“Hey, now wait a minute. This afternoon… It wasn’t me that started, you know, fooling around.”
Sherry regarded him steadily. “What’s the matter, Howie? You can’t even come out and say it?”
“Well, sure. But—”
“This afternoon was a bit of fun. I was in the mood to make somebody happy, and that’s all. It sure as hell didn’t mean that I’d stand around while assholes like you and Earl take Frankie for a ride.”
“You don’t want to shoot off your mouth like that,” Howie blustered. “Earl hears you, he’ll…”
“He’ll what?” Sherry asked.
There was a moment’s silence. This wasn’t going right at all, Howie thought. He looked at Sherry, thinking about how it had been this afternoon. Now she was saying it was like she’d been feeling sorry for him or something. Like he couldn’t get himself a piece of tail whenever he wanted. And she didn’t know Earl. Earl’d just punch out her lights before listening to her lip.
“What’ll Earl do?” Sherry repeated.
“I’d be real interested in hearing about that, too,” a new voice said.
The two of them stared at the newcomer. He’d come so silently across the lawn that neither of them had heard him approaching.
“Who the fuck are you?” Howie demanded, trying to cover his nervousness with bravado.
Bannon studied the two of them. He’d come in at the end of their argument, but he’d caught enough to get an idea as to who and what they were talking about.
“I’m here to see Frankie,” he said. “The name’s Tom Bannon. What happened here?”
“It’s a little complicated,” Sherry said.
“Well, how’s Frankie?”
“She’s fine. No, that’s not right. She’s taking it pretty good, but she’s still suffering from a mild state of shock.”
“What happened to her?”
“Someone attacked her. We were just driving by and scared the guy off, but she’s still a bit shaken up.”
Bannon’s gaze went to Howie, but Sherry shook her head.
“No,” she said. “That’s one thing I doubt he had anything to do with.”
“Hey,” Howie said. “I don’t need to take this kind of shit. If you—”
“Get out of my way,” Bannon said as he mounted the stairs. “I want to see Frankie.”
Howie moved aside. He glared at the man, then at Sherry. The fuckers. He was getting sick and tired of being pushed around. You took a whole lifetime of it, but you had to stand up sometime. Maybe now—what with his shoulder hurting and the fact that he’d lost his gun—maybe he had to hold off for now. But he was going to get even. With all of them.
He met Sherry’s gaze before she followed Bannon inside. Especially with you, sister, he thought. Christ, he wished Earl were here. Earl’d show them all. They wouldn’t be talking like this if Earl were around. They’d all be standing in a line, waiting to suck his dick. They’d do whatever Earl told them to do.
The door closed behind Sherry, but Howie didn’t bother following them in. He stood outside, listening to the night. He kept thinking that he was hearing snatches of that weird music, but just when he’d start to listen for it, it would disappear like it had never been.
That music did something to him. It made him feel strong and scared at the same time. Like something was going to hunt him down, but like he could be the hunter if he just stopped being so shit-assed scared of his own shadow. He wondered if he could find the spot where he’d dropped his gun last night. He wondered if it’d still be there.
Glancing at the house, he strode off into the night. He’d feel a lot better with that hunk of steel in his hand.
* * *
“Tony?” a man said when Valenti picked up the phone. There was something odd about the voice, like it was being run through electronics to disguise it.
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
“That’s not important. Thing is, Mario wants to know—what’s the bottom line on this deal? Someone comes sniffing around, do we send them home in a box, or what?”
“No one’s got to die on account of me,” Valenti said.
“Yeah, but if it comes down to it… Say the Don sends in Fucceri or one of the other heavy guns. There’s not going to be much chance for conversation, you know? What do you want? Just some time, or are you staying here?”
“I’m staying.”
“Then it’s going to be a war—you know that, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Valenti said. “But I don’t feel good about it.”
“Yeah. Who needs it?”
“Did Mario have his meet with the Magaddinos?”
“Yeah. He talked to Broadway Joe.”
“And?”
“Joe said he was calling it off,” the voice said. Before Valenti could relax, it added: “But he sent in his kid Louie and Johnny Maita.”
“Shit. So that’s it then.”
“’Fraid so, Tony. Listen, I’ll be in touch. You had visitors tonight, by the way. I caught Louie Fucceri casing the place, but I let him go till I had a chance to talk to you. So maybe you better be careful.”
“I get the picture.”
“Glad to hear that. Coraggio, Tony.”
“Sure.”
Valenti cradled the phone. Christ, they’d already been here. That fast. So what had stopped them? What were they waiting for? And who the hell did Mario have out in the bush watching out for him?
* * *
Howie couldn’t believe his luck. First pass out, taking an easy amble along the road leading up to Valenti’s, sticking to the grass verge and trying to remember where the stag had hit the car, and then he just about kicks his piece into the woods. He bent down and picked the gun up. The weight in his hand made him feel better immediately. That was the thing about a gun. When you carried one, people respected you. They just didn’t fuck around when they were looking down that metal bore.
He’d have to be careful firing the sucker, seeing how his shoulder wasn’t in any shit-hot shape yet. Maybe he’d be better off using it left-handedly. He transferred the gun to that hand. It felt a little awkward, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t like he was going target shooting. Anything he’d be firing at would be just a couple of feet away from him.
Unloading the gun—two spent shells and four unfired that he didn’t want to take a chance on, given how they’d been lying out in the rain—he tossed the contents of its cylinder into the bush and loaded it with some fresh shells he had in his pocket. All right, Mr. Cool-talking Tom Bannon. And you, too, Sherry. Time for you to kiss the gun.
Grinning, he started back for Frankie’s place.
* * *
Bannon nodded a greeting to Lisa, then went down on one knee in front of the chair where Frankie was sitting.
“How’re you doing?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Tony wanted to come down, but I talked him out of it. His leg’s giving him some trouble.”
“He’s all right, though?”
“Oh, sure.”
Frankie looked past Bannon’s shoulder, then her gaze returned to his face. “Where’s Ali?”
“Well, you know, we weren’t sure what was going down, so we didn’t think she should come. Besides, with what your friend here tells me, maybe it’d be a good idea if you spent another night up at Tony’s.”
Right now, Bannon didn’t trust anyone. There’d be time enough to tell Frankie about Ali once she was up at the house.
“I’m so tired of having to always depend on somebody else,” Frankie said.
“I know what you mean,” Bannon said. “But what the hell—it’s just for the night. Until we can figure out what went down and what we can do about it.”
“I wanted to call the police.”
“Well, I don’t know what they could do for you at this point, but maybe it’s not so bad an idea.”
“But Lisa and Sherry said I shouldn’t—that they’d just give me a hard time.”
Thank you, ladies, Bannon thought. “Listen,” he said. “Why don’t you just grab a few things and I’ll walk you up to the house, okay? We can talk it all out there.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Sherry said.
Lisa shook her head. “My turn.”
Sherry turned to Bannon after the two women went upstairs to pack some toothbrushes and the like. “Want to split a joint?”
“No thanks. I don’t smoke.” He followed her outside and stood on the porch while she lit up, wrinkling his nose as the sweet marijuana smoke drifted toward him.
“You disapprove?” she asked.
“No. I’m just not big on sucking any kind of smoke into my body.” He paused a moment, studying the dark lawn and the road beyond. “What happened?” he asked finally. “How bad did it get?”
Sherry explained briefly, but with enough detail to make Bannon’s eyes flash with anger.
“Wish I’d been here,” he said. “I’d have…” He shook his head. Tony was going to be pissed. Christ, he was pissed. “So she didn’t know the guy?” he asked.
“Nope. He was driving a beat-up old pickup, but none of us was together enough to take down the plates.”
“And you folks were just driving by?”
Sherry nodded. “Maybe you should know something else. Howie—the guy that I was talking to when you arrived? Well, he’s involved with Frankie’s ex. He got shot last night. I think they were trying to snatch her kid.”
Who got snatched by a buck deer and a girl with horns instead, Bannon thought. “Where do you fit in?”
“Earl and Howie showed up at a little party up near Calabogie—that was the first time either of us met them. It’s beginning to look now like it was a mistake.”
Bannon nodded. “You’d better watch out for them—especially Earl. From what I hear, he doesn’t mess around. He plays for keeps.”
“Oh, that’s just great.” Sherry studied him for a moment, then took a long drag from her joint. “I think we’re going to split—Frankie’s going to be all right with you, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. Thanks for what you did.”
“Sure.” Sherry looked over to Lisa’s car, “Wonder what happened to Howie.”
“Maybe he went for a walk.”
Sherry smiled humorlessly. “Maybe we’ll just leave without him.”
The door opened behind them and Lisa and Frankie stepped outside. Lisa shut off the lights and locked the door while Bannon took the small Adidas bag from Frankie.
“If we don’t see you again, take care,” Sherry said as she started for the car.
“We’ll do that,” Bannon replied.
“Hey, what about Howie?” Lisa asked as she followed Sherry.
“Fuck him.”
“I thought you were going to.”
Sherry didn’t bother to answer as she opened the door and got in. Bannon waited until Lisa was inside as well and the engine had turned over before he took Frankie’s arm. The car’s head beams stabbed the darkness, lighting up Frankie’s car and the side of the house near the lane.
“C’mon,” Bannon said.
He led her down the steps and started for the back of the house, waving to Sherry and Lisa as their car backed out of the lane. They were plunged into darkness when the car headed down the road, but Bannon knew where he was going. He’d been this way in the daylight already and he had an eye for detail. He’d automatically filed a picture of the area away in his head, so he had no trouble leading Frankie across the backyard to the road that would take them up to Valenti’s.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Frankie said as they neared the road. Her voice was quiet, almost natural, but Bannon could hear the tension in it. It sounded huskier than usual, too. “I thought Earl was bad enough, but this…”
“Everything’s going to work out,” he replied. “You’ll see.” But he wasn’t looking forward to telling her about Ali’s disappearance.
