that,” Byrne said. “There aren’t
that
many tall white men robbing stores at any given time in Boston … so what did you bright boys have in mind after that? That red hair and ID bit was a once-in-a-lifetime deal.”

“I told him that.” The corners of Crockett’s mouth lifted just slightly. “That’s exactly what I told him.”

Byrne looked over at Ross. “What next?”

“Next we were going to start recruiting.”

“For what?”

Ross gestured to Crockett. “For a truck.”

“An armored car,” Crockett said. “Recruiting for a guy who knows how to use a shotgun.”

 

 

 

Chapter 36

 

 

Janine started crying when Nat finally let her out of the trunk. She cried because she felt like it; she cried because she had to trick Nat.

Janine didn’t put it into words for herself, exactly. But that time in the trunk made her know she was alone in a way she hadn’t been before.

She couldn’t wait for her Uncle Ross.

She couldn’t wait for her mother.

They weren’t coming. Maybe they wanted to, but they
hadn’t
come for her. So it came down to the same thing.

Janine wished she were strong enough to beat Nat up. She thought about Joey Todd at school, the biggest kid she knew. He was her age, but fatter. When he hit you in the stomach, you couldn’t breathe. She thought about him and knew that even if she were as big and strong and mean as he was, Nat would still be able to pick her up and throw her in the trunk. That adults could do anything they wanted with kids.

It wasn’t fair.

“Come on, crybaby,” Nat was saying now. “Just get in the backseat and eat your lunch.” Nat looked at her watch. “Call it your dinner, now. I was gone longer than I thought. You’ll sleep afterward. You can go right through the night. Tomorrow will be better. You’ll see.”

Nat’s lipstick was all smeared and she had that crazy bright voice back. “Got me a little tune-up.” Nat touched her nose. “Hey, you save some money, you make money, right? Guy pays me one way or he pays me another. But I got two others that gave me the cash, honey. We get enough, I’ll take one of these cars and we’ll try a different city. I don’t like driving that much, would rather do a bus. Leave the driving to them, like they say. But that’s no good, what with that cop getting shot in front of the bus station. I guess they’ll be looking for us at the train station, too. And I can’t see flying, can you?”

Nat reached back and fussed with Janine’s hair.

Janine, more than anything, wanted to bite her, do what she had done to Lee, and make Nat scream.

But Janine wept. Let Nat fuss all the more, act like she was her mother, shushing her and telling her that everything would be all right.

“Here, hon, drink your shake.”

“Where are you going now?”

“Nowhere, baby. I’m going to take a little nap myself, right here. You just drink your shake.”

Janine took the drink. It was no longer cold to the touch, and when she took a small sip, she couldn’t help but make a face. It was warm.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the one who wouldn’t drink it when I told you to.”

Janine sucked at the straw, let her cheeks move in. But she stuck the tip of her tongue in the straw, letting just a trickle of the liquid into her mouth. Bad as it tasted, she was awfully thirsty. It had been hot in that trunk.

“You drinking that, honey?”

Janine took her tongue away and let the stuff flood in. “Aaah!” she said, opening her mouth as if she were joking.

The woman clapped her hands over her face, laughing. As if Janine were a two-year-old. “Gross! You’re doing a ‘show-me.’ Isn’t that what you call it? We did when I was a kid.”

“Uh-huh.” Janine swallowed and then began to fake it with the straw again. She kept her hands high on the cup, so Nat couldn’t see that the level wasn’t going down. After a moment, Janine said, “Do your mom and dad live around here?”

“No.”

“Where then?”

“They’re dead. I lived with my Aunt Barb in New Jersey. Have you heard of that?”

Janine looked at her like she was stupid. “Of
course
I’ve heard of it.”

“Have you been there?”

“No. But I’ve heard of it. Is that where you and Lee lived?”

The woman shook her head. “New York.”

“You were married to him?”

“Still am, honey.” Nat lit a cigarette.

“Why’d you marry him if he was so mean?”

She shrugged. “He wasn’t—to me, that is. It’s different now.” She looked at herself in the mirror, then turned back to Janine. “I still don’t look so bad, considering. But you should’ve seen me a few years ago. And he never was handsome, but he had this way about him. Ex-marine, you know. Very tough and smart when it comes doing things. And I liked that.”

“He doesn’t seem smart to me.”

Nat raised her eyebrows. “Oh, is that right, Miss Smarty? Got you, didn’t he?” Her voice was silly, but Janine could tell she was angry.

That made Janine angry back. “He killed Daddy.”

Nat dropped the voice and sighed. “I know, honey. But it’s more complicated than you think … and we’ve both got a problem with the nose candy. Lee takes what he wants. That’s just the way he is.”

“Who is Leanne?”

Nat shook her head abruptly.

“Is she your daughter?”

“Drink your shake.” Nat’s voice was quiet, almost impossible to hear.

“Is she dead?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why isn’t she with you? Why are you doing this to me?”

