Read Dirty Money Online

Authors: Ashley Bartlett

Dirty Money (19 page)

BOOK: Dirty Money
12.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to see you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to see you.” Alexis smiled a sad sort of smile. “I’ll pick you up in a couple hours.”

“’Kay.” She turned to leave. I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. When she shuddered, I jerked my hand back like I’d been burned.

“What now?”

“Umm, is this little excursion one I’ll be coming back from? Because if you’re going to kill me, I’d rather you just got it over with.”

“You think that little of me?”

“Huh?”

“You reject me so I send you on a permanent vacation? Seems a little extreme.” Good point.

“I just thought I’d check.”

“I’ll see you at eleven.”

 

*

 

I considered about a thousand different things Alexis might have wanted me to do. Few options were in my moral code. The majority, I feared, were along the line of what Esau considered a good night. I even thought about the possibility that she was going to take me out back and shoot me, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen. She was right; she wasn’t that petty. But none of my bloody, soulless imaginings came close to what Alexis showed me that day.

The building we parked behind was in a decidedly bad part of town. That wasn’t a surprise. Nor were the subtly positioned security cameras. I wasn’t even surprised at the mass of muscle who answered the back door.

I followed Alexis through a sad kitchen, upstairs to a poorly lit hallway. The rooms didn’t have doors on them. Inside, the rooms were crack house chic. Like stained mattresses, boarded up windows, fucking dirty. In each room, a mass of neglected looking young girls huddled together on the stained mattresses sleeping. If you could call it sleeping. Some shivered, others twitched. Most kept their faces covered like they were waiting for an unannounced blow to the head.

It took all my strength not to hurl. I didn’t want to add more bodily fluid to the floors. As it was, I was dry heaving and trying to play it cool.

Alexis DiGiovanni was a sick motherfucker. And I wanted nothing to do with her.

“This will be your room.” She opened the one door still standing. The only improvements from the other rooms were a small TV and a blanket on the mattress. “You will be on rotating shifts with two other guys. All you have to do is watch the girls, keep them safe, and keep them healthy. When new girls arrive, I want you to check them over. I trust you not to mess with the merchandise.” She rolled her eyes like we were in on a joke. “As you can imagine, we’ve had trouble with that in the past.”

I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t even look at her, much less speak. So I turned around, went down the stairs, and headed for the door. Muscle guy tried to stop me.

“I need some air,” I said.

“Maybe you should wait for the boss.”

“No, I need to go outside. Now.” He didn’t move. “This doesn’t need to be a problem.” With a show of calm I didn’t feel, I undid both buttons on my jacket and slid my hands into my pockets. My jacket slid open, revealing the butt of my Beretta.

“Hey, man. I just don’t want to piss off the lady.” He backed away from the door.

“Thanks.” I walked outside slowly, let the door close behind me, and strolled to the end of the alley. Then I ran for my fuckin’ life.

I was a long way from where I was going, but I didn’t get a cab. I didn’t want a record of my destination. Because I was going to disappear. After a couple blocks, I forced myself to walk. I was noticeable enough as it was without sprinting.

Alexis called a couple times, but I didn’t answer. Bitch was evil. I figured she’d have to call Vito at some point to report that I was gone. Alexis would do her best to find me first because she wouldn’t want to admit she’d lost me. I planned on being very much gone by the time that happened.

My phone rang again. I checked the readout. Not Alexis.

“Hey, Esau. Not who I expected, but I’m not surprised.”

“What are you talking about? Never mind. I don’t want to know. I need you.”

Seriously? He wanted help torturing some poor fuck right then?

“What do you want?”

“I need your help with a job I’m working on. There’s a plane ticket waiting for you,” Esau said.

“I can’t.”

“Kid, this isn’t the usual job.”

“I still can’t. I just got reassigned.” And I was so gone.

“That doesn’t matter. I just caught up with an old friend of yours.” All right. He had my attention. “Well, the father of a friend of yours. I think you want to do business with this guy.”

Holy fuckin’ shit. He’d found Christopher. And I was a tool. Who the fuck else would have stolen the gold bars? The twins didn’t have them, I didn’t have them, and Vito didn’t have them. Christopher was the only one who knew they even existed. I was such an idiot.

“When…how did you…never mind. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect. I’m calling the boss now,” he said.

