The Murder Run

by Michael P. King

  “I’ve got video of you and your guy in Clemens’s apartment. Looks like you killed your partners, killed the Chens, and kept all the loot for yourself.”

  “That’s just BS.”

  “You’re made for this. Murder squad won’t look any farther.”

  “What if I tell them that your guy was at Chen’s and he has the envelope from Clemens’s safe?”

  “When they quit laughing? Nobody will listen to you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You’re going to get that envelope back.”

  “Talk to your associate.”

  “You want to be on my good side when the cavalry rolls in? Some folks are going to get clean away, and others are going for an extended stay at a black site.”

  “I could say yes and then run.”

  “Let me show you how I help my friends.” Garcia pulled her laptop from her shoulder bag, opened it on the table, and put in a password. “What does this look like to you?”

  Tony studied the screen. It was an FBI database.

  “I can put stuff in, and I can take stuff out.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She inputted a case file number. Tony looked at the page. Gun running into Mexico. The Crazy Devils motorcycle gang. He and Nicole had made some good money on that scam.

  “What do you think happens if I mark this case complete? The principal is in supermax; his lieutenants are lifers. You and your woman are the only ones left to be got.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “What have you got to lose? You help me out, I’ll help you out.” She put away her laptop and set a cell phone on the table. “Here’s a burner. Keep me in the loop.”

  Garcia left. Missy pulled back the curtain and watched her get into a Ford with a federal license plate. “Think she was real?”

  “She acted real enough. And since she wants me to get the envelope, she must think the other guy is dirty. She wouldn’t be making me an offer if she wasn’t afraid she had a leak.”

  “Should we change motels?”

  “No, changing motels would just make her think we’re stupid.”

  “You going to help her?”

  “I’m going to find a way to use her. If that involves helping her, yeah, I’ll help her,” Tony said.

  “So our plan stays the same?”

  “Clemens is still the key.”

  “If we’re staying here, I’m going to the Quick Stop. Want anything?” Missy asked.

  “Get some beer. I don’t care what kind. And don’t go to the Quick Stop on the corner. You’ll want some room in case you pick up a tail.”

  “How would the bad guys find us?”

  He handed her the car keys. “Got to assume they know where to look.”

  She got on the interstate and drove down two exits before she got off on Chandler Trail. There was a Stop-N-Go on the corner. She pulled in and parked facing out. Before she went into the store, she called Robertson. “Hey, it’s me. One of your people showed up. She wants help getting the envelope back.”

  “Who?”

  “Garcia.”

  “I know who you’re talking about. Did you share any info with her?”

  “No.”

  “Did she show her hand?”

  “No, she just spun out a hypothetical to try to scare my guy.”

  “Did it work?”

  “My guy doesn’t scare.”

  “With Garcia in the mix, I need to do some homework. What’s the safecracker’s name?”

  “I’m not telling you that. You start snooping, he finds out, I’m dead.”

  “You think I’m that stupid?”

  “I think your friends don’t give a shit.”

  “He still planning on snatching Clemens?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do whatever you have to do to stay out of the way tomorrow.”

  Later, in the motel room, while Missy was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, Tony sat at the table watching the door to the bathroom. There was something about her that made him uneasy, something he just couldn’t put his finger on. Missy had been very helpful so far. Almost too helpful. Coming in with him. Offering Joan. The drive-by at the drug house. Agreeing to the airport plan. She didn’t even bail after Garcia had turned up. Why? She should have been arguing about something. Sure, she probably was really afraid of being murdered by the bad guys. Maybe she was even afraid for her girlfriend. But that just didn’t seem like enough to keep her in this game. What did she know that she wasn’t sharing? If Nicole were here, they would have cut Missy loose as soon as they had known she wasn’t responsible for Duke’s and Barker’s murders. But Nicole wasn’t here, and he needed a partner. But not a partner who’d betray him.

  Missy had claimed she was just the go-between, that all she’d done was put him and Chen together. And maybe that was true. Or maybe she’d followed Duke and Barker from the job. Had some guys ready to go. Planned to hijack the diamonds but didn’t find them. All the rest of it could be exactly the same: bad guys murdering the Chens, hunting the supposed blackmail envelope, Clemens being their only lead. But if that was the real story, why hadn’t she tried to take the diamonds and the cash? She knew he had them. She didn’t know the diamonds were in the PO box. Was she just hoping to make sure he was dead before she made her play? Was she that afraid he’d come after her? He heard the toilet flush.

  If he needed to kill her, now would be better than later. She wasn’t going to be much use tomorrow. Running and gunning and kidnapping weren’t in her wheelhouse. But she could drive, and she had plenty of local connections. So maybe she could still be useful. Besides, he didn’t want to kill her if she wasn’t a bad player. Bodies drew cops like picnics drew ants.

  When Missy came out of the bathroom wearing men’s pajamas, Tony heard Nicole’s voice in his head: You know you can’t trust her.

  “What are you looking at?” Missy asked.

  Tony smiled. He needed to keep her off her guard. “You really do prefer men’s clothes.”

  “You think I’m going to get all sexy for you?”

