LEO
She’s right on the edge when I spot him. I curse my inattention. I got distracted by her. “Be right back,” I say, sliding my hand reluctantly
from her. She looks up at me with her eyes full of confusion.
I’m already on my feet, heading for the bathroom. He went in there a second ago. He’s dressed as a waiter, but there’s no chance he works here. One city guy can recognize another pretty fast, especially from one of the families. I don’t know which one, but I can guess. He’s in there waiting for me and I’ve got to deal with him.
Just as I walk in the bathroom, he’s coming out, and he’s got a hand in his pocket. He looks at me but says nothing, just heads by and goes into the kitchen. Is this meant to be a warning? Has he dumped the gun after I clocked him?
I glance back at Amelia. Clive is talking to her. She glances past him at me, looking lost. I can explain when I get back. First, I need to deal with my man. Ideally, keep him alive for long enough to find out who’s paying him.
I walk into the kitchen and there’s no one there. That’s not a good sign. Where is he?
At the far end is a door that leads into the street. I push it open in time for the bullet to hit the doorframe. It’s not my first time being shot at. I make a quick analysis.
Inexperienced. Nervous. Eager to prove himself. I was in his shoes years ago, younger than him. I know what he’ll do next. He’s hiding, hoping to take another shot at me from closer range.
I scan the alleyway behind the diner. A dumpster, too close. A pile of boxes further on and an abandoned car. He’s behind the car. Nowhere else to be.
I hug the wall and get behind the dumpster, get my gun out, check the safety’s off. Get ready.
I go fast, predicting he’ll wait to take his shot, wanting to be sure this time. I sprint forward and by the time I hear the bang, I’m already leaping over the hood of the car.
His shot goes past my cheek, close enough for me to feel the heat of it. I’m getting too old for this. That could have been my head.
I should have dealt with him the second he came out of the bathroom, dragged him back in there. Snapped his neck and left the cops to clean up the mess. What is wrong with me?
I land next to him and before he can fire again, I’ve put a bullet in his head. His gun falls from his hand. I take a second shot to be sure and then look behind me.
No one there. I’ve time to get back. I sprint for the door and duck back inside in time to see the owner appearing in the kitchen doorway. “What you doing back here?” he asks.
“Looking for you,” I tell him. “Wanted to tell you that was the best damned burger I ever had.”
His face lights up. “Glad you liked it. Be sure to remember that when you leave your tip.” He doesn’t know the guy. I can tell.
I head out and nod to Amelia. “Time to go,” I tell her, tossing some notes onto the counter by the register.
We get outside and start walking. “You going to tell me what happened back there?” she asks. “Or do I have to guess?” “Had some business to attend to,” I tell her.
“You’ve got blood on your shoes.”
No wonder. The body count is adding up. I know the snitch is watching, knows where I am. Sent him in to deal with me, probably gave him instructions to get me out into the alley where it couldn’t be seen.
That means they know the layout of the town. Probably been here a long time. A local. Someone hiding in plain sight. I need to keep my wits about me. I need to not get distracted by Amelia. She’s just my cover.
“So we going to talk about what happened back there?” she asks. “Why you’ve got blood on your shoes or splinters on your suit, maybe?”
She’s got sharp eyes, this one. “Nope,” I say. “We’re going back to yours to finish what we started.” Already my mind is back on what’s hiding under those panties of hers.
It’s dumb. I know it’s dumb. She’s already at risk, and I’m making it worse for my own selfish ends. But I can’t help myself. I’ve got to have her. Since the moment she first looked at me as we crossed paths in the park, I’ve known.
I’m like a metal tin and she’s a magnet. I’m not getting away no matter what I do. She’s drawing me in. She does not know how much power she
has over me already, a power I’ve seen men kill to try to get. “We’re not going home,” she says, shaking her head.
“We are.”
“I’ve got work to do, Mr. Bigshot. I don’t just get to put my entire life on hold while you’re here.”
“I own you for two days. You can put things on hold for that long.”
“The dogs need feeding. You can either come with me or go off on your own, but this is happening.”
“Anyone ever told you you’ve got an attitude problem?”
She grins. “All the time. If you’re pissed at me, you can always spank me.” Her grin’s still there and she sticks her tongue out. I know she’s joking, but the idea gets hold of me and won’t let go.
“Maybe I will,” I reply. “How long’s this going to take?”
“It’ll be quicker if you help.”
“Then I better help.”
We walk to the shelter, and the sun is out for the journey. It shines through the trees that line the roadside, making patterns of light and dark on the sidewalk. Only a couple of cars go by and Amelia seems to know the occupants of all of them, waving and nodding their way and getting greetings called back.
I look around me and I see the appeal of small-town life. The only violence here is coming from me. Everyone else seems friendly as they come.
