Chasing Clowns: A Novel (Girl Clown Hatchet Suspense Series Book 2)

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Chasing Clowns: A Novel (Girl Clown Hatchet Suspense Series Book 2) Page 20

by Mav Skye


  When everything went his way, Uncle Marty was the nicest guy in the world. He had taken AJ and his kid brother, Máximo, under his wing after their mother, Marty’s sister, had skipped town to meet up with some guy she’d met off the internet in Scotland.

  AJ had no idea if she were alive and learned how to play the accordion or if she were lying in a ditch somewhere along with her dreams. As far as AJ knew, his mother didn’t know what happened to Máximo, that he’d overdosed. She hadn’t bothered to show up for the funeral. This angered AJ every time he thought about it, which was almost every night. His nightmares were unrelenting.

  What right did a woman have to bring children into the world only to abandon them to the dogs when something better came along?

  AJ’s pulse quickened, and he plucked another beer from the fridge to calm his nerves. He held it against his bruised cheekbone.

  Screw his mother. His Uncle Marty was all he had. Sammy’s plan would fix a world of problems, including coming up with the money for the lost meth. AJ didn’t think his Uncle would touch Sammy; he was the golden child in Martinez’ eyes. Marty had distanced himself more and more from AJ. Sometimes, AJ wondered if his Uncle had blamed him for Máximo’s death. The thought turned his stomach, and he set the beer down. The truth was, deep down in his filthy black heart, AJ wondered that, too. Not out loud, but on nights when he’d wake in a mess of tears and snot, screaming for Máximo to wake up, he knew the truth.

  AJ had a feeling Marty had been grooming Sammy to take over the family business for years. AJ didn’t care about that end of it, he enjoyed the thrill of beating the law out of their game, and the women money could buy, but he had no desire for leadership.

  What did irk him was why Marty favored Sammy over him? Even if Marty blamed AJ for Máximo’s death, blood was thicker than water, wasn’t it? Sammy was dumb. Sure, robbing the bank was a step up, but what did Sammy possess that garnered his Uncle’s affection that AJ did not? He wished this didn’t bother him, pretended it didn’t, but at the end of the day, AJ felt alone—disheartened. If it weren’t for Joey, he’d have offed himself years ago.

  He picked up the beer and took a long swig, cringing when the alcohol touched the raw wound on his lower lip.

  Sammy stared at him, trying to read his thoughts. AJ realized he had asked a question. “Say again?”

  Sammy squinted his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

  “That you smell like vomit.” AJ felt another wave of uncomfortable tightening in his stomach. He didn’t like the predatory look on Sammy’s face.

  He said, “You look like vomit.”

  AJ pointed at him. “Not funny, bro. When’s the parade?”

  Sammy said, “That’s the thing. It’s this weekend.”

  “A few days from now?”

  Sammy said, “Uh huh.”

  “Shit.”

  “But if we can pull this off…” Sammy whistled.

  AJ agreed, then said, “We’d need more hands on this than just you and me, Sammy.”

  Sammy smiled. “Already have.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Gotta couple of Carnival Circus clowns scoping it out. Had them out there for weeks.”

  AJ raised his eyebrows. “Just how long have you been planning this?”

  “Long enough.”

  There was a hardness in Sammy’s eyes AJ had never seen before. AJ knew greed could change a person, from his experience with watching dealers with his Uncle, it was never for the best. He’d never seen the change this close, this personal before. “Christ, there better be a lotta money.” AJ finished off his beer and aimed for the open trash can.

  Sammy smiled. “Jill says two million.”

  He choked on the fluid, spitting it out.

  Sammy laughed and handed AJ a rag.

  AJ accepted it. “Holy shit.”

  Sammy said, “You know it.”

  “Hot damn, boy. You make like you’re dumb, but there’s a conniving little sumabitch in there.” AJ tapped on Sammy’s chest.

  Sammy pushed him away playfully, his eyes glazing over with a daydream. “So, starting tonight the guys are going to take shifts walking around town, just being distracting. They’ll scare a couple of kids. Chase a jogger. Jump a fence. Bat a mailbox.”

  AJ said, “No good. Cops will think something’s up.”

  “Exactly. It’ll distract them. They’ll get calls about killer clowns on the loose and chalk it up to Halloween. They’ll keep their men on Main Street, which means less security around the bank.”

  Sammy pulled out two more beers from the fridge, popped the bottle caps, and offered one to AJ. They clinked necks.

  AJ said, “You’re the man.”

  “Amen.”

