by Ali Vali
“I have a right to know if you’ve made any progress, Agent. I want my son back, and you promised me results.”
Kyle looked at her and found someone to vent his bad mood on. “I can’t demand she start doing business as usual so your helping us bug her room won’t go to waste, now can I? Get your butt back down there and let us do our jobs. You lived with the woman for years, so you know she’s not stupid. Casey isn’t going to suddenly start talking up a storm. She’s too careful to say anything that’ll lead us to a conviction. You and your mother knew going in this might not work.”
“That’s not exactly how you pitched it.”
“This conversation is over, Emma. You are free to leave.” Kyle bowed his head to his paperwork, fully expecting her to be gone when he decided to look back up.
When Cain spotted Emma coming down the loft ladder, something inside of her snapped and she curled her hands into fists. Here was her Judas, and she fought the urge to choke the life out of her. In her mind, helping Kyle was the ultimate betrayal, tantamount to throwing away everything they had shared. Furious, she decided to inflict on Emma the same kind of pain she was feeling now. The game had begun, and all she wanted now was to play it out.
“Hey, guys, I didn’t realize you were back.” Emma scrambled for a reason she had been in the loft, in case Cain asked.
“We went in for breakfast at Mabel’s,” said Hayden.
“You must be full, then.” Emma tried to make a joke as she watched Cain’s face turn more glacial by the second. “Any way I can convince you to finish our talk from yesterday?” she asked Cain, as she tried to find some of the affection the blue eyes always held for her.
“I’m thinking it’d be a waste of time since we have nothing more to talk about. Hayden, though, tells me he has more questions for you. Since we’re leaving tomorrow, why don’t you try answering a few?”
“Is something wrong, Cain?” Emma’s worry was starting to grow, and she heard it add a quiver to her voice.
Cain ignored the question and turned to her son. “Why don’t you try one more walk, and don’t back down from the hard questions. You have a right to know who your mother is and why she’s made the decisions she has, even if it changes the way you feel about me.”
“That would never happen,” Hayden said with confidence.
“Buddy, we all make choices in life that alter it in ways you can’t begin to fathom. Hindsight doesn’t make them better, and they change how you feel about yourself. So suffice it to say they change how other people see you. Even those who love you the most.”
She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently. “I know you hate when I say this, but bear with me this one time. It’ll take you getting older to fully understand what I just said, but years and experience under your belt won’t make it any less true.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“To hear you say that is my greatest accomplishment. I love you too, son, and at the end of your walk I’ll be here to answer the questions Emma can’t.”
“Cain, I don’t think this is a good idea.” As much as Emma wanted Hayden with her, she didn’t want to shatter completely his image of and feelings for Cain. To find out his parent was a cold-blooded killer would most likely make Hayden reject the one person he loved most.
“Like I said, Emma, I made a choice four years ago, and it cost me something precious. No amount of lamenting over it now is going to bring it back, so the boy has a right to know how we got here. He’s young, that’s true, but give him the benefit of an explanation of why his mother left.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Cain patted Hayden’s shoulder one more time and strode to the bunkhouse. Relaxing into the old chair next to the phone, she started making calls that in essence were the beginning of her downfall. Kyle’s men recorded call after call, full of the information Kyle had been waiting for.
When she returned to New Orleans, her Canadian supplier would deliver a warehouse full of contraband liquor, and Kyle would be waiting. Merrick listened in horror as the agents in the barn exchanged hugs and congratulations.
“I have faith in you, but I don’t understand why,” Merrick whispered into her ear.
Cain leaned forward and kissed the woman’s lips. “I want you to trust me to know what’s best for my family.”
“I do trust you, Cain. It’s the giving up I don’t understand.”
Cain smiled and kissed Merrick one more time. She cherished the woman’s loyalty.
“My father once told me a story about when he was a young man just learning the business. His father took him to a cockfight one night. It wasn’t something my grandfather did often, but some of his clients enjoyed that kind of thing. The sport of kings, I believe it’s called.”
Merrick, no matter what she did for a living, shivered at the thought of the barbaric sport.
Cain pulled the guard down to sit on the arm of her chair and kept hold of her hand when she got comfortable. “Pop said one of the last fights he saw that night was between a big bird with an impressive head of plumes and this small, insignificant-looking bird with a missing eye. As their owners threw them in the ring, the money started changing hands. This was back when twenty bucks meant a day’s pay, but he said most of the people there saw that big cock and pulled their wallets out. They were slapping money down to cover the growing odds and the two hadn’t exchanged a peck, but the spectators were sure the little one was going down.”
Merrick relaxed a little more, leaning against Cain and starting to realize what the moral of the story might be, but asking anyway. “What happened?”
“My grandfather pulled five hundred bucks out of his pocket and bet on the small bird, amidst the laughs of those around him who warned he was throwing his money away. For twenty minutes that big, good-looking rooster chased the shrimp around the ring without laying a beak on him, Pop said. He chalked it up to the small one’s fear of the inevitable, but when the big one showed the first weakness, he revealed his strategy.”
“A bird can formulate strategy?”
