Steal

by Jeff Elkins

  “I lost five hours a week ago. I was eating breakfast and then I woke up in the confessional and it was after lunch. No clue how I got there, or where those hours went,” Joseph said.

  “What about you?” Moe asked Calvin.

  “He knows better than to mess with me,” Calvin said.

  “I’ve been losing time too. Mostly in my car. I’ll get in and look at the clock. Then I’ll look at it again and twenty minutes have past, but I’m still sitting in my spot in the garage. I just didn’t want to believe it,” Robert said.

  “So he’s on us, but no harm yet. Just talking,” Moe reflected.

  “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Who’s Lance?” Stacie asked.

  “Lance is Moneta’s twin,” Baba explained. “They are like two sides of a coin. He has the opposite of her gift.”

  “The opposite?” Stacie asked.

  “I see memories, but what I’m really doing is strengthening them. When I share a memory with you, it gets clearer and stronger in your mind. Lance steals memories. He erases things from your mind. And what he takes never comes back,” Moe said.

  “I, evidently, had a hamster once,” Joe said in a mournful jest.

  “For two years. You called him Mr. Fluff,” Calvin added.

  “Lance and I got into a fight one day. Like brothers do. Now, I don’t remember anything about any hamster,” Joe said.

  “That’s messed up,” Stacie said.

  “Do we know why he’s here?” Robert asked. Moe could tell he wanted to start talking about this like it was a case, to make it less personal, less scary.

  “No. Just that he is back,” Moe said.

  Baba put out his stub of a cigar on the ground and said, “Alright then. You know what to do. Check your clocks every ten minutes. If you lose time, record it. If you have any kind of memory flash or weird dream, write it down. If you have surveillance, turn it on. If there is something you need to remember that you think he might want, video record it and put it in the cloud. And if you get a lead, text the rest of us. He’s here for something. Once he gets it, he’ll leave.”

  As Stacie and Moe walked back to the car, Stacie asked, “Everybody seemed scared back there. Even Baba. Is your brother like a killer or something?”

  “Lance is bad news. Where ever he goes, people get hurt. We need to figure out why he’s here and shut him down before he destroys too many lives,” Moe said.

  “So what do we do?” Stacie asked.

  “We do what we do. We find him and stop him,” Moe said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  As Moe stepped out of the car, she bent down and ran her hands through the soft grass. Mr. Thalberg was right. Everything about the house was perfect. The large home sat on a massive property. The wrap around porch was filled with comfortable looking chairs. Through the window, Moe could see kids playing and reading. The flower beds were brimming with vibrant colors of blooms. Even the yard was wonderfully green and weed-less.

  “Well, this seems too good to be true,” Stacie said, as she walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. She removed the wheelchair they’d stored there, unfolded it, and then, opened the back door for David.

  With Stacie’s help, David transitioned from the back of the car to the chair. Reaching out, he patted Stacie’s hand and mumbled something that sounded like a thank you.

  “You got it,” Stacie said, squeezing his shoulder. Looking at Moe, she said, “Our girl may need some help getting out.”

  “You two go ahead. I’ll bring her up in a sec,” Moe said.

  “You got it,” Stacie said, as she pushed David’s wheel chair up the drive toward the front of the house.

  Once they were far enough ahead not to hear what she was going to say, Moe opened the back door of the car and knelt down beside the nervous little girl sitting in the back seat. “How are you feeling?” Moe asked.

  “I’m scared,” Sarah said.

  “I understand. New places can be scary,” Moe said.

  “What if they are mean?” Sarah asked, looking at Moe, her bright eyes filled with fear.

  “My friend, Mr. Thalberg, told me these are very nice people who love to care for kids that need homes. And when Stacie and I met them last week, they seemed really great,” Moe offered.

  “You like them?” Sarah asked, looking toward the house.

  “I liked them a lot. And I think you will, too,” Moe said.

  “I don’t know them,” Sarah said.

  “But you’ll get to know them. And Stacie and I will come and visit. And Mr. David is going to come out, too,” Moe said.