Nat reached over and grasped Janine’s wrist. She dug her fingernails in slightly.

“Stop it!”

Nat made it hurt more. “Drink your fucking shake.”

Tears blurred Janine’s eyes, and she slurped more of the shake down. Nat let go.

Almost half the shake was gone. Janine let the tears that had started continue, even though she could’ve stopped if she wanted. “Can I lie down?”

Nat turned away. “Go ahead. Just finish that up as you do. I’m going to want to see an empty cup.”

Janine lay down, and she faked it with the straw for a while. And looked at Nat.

When Nat finally closed her eyes and shifted to be more comfortable, Janine lifted the plastic lid of the cup—and reached down and poured the rest of the shake under the floor mat.

 

* * *

 

She fought the sleep.

It wanted to take her. It was like a warm blanket was being drawn slowly up her body. It seemed to start in her legs, and then her belly. She just started feeling heavy. The seat cushions felt soft, and she didn’t even feel scared when Nat took the empty cup from her hand.

Janine had to fight wanting to be taken care of.

She had to fight giving it all up for just a few more hours. Through her eyelashes, she watched Nat’s head, seeing her move around in the front seat, trying to get comfortable. Janine pinched her own thigh, like Nat had, letting the bright pain from Miss Crabby bring her back awake.

Nat’s breathing became louder up front.

Janine sat up, holding her own breath. Nat didn’t turn her head. She didn’t say, “Lay down,” in her mean voice.

Janine looked at the door beside her. The lock was down. She reached over with two hands and quietly lifted it. It slid up smoothly, but the door wouldn’t open. She leaned against the door harder, but it didn’t move at all.

She shifted quietly to the other door. Same thing.

She almost cried. It was one of those cars where kids weren’t allowed to open their own doors.

Her mother’s car was like that, and Janine got a sudden image of her mother saying, “We’re off,” and hitting a button beside her up in the front seat, and all of the doors would make this clunking sound and the doors would be locked.

If this car was like that, Janine knew she’d never get out; Nat would hear the sound. And then she’d find the milk shake on the floor, and her face would get all mad, and she’d say, “After all I’ve done for you,” and she’d put Janine back in the trunk.

Janine began to breathe fast, and she thought she was going to cry.

But she made herself stop. Made herself slow down.

She looked up into the front seat, to see if there were a bunch of buttons on the door beside the steering wheel.

She didn’t see any. And the car had a crank for the window. That meant the windows weren’t ‘lectric.
E
-lectric, she corrected herself. Her dad was always fixing that word for her.

The thought of him brushed at her eyes again, but she pushed it all away, and looked at the door up front again.

That lock was already pulled up.

She drew her feet up and braced herself against the driver’s seat. She put her right foot onto the armrest and then had to turn her back to Nat. Janine brought the other foot onto the armrest and balanced there for a second, her back against the ceiling, her bottom close to brushing up against Nat’s head. She pressed herself against the driver’s seat, and slid down slowly, terrified that when she turned around, Nat would be staring at her, furiously angry.

Once she was on her knees, she almost bolted, almost went straight out that door. But she was sure Nat was looking at her.

Janine forced herself to turn. Nat was still asleep, her mouth open.

Nat’s purse was right at her feet. There was a dull glint from inside, and just as Janine opened the door, she realized what she had seen was the gun. And she remembered that Nat had said Lee was out there someplace, and before Janine let herself think much about it, she reached over and took the thing out of Nat’s bag. It was heavier than she expected, but she could fit it inside the pouch of her sweatshirt.

She hugged the solid weight to her belly as she slipped out of the car and ran away, free for the first time in eight days.

 

 

 

Chapter 37

 

 

Look, Blackie, I gave the kid hell myself for that liquor store thing. I had no idea he’d had a run-in with them the week before.” T.S. handed Ross a beer. They were sitting out on the little balcony. “He could’ve gotten his ass fried.”

“Worse, he could’ve gotten my ass fried.” Ross let his lips curl slightly as he sipped at the beer, knowing T.S. was watching. Below, he could see the roof of Byrne’s car. “The kid wasn’t good enough for the job I had in mind.”

“None of these people are too solid. They’d be in another line of work if they were. Shit, you’re none too solid, yourself.” T.S. downed the rest of his beer and cracked another one. The foam from the first dribbled through his beard. “Of course, that’s one of the things I like about you.”

“I’m moving forward on that bigger job.”

“What’s it going to be?”

Ross ignored that. “Tell me what you’ve got for me.”

“All use shotguns. And they’re purebreds.”

“Purebreds?”

“Like you and me. White. You know I don’t handle any spicks or niggers. Datano told you that, right?”

Ross shrugged.

“As for age, they’re probably about your age, little younger than me.”

“Experienced?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Reasonably good shape?”

“Yeah, any of them can run the frigging marathon for you. But tell me something, even if you’re not gonna tell me what the job is—how much money are we talking here?”

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