Deadfall

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Deadfall Page 27

by Stephen Wallenfels


  Tweaker Teeth looks at the stump. Takes a beat. Then he closes the distance between us and walks behind me. “I think you’re full of shit.” He presses the gun into the center of my back, nudges me toward the stump. “Time to start digging.”

  This can’t happen. My mind races for an answer. “He called it Coyote Rock.”

  “What?”

  “He killed a coyote and used it to mark the spot.”

  “There’s a dead coyote behind that rock?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you’re lying, then this is over here and now.”

  I lead him to the opposite side of the boulder.

  He looks down and says, “Looks like we got us a treasure hunt.”

  LUSTER, OR.

  ONE DAY AGO

  57

  The Motts left for church just like they did every Sunday. Cory and Ty went with them occasionally, but not recently, and especially not today. As soon as they turned out of the driveway, Phase Two was launched. They made their beds, put their clothes in the laundry hamper. Everything they needed to wear on this trip was already in their backpacks in the storage room, loaded and ready to go. Cory grabbed the thank-you cards he and Ty had written to Charlene and the kids, then took one last look around to make sure they didn’t miss anything while Ty gave Pavlov a goodbye belly rub. They left the ski lodge with a full tank of gas at 9:33 a.m., three minutes behind schedule.

  The next stop was the Drip ’n’ Sip, where Cory accessed the Wi-Fi with his laptop. He made sure all the files were uploaded, the MailChimp email blast was still scheduled, the GoFundMe campaign was ready to launch, and the website was functional. There were zero visitors on the counter. That would change starting at noon tomorrow. When he finished, Cory walked behind the store to the dumpster, made sure no one was looking, then pulled the hard drive and tossed the laptop in with the garbage. Meanwhile Ty walked down to the mailbox on the corner and slipped in the thank-you cards. They would be delivered on Tuesday or Wednesday, latest. Cory and Ty met up at the Volvo and left for the next stop, the storage rental facility. They loaded up the back of the Volvo with the food and camping gear, then closed the door, locked it, and left.

  Cory checked his phone. 10:05 a.m. Five minutes late.

  Their last stop before departing Luster was the gazebo. Ty parked the Volvo in front of a big white boulder with the inscription: PARK FACILITIES MAINTAINED THANKS TO GENEROUS DONATIONS BY MOTT ENTERPRISES, INC. Ty leaned back against the Volvo and watched his brother walk out to the gazebo and tape an envelope under the bench. An email would arrive in Kayla’s in-box tomorrow and tell her where to look. Then Cory walked to the duck pond and tossed in the hard drive. There was a couple walking their dog that saw him do it. He didn’t care.

  On the way back to the Volvo, Cory felt so light his feet barely touched the ground. He hadn’t felt this free since…since…basically his entire life. He walked up to Ty, they hugged, then separated.

  Ty said, “How are you doing?”

  “Good. Real good.”

  Cory checked his phone. 10:17. He wanted to be leaving Luster city limits at 10:15. They were behind, but still inside the margin of error. He probably should’ve just drilled the hard drive and not bothered with the symbolism of tossing it in the pond, which was also built and paid for by Harvey. But the envelope, that he absolutely had to do. It was worth the time, whatever it cost. Cory said, “Let’s shut down the phones.”

  They turned off location services, turned off the phones, then placed them in a foil-lined cooler. Cory didn’t want the phones pinging any cell towers on the way there. Once they reached their destination, around eight tonight, it wouldn’t be a problem. He checked the coverages last night. There wasn’t a cell tower within fifty miles of where they were going.

  Per the plan, Cory would drive the first three-hour leg; then Ty would drive the mountain roads at night. Just as they opened their doors, they heard a horn, then a loud screeching of tires. Tony’s Jeep swung into the lot and parked directly behind them. They couldn’t back out. They couldn’t drive forward.

  He climbed out of the Jeep. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

  Ty said, “Move your car. We have places to go.”

  Tony walked to the Volvo and peered through the windows.

  Cory said, “Why are you here?”