  Tears began to well up in her eyes. “I just want to go home,” she said.

  Moe reached in the car and hugged her. Sarah latched onto Moe with both arms. “I know. I know. Maybe someday,” Moe said, as she rubbed Sarah’s back.

  “Are you going to find my dad? I miss my mom and dad,” Sarah said, crying into Moe’s shoulder.

  Tears filled Moe’s eyes as well. “I’m going to try really hard,” she said.

  They sat in silence for a moment, crying together. When Sarah’s tears began to recede, Moe said, “I have a present for you. Can I give it to you before we go up to the house?”

  “Yeah,” Sarah said, still holding tight to Moe’s neck.

  Moe smiled. “Well, you have to let go of me before I can give it to you,” she said.

  Sarah gave Moe’s neck one last squeeze and then let go. “What did you get me?” she asked, as she sat back in her seat.

  Moe reached into the front seat and retrieved a shoebox. Coming back to Sarah, she’ll knelt again and gave it to her.

  “What is it?” Sarah asked.

  “Open it,” Moe said with a laugh.

  Sarah cracked the lid and peered inside. “Oh wow,” she said, pulling the lid off all the way. The box was full of brightly colored shoelaces. “They’re just like yours,” Sarah exclaimed.

  “Yep. Give me your foot,” Moe said.

  Sarah turned her legs so they were both facing Moe. Taking a pair from the box, she handed Moe a bright yellow pair and said, “These ones.”

  As Moe unlaced Sarah’s shoes and worked the new laces in, she explained, “My mom gave me a box just like this one when I was your age, because I had special gifts, just like you do. And sometimes, that can be hard. There are going to be times when you want to show off to make people like you. Or sometimes, you are going to want to prove to people that you are special, especially if you feel like you are all alone. Whenever that happens, I want you to look down at these great colors and remember – in a world of plain, white shoelaces, you are bright and beautiful, and you don’t have to prove it to anybody. So if you are ever alone or scared, you just look down and remember who you are.”

  Sarah held her feet out and smile at her new laces. “I will,” she said with a smile.

  “Great,” Moe said, standing up. Holding her hand out, she added, “Now, why don’t we go and see your new home?”

  Sarah stepped out of the car, took Moe’s hand and said, “I’m ready.” And they walked together up the driveway toward the warm lights of the house.

  The following is an excerpt from Fight (the next book in the Adventures of Watkins and Howe series). Look for the book in June of 2019.

  Moe ran her hand across the bar. There was a film of sand on it. She liked the feel of it on her hand.

  “It keeps the bar from getting water rings on it,” Ami said as she took a swig from her beer. Dressed in her normal green t-shirt, black sweat pants, and combat boots, Ami had complained all the way to the hole-in-the-wall bar that as the tech expert on the team she didn’t actually have to be here tonight, but she had come anyway and Moe was grateful.

  “Well, it just makes it look dirty,” Stacie said, also taking a sip of her beer. She grimaced as she swallowed and passed it to Ami. “I’ve never understood the fascination. What do you think the chances are the bartender could put together a good martini?”

  M
oe looked down the dimly lit space at the old man behind the bar. His fingers were covered in band-aids and there were no less than six stains on his flannel shirt. As he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, Moe said with a laugh, “I don’t think this is a martini kind of place.”

  Stacie shook her head in frustration and said, “After we do this, you owe me a real drink.”

  Moe smiled at Stacie and rubbed her back. “You got it,” she said.

  There was a commotion of celebration as Johnny Cash’s Cocaine Blues began to play in the background. Moe turned on her stool to watch the reaction of the room. The dimly lit bar was surprisingly full. Most of the patrons were men who looked weary from a long day’s work. There were a few women scattered around. Most of them seemed to know one another.

  The door opened and Moe turned to see Francine enter. The thin professional bodyguard was the only person in the room wearing a suit. Crossing the room with military precision, she took the stool next to Stacie. Motioning to the bartender for a beer, she said, “Ladies.”

