by Carey Lewis
“Most generators have both a hundred-twenty and a two-forty volts. What you got to worry about is what kind of gauge wires old man Dwight used down here. He was hardcore it looks like, so I’d say that should be alright but you’re going to want to check, make sure you don’t catch the place on fire,” Huey said. He saw Deacon holding an end table, hanging around, listening to the conversation.
“Okay,” Cesar said, forcing a smile as he turned. “Me and Huey will go out and start getting the shit to bring down here and get us going.”
“It does not sound like you have put much thought into this.”
“I have Pablo, just some things I didn’t think of yet.” Cesar saw Hector bringing a chair from the kitchen area and paused when he said that, then went up the stairs.
“I think I will go with you to make sure there is nothing else that you are forgetting about.”
“Me and Huey can handle it,” Cesar said but it was too late. Pablo was heading to the stairs.
“Actually Pablo,” Deacon said, putting his hand on his shoulder. “If it’s not too much trouble I wouldn’t mind getting a lift back. The wife, you know.”
Pablo smiled, said, “Ah, Mrs. Gray. She does not trust her movie star husband out too long eh?”
“Told her you drove me by the beach last night and now she wants to go.”
“Then we will all go. Make a trip out of it,” Pablo said, facing Cesar again. He turned back to Deacon. “You will tell her how I do as Ponch eh? Get me on the show,” he said then patted Deacon on his side and went up the stairs.
“Thought your wife was in Philly shooting the show,” Cesar said.
“Can’t shoot without me. Decided she’d come in too.”
“Likes it here huh?”
“Said it feels like she never left,” Deacon said, smiling, then went up the stairs.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BROOKE COULDN’T BE SURE DEACON was in the Town Car when it pulled out, but she couldn’t imagine him not being one of the four people inside. So she took a chance and followed it. She knew she was right when it pulled into the goddamn Marriott again. She waited until she was sure the Town Car was gone then got him from the lobby of the hotel, Deacon telling her it seemed nice there, then drove to the Holiday Inn.
“They’re turning the bunker into a grow-op,” he told her, sitting on the end of the bed. She came over from the mini-bar and put a drink in his hand. “Get this, Huey? He’s an electrician.”
“I wouldn’t put that guy in charge of sitting the right way on a toilet seat. You want to go outside?” Without waiting for an answer, Brooke was out on the balcony, lighting a smoke, sitting in the same chair as last night. Deacon came out and stood against the rail, looking out at the beach below.
“I asked him about that. Huey said he got electrocuted once and decided on a different career path. Cesar jumped in saying it was some freak accident that wasn’t his fault, saying it to Pablo more than me.”
“Trying to reassure Pablo he’s got everything under control.”
“Thing is, in the car, Cesar tells Pablo he didn’t have to come. Pablo jokes about how he’s the boss and shouldn’t be doing manual labor. He says it’ll give him a chance for Cesar to show him why he’s really there.”
“That’s interesting. So Pablo’s doing a service for Cesar.”
“Makes your money theory stand out a bit more. Cesar’s got to pay him with money he doesn’t have.”
“So what’s he doing here all the way from Florida if not to oversee his business?” Brooke asked, more to herself. “I don’t think he’s here just for dope or he’d be gone already. If it was just money they would’ve had that talk.” She held the cigarette between her fingers, tapping it against her lips. “Think it has something to do with those skinheads?”
“You know that always drove me nuts? When you do that?”
Brooke looked over at him, then dropped her hand to her lap. “There’s a Marshal who called Marty.”
“A US Marshal?”
“What she said. Asking about her renting cars.” She watched the fear overtake him, like he wanted to jump off the balcony and run along the beach to get away.
“You don’t think?”
“They do fugitives mostly. Some asset forfeiture if something’s been used in a crime. If it was about the skinheads it would be a detective. I don’t think Marshals get involved in that.”
“Jesus Brooke,” he said, moving around like he was looking for a place to hide. She wanted to tell him they weren’t at the front door to take him in. Then a thought hit her.
“Maybe we should call him.”
“Are you fucking crazy?”
She put the cigarette to her mouth but it was out. She lit it again, took a haul, then let out the smoke. “They don’t know anything that happened. Cesar’s not going to tell anyone until he at least tries to make a run at you for the money. You don’t even know if he has anything on you yet.”
“I don’t think us calling the Marshals is the best idea you’ve ever had. What if he doesn’t have a video but now I’m putting myself there?”
“I’m just throwing it out as an option. What I’m thinking is they do asset forfeiture. Like they’ll take a house if it’s been used in a crime.”
Deacon turned to her then. “Like if someone’s business was tied to using a house as a grow-op.”
She smiled at him. “Not a bad option to have.”
JEFF WAS SITTING BEHIND THE counter, his glasses sliding down his sweaty nose, when they walked in. He looked up and stood right away, the phone dragging across the desk still attached to his headset. He quickly took the headset off and threw it down, then stood back at attention.
“You guys returning the Buick?”