  “Not trying to go there,” Tony said.

  “I know all about you and your woman. You’ll sleep with anyone to cement a con.”

  “And you won’t?”

  “I’ve got standards.”

  “You only lie to beautiful women.”

  “I only sleep with beautiful women,” Missy said.

  “And your girl Betty? Is she window dressing or true love?”

  “Why you asking?”

  “Seems like a fair question to me.”

  “She’s none of your business. She’s not in the game.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not kidding.”

  “I hear you.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “You done in there?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tony went into the bathroom. Loyal to her girl. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. And she was afraid he’d find a way to manipulate her. He closed the door and turned on the faucet. Or maybe she didn’t give a shit about Betty. Maybe this show of sentimentality was her way of trying to manipulate him. There were always multiple interpretations of any behavior. Bottom line, he’d never be able to trust her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use her. At least for now. He just needed to take precautions in case she planned to sell him out.

  Back in the San Francisco Bay Area, it was Ladies Night at Lucky Joe’s. Lily had found out about this place from an old boyfriend. It was located in a rundown neighborhood not all that far by car from the regentrifying zone where she lived, and it was safe for women on their own. Lily was standing with two men at the bar. The music was loud. Country top forty. She’d come in for a drink when she’d noticed these guys in the back. They were business guys, middle-aged, they’d lost their neckties somewhere, and they didn’t belong here among the construction workers and the Walmart checkers. So she’d sashayed back to flirt some free drinks. The younger one, a pudgy guy with a shaved head and a sad
mustache, was the talker. The other one, tall and thin with a bad comb-over, seemed to be his boss. As she sipped her martini, batted her eyes, brushed against them, made her small talk, she became bored. These guys were looking for hookers, and that wasn’t her. She kept thinking about the wedding reception, taking the Porsche convertible, driving down the boulevard. Nicole had been there, but she’d lifted the keys herself. It was surprisingly easy to do. Could she do it again?

  She lurched into Shaved Head, ran her hands up and down the front of his jacket as if she were trying to get her balance, slipped her hand into his jacket pocket, and palmed his car key fob. “Whoa,” she said. “Did you see that guy bump into me?” She picked up her martini and took a drink. “Don’t run away, guys. I’m going to the ladies’.”

  She squeezed through a knot of dancers in front of the band—cowboy hats and lizard-skin boots—glanced over her shoulder to make sure Shaved Head and Comb-over weren’t watching her, scooted past the women’s restroom, and pushed through the back door into the parking lot. What was he driving? She squinted at the fob. BMW. She pressed the Unlock button as she walked. The taillights flashed on a blue BMW sedan.

  Just then, the back door slammed behind her. “Stop!”

  Shaved Head was running toward her, Comb-over sauntering after him with his hands in his pockets and a bemused look on his face.

  She put one hand on the trunk of the BMW and cocked her head as if she were drunk. “What’s up?”

  “You stole my car keys.”

  “Car keys?” She glanced around as if she expected them to be lying on the pavement instead of in her hand.

  He grabbed her wrist and snatched the fob from her. “You little bitch.”

  She tried to move away, but he jerked her around, smacked her, and pushed her into Comb-over’s arms.

  “I’ll scream.”

  “Shut up.” He dug through her purse until he found her driver’s license. “Lily Crockett.” He tossed the purse onto the trunk of the car. “Well, Lily, you can work this off, or you can go to jail.”

  Everything was happening in slow motion. She looked from one to the other, their leering grins and glassy eyes. She was trapped between the cars. Her lip tasted of blood. She wasn’t going to let them fuck her. And she couldn’t get arrested. She tried to push past Comb-over, but Shaved Head grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around against the car.

  “Let go of me.”

  “You can quit pretending. We’ve seen all the tricks you little whores play.”

  She kicked him in the shin. He gripped her forearms and forced his knee between her legs. His breath smelled of whiskey and bar food.

  A woman yelled, “Let her go!”

  Lily turned. A man and a woman were coming across the parking lot, the woman in front, yelling and pointing. The man was digging his phone from his pocket.

  Shaved Head pushed her away. He yelled at Comb-over, “Let’s go!”

  Lily stumbled to the far end of the parking stall.

  Shaved Head grabbed her purse off the trunk. He and Comb-over jumped into the BMW and screeched out of the lot.

  Lily was sitting on the asphalt. Her heart was pounding. She was gasping for air. The woman knelt down beside her. “Are you okay, sugar?”

  “My bag. Do you see my bag?”

  The man shook his head.

  The woman rubbed Lily’s back. “Do you want us to call the police? Do you need help?”

  Lily crawled up the fender of the car in the next stall. “No. I’m okay.”

  “You sure? Those guys belong in jail. We saw the whole thing.”

  “No, I’m okay.” Lily started walking away.

  “Do you need a ride? Our car is right here. Let us help you.”

  “I thought you’d be home by now.” Martha Robertson’s voice on the phone had a hard edge.

  “Me too,” Robertson said. He was sitting up, fully clothed, on the bed in a hotel room in Mitchellville. The side table lamp was on, creating a pool of light in the otherwise dark room.