“God, I hope so. Because right now…” She turned to look at him, but the darkness hid his features. “It’s like winning all that money included a one-way ticket into a soap opera. Thank God Ali was staying with you and Tony. If she’d been at home by herself… That guy was just waiting for me in the driveway, Tom. And he was crazy. He started off telling me he wanted his dog back—as though I’d stolen it or something—and then he just… Then he just jumped me.” Bannon felt her shudder. “And there was nothing I could do. Nothing! He was so strong…”
“He’s dead meat if he shows his face around here again.”
“Are you…?” She hesitated. “This business that Tony used to be in—are you a part of it, too?”
“What kind of business is that?”
“Some kind of study group on the mob.”
“Tony told you that?”
“No, Ali did.”
Bannon nodded to himself. Smart kid. “You could say so, though I didn’t have the same connections that Tony did.”
“He’s pretty hard on himself, isn’t he?”
“Who—Tony?”
“I know the look—God knows, I’ve worn it often enough myself. There’s things he’s done that he’s not too proud of now. That’s how I felt when I first realized what I’d gotten myself into with Earl.”
“What do you mean?” Bannon asked, happy to keep the conversation going in the direction it was. If it kept her mind off what had happened tonight, if it helped to distance her a little bit from the immediacy of it, it could only help.
“I found out he was dealing drugs,” Frankie said. “Not just a little bit of weed like everybody was into smoking back in those days, but hard stuff. I thought he was cleaning offices at night—can you believe it? Talk about innocence. Instead, he was setting up these parties where they’d turn on kids who were twelve or thirteen—Ali’s age—selling dope, selling sex…”
“But you weren’t a part of it.”
“No. I thought I was pretty together, but I found out I didn’t know a thing.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Why do I feel so bad about it?” she said before he could ask. “How about the fact that everybody knew it was going on but me. People I thought were my friends—I couldn’t figure out why they were all drifting away. It got so I never left the apartment because I didn’t have anywhere to go.”
“Still,” Bannon said, “that’s all in the past now.”
Frankie shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like that—not with Earl being back.”
“You don’t have to worry about Earl,” Bannon said. “He’s going to be taken care of.”
“Maybe—but not by you, blondie.”
Bannon and Frankie froze at the new voice. Bannon started to reach into his pocket, but the barrel of a gun was thrust roughly against his back. Jesus, he thought. How goddamn stupid could you get? He should have realized when Sherry told him who Howie was that Howie wouldn’t just take off.
The lights of Valenti’s house could be seen in the distance, but they could just as well have been on the other side of the world for all the good they were going to do. A hand went into his jacket pocket and came out with his automatic.
“Well, look at this,” Howie said. “What a pretty little gun.”
Bannon felt Frankie trembling beside him. “Tom,” she asked. “What does he want?”
Howie grinned, feeling strong. “Maybe I just want you, babe.”
The words were just too close to those of the man who’d attacked her earlier this evening. The tension that had been slowly draining from her caught her with a snap. Her chest felt so tight she couldn’t breathe. She smelled the other man’s stale breath again. Felt his hands on her. Heard his voice.
Want you…want you…
Tearing free of Bannon’s arm, she bolted.
“No!” Bannon cried and turned, striking at the gun.
The .38 bucked in Howie’s hand. Its discharge sounded like an explosion as it went off. Shrill against the echoes
of the gunshot, Frankie screamed.
16
Riding the stag.
It was the most glorious thing that Ali had ever experienced…and the most frightening. The wind rushed by her ears, making a sound like music; hooves drummed its rhythm. She could feel the stag’s powerful muscles moving under her legs. Mally held on to her, laughing, while she clung to the stag’s neck, wanting to laugh, but wanting to cry as well.
There had been that moment of shock when Mally threw her up onto the creature’s back, the look on Tony and Tom’s faces as the stag pranced in front of them, and then it was off and running and the shock gave way to wonder. The stag moved in long graceful leaps and bounds, never jarring them when it landed, never throwing them from its back when its powerful leg muscles bunched and then lifted them all into the air again.
The old stone was gone, Tommy’s pipes and the dancing villagers with it. The night seemed to belong only to the three of them, and that was when the shock wore off and Ali’s fears rose front and center in her mind. She was alone in the night with some mythic creature and a wild girl. Abducted. And she—
For the first time she realized that they’d been running for too far and too long without crossing a highway or seeing the lights of a cabin or a house. The trees they were moving through seemed different from those of the forest behind Tony’s house. The pines were almost like redwoods, impossibly tall. Between each pine stand was a wild jumbled bush land of cedar, oak, maple, birch and elm. The air had grown colder. If Ali turned her head, she could see her breath frosting in the air.
She looked up as they went speeding through a clearing. A swollen moon hung low in the sky. The stars seemed too close—the sky too dark, the stars too bright. She had only a moment for this to register before they were in the forest again.
The ground was no longer on an even keel. The stag took them up a gradual incline that was spotted with the stone fists and gnarly knees of stone outcrops. The sound of the stag’s hooves was louder, as though the ground had become the resonating skin of a huge earthen drum. Where were they? Ali wanted to ask someone, but there was no one to hear her. Mally was still laughing and shouting something that was either in a foreign language or made up of nonsense words, for it didn’t make any sense. And how did you talk to a stag? She leaned closer against its neck.
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