  Tony returned to the Jeep, leaned back against the driver’s door like he had nothing better to do, frowned, and scratched his head. “So Harvey called from church. He never calls from church. A Rotary pal just told him that you rented a storage space for three months, and it expires tomorrow. He asked me to find you and call the second I make contact. I was on my way to the house, and guess who I spot at the park? In a Volvo loaded with groceries and a freaking ice ax. So now it’s my turn.” Tony popped a stick of gum in his mouth. “Why are you here?”

  “Just let us go,” Cory said, acutely aware that they were now outside the margin of error. “We know what we’re doing.”

  “Really? So this plan of yours includes car theft? Because I’m pretty sure Harvey didn’t approve whatever adventure you’re planning.”

  Ty took a menacing step toward Tony. Cory grabbed his arm. Ty shook it off.

  Tony said, “I was going to let you explain, but on second thought, I did promise Harvey I would call the second I make contact.” He tapped his phone while keeping a wary eye on Ty. Tony held the phone to his ear. “I’m at the park. Call me.” Then, to the boys, “You’ve got about sixty seconds. Speak.”

  Cory wasn’t sure what he’d say, or if he’d find the voice to say it. All he knew was that he’d buried his emotions deep, under layers that piled up year after year. Down where light died and bones turned to ash. But he felt it stirring, the hurt and disappointment rising up and then it was there, ready to explode from his broken soul and it was all he could do to stop from screaming through the pain. He said through clenched teeth, “We’re tired of all the lies and bullshit.”

  “What lies and bullshit?”

  “These people we’re supposed to look up to and respect. We’re supposed to trust them. Believe in them. Be like them. And then they feed us more lies and bullshit. We’re done, Tony. Let us go.”

  “What people? Give me specifics.”

  “We know about you and Harvey and the secret cars.”

  After a beat, “What cars?”

  “I followed you in the Audi TT to a house in Hillview Heights. You switched cars with Harvey. Then I followed Harvey.”

  Tony stared.

  Cory felt tears coming. This time, he held them back. “Do you know who he was meeting?”

  “No.”

  “You never asked?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He…he looked the other way for me. I looked the other way for him.”

  “Big mistake.” Cory looked at Ty. Ty nodded. “He was meeting Kayla.”

  Tony shook his head. “No. No, you’re wrong. He said he was meeting an old friend from high school.”

  Ty snorted. “We have video, dude. It’s over.”

  Tony looked at Ty, then Cory.

  Cory said, “You let it happen. You’re supposed to be protecting kids from predators like him.”

  “I didn’t…” Tony closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, his chin tucked into his chest.

  “We’re checking out of the ski lodge. And we’re taking Harvey’s car. But we’re leaving a little something behind. It probably won’t go over very well. Harvey isn’t a fan of surprises.”

  Tony head snapped up, his eyes wide in alarm. “What did you do?”

  “You’ll find out. Tomorrow.”

  Tony’s phone rang.

  Ty said, “Leave it.”

  Tony muttered, “Sorry, guys. I gotta do this.” He took a breath, tapped the face, pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey. I’m still at the park…. Yeah, I found them.” He listened, then with his eyes on Cory and Ty, “No, it’s all good. Cory’s at the Drip ’n’
Sip. He said Ty’s at the gym…. I don’t know why they aren’t answering the phones…. Yeah, you can relax. They’re okay…. You’re welcome. Sure, I’ll stop by for lunch. We need to talk.” Tony ended the call, pocketed his phone. Ty started to speak. Tony held up his hand. “Not a word.” Then to Cory, “You sure about this? Car theft is a big deal. He won’t let it rest.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Wherever you’re going, I hope it’s better than here. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I let you down. I let Kayla down. You all deserved better.” Tony got into his Jeep. He started the engine, rolled down his window. “You may think you’re off the hook with the judge, but you’re not. Catch and release, guys. That’s what he does.” Tony drove away.

  They climbed into the Volvo. Cory wasn’t sure he could drive, wasn’t sure his stomach would settle. But it did the second he saw the welcome to luster sign shrink to a dot in his rearview mirror.

  Ty said, “You okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then it’s you an’ me, dude.” Ty grinned, pushed play on the CD player and cranked up the volume. With the Mountain Goats singing their getaway song, “Palmcorder Yajna,” he screamed over the music, “Let’s go live like robbers and kings!”

  Cory accelerated to fifty-five, but not a mile more. He calculated the rate/time/distance to their destination and figured as long as there were no more delays, they’d be all right. The last thing he wanted to do is give the karma gods one more reason to mess with what was turning out to be a pretty awesome day.

  STUMPTOWN

  NOW

  58

  Tweaker Teeth hands me the ice ax, then stands behind me. I stare at the spike end. There’s dried blood. Ty’s blood. He says, “Like I told you, your brother got stupid. Start digging.”

  I sink the blade into the rotting carcass and drag it a few feet away. Then I pick a spot next to the boulder and slam the blade into the soft dirt, imagining it’s Tweaker Teeth’s skull. As I pry loose the first clump of dirt I say, “Did my brother do that to your eye?”

  “He landed a couple solid hits. But I jabbed him good in the shoulder. That took him down a few notches. I hit him again and he fell into the canyon. It was a fifty-foot drop at least. The water sounded like a runaway train. Ty’s a good fighter, but he sure as hell can’t fly.”

  I take a quick glance over my shoulder. He’s about twelve feet away, leaning back against a tree, his gun pointed at my back.

  He says, “You turn around again an’ I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

  I keep digging, thinking that if each blow moves me backward a few inches at a time I may get close enough for one desperate swing before he shoots me.

  He says, “She tell you anything about our operation?”

  “She didn’t talk.”

  Silence. Then: “That was definitely a problem.”

  “So tell me about your operation.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  His tone is friendly, like we’re chatting over coffee. Before today I’ll bet he hasn’t said ten words to me. He’s planning something. “How did Benny get involved?” I slam the blade down. Back up another inch.

  “It was your old man’s idea. At least the warehouse part.”

  “How’s that?”

  “The meth market was getting flooded with dealers, any yahoo with a beaker and Bunsen burner was setting up shop, cutting into our profit margins. Tirk decided it was time to whatcha call it? Di-versify. So a pimp at the titty bar told him the sex trafficking business did something like a hundred billion a year and he had buyers lined up in Mexico and LA. Tirk’s eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of Ju-ly!”

  “So where does Benny come in?” I back up another inch.

  “We needed a place to store the inventory. Someplace without nosy neighbors because this inventory had a tendency to be a little loud, you know what I’m sayin?” Cory hacked his way through a root. “Your old man found a cabin up here way the fuck off the beaten path and Tirk bought it with a suitcase fulla cash. We acquired our first asset and checked her into the warehouse. Sold her three days later to the buyer from Mex-i-co an’ we were off to the races! Hey, you better dig a little deeper or we’ll never find this damn treasure.” He pauses. I dig down into a clump of wet dirt, and wonder if this is it. This is when he pulls the trigger. But he keeps talking. “So like, Benny and I took turns watching the inventory while Tirk handled the business side. I liked it up here with all the trees an’ owls an’ shit, but it got lonely. Benny shot coyotes. I found other ways to occupy my time. Had to sample the inventory, make sure it was trained properly.” He laughs behind me. “That job had a very good benefits package, you know what I’m sayin’?”

  Down goes the blade. I back up another inch. Resist the urge to look over my shoulder. I ask, “Where’s Tirk?”

  “We had a falling-out with the buyer from Mexico. Seems he wasn’t placing the proper value on our commodity. That’s when Tirk had me reach out to Ty with a business opportunity. When your dipshit brother turned him down, I knew Tirk was ready to go in a different direction.”

  I freeze midblow. “Ty turned what down?”

  “He didn’t tell you about that?”

  “No.”

  “You just keep digging. Find that buried treasure. I’ll fill in the blanks.”

  It takes a huge effort on my part not to look at Stumptown, even for a second. I try not to think about Astrid and what she must be going through. Hopefully she’s sleeping. I focus on the hole—a hole that’s starting to get disturbingly big.