  “Thanks for coming, Francine. I know you are busy. I appreciate you taking time to help us with this,” Moe said.

  “Of course. Anything for my favorite people,” she said as she slipped the bartender a twenty and took the beer from him. “So, when is this guy showing up?” Francine said as she swiveled in her chair to watch the room.

  “His credit card said he’s here every Tuesday by 9:30,” Ami said as she finished her beer and started drinking the one Stacie had passed her.

  “He’s late,” Francine said.

  “He’ll be here,” Moe said.

  “It would be easier to wait if the location served martinis,” Stacie said, tracing a pattern in the sand on the bar.

  “Probably better you aren’t drinking. You need to be sharp,” Francine said in her typical mothering tone.

  “Why do you get to drink and I don’t?” Stacie complained.

  “Tonight, my job is safer than yours,” Francine said.

  “I don’t know that that’s true,” Moe said.

  The door to the bar opened again and a tall man stepped through. In his trench coat length leather jacket, his goatee, and his sunglasses, he so matched the stereotype of drug dealing thug it almost seemed intentional. Moe’s mind raced with the memory of the man standing in Sarah’s house, holding down Sarah’s dad, as Sarah’s mom lay lifeless on the floor of their home. Through the neighbor’s eyes, Moe had watched this man drag Sarah’s dad from the house and stuff him in a van. Moe’s heart raced as images filled her mind of Sarah’s mom laying on the floor, her blood pooling around her head. “That’s him,” Moe said.

  Without turning away from her beer, Ami began to remind the team of the details she’d gathered, “Giovanni Corbi. Mid-level thug. Drug dealer – mostly heroin but looking to expand. From his arrest record, it seems like his primary job is driving up to New York, picking up the dope, and driving it back down. Grew up in Brooklynn Park. Dropped out of Benjamin Franklin High School his junior year. He’s been arrested three times, mostly for minor offenses. He’s spent seven of the past fifteen years on the inside.”

  Moe looked down at her shoelaces. Wine red with glitter had been the right choice. She liked how the silver flecks sparkled in the dim light as she moved her feet left and right. She felt her confidence building in her chest. They could do this. Tonight, Giovanni was going away for a long time. “Everyone knows their job?” Moe asked.

  Stacie turned on her stool to face the room. “We got this,” she said.

  Francine took a long drink of her beer, draining the glass. There was a faint cracking sound as she stretched her neck to the right and then the left. She rolled her shoulders and said, “See you out back.” Standing, she walked out the front door.

  “See you in a few,” Ami said as she drained the last of Stacie’s beer, stood, and followed Francine out.

  Moe and Stacie watched as Giovanni joined a group of men in the far corner of the room. They celebrated as he sat down at their table, patting him on the back and laughing. Moe figured they were excited about the big score of black-market prescription drugs Ami had arranged online by anonymously putting Giovanni into contact with a supplier in Philly. It was a big win for Giovanni. He was moving up in the world.

  “You ready?” Moe said.

  “Please. My job is easy. You’ve got the rough part of this. You sure you want to go digging around inside that one’s head?” Stacie asked.

  “It’s for Sarah,” Moe said thinking of the little girl living in foster care because her parents had been ripped away from her.

  “For Sarah,” Stacie said. Turning to the bartender, she ordered two shots of whiskey. Taking a shot glass in each hand, she said, “Let’s do this.”

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Moe said.

  Stacie took a deep breath, flashed Moe her best seductive smile, stood, and crossed the room to Giovani’s table. Putting one of the shot glasses in front of the thug, she toasted with him. They both threw back their shots and the table cheered. Stacie motioned to the bartender to bring two more and then she sat in the big man’s lap. Watching the thug put his hands on Stacie made Moe’s blood boil. While she knew it was all part of the plan, she didn’t want that monster anywhere near her friend.

  Stacie only waited a minute before she leaned into Giovani and whispered something into his ear. The large man grinned with excitement and took his second shot. Stacie stood, took him by the hand, and pulled him down a hallway that led to the bathrooms and the rear exit of the bar.