It’s a lie, though. I know it’s a lie. Her boss, for one. Getting into gambling debts at the casino. I’ve got his background. Been in debt to the loan sharks for years before that.
Started out as a loan shark himself. Ended up owing three separate families a ton of money. He was siphoning it from the shelter. Any one of the families could have killed him.
Explains why the place looks so battered. It needs cleaning up. Needs making good. The roof has leaked at some point.
When we get in there, I can see the bulge in the ceiling, the way the plaster sags down reminds me of my house growing up, as does the mold on the walls in the reception.
Someone kept hold of Cam’s body. Let it rot. Brought it back out this weekend. Could have kept him alive for a while.
Wouldn’t a body have rotted too much to move in five years? Frozen maybe? Kept in storage somewhere until it was needed. Who would do that, and why? who could have that level of patience? Questions I’m hoping to answer by tomorrow night.
The examination room is clean enough, as best it can be with the tiles coming off the walls and the floor sagging in two places. “The whole place needs tearing down and rebuilding,” I say as she does whatever the hell it is she’s doing.
“If only,” she replies. “Rose, you back there?”
A teenage girl with spectacles filling half her face appears from the next room, carrying a big bag of dog food. I grab it from her. “Where’d you want it?” I ask.
“My hero,” she replies. “Through there so I can dish it up.”
“You get going, Rose,” Amelia says. “You need your lunch. I’ll do that.”
“You sure?” Rose asks. “I don’t mind.”
“Clive is making burgers.”
“Holy shit, I’m gone.” She grabs her jacket from a hook on the wall and heads out.
I carry the bag through to the next room. “Now what?” I ask as she looks into each cage lining the wall behind her. The cages have open doors to outside and the dogs are all pressed up against the front bars, grinning at her, tails going crazy.
I think of Rex and get stabbed in the heart. I swallow the emotion so it doesn’t show, but it cuts deep. I’ll never see him again.
All I can do is get the snitch that started all this. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have come here and Rex would have lived out his life by my side. Taking Bobby’s casino for the family felt good. So did getting out of prison. Nothing will feel as good as getting the son of a bitch responsible for Rex getting shot.
The Don went looking while I was locked up, tracked the snitch to right here. The guy we’re looking for all across the fucking country is right where we started.
Not for long, though. Soon he’ll be six feet underground where he belongs and I can get back to… get back to what?
All of a sudden, getting back to the city doesn’t seem as important as it did. Can I imagine taking Amelia there? Introducing her to the family? It’d scare the shit out of her and they’d all think I’d gone soft.
As if I could marry an outsider. The man who said he’d never take a wife suddenly rocks up with some hick girl who doesn’t even know the Gianni name? Not even Italian. They’d think I’d lost it and with good cause. “Are you going to stand there all day or help me feed them?”
I look down, and she’s laid out bowls on the table. I scoop the food out of the bag into the bowls while she refills their water. “How’d you like being my assistant?” she asks while I’m passing her the bowls.
“How’d you like to shut that sass mouth of yours?”
She acts cowed, but then she laughs. “Go on.”
“What?”
“I know you want to.”
“You know I want to what?”
“I know you want to play with them. There’s an enclosure out back.
Take a couple of balls from the tub and go wild.”
She tosses me three tennis balls at once, and I catch them. She claps. “Bravo. You’re fast. Go on, while I clean the pens out. Go through that door.”
I walk out back and through a chain-link gate into a grassed area about the size of a tennis court. The dogs are walking out of their pens into the open, eying me warily.
I count half a dozen. Two pugs, a German shepherd pup that makes me think of Rex. A border collie with one ear and two mongrels, one brown, one gray.
I hold up one of the tennis balls and there’s an instant tension in the air. I toss the ball and all hell breaks loose. A barrage of woofs and barks and snarls as they all run for it. I toss the other ball and start laughing.
It’s quite the sight seeing them all bashing into each other to get to the ball first. The pup manages it and brings it back, walking proudly as a pony, dumping it at my feet.
I reach down and one pug tries to snatch it. “No fucking way,” I tell him, and he backs off. I toss the ball again and off they go.
For a few minutes, I forget the snitch. I forget the ticking clock. I forget the war that might come back if I fail. All I think about is how much fun this is. When was the last time I had fun?
Not since I found Rex. Back then, I wasn’t as high up. I didn’t need to have eyes in the back of my head every minute of the day. Back then, I could relax and go hiking with him sometimes.
Go sit on the beach and look out at the waves and do nothing at all.
Dream of the day I’ll have my boat. Can’t dream anymore. No time to spare.
“Enjoying yourself?”
I turn around and Amelia is there holding the tub of toys. She dumps the whole thing onto the grass and the dogs go wild. She steps back and laughs,
and at that moment I know I’m in real serious trouble. I’m falling for her.