The shadow moved again. She backed away, ready to turn and run, or scream and hope someone would call the police.
The shadow grew. Jenny’s back bumped into the wall opposite her door. It was almost a relief when she realized it was just a man and not a monster. Admitting to herself for the first time that she still half believed in the bogeyman. But it wasn’t Gordo, not big enough by half. An ax murderer? He was on the run from the cops and had broken into the building to escape. Now she had seen him, and he would have to kill her.
Jenny’s stomach twisted into knots. Should she scream for help or run? With heels on she probably couldn’t get down the stairs fast enough to get away. As the scream built in her throat and she opened her mouth to let it out, the shadow spoke. “You gonna let me in or what?” The voice sounded a lot like Ray Shane.
“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!” Jenny said, sitting across the kitchen table from Ray. The breakfast nook was small, but it was her favorite room in the apartment. Light, airy prints hung on the walls, creating a Mediterranean theme. The table was square, with a bleached wooden frame and the top made from Mexican tiles. Jenny’s heart still beat like a machine gun. “What happened to your face? My God, you look like you got hit by a fucking truck.”
Shane put a hand up to the cut above his eye. “I don’t think I ever heard you use the word fuck before. You just used it twice in the same sentence.”
Jenny took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “It wasn’t the same sentence. Same paragraph, maybe, but not the same sentence.” She was just glad it hadn’t been Gordo hiding in the shadows, waiting to try another run at her. Still, she was wondering why Ray had been camped out in front of her door.
“I don’t think it’s a paragraph if you say it.” Ray’s eyes were closed as he massaged his temples with the fingers of both hands.
“What?”
He looked at her across the table. “It’s not a paragraph if you say it. You write it down, then you got a paragraph. If you say it, several sentences I mean, you got a…”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what you’ve got, but I know it’s not a paragraph.”
“You an English teacher now?”
He shook his head. “I read a lot in prison, does that count?”
“No.”
“I was just trying to make a point.”
She laid both hands on the table and leaned toward him, speaking slowly so he wouldn’t misunderstand. “You have no fucking point to make because you’re a fucking asshole for fucking scaring me like that.”
He stared at her.
Jenny held up three fingers. “Now that’s three times in one sentence, so you can quit worrying about whether or not it’s a paragraph.”
The seconds ticked by on the clock mounted beside the kitchen door, Ray just looking at her, no expression at all. Then all of a sudden his banged-up face broke into a grin.
She couldn’t help smiling back at him.
He laughed, a deep belly laugh. Then winced in pain as he held his hands against his ribs.
She looked at the dried blood matted into his hair. “What happened to you?”
“Your boyfriend again.”
She glared at him and stabbed her finger toward the door. “If you’re going talk to me like that, get out of my apartment.”
Shane gave her a crooked smile. “ Your apartment. I remember when it used to be our apartment.”
She dropped her hand but kept her eyes locked on his. “Now it’s just my apartment. It was your choice, Ray.”
He nodded once, an almost imperceptible movement, but it was there.
Jenny’s anger started to slip. There was something in his eyes she hadn’t expected to see-defeat. Like he had been beaten, not just physically, but emotionally. Ray had never looked that way before, not even when he was on his way to prison. Maybe everything that had happened to him had finally taken its toll, had finally worn him down. They had both fallen so far from where they had been that there was probably no going back.
She watched as he probed at his torn scalp with his fingertips. “I’ve got nowhere to go, Jen,” he said.
“Tell me what happened.” She pointed a finger at him. “But I’m warning you, you say something like that again, I don’t care if you’ve got to sleep in the street, I’m kicking you out.”
Even though she realized it was a mistake, that it would stir up old feelings, Jenny fished under the kitchen sink for a first-aid kit while Ray told her what had happened at his apartment.
She spread the kit out on the table. When she touched the cut over his eye, he winced. “What did he want?” Jenny asked.
“To kill me.”
“Why?”
“He thinks I somehow stole that money.”
“What money?”
“From the robbery.”
“Why would he think that?” She wiped a cotton ball soaked with rubbing alcohol over his split eyebrow.
Ray’s head jerked back. “Ouch!”
“Quit your whining. You want this cleaned or not?” He nodded and she kept wiping. “Why does he think it was you?”
“I guess he figures there had to be somebody on the inside.”
“Was there?”
He nodded.
There was no way to bandage his scalp without shaving it, so Jenny just cleaned the cut as best she could with a Q-tip. The split over his eye had started bleeding again, so she made him press a towel against it until it stopped, then covered it with a gauze bandage.
“This one needs stitches,” she said, pressing the last piece of tape into place along the edge of the bandage.
“I can’t go to a hospital. Too many questions.”
Jenny set her gauze and tape down on the table. “Suit yourself, but if you don’t get it sewn up, you’re going to have a hell of a scar.”
“You afraid it’s going to ruin my good looks?”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
He whistled. “You picked up some rough language working at that place.”
She retook her seat across the table from him and looked into his eyes. “Did you do it, Ray?”
He looked surprised. “How the hell can you ask me that?”
Not letting go of his eyes, she asked again, more demanding this time, “Did you do it?”
Ray sighed, but he kept his eyes on hers. “No, I didn’t.”
Living with him had taught her how to tell when he was lying, and she knew he was telling her the truth. “Then who was it?”
He shrugged. “Hector was probably involved, but he wasn’t smart enough to pull it off by himself.”
“Tony?”
He looked away. “I don’t know.”
“You’re holding something back, Ray. What is it?”
“Just some things I heard…”
“About what?”
“About Vinnie.”
Not at all what she was expecting. “What about him?”
“He might have had a motive.”
“His son was murdered.”
Ray rested his elbows on the table. “Somebody got carried away.”
“Carried away?” she said. “They blew off his head.”
“And whoever did it has got to make damn sure they cover it up.”
“You really think it was Vinnie?”
A shrug. “It’s possible.”
“Why?” she said. “What’s the motive you’re talking about?”
“Same reason people do everything.” He rubbed his thumb and index finger together. “Money.”
She shook her head, thinking he was way off about this. “You’re projecting. Not everyone thinks like you.”
“What do you mean?”
Jenny took a deep breath. “Your problem is you’re greedy.”
He eyed her like she was crazy. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m trying to tell you the reason Vinnie might have robbed his own place, and you want to turn it around and tell me I’m greedy?”
&nbs
p; “I’ve known you a long time.”
“So?”
Jenny could tell he was getting pissed, but that was too bad. This was something he needed to hear. “Why did you go to prison, Ray?”
“Because somebody ratted on us.”
She shook her head. That was the answer she expected. “No, Ray, I’m asking you why you went to prison.”
“The feds tried to make a deal with me. I could have gotten off with probation, but I told them no, that I don’t snitch on my partners.”
Was he just being hardheaded or did he really not get it? Knowing Ray the way she did, Jenny believed it was the first option. He was hardheaded. As long as she had known Ray, she could never remember him admitting he had made a mistake. He bulled his way through everything, always convinced he was right.
“Listen to me, goddamn it!” she almost shouted. “I’m talking about why you went to prison, what you did that sent you there.”
He stared at her, his face set so hard it looked like stone, but that very look is what gave him away. Because in that look she saw that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He just refused to admit it, just like always.
Jenny rubbed her fingertips together just like he had. “Greed is why you went to prison, Ray. Not because somebody ratted on you, not because you sacrificed yourself for your partners, but because you wanted money. You saw morons like Tony living like kings. You had a cop’s salary but wanted to be one of the kings, and for a while you were, but then you got caught.”
Ray’s face turned red. “You think you got me figured out? You think you know what makes me tick? You think every problem can be fixed with some pop-psychology bullshit from an episode of Oprah?”
Some wounds never heal. Jenny felt her throat tighten, felt the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “Maybe some things can’t ever be fixed, Ray, but I know one thing.”
“What’s that?” His voice was ice-cold.
“People can change.”
He stared at her, his bright blue eyes boring into her for so long she felt like looking away, but she didn’t. He wasn’t playing stare-down, he was thinking, probably about what she had said. She hoped he had really listened to what she had said. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick. “You think that’s true, about people changing?”
His hands were spread out on the table, palms turned down. Gently, she laid a hand on top of one of his. “Yeah, I-”
Someone pounded on the door.
Jenny spun around in her chair. She glanced at her watch, 5:30 AM . Who the hell could be at the door at this time of morning? Gordo. It had to be. As she looked back at Ray she put a finger to her lips.
He nodded.
Then she got up and stepped to the door. She looked through the peephole but couldn’t see anything. There was no light coming through. Whoever was outside probably had his finger on it. “Who is it?” she shouted.
From the other side a man said, “It’s me. Open the fucking door.”
Tony Zello.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tony Zello was at Jenny’s door.
She glanced at Ray. He was on his feet. He had recognized Tony’s voice.
She turned back to the door. “I said, who is it?”
The voice was angry. “You know who this is, now open the fucking door.”
“Let me get something on. I’ll be right back.”
More pounding. “Open the door, Jenny.”
She crossed the room, grabbed Ray’s arm, then dragged him down the short hallway into the bedroom. “You stay in here. I’ll get rid of him.”
“How?”
She pulled a robe from a hook on the back of the closet door. “Stay here and for God’s sake be quiet.”
Tony hammered again. Jenny started for the door. In the hallway she stopped suddenly. Still wearing black panty hose and matching pumps.
This is dangerous. I’ve got to keep my head.
From the bedroom door Ray watched as she kicked away her shoes and peeled off the panty hose. Jenny pressed a finger to her lips, then waved him back into the bedroom.
The door shook under Tony’s fist.
As Jenny passed by the end table next to the sofa, she snatched the cordless phone from its base. Standing at the door, she said, “What do you want, Tony?”
“I want to come in.”
As silently as she could, Jenny latched the night chain, then said, “Why?”
Tony shouted through the door. “I need to talk to you.”
Five thirty in the morning. With most everyone in the building still in bed, her neighbors had to hear him. She ran her hand through her hair, mussing it to look like she had been asleep. A final glance back down the hall. Ray was just closing the bedroom door. Jenny unlocked the dead bolt, then opened the door.
Tony tried to push his way in but was held back by the night chain. He pressed his face through the crack. “Take off the chain.”
He wasn’t alone. Joey, one of Vinnie’s muscle-bound idiots, loomed behind him.
“What do you want, Tony?”
“I want to come in.”
“I’m not opening the door. You got something to say, say it.” Tony snaked a hand through the crack and tried to reach the chain.
Jenny slammed the door on his fingers.
“Owww.”Tony shouldered the door open to the limit of the chain. “Stop that, you bitch.”
“I’m going back to bed. If you’ve got something to say, you better say it fast.”
His eyes narrowed, but he kept his voice calm. “Have you seen Shane?”
Jenny stared at him for a second, trying for a look of disbelief, a look that said she was shocked he would ask such a stupid question. “You woke me up to ask me if I’ve seen Ray?”
“Answer the question.”
“No, I haven’t seen him.”
Tony peered past her shoulder. “You sure?”
Jenny tapped the heel of her palm against her forehead. “You’re right, Tony. I forgot. Ray’s in the bedroom. We’ve been screwing since I got home.”
“Don’t get smart with me. I’ll knock your teeth down your throat.”
She pressed a hand against the door frame next to the chain. “That’s a nice thought, Tony, but I think I’ll pass.”
He slipped a finger through the door and traced the tip along the back of her hand. “I never heard you complain before.”
“Fuck you, Tony,” Jenny said, her voice toneless and tired.
“Open the door.” Tony’s voice was soft. “I still need to talk to you.”
She shook her head.
Tony glanced over his shoulder at Joey, then back at Jenny. The edge came back into his voice. “Open it, or I’ll break it down.”
“You mean you’ll have your boyfriend break it down. You’re too much of a pussy to do it yourself.”
She jumped back as Tony shoved his arm through the crack and tried to grab her.
“I’ll wring your fucking neck, you cunt.”
Standing back, just out of his reach, Jenny held the cordless phone up in front of him. “You don’t leave right now, I’m calling the cops.”
“You better open this fucking door.”
She pressed the TALK button and a dial tone buzzed from the speaker. Jenny pressed the 9, then the 1. With her finger still poised over the 1, she said, “You going to leave me alone, or do you want me to press it?”
Tony glared at her, but he pulled his hand back.
She said, “On a nine-one-one call, even if I hang up, they dispatch a car.”
In frustration, Tony smacked his fist against the door, then once more pressed his face through the crack. He jabbed a finger at her. “I’ll deal with you later.” Then he was gone, stalking down the hall with Joey trotting along after him.
Jenny closed the door. As she turned the thumb latch on the dead bolt, Ray stepped into the den. “That was good thinking, that thing with the phone.”
She walked toward him and stood close. “Is your c
ar outside?” she asked, worried Tony had seen it.
“I took the bus.”
The thought of Ray Shane, tough-guy, ex-Vice detective, riding a city bus made her laugh. Picturing him getting on, fishing through his pocket for the exact fare-they didn’t give change-then stuffing himself into a tiny seat, waiting for his stop. She laughed harder, laughed until her belly hurt and tears came to her eyes.
He watched her for a while. Then said, “What’s so funny?” Still laughing, holding her stomach, she said, “You on the bus.”
He grinned. “I’ve lived here all my life, and it was the first time I’ve ever been on one.”
“Where is your car?”
“At my place,” he said. “I had to leave in a hurry.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
He shook his head. “And tell them what, the mob is trying to kill me?”
Jenny nodded. “Why not?”
“I’m just another ex-con. The cops aren’t going to do anything to help me.”
“So what did you do?”
“Caught the bus and rode around.”
“Soaking wet?”
“To the driver, I was just another nut with nowhere to go.” Ray wrung his shirttail. Water dripped on the floor.
Jenny hadn’t noticed before but Ray’s clothes were wet.
“When the bus stopped on Canal Street, I got off and walked here.”
“And brought Tony with you.”
He shrugged.
After a long look at him she made a decision. “Get your clothes off and get in the shower.”
He didn’t say anything, but his eyes told her he was grateful.
“Believe it or not,” she said, “I’ve still got some of your clothes.”
“Did you believe her?” Joey asked.
Tony looked over at him. “She knows better than to lie to me. I’ve kicked her ass before, and the little bitch knows I’ll do it again.”
Joey had both hands on the wheel as he steered the big Lincoln down Canal Street. “Where we going?”
“Fuck if I know,” Tony said, more to himself than to Joey.
And that was the problem. He didn’t have any idea. He knew he had to find Shane. But how? Where was he? Tony didn’t know where else to look.
Joey said, “How about his family or maybe his friends? That’s probably where he’d go if he got in a jam.”
House of the Rising Sun Page 16