“According to Dalton Casey, Jr., it could. He said that little bird, dismissed by everyone there including himself, and most importantly his rival in the ring, turned and sunk his talons into all those pretty feathers. It was over in nothing flat, and the big rooster was dead. He said that bird taught him a valuable lesson—never take for granted what seems like ultimate victory or defeat. The winning or losing in anything comes in the playing, even for small, one-eyed birds.” Cain stopped and pointed to her eyes, hoping Merrick understood what she was saying. She wasn’t running, and she wasn’t half blind.
“When’s the shipment getting to the city?”
“Two weeks at our dock offices. The boxes will be labeled ‘sardines.’”
Merrick nodded and got up to start dinner.
Cain’s only thought was “good girl.” She had only two more things to do, and then they could all go home.
Chapter Nineteen
“Ross, it looks like you’ve got some shingles loose on the roof of the barn. Want me to climb up and check it out? It’ll save you a service call.” Cain looked up and pointed to the area she was talking about.
“You don’t mind?”
“I can’t wait.” She scaled easily to the first section of roofing next to the loft, with a hammer in her belt and a box of nails in her coat pocket. It only took a few minutes to check the shingles and remove the tapes and equipment she had left the night before. She chuckled as she imagined the agents on the other side of the wall holding their breath and praying she wouldn’t hear anything to alert her to their presence. She didn’t care about them, though; she stared off into the distance, where she could see Hayden and Emma in one of the pastures.
She wondered if she was asking too much of her son, considering his age, and tried to bury her guilt. Not for the choices she’d made, but for the real reason for allowing the talk he and Emma were having. “I’ve had to live with the co
nsequences of my life, Emma, but don’t think you get to walk away unscathed because of what you believe were your noble choices.” Her soft voice never reached the two people now in the middle of an empty pasture.
“I’m sorry, Hayden, for letting you find out about this in this way. As much as I love you, I’ve always been too afraid to tell you.” Her apology was also a prayer the boy wouldn’t walk away too scarred, but today Hayden would get the answer he had wanted for four years.
Two Weeks after Marie Casey’s Death
No one on the street paid attention to the marked police car making a routine stop. In this section of town the men in blue routinely hassled the residents for the smallest infraction, as an excuse to search for something more illegal than failing to use their turn signal. As the patrolman made his way to his door, Danny Baxter studied his face in the rearview mirror to make sure he didn’t have a trace of white powder around his nose.
“Is there a problem, officer?”
“Step out of the vehicle and come with me.” The leather utility belt creaked when the cop placed his hand over the holster near his gun and waited. “Don’t make me say it again,” he added when Danny didn’t move.
They walked to the unit together, and the patrolman held the back door open for him. Danny finally thought to look at the cop’s face. “No fucking way.”
“Come on, idiot. Someone’s waiting to see you,” said Merrick from the backseat. She pointed her gun at his head, and Cain’s other trusted guard Lou pressed his to Danny’s back.
Screaming or begging now would be futile, so he got in, deciding to save the dramatics for later when he could play on Cain’s sympathies. He recognized where they’d stopped and laughed at Cain’s sense of irony. Marie had spent her last tortured hours of life at this dilapidated shotgun house where most of the crackheads came to smoke their scores. Tonight it was quiet, but not for long.
The door lock clicked closed with such ease it belied the condition of the rotted-out building, and Merrick pushed him farther in to where Cain waited. Her boss stood at the rear of the house gazing out the kitchen window at the unkempt yard. In the center of the kitchen was the only piece of unbroken furniture in the place, a green Formica table with stained aluminum trim.
It had taken Cain some time, but she had pieced together where Marie had died. The table had to be the spot Danny used, since she could still see traces of dried blood on one of the legs and at one corner.
“Anyone follow you?” she asked, without turning around.
“Lou was careful. Nobody but the rats know we’re here.” Merrick didn’t lower the gun she had pointed at Danny’s head, motioning for him to move farther into the room. “You ready, boss?”
“You should’ve brought a chair if you’re tired, sweetheart. We’re going to be a while.”
“Who are you fucking kidding?” Danny decided to let his impatience show, hoping it would shorten the time he’d have to spend with his cousin. “Cut the bullshit and hit me some more if you want, but the tough act is crap.”
“Do you know the proper way to kill a goat, Danny?”
Lou, Merrick, and Danny all hiked their brows at the question. Cain wasn’t known for small talk in these situations.
“Lou, how about providing some incentive for him to answer the question.”
Lou delivered a punch to Danny’s left kidney that dropped him to his knees. The pained air escaping from her cousin’s lungs caused Cain to turn around and give him her full attention.
“What’s the answer?”
“How the fuck should I know?” he wheezed. “And why should I give a fuck?”
“That was always your problem, Danny.” Cain put her hands flat on the table and just stared at him. “You grew up never wanting to learn anything. Your aunt Therese married well, and my father was supposed to provide you a gun and a wad of cash for being a wiseguy. That’s what your daddy told you when he was sober enough, isn’t it?”