  Moe leaped to her feet and followed behind them. Turning down the hall, she felt the cool Fall air from the alley outback on her face. Stacie made eye contact with Moe as she pushed the back door open and pulled Giovani into the alley with her. The thug was so completely focused on Stacie and the treatment he thought he was about to receive that he was taken completely by surprise when Francine shattered his knee with a sharp kick. Before he could do more than grunt in pain, Francine finished her attack with a fierce right cross to his temple. Giovani swayed and for a moment. Moe thought Francine would need to hit him again, but the huge man tipped forward and slammed into the ground.

  Moe raced into the alley. Looking up at Stacie, she said, “You good.”

  “Please. Piece of cake,” Stacie said.

  Ami stepped from the shadows of the alley and began searching Giovani’s pockets. Retrieving the large man’s phone, she took her own phone from her pocket and connected the two phones with a white cord. “45 seconds to finish the clone,” she said.

  “Do you’re thing and let’s go,” Francine said, looking over Moe’s shoulder down the hall.

  Moe knelt beside Giovanni, placed her hands on his head, and began to search his memories for the prescription drugs.

  Eminem’s angry, playful, fast-paced voice filled the car. The bass rattled the windows. Moe recognized the beat as Lucky You. It was Giovanni’s favorite. He’d had it on repeat for the last hour. He bounced his head to the beat as he slowed the car and came to a complete stop at the stop sign. The last thing he needed right now was to get pulled over for something stupid, not with what he had in the trunk. This was his come-up. He couldn’t blow it.

  The song transitioned to My Mom. Moe considered switching it back, but Giovani decided that this one was good too. Moe crept the car forward through the intersection. Giovani was so ready to offload this stuff. He didn’t like driving around with it. His phone pinged. Taking out of his pocket, Moe read the message. It was from Big Mike. “Where the F is u. I ain't wait here for u all day u said we gonna party.”

  Moe smiled at the text and wrote back, “be there in 30.” Giovani’s mouth started to water at the thought of celebrating with everyone tonight. Moe slowed the car. She was here. Reaching to the visor, she pressed the button on the garage door opener. Three houses up, a garage door sprang to life.

  This was the moment Moe needed. She looked up and down the street, studying the block. The house wa
s the fifth one. Giovani knew the address was 128 Hilltop Road, but the garage was on the side street Lethbridge Road. It was Giovani’s sister’s house. She let him use the garage without asking any questions. Now that she had the address, Moe considered pulling out of his memory, but she knew she needed to stay to make sure he left the drugs there.

  Giovani parked the car in front of the open garage. He sighed with relief. Tired of the current song, he pulled up his phone and hit the next button on Spotify. The comic beat of Just Lose It rang through the car and Moe laughed with Giovani's voice. It was like Spotify was reading his mind. Giovani had planned to wait until the bar, but he told himself a bump right now couldn’t hurt. Taking a small glass vial from his pocket, Moe screwed the cap off and tapped out a line of white powder on the dashboard. Holding one nostril with her finger, Moe snorted the line. She clenched her teeth as a surge of energy ran through her veins. “Woo!” she screamed as her heart started to race. Giovani loved this feeling.

  Jumping out of the car, she ran to the trunk. She looked up and down the street. It was as empty as it always was. Popping the trunk, he looked at four boxes of pills. He knew each box had fifty vials. His mind raced trying to do the math, but numbers were never his strength. It didn't matter. It was the biggest score he’d ever seen. Moe grabbed the first box and jogged into the garage. She laid it in the back corner and snatched a tarp to throw over it. Then she remembered there were three other boxes in the car. She laughed and ran back to the trunk.

  Moe pulled out of Giovani’s memory. She had what she needed. She tried to stand but fell backward. She could still feel the cocaine rushing through Giovani’s blood. Her head was spinning. The aggressive sound of Eminem rang in her ears.

  Francine caught her before she fell. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Stacie came to Moe’s other side and put Moe’s arm around her neck. “This happens. It’s hard for her to pull out of a memory,” Stacie said.