“Business as usual?”

“Business as usual.”

 

*

 

Esau picked me up in San Francisco, then we drove toward Sacramento. I attempted to sleep for the first ninety minutes. I’d avoided doing so on the plane for fear I’d wake up screaming. My attempt to sleep didn’t work. I gave up in Elk Grove.

“So Christopher came back to the McMansion?”

“Yes. Can you believe that?”

I shook my head. “How long have you been looking for him?”

“Five months. Give or take.”

“And he just showed up at the house? Is he stupid?” No, Christopher wasn’t stupid. And he knew better. Especially if he had the gold.

“You’re right. Something is off. I thought we’d watch the house for a day or so before going in.”

“Get into the left lane.”

“What?” Esau looked at me like I was losing it. And coming from him that was insulting.

“Just get into the left lane.”

He did as he was told. When the right lane branched off without warning half a second later, he started laughing.

“You’ll need to jump three lanes once we merge.”

“Vito told me you grew up here.”

“Yep.”

“Weird to be home?”

“Drive, Esau.”

He didn’t need to know what it felt like to drive on Highway 50 after giving up hope of ever seeing this stretch of ugly roadside again. He didn’t need to know that my heart had made a sudden and deafening appearance. That I felt like I was drowning in the rush of blood and memory.

Esau displayed his canines and kept driving. “We should spend the first few hours together, but after that, I’m thinking we will trade shifts.”

“Have you already done a drive-by to check it out?”

“No.”

“Well, we can’t drive in and out because the security cameras will pick us up. Plus, there are actual gates and we don’t have clearance to get in. And we can’t use the usual surveillance sedan. The neighbors will call security. Or the cops. ’Cause it’s totally a suburban street. So we should get an SUV. Something disgusting and big and flashy with tinted windows. That way we will blend in and we won’t be seen.” I was rambling. And pretending to be in charge. It could have been nerves. It could have been my first glimpse at Sacramento in far too long.

“An SUV?” Esau pursed his lips and looked around. That was a weird habit for a dude. “You mean something like, I don’t know, the Escalade we are currently driving in?”

“Oh.”

“I do have a little experience at this.”

“My bad.”

“I’m guessing you know a back way in.” I did. “Once we park this car up there we can leave it. There is a new housing development right below Christopher’s house. It’s not visible from his street, but we can walk up the hill from there to switch shifts.”

“Sorry. I’ll shut up.”

“I will need help with one thing.” He offered a less predatory version of his smile.

“What?”

“Please tell me there’s a decent Thai place.”

This dude was a freak show.

 

*

 

The house was quiet at seven a.m. By eight, there was definite movement. I pulled up the hood on my sweatshirt and put on a pair of sunglasses. The neighbors would probably just think I was another kid sleeping it off before going home. It was freezing, but I kept the window cracked so the windshield wouldn’t fog. I didn’t care so much if someone noticed me because I knew they wouldn’t recognize me. But I didn’t want anything to obstruct my view.

At eleven, a car pulled up. The front door of the blue house opened and my dad walked out on the porch. I had to put my hands, which had been shaking for the last hour, under my legs. Otherwise, I might open the door. I might go up to the house. I might walk inside.

I became very aware of swallowing, of how dry and itchy my eyes were, of each shattered breath as it forced its way into and out of my chest.

Carson and Derek got out of the car. Dad met them halfway up the driveway. They all hugged for a long, long time. It wasn’t until my mom emerged from the house that Derek broke away. They hugged too. Then Carson stepped up to hug her. She pulled both of them close and kissed their foreheads.

Before the group ever reached the front door, another car pulled up. It was Austin. This time it was my mom who went to pull him into her arms. She had started crying. Before anyone else could reach the twosome, Ade ran out of the house. Not a young girl, not anymore. Adriana didn’t look like mom now. She’d grown out of that. Her chin was more prominent, jaw slimmer. Those green eyes, just like Dad’s, just like mine, had gotten brighter. Maybe it was her long eyelashes. Maybe she’d just grown up. And I hadn’t been there to watch.

My baby sister tackled Austin in a hug as soon as my mother let go of him. He ruffled her hair and put his arm around her waist to walk her into the house.