“My father raised me to be a man. He didn’t have to pretend like Dalton did.” Danny let out another long stream of air when Lou kicked his other kidney. No matter what, he wasn’t going to scream like he had the first time he found himself at the end of Cain’s ire.
“You think having a pair between your legs makes you a man?” Cain took a pair of leather gloves from her back pocket and started to put them on. “Or because you’re strong enough to make a woman do your bidding proves you’re superior?”
“You’ll never measure up to me, admit it. You need these assholes to hold me down to show how strong you are.”
“Help the man up, Lou,” she said.
Danny massaged his side when he got to his feet and glared at Cain. All of them could see he was getting angry.
“Just you and me, so show me. Show me what kind of man you are.”
He lunged for her, obviously hoping to knock her down with his momentum, but she moved at the last second, sending Danny’s head through the glass of the dirty window behind her. When he turned, blood was already running down his cheek. Her fist halted his next lunge when he got close enough. The blow to his nose made Danny double over and spit out a sudden spurt of blood.
When his head whipped back from the kick she delivered, she could hear the gurgle in his throat as he landed on his back. “Give up already?” She stood over him, careful to stay away from the spray coming from his mouth when Danny started coughing. “You should try a little harder, since we’ll be here until you beg me to kill you.”
“Fuck you.”
The insult only made her laugh. “Given any more thought to my question?” Cain waved Lou over and pointed to her cousin.
During the sleepless nights after Marie’s murder, she had spent the time thinking of how she was going to kill Danny. Many thought revenge didn’t squelch the pain. Cain, though, was more concerned with responsibility than with revenge. Danny would pay with his life for what he had done.
As the head of her family, she was responsible for seeing that he did. She couldn’t erase the pain of loss, but she could take some comfort in knowing Danny was burning in hell and she had stamped his one-way ticket. Yet she hoped she wasn’t becoming the type of person Emma had accused her of being four years earlier.
“Playtime’s over. For you anyway,” she said.
Behind her Merrick grabbed the length of rope hanging from the ceiling with a loop at one end.
While the guards had been out earlier picking Danny up, Cain had added one new fixture to the house. She had screwed a brass ring into one of the support beams over the doorway; it was so new it looked almost out of place. Pointing at it, she said, “My grandfather told me how his father had various methods for slaughtering different animals on their farm in Ireland.”
“I thought Dalton always bragged about how you come from a long line of bootleggers?” After he asked the question, Danny winced as Lou locked his hands in the cuffs again.
“A man can’t live on whiskey. You need a good stew to help you keep drinking.”
“What in the hell does that have to do with me?” asked Danny.
Tying one end around Danny’s ankles, Lou gave the rope a good tug pitching Danny forward, slamming his chest and face into the floor. Lou kept pulling until Danny was hanging upside down from the ceiling. With his head even with Cain’s waist, he could see perfectly what she was taking out of her pocket. The old switchblade had belonged to Dalton and had been one of the last gifts he’d given her before his death.
“What does that have to do with you?” she repeated his question. “Plenty.” The tip of her blade rested at the opening of Danny’s shirt. “You’re nothing but an animal, cousin, so that’s how I’m going to deal with you.”
Beads of sweat broke out on his brow when the sound of tearing fabric filled the silence. “Think about what you’re doing, Cain. I’m your family.”
She stopped her hand just before she plunged the knife into Danny’s heart for what he’d said. Instead, she moved to the hem of his pants, n
ot caring that she cut into his hip when she got to the bottom.
“You stopped being my family after what you tried in my house, with my wife.” The boxers he was wearing fell to the top of the pile on the floor.
“Shit, if you wanted some action you didn’t have to go through all this to get me here. We’re family, but if you want a piece of me, just ask.”
If Danny wanted to jibe anymore, the attempt died when she sliced off his right nipple, instantly eradicating his promise to not scream.
“Somehow I don’t think you would’ve accepted my invitation once you see what I have in mind.” She sat back on the edge of the table and watched as rivulets of blood made their way from Danny’s chest to his face.
“What’d you do that for?” Danny sobbed.
“Call it foreplay.” She felt calm as she put the knife down and accepted a belt from Merrick. “We could waste each other’s time with me asking why you lost your mind and killed Marie, and you denying it, so we’re going to skip that.”
“That’s what this is about? Hell, you should be thanking me for getting rid of that anchor.”
The slap of leather against his mouth opened a new cut on his lip, shutting Danny up once again. She hit him next over the open hole in his chest, wrenching another scream.
“You grew up around Marie. She was never an anchor to anyone who counted. That definition fits your family perfectly, so shut the fuck up.” She swung again, hitting his chest and making sure the belt hit right on his wound again. “After all, we haven’t finished our talk about the goat.” She noticed his tears mixing in with blood when she picked up the knife again.
“If you’re going to kill me, then go ahead.”
“I’m going to kill you, Danny, but it’ll be anything but fast. You know me better than that.” She cocked her head to one side and continued to glare at him. “My grandfather told me when you kill a goat, to keep the meat from tasting gamey, you have to bleed it. You cut slowly.” Belying her statement, she quickly sliced away his left nipple.