  I back up another inch.

  He says, “After the Benny barbecue you guys disappeared for a bit. Then Ty’s name shows up on the web. Turns out he can throw a decent fastball. I believe he was called the Steamer, or some shit like that. We traced you to Luster, took a little road trip. Tirk liked the setup you had. That was a big fucking upgrade, I tell you what! A mansion in the woods, an aer-o-plane, a judge with political aspirations. An’ best of all, he had a little girl—Chelsea, I believe? Cute as a damn button!”

  I clench my teeth. “Chloe.”

  “Right. Chloe. Anyway, Tirk figured with the kind of bank Harvey was pulling in, she’d be worth a mil, maybe a mil-five. We had the infrastructure in place. So he thought why not shake the ransom tree, see if it bears fruit? I mean, it had to be easier than dealing with the psycho machete man from Meh-he-co, right?”

  I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood.

  He says, “But that beast-dog was a problem. Like something out of the fucking Stone Age. We needed someone on the inside. Tirk told Ty if he helped line that up, then Benny’s debt would be forgiven an’ he’d tear up the shit we had on him. But if he didn’t join the team, then he’d come after both of you—and still snatch the girl. We thought he was on board, then something happened and he told Tirk to go fuck hisself.”

  “When was that?”

  “Late spring. Tirk sent me there to have a personal chat with Ty, make sure he was still on our team. But that hot register girl at the burger place with the hooties out to here? She said you guys were on a fishing trip.” I slam the blade so hard it sinks down to the shaft. Ty had this going on and he never told me. How could he do that?

  Tweaker Teeth says, “A couple weeks after that Ty called and told Tirk the deal was off, except not in those same words. So we were about to put our own plans in motion and settle up with you guys—an’ of course a deer steps in the road at the wrong damn time. Imagine my surprise when I find Ty in that Volvo! Talk about a mind fuck. That’s one for the record books! Then you idiots run off with my payday, and whooee! We’re off to the races all over again!”

  “Your payday? What about Tirk?” The cut on my hand from the accident has reopened. My blood is slicking the shaft, making it hard to dig. That’s okay. This can’t go on much longer. At some point he’s going to stop talking. I back up another inch.

  “I had a little complication with one of the gu
ests. She tried to check out early, which is strictly against hotel policy. That reduced our inventory by fifty percent. Then me an’ Tirk had differing opinions on how to deal with—what’s her name? I don’t recall.”

  “Her—” I stop myself just in time. “Her voice doesn’t work. She didn’t say.”

  He laughs. “April, Ashton, something like that. I’m so bad with names. Anyway, Tirk put her in the trunk and I was pretty sure at that point it was either him or me. I got proactive on his ass.”

  I remember Astrid telling me about the gunshots. “You killed him?”

  “More or less. Actually more than less.”

  I can’t believe he’s telling me everything. There has to be a reason. I slam the blade down. It clangs against a rock.

  He says, “That don’t sound like treasure to me.”

  “It’s here somewhere.” I’ve moved back almost five feet. That might be close enough.

  He says, “How tall are you?”

  His tone is different, like our conversation is about to end. It takes all my will not to turn around. “I’m six feet.”

  “Good. Then I’d say that hole is big enough.”

  I stop digging. Sweat drips from my forehead, runs into my eyes.

  He says, “Did you actually think I believed your horseshit story about the money being behind this rock? You don’t get to be the last man standing by being stupid.” His voice is close. I grip the shaft of the ice ax, hope that it doesn’t slip. He hisses, “I know the money’s in the stump.”

  I raise the ice ax, start my spin. A blinding pain expands into the back of my head. It staggers me. I drop to my knees, then the ground. The ice ax slips from my hand. He kicks me in the ribs twice. Then the side of my head. My mouth is full of dirt. I can’t breathe. I try to get up to my knees. Where is the ice ax? Maybe if I can—

  He kicks me again. Ribs break. I fall flat. Pain explodes in my chest.

  I hear a click.

 

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