Twenty minutes later, four more couples had gone inside. Through the front window I caught glimpses of people talking, trying to smile. There was more hugging. The scene was iconic. Roaring fire. The tree in the window lit by pink lights, that must have been Adriana’s idea. The boys were all wearing matching chunky sweaters. They thought it was hilarious to dress like twins at the holidays. Every year, they picked out new horrible sweaters. This year it was reindeer.

But something was off. Somber. Adriana wasn’t smiling. I had taken my baby sister’s smile. One of Carson’s dads was leaning by the fire with mine pretending it was okay to drink wine before noon. I wondered if that was normal for Dad now.

The windows were cracked open as a concession to the heat from the kitchen. Pieces of conversation drifted out. Derek’s stepmom’s voice carried the most. It reminded me of campouts in their backyard when we were ten. I didn’t start to cry until Mom called out that the food was ready.

All I had to do was open the car door. I would take off my sunglasses, toss them back into the car. I’d climb the stairs and count them like Ryan and I did when we were kids. As they sat down, they would hear the front door open. My mom would look at Adriana, a silent question in her eyes. Ade would shake her head. No, she hadn’t invited anyone. Then I would walk in. Dad would start to cry. So would Carson. Derek would be the first to move. No, Ade would. She would grab me and squeeze until I couldn’t breathe. Then she would say something funny. Maybe call me an asshole. My mom would forget to call Adriana on the language. And then my parents would gather me up and hold me and all the pain would just go away. Maybe.

I started the car and drove away. It was Christmas Eve. Six months to the day since we had left.

Chapter Fourteen
 

“I was afraid you weren’t going to show.” Esau didn’t look happy.

“Sorry I’m late. I overslept.”

“Your phone is off.”

“My bad.” I pulled out the phone I’d intentionally forgotten to charge. “Shit, it’s dead.”

“Don’t let it happen again.” Esau dug around in the center console and pulled out a phone charger.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“The phone call I got three hours ago.”

“What phone call?” I tried to be cool as I plugged in my cell phone and reclined against the spacious seat.

“From Vito. Apparently, Alex has been tearing up Chicago looking for you.” He didn’t seem happy, but he wasn’t pissed either.

“Maybe she should have called Vito three days ago when I ran away from her. Literally.”

“You ran away from her? What are you? A thirteen-year-old who got mad at Mommy and Daddy?”

“I used to think you were a psycho. A real sick fuck.” Esau wasn’t fazed by my seemingly random conversation change. Instead, he just smiled a little. “I was wrong. You at least have the decency to kill people. Alexis doesn’t. She just tortures them.”

“How so?”

“She wanted me to help her traffic women, girls.”

“And that violates your little code?”

“You’re damn right it does.”

“So does killing people, but you still come whenever I call.”

“It’s different. Those kids didn’t do anything wrong, unlike your victims. And, like I said, you torture people, but then you kill them. Her torture doesn’t have an end date. I mean, fuck Esau, she…” But I didn’t know what else to say. Because all I could see were those girls trying to sleep as if that was their only peace. And even their peace was filled with nightmares.

“Hey, kid, don’t worry about it. I get what you’re saying. I’ll call Vito and take care of it.”

“You think he can make her stop?” I knew it was naïve, but I could hope.

“No. But I can make sure you don’t have to participate.”

“I don’t think I can do this, man. After this, I’m out.” For real this time.

“Let’s just get through this job. Then I’ll go to Chicago with you, talk to Vito. Okay?”

“Sure.” It was a lie. I didn’t need Esau to fight my battles. But I was fine with letting him think he could.

“Good. All right. I’ll be back at nine. He was gone for six hours of my shift and I couldn’t follow him. I’m worried he’s going to disappear. Once it’s dark, we’re going in.”

“Cool. See you then.”

 

*

 

“Why are we hiding behind a ficus?” For all of Esau’s complaining, and he hadn’t shut up since we left the car, he was still doing everything I said. Right then, that meant crouching behind a tree trunk.

BOOK: Dirty Money
12.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Winter War by Niall Teasdale
Varius: #9 (Luna Lodge) by Madison Stevens
Murder Shoots the Bull by Anne George
Leather Wings by Marilyn Duckworth
Doreen by Ilana Manaster
The Maid of Lorne by Terri Brisbin
Awakening Amelia by Kate Pearce
The Hamilton Heir by Valerie Hansen
Collected Fictions by Jorge Luis Borges, Andrew Hurley