  “Where are you anyway?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that. How were the mountains? Did Meagan go with you?”

  “She did. The quilt show was amazing—lots of beautiful patterns. One quilt was like the one your mother keeps in the spare bedroom. The bluegrass was what you’d expect. A few great pickers and a lot of enthusiasm. And we went horseback riding on some forest trails. Not my thing, as you well know, but Meagan wanted to go. It wasn’t too bad. I didn’t fall off.”

  “Sounds like you had a good time.”

  “A great time. Most of the food was mediocre, but that French restaurant you googled ahead of time was fabulous.”

  “I’m glad. Wish I could have been there. I’m hoping to get home in a couple more days.”

  “I’m not holding my breath.”

  “I didn’t do this on purpose. I go where they send me.”

  “Craig called. He was surprised you weren’t with me.”

  “That’s the kind of job this is, which is why I really can’t say anything about it. Just repeat after me: ‘Six months until full pension; six months until full pension.’”

  “Good night, dear.” She ended the call.

  Robertson turned on the TV. He should have been with her in the mountains. He’d never get out of couples’ counseling at this rate. If he could only tell her what he was up to, that he was securing their retirement, that he was doing this for her. But that was impossible now. Goddamn French and his paranoia. There hadn’t been any reason to kill anybody. If French had followed the plan to begin with, he wouldn’t have scared the hell out of Chen. But no, he was sure their Kyrgyzstani partners were dirty, so they had to go. Then Chen had to wet his pants. Now Chen was dead, and Clemens was going to die. And he was going to have to make sure that the local cops and the FBI never figured out who had committed the murders. He was beginning to wonder whether the money was worth the risk.

  Meanwhile, in San Francisco, Nicole wandered into the den in her pajamas, her robe fluttering behind her. Denison was sitting at one end of the sofa, reading something on his iPad. “There you are,” she said. “Wasn’t Bell supposed to call today?”

  “Yeah. Don’t know how I forgot to tell you. She’s having trouble finding a wedding venue.”

  “I thought she was going to keep things simple,” Nicole said.

  “It’s not like here. There aren’t that many places within driving range, and she’s been so busy teaching this semester that she started late.”

  “And now it’s hard to find a place for the date she wants.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Do you want anything in particular for the wedding?” Nicole said.

  “No. That’s something Stacey would have had definite opinions about. I just want Bell to be happy.”

  “What would Stacey have wanted?”

  “She liked a formal wedding. Fancy dress, women wearing hats, wedding held on the bride’s home turf. You should have seen Skip’s.”

  “So she’d be orchestrating the whole thing if she were still alive.”

  “She’d be driving Bell crazy. But since she’s not here—”

  “Bell is missing her mom.”

  “And I’m a poor substitute.”

  “But you’re Stacey’s proxy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you’ve got to keep on acting like you care about the details and you think she’s making good decisions.”

  “I’ll just be glad when it’s all over.”

  The doorbell rang. They both went to the front door. Lily stood on the stoop, her high heels in one hand. Her dress was torn. Her hair was disheveled, and her makeup was smeared. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Lily,” Nicole said.

  “This is Lily?” Denison asked.

  “I couldn’t go home,” Lily said.

  “Come in,” Nicole said. She put her arm around her. A car that had been idling at the curb drove away. Nicole glanced up and down the st
reet before she closed the door.

  “Who attacked you?” Nicole asked.

  “He got my bag. Some people gave me a ride.”

  She led Lily into the den. “Sit down.”

  Denison went to the side table and poured Lily a glass of whiskey. She sat on the sofa holding the glass with both hands.

  “Where were you at?” Nicole asked.

  “I was in this bar. Out in the parking lot, these guys jumped me. Some people helped me, brought me here.”

  “Start at the beginning.”

  Lily glanced from Nicole to Denison and back.

  Nicole sat down beside her. “It’s okay. You can talk in front of James.”

  “I was out messing around.”

  “By yourself?”

  She nodded. “I went into Lucky Joe’s. It’s fun there sometimes. Some business dudes were in there. Never seen them before.”

  “So you went to work on them.”

  “They caught me in the parking lot with their car keys.”

  “Jesus,” Denison said.

  “You should never do something like that on your own,” Nicole continued.

  “I know that now.”

  “So they smacked you around?”

  “I’ve never been so scared. They were going to fuck me for trying to take the car. I didn’t want them to beat me. Or call the cops. But then a couple came out of the bar. The woman screamed.”

  “And they brought you here?”

  “Yeah, but my handbag is gone. I think those guys have it—my driver’s license, credit cards, the works.”

  “You think they’re going to your apartment?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid to go there. And my other friends. . .” She looked at her lap.

  “You’re staying here tonight,” Denison said. He pointed at Nicole. “And you’re not going over there.”

  “Not tonight,” she said.

  “Am I the only grown-up in the room? You should call the cops.”

  “No cops,” Lily said.

  Nicole looked at Denison. “We don’t need to get into this now. I’m going to put Lily in Bell’s room.”

  She took Lily by the hand and led her down the hall and up the stairs.

  “I wouldn’t have come here if I had any place else to go,” Lily said.