  They both laughed and took a good long drink.

  Sammy said, “You still have those clown costumes, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Still part of the union.” AJ liked the idea of the clowns roaming at night. He had been out himself at night the last two weeks. This would make him less identifiable.

  Sammy said, “Speaking of which, I swear I’d seen you the other day.”

  “Me?” AJ said innocently.

  “In your clown suit, yeah. I can spot you a mile away with face paint like that psycho clown Gacy.”

  AJ shrugged.

  Sammy raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing out there?”

  AJ said, “I’ve been stalking Pocahontas.”

  “Pocahontas? You don’t mean Officer Jackson.”

  AJ laughed. “Uh huh. Got her freaked, too.”

  Sammy said, “That’s my parole officer, AJ. What the heck are you thinking? You can’t do that, man! She’s unhappy with me as it is.”

  “Chill!” AJ spread his arms. “There’s no way she could trace it back to you. Or me for that matter.”

  Sammy said, “Yeah, well, she knows I work at Carnival Circus.”

  “Did you see the look on her face when you told her? She obviously has no idea about the place. Don’t worry. You’re good.”

  “I wouldn’t underestimate her. ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce.’”

  “I can’t believe you’re quoting Shakespeare.”

  Sammy said, “Truth is, I kinda like her.”

  AJ pointed at him. “Fuck you.”

  “What? She’s nice! And kinda hot.”

  “You know what she did to Joey.”

  “Everybody gets their heart broken, AJ. What happened to Joey isn’t anything special! You know how I was when Amber broke it off with me.”

  AJ said, “You were cheating with her best friend.”

  “Yeah, but it still messed me up when she broke it off. You’re the one who gets all the girls, and still hasn’t fallen in love.”

  AJ folded his arms. It was true. He’d never felt about a woman the way Joey had felt about Chloe. He probably never would. Most guys never got that lucky, which is why his mission was important. He tried to explain the facts to Sammy. “This is different. For some guys, there’s only one girl. Only one. That’s it. Chloe Sevenstars ruined Joey’s life.”

  “Joey ruined Joey’s life. Have you seen how many six packs that guy packs away?”

  AJ lifted his arm, ready to punch in Sammy’s ugly little face.

  “Oh, come on,” Sammy put his hands up and backed off. He hopped up on the cabinet counter and plucked a hammer off the peg board. “Word is Officer Jackson beat up a Carnival Circus clown at the hospital. She saw him walking down the hall carrying a balloon and went ape shit. Nobody knows who the joey was.”

  AJ smiled at him and gently tapped the bruised skin of his eye.

  “What the—?”

  “Uncle Marty had a contact he needed to get a message to inconspicuously. The hospital had called in a request to Carnival Circus to send a clown with a balloon to cheer up a little girl who was recovering from an emergency appendectomy. Martinez sent me. I didn’t know Pocahontas was there.”

  Sammy slapped the head of the ha
mmer against his palm. “You’re unbelievable, know that?”

  “That’s what she said…” AJ raised his right arm and kissed his bicep.

  Sammy ignored him. “So…wait a minute. You were the one who lied and said it was a planned performance?”

  AJ shrugged. “Yeah.”

  The usual whine returned to Sammy’s voice. “Why would you do that? This is my parole officer, AJ. She could send me back to prison any time she wants. I need to keep my nose clean, especially if we want to nick the bank.”

  AJ said, “She has other things on her mind, right now. Trust me.”

  Sammy gave him puppy eyes and sulked.

  “When have I never taken care of you?”

  Sammy didn’t have anything to say to that, so he kept his mouth shut. AJ liked him better that way.

  The truth was if the cop had gone to jail, AJ wouldn’t be able to get to her. Vengeance for Joey was a need he couldn’t explain. In fact, AJ didn’t entirely understand it himself, but he felt it. He felt the tempest raging inside, flowing like lava through his veins. Joey had been the only one there for him when his brother passed. Even now, he was the one who listened, who cared. Joey’s life had been wasted because of the cop wench. He was too much of a wuss to do anything about it, so as his friend AJ would step in for him, the same way Joey had stepped in for AJ. If he could make the scales balance for Joey, perhaps he’d find the balance again for himself.

  Sammy said, “I don’t understand your obsession with her.”

  AJ said impatiently, “I’m making her life miserable. Giving her payback for what she did to him. Joey’s my brother, man.”

  Sammy hopped off the counter and hammered a random nail sticking out of the garage wall. “How did Joey take it when you told him about her?”

  AJ tilted his head back and guