When the Man Comes Around

by Bradley Wright

  “I can help you find who did this to you. That should be something we both can agree would interest you, can’t we, Mr. Raines?”

  “If you know something about what happened to my—about what happened, tell me now, De Luca.”

  “Or what, Lawson? Or . . . what?”

  Lawson took a breath. He knew a situation like this would arise once he started digging, he just didn’t think it would be this soon. The time for talk was over. De Luca had pulled the trump card.

  Lawson shifted his weight as he shifted his demeanor. A deep breath calmed him.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  De Luca puffed his cigar once more, then took a sip of wine. His smile was now one of pride.

  “Welcome to the De Luca Corporation, Lawson Raines.”

  9

  Lawson walked back into his hotel suite at Caesar’s Palace. He hadn’t planned on coming back to the room after the meeting with De Luca. He knew that indulging in De Luca’s hospitality would only obligate him to Nero. But now, none of that really mattered. On the walk back to Caesar’s, it once again occurred to him that working with De Luca could actually be a good thing. It gave him a way to move freely amongst the people who really knew what was going on in Las Vegas: the criminals.

  Lawson made it back to his suite. As he removed his blazer and began to unbutton his shirt, from somewhere in the room he could hear the muffled sound of a cell phone ringing. He walked toward the bedroom, and the sound grew louder. Inside the closet, he could tell the ringing was coming from somewhere near the safe. Cassie must have had the FBI phone planted there while he was at dinner. The phone had stopped ringing, but a single chirp followed as he picked it up from the top of the safe.

  A text message from Cassie. Just like the phone that Johnny left him, it wasn’t the first time he had seen an iPhone, they had just been released before he went to prison. However, these were his first couple of times working one, and it still felt like a device from another planet. After a few seconds of fumbling with the new-to-him technology, he finally managed to click on the messages app.

  Cassie: You passed the test. Glad you didn’t answer. But just so you know, from now on you can. We swept the room, there were no cameras. Only two bugs. You can speak freely. All those bugs will ever hear is music and random television shows. See that virtual keyboard below this message? That’s where you type back to me. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of 2018 soon.

  Though many years had passed, Cassie still felt like his sister. Another text came in.

  Cassie: Hello?

  She was still as impatient as ever too. Then another text.

  Cassie: Forget it. I’m sure you could use a drink. Come buy me one. I’ll be across the street at O’Sheas. There’s a band.

  The last thing Lawson felt like doing was being around another crowd. But if he wanted to get to the bottom of what happened out on that boat ten years ago, he had to get started. And Cassie was the only source of information he had at the moment.

  Cassie: Just get over here. I’ll show you how to use the phone when you get here.

  Lawson put the phone in his pocket, grabbed his blazer, and headed for the door.

  Lawson walked into O’Sheas and immediately felt every last one of the ten years older that he was since the last time he’d been to a bar. The music was louder, the people were younger, and instead of wanting a drink, he wanted a pistol. He scanned the bar from the doorway. It was an Irish bar inside the LINQ Hotel. Last time he was on the Strip, the hotel was called Imperial Palace. And the entire walkway full of shops and restaurants he walked through to get there, now known as the LINQ Promenade, didn’t even exist. The bar was full of beer pong tables on the left, gaming tables in the middle, a band at the back, and a bar down the right wall.

  Four seats down on the bar sat a blonde, and it took a double take to realize it was Cassie. She was in a sequined blue dress, the back plunged to reveal her muscular back. She looked a lot different than at the motel earlier. Different than she had ever looked. But there is a certain mind melding that good partners have, and he couldn’t believe that theirs was still going strong. He knew she was in character, and the fact that there was an empty seat beside her was no coincidence at all. Not in that crowded place.

  Lawson weaved his way through the crowd of twentysomethings and sidled up to Cassie. She looked up, placed a hand on his arm, and gave it a squeeze.