“Was wondering if we could keep it awhile longer,” Brooke said, flashing her smile as she walked over to the counter. Deacon was a few steps back, looking at the two other empty desks, the office back there in the corner with venetian blinds. It was a worn out looking place. The gray carpet under their feet was frayed, the walls in need of a good cleaning - maybe off white at one time.
“Was Reggie supposed to be in today,” Jeff said, like he read his mind. Deacon was wondering why he was the only one in the place. “But he’s off picking up his cousin. Supposed to start training today.”
“You have to train someone to drive a car?” Deacon asked.
“They interact with the customers. We train them how to act, what to say, how to handle problems,” Jeff said, defending his business to the question.
“Like when a couple keeps a car longer than they say they will. You train them to get Marshals to call them?”
“I rented it from Avis and they’re the ones calling me wanting it returned. You guys give me nothing but trouble the moment you got here. That short one? Didn’t want to have an argument with her for what I know is right.”
Brooke put her elbows on the counter and leaned on them. “We might need it a little longer.”
“Then you go to Avis with it, get your own deal with them. I’m paying for the thing long as you don’t return it.”
“Can we return it and rent something from you? For the hassle we put you through?” Deacon asked.
“Only thing I got is the Lincoln SUV. Huey’s still got the Town Car. Tell him he’s fired when you see him.”
Deacon walked over to the counter and Jeff sat down and wheeled the chair away from it a couple feet. “Why don’t you tell him?”
“I left him a message. I told him he’s fired and get the Town Car back before I call the cops on him. I’m going to do it too. Tomorrow if I come in and don’t see that car in the lot.”
“I’m confused,” Deacon said. “You fired him and now you got a Marshal tracking down the car?”
“I’m confused too. You come all the way here to tell me you want to keep renting the Buick? You think being celebrities going to do something to me?”
“We came to ask about the Marshal,” Brooke said. “
The short one you don’t like? She’s on our ass about getting called by a Marshal, wondering what we’re doing. We’re just trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“He called asking about Huey. I told him he drove you guys around, you’d know better about Huey than I would. You chose him after all.” Deacon looked at him then. This guy was trying to fit in all his life, jealous they didn’t get into his car at the airport.
“Do you have his number?”
Jeff got up from the chair, telling them the card was in his office and to stay there. He walked to the back and went inside, closing the door behind him.
“What do you think?” Brooke asked.
“I think I don’t want him calling the cops and getting them involved. Huey was there.”
“You want to call Huey and tell him to bring the car back?”
“I want you to be better at flirting and buy us more time.”
“You’re supposed to be the charming one.”
Jeff came out of the office and walked toward them. He handed over the card that said US Marshal Carter Grant on it before he hiked up his pants. Brooke looked at the card and put on her best smile. “We’re really sorry we got in the wrong car,” she said. “It wasn’t anything personal. It was Marty, she’s the one that told us the Town Car.”
Jeff didn’t say anything.
“You know how she is Jeff. It’s not like we had a choice. We’d like to make it up to you.”
Jeff crossed his arms, waiting. Said, “How’s that?”
“We’ll try to get the car back from Huey for you. Right after we go to Avis and get the Buick off your hands,” she said, smiling again, tilting her head slightly. “That way you don’t have to get the cops involved, go through all that hassle.”
Deacon wasn’t expecting it, the sting that came from watching her flirt. Realizing that she’d be doing it again to someone that wasn’t him in the future. She’d be sitting in a bar, or just getting groceries and some unknown man would come up to her and start chatting her up. If she was interested, she’d be doing the same thing to him, being cute, showing she was interested but wanting him to put some work in.
“It’s a start,” Jeff said, his cheeks getting red.
“You know why a Marshal is asking about Huey?” Deacon asked.
“Friend of his went missing after getting out on bail and he’s looking for him. Thought maybe Huey might know where he is.”
Deacon was nodding, thinking.
“Thanks Jeff. We’ll take that Buick off your hands,” she said, smiling again, and turned to go out the door.
“That’s all you’re doing to make it up to me huh?”
She turned and smiled, said, “We’ll talk when we come back with the Town Car,” and then she walked out the door.
Deacon followed her across the empty lot to the Buick. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Didn’t think Marshals handled bail jumpers,” she said. “Tends to be a bondsman’s job.”
THE OLD CUBAN GAVE HIM nothing but problems since he got here, and he’d only been here a day. Cesar could see it, Pablo wanting to take over his operation. He saw what Cesar set up, what he planned, and he could see the dusty wheels in the old man’s head spinning.
And now he had the stereo turned to some Salsa type shit Cesar never cared for. Just because his heritage was Mexican didn’t mean he was. He was an American. An American living in the free market system.
Huey was in the backseat, looking up equipment on his phone, looking at what they would need. Pablo was in the passenger seat, shaking his head when Huey said, “We’re looking at High Pressure Sodium lights. They seem like the best bet for what we’re doing. But from there we’re going to need ballasts like I said and shields. Some sort of exhaust system too by the looks of it because it gets pretty hot.”
“This was all planned you said?” Pablo asked. Cesar could’ve sworn he snickered.
So Cesar took the Town Car to the Wal-Mart Superstore and they talked to the gardening section expert, told the skinny teenager with acne they were setting up a greenhouse and told Huey to tell the kid what they needed.
“What do you plan on growing?” the teenager asked.
“Carrots,” Cesar said.
“Carrots?”
“Some other shit grows out of the ground too. What’s that thing called? Cabbage?”
“Carrots and cabbage?”
Cesar saw the look of embarrassment on Pablo’s face and it made him angry. He kept telling himself, No one asked you to come down here. His anger was growing to downright pissed off. The only thing he could think about was pulling the Colt .45 ACP out of his waistline and shooting that embarrassed look off his smug face.
But then Huey asked the kid if he liked to smoke weed. That brought the four of them around the back of the garden center where they smoked a joint full of grass Cesar grew. After that, the kid helped them with everything they needed. The store didn’t have everything they wanted, enough to get them started sure, but not the quantity, so the kid ordered more. That’s when Pablo became useful, not wanting anyone’s name on the order, he peeled bills off his thick roll of cash and paid for it. “Should arrive in a week,” the kid told them.
Cesar didn’t think Pablo had a problem paying for it because he’d be taking over as soon as they got up and running. Driving in the Town Car again, asking Cesar what he’d do if Pablo wasn’t there. It pained Cesar to pretend he was thankful for the arrival of his savior.
“We can get what we have set up,” Huey said, looking over instructions he found online, “and it gives us time to set up the exhausts. I’m sure old man Dwight has a good base for us to work on.” Huey was still looking at his phone, still hung up on making the grow-op work, not even noticing where they were going.
“You sure you want to go there?” Cesar asked.
“Yes. I want to know what you are paying me for.”
“Didn’t think you’d do it like this.”
“We can talk. We let them know how the situation has changed.”
“They’re not the type to talk.”
“Yes. You know everything and have everything worked out,” Pablo said. At that point, Cesar thought it might be a good idea. He knew exactly what he was going to do.
He slowed down as they went by the dirt road that led up to the house, large trees on either side of it. He looked to the house that was falling apart, looking for anything that changed. Pablo looked too but didn’t know what the hell he was looking at.
Cesar brought the car down a ways before turning around and coming back. He stopped outside the drive, looking at the house down there, and waited.
When he was happy there was nothing moving and no one else around, he brought the car down the dirt road up to the house that was white but had turned to a shade of beige. The house nestled in the pocket of trees. They could hear the thrash metal still playing from inside.
He turned the car off and got out, looking around. He was surprised there weren’t any cops here, no one at all actually, but it made sense - if there’s no one to find them, there’s no one to report it. If a tree falls in the woods…
“Cesar?” Huey called from the backseat, finally looking away from his phone. Cesar saw the look of fear in his eyes. His hands were starting to shake.
“Pablo wants to know why he’s here,” he told him. Cesar couldn’t help but smile. He saw Pablo look from Huey to Cesar. He saw the understanding cross Pablo’s face that the people inside were bad, people to be feared. Pablo nodded. Then they went to the door.
Cesar walked through the front door, careful not to use his fingers, and stood in the hallway, backed up to let Pablo pass to the living room. He walked in, looking at the bodies. The one up on the stacked couch, the blood dripping off the cushion onto the floor. The one on the floor that fell off the lower couch, a hole in his hand and head. Then Motley, looked like he was sleeping with his body on the floor and what used to be his head on the couch.
H
e looked back to Cesar, over his shoulder to see the other body laying in the kitchen with blood stains behind him on the stove and microwave. Then to Cesar who gestured with his head for Pablo to go into the living room.
Pablo walked in slowly, went over to the stereo and turned the knob. The screeching music went down to a hum. When he looked back to Cesar he saw the Colt .45 ACP in his hand.
“You called me here to clean your mess?” Pablo asked, still not getting it.
Cesar raised the gun, said, “Adios muchachos,” and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I HAVE A PLAN.”
“That’s nice,” Huey said. He was collapsed against the wall outside the living room, staring off at nothing in particular. He looked like a back-catcher the way he was crouched.
“I need you okay Huey. You okay?”
“What other choice I got?”
Cesar looked down at him. He seemed to be looking at Pablo’s feet. It was like his brain shut down from too much information.
“I need you to go back to my place and get the guns.” Cesar kicked his leg. “Huey?”
He looked up.
“I need you to get those guns, the ones we used before.”
“The ones we put in the tree,” Huey said.
“Yeah, the ones we put in the tree. I need you to go get them.”
Huey was staring at Cesar now, his brain still blocked.
“We need those guns so we can put them in their hands.” He waved his arm toward the living room, realized he was still holding the Colt. “Like the movies. It’ll look like Pablo came here to make a deal and it went bad.”
Huey was nodding now. “It went bad.”
Cesar wasn’t sure if Huey was repeating what he just said, understanding it, or if he was referring to the situation. Cesar put the Colt back in his pants and crouched so he was eye-level with him. “I need you cool Huey.”
Staring at him with those eyes wide and distant, looking through Cesar.