  “Have a seat, handsome. Buy me a drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  Lawson wanted to make her work for it. He nodded to the bartender.

  “Buffalo Trace. Neat.”

  Cassie didn’t skip a beat. She leaned in, draping herself on him, practically forcing him to take a seat.

  “You wouldn’t leave a lady thirsty, would you?”

  Lawson glanced at her. He barely recognized her behind the pound of hooker makeup she had piled on for the occasion. He had to fight the urge to recoil from her touch. He still wasn’t used to someone being so close.

  “Seriously? Teal eye shadow?”

  He felt her pinch down hard on his leg.

  “Just play along already, would you?”

  Lawson gestured to the bartender to get her another of what she was drinking. It was gin, he could smell it on her breath.

  “What happened to the whiskey-drinking Tennessee girl I used to know?”

  Cassie traced the outline of the back of his collar with her finger. “Escorts don’t drink whiskey.”

  “Get to it already. I’m already tired of shouting over this obnoxious band. You couldn’t invite me to a lounge? ‘Escorts’ work there too, you know. You really think someone is watching that closely?”

  Cassie leaned in. “Second roulette table, closest to the back.”

  Lawson didn’t turn around. Instead, he used the mirror above the bar to find who she was alluding to. Johnny De Luca. Not only was the kid his concierge, but Nero had clearly designated him to be his shadow as well. He was wearing a black ball cap pulled down low to help him stay hidden. He forgot he was wearing a flashy thirty-thousand-dollar Rolex. It was the first thing Lawson noticed.

  “He walked in pretty much right behind you. I see your detective skills haven’t yet found their way back to you.”

  Lawson didn’t acknowledge the jab.

  “Anyway, let’s make this quick,” Cassie said. “What did De Luca have to say at STK earlier?”

  Lawson took a slow sip of his bourbon. It was delicious. Every sense seemed heightened after being locked in that cage. Especially his taste buds. He didn’t know how he wanted to answer Cassie’s question. Because he didn’t know if he wanted her involved. The things he was going to have to do to get to the bottom of what happened to his wife most likely weren’t going to be sanctioned by the federal government.

  “Who set me up?” he answered with a question.

  Cassie gave him that old Cassie look. The one letting him know she wasn’t playing.

  “Lawson, I can’t help you if you don’t help me. I told you, if I knew and could prove who was responsible, they would be dead or in jail.”

  Lawson took another drink and watched in the mirror as Johnny placed another bet behind him.

  “Lawson, I’m not playing around here. You need to tell me what De Luca is up to.”

  That was all he needed to hear. He had already had enough of people trying to tell him what to do. He was supposed to be a free man, but the way people were treating him, it was like he belonged to them. He’d had enough of feeling like a prisoner. Lawson reached into his pocket, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and left it for the bartender. He stood up, kissed Cassie on the cheek, and walked toward the restroom. He knew she couldn’t break character with Johnny watching, so if he just left, she couldn’t try to stop him. He felt her tug at his blazer, but he was already gone.

  10

  Lawson felt Johnny’s eyes on him as he walked toward the back of the bar in the direction of the restrooms. He also felt h
imself missing the control he had in prison. And he wanted that feeling back. He walked past the restroom doors, looped around to the other side of the bar, and walked right up behind the unsuspecting Johnny De Luca.

  “Pick up your chips.”

  Johnny turned quickly, his face like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “L-Lawson. Hey man! Weird seeing you—”

  “Don’t.” Lawson cut him off. “Pick up your chips, or lose them.”

  Johnny started to protest. Lawson got a grip on his shirt collar with his left hand and took hold of his belt with his right. As he lifted him off his chair, Lawson noticed a look of astonishment on Cassie’s face across the bar. He practically carried Johnny out the front of the casino and onto the crowded promenade just outside. He tossed him forward, then got right in his face.

  “This ends right here, right now.”

  “Lawson, I swear, it’s a coincidence! I gamble here all the time!”

  Lawson drew back his right arm, swung it forward, and slammed Johnny in the stomach. Johnny dropped to the ground, gasping for air. The crowd of people walking around them gasped and widened their walk to avoid the two of them.

  Lawson said, “I thought we were going to be friends, me and you. Now you’re just going to lie to me? I’ve got enough to worry about right now. I don’t need this.”

  Even though Lawson was using force, he was also using the angle of feeling betrayed. He got the sense Johnny was the type that didn’t like disappointing people. He used this angle a lot in prison. A lot of the men locked up with him were subservient. Used to taking orders and being punished when they didn’t do what they were told. It had become ingrained in them to want not to disappoint, even when they were being physically abused. It actually helped make them loyal to him. In his time with the FBI, it also became clear that a lot of mob offspring were sheltered and didn’t have a lot of their own friends, because their fathers didn’t trust anyone. Lawson was hoping what he saw in Johnny was the same sort of thing. The tactic didn’t come without risk, however, because pummeling the son of a powerful mob boss wasn’t the sort of thing people would usually call “productive”.

  Lawson stalked forward, lifted Johnny up by the collar, and shook him.

  “Are we not going to be friends?”

  “Wait. Wait!”

  Lawson let Johnny go.

  “You’re crazy, Lawson! You know who my dad is. He’ll kill you if—”

  Lawson grabbed his shirt with both hands and lifted him off his feet. This was it. If after Lawson gave it one last try Johnny was still spouting about his daddy, Lawson was in trouble.

  “Friends trust each other, Johnny. Real friends do anyway.”

  Johnny searched Lawson’s eyes. After a moment of contemplation, his expression finally changed.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just following orders.”

  Lawson let Johnny down. Either Johnny was smart and playing along until he could tattle or Lawson had read him right. Unfortunately, only time would tell. This was the hard part about this dangerous game. You never knew if you could really trust them until they proved it. And no one can prove their loyalty without you letting them go and show you.

  “It’s fine. You just have to understand where I’ve been and what I’ve been through. I’m used to trusting no one. If I have to, that’s the way it will be out here.”

  “You can trust me. I won’t follow you again. But you have to work with me. My dad will be expecting updates.”

  “We can give him updates. Tonight Lawson went out for a drink and tried to get some ass. Sounds like what any newly free man would do, right?”

  Johnny smiled. “Right. It’s what I do most nights, and I’ve always been free.”

  Lawson knew that the poor kid had been more on lockdown than Lawson ever had, but it wasn’t worth the conversation. He was tired. He needed to get some rest. He had a long day ahead tomorrow of shaking down scumbags, and he planned on getting an early start.

  Lawson tried to speak Johnny’s language. “Let me know next time you’re going to be around. Just text me or something. Cool?”

  “Cool. And maybe we can work out together soon? I can’t put on muscle to save my life. Maybe you could show me some tricks?”

  Lawson nodded. “Talk to you soon, Johnny.”

  Lawson started back toward Caesar’s. Without food, he could feel the bourbon flame in his bloodstream. So far, he had been out almost an entire day and had only managed a couple of drinks, a new suit, and a tagalong Italian puppy. The meet-up with Cassie was fruitless, and it was time he quit trying to let information come to him. He recorded many conversations in prison in his notebook. Conversations that he himself had about Sokolov and many that he had overheard. Men discussing a lot of Sokolov’s dealings or talking about their favorite places to find a little trouble on the Strip. Lawson knew he could start there and work his way up the food chain. Starting with Sokolov would kill two birds with one stone for him. It would placate De Luca by working on taking care of his biggest rival, and it would also assure the FBI that he was doing what Cassie had told him he had to do to remain free: investigate the apparent spy situation involved with the Russian’s organization.

  The only problem with those two birds was that the stone Lawson was throwing did nothing for the real reason he wanted to run free in Vegas: to find Lauren’s killer. And while it was too late in the evening to investigate, he could at the very least open up his notebook and study his list. Not that he needed to see it. The names he had written on that page were burned into his memory. Every day for the last 3,650 days, he had been obsessing over those names. He didn’t know for sure if any, or all, of those names were guilty, but he sure as hell was ready to find out.

  11

  Lawson opened the door to his suite and made his way back to the closet. He opened the safe and breathed a sigh of relief when the notebook was still there. It was silly that he cared so much about it, but it was the only possession he had. In that moment he knew he could no longer stay in that hotel room. There were too many people who knew he was there, and more people than he cared to know with access. After being out in the ninety-five-degree Las Vegas night, Lawson needed a new shirt. When he went to remove his blazer, he noticed a crinkling sound that wasn’t there before. He opened his blazer and reached down into the inside pocket on the left side. He removed a piece of white notebook paper, unfolded it, and immediately recognized his old partner’s handwriting.

  Lawson, first off, I’m sorry for not being at the prison to pick you up. You know I would have been if it were possible. But we have a serious problem. I couldn’t speak freely earlier at the motel, I wasn’t sure who was listening. But apparently, I might just be a pawn in all of this. Since I left you at the motel earlier, a lot has been brought to my attention. I think I was lied to, by my own superior. Lawson, I’m not sure the FBI wants you to rejoin them, I think they might want you dead.

  Lawson’s stomach turned. He walked out of the closet, flipped on the bedside lamp, and took a seat on the edge of the bed, steeling himself before he continued reading Cassie’s words.

  When they brought me in on this, it was only to ensure your release. I think they tried to get to you while you were in prison, I’m just not sure. But I guess if they did, you took out the men they had make an attempt on your life. Anyway, from what I’m gathering, since they couldn’t get to you in there, they thought it would be easier while you were free. I say “they,” but it might just be one man.

  Lawson’s muscles clenched. He flashed to a couple of the run-ins he had in prison where the men were more skilled than he thought made sense. This could explain it. And from what he could remember, those same men were released not long after they came at him. It was all written in his notebook. This was the reason he had made such detailed notes. Every time something seemed a little off in prison, he wrote it down. Adding names to his ever growing list. His blood pressure shot through the roof, and he began to
grind his teeth as he continued reading.

  I couldn’t believe someone in the FBI might want you dead. There is a lot going on that I didn’t know about. I’m sorry. They kept me in the dark. Some powerful people must be working together on this. People I thought I could trust. They haven’t given me any information. But I heard chatter that Kevin Watson has been pulled in from the field. I don’t think anyone was supposed to know, but I’ve been having my tech guy, Troy, notify me when anyone fishy comes to Las Vegas. Lawson, I don’t know a lot about Watson, but the story told about him is that he takes care of “messes” like you for a living for the FBI.

  I’ll do my best to keep you as informed as I can, but if he is really coming here for you, you have to leave. Right now. I know a condition of your pardon doesn’t allow you to leave the state for another six months, but you have to leave the country. And I know all you want to do is find out what happened to Lauren and get back to Lexi, but that will have to wait until we can figure something else out. I’ve made a lot of friends in Vegas. One of my former informants is the best at paperwork. He is expecting you, tonight. He’ll be able to get you every document you need to change your identity and get out of here. Once you’re safe somewhere, you can find a way to contact me and we can try to figure out why the FBI, or someone in it, wants you erased.

  Lawson, I know you, and I know you don’t want to wait to find out who killed Lauren. But you’ve waited ten years, we can figure this out, so you can wait a little longer. Don’t be your usual stubborn self. This is not a game. From everything I’ve ever heard, Watson is deadly. So GET OUT OF HERE. I was able to leave some money and a burner phone for you at your room I got for you for the night at the Flamingo. There is a key for room 223 and an address for my informant, Jeremy, so you can get your new passport, hidden behind the ice machine on that floor.

  I’ll do my best to contact you again if I hear anything, but I hope when I try you’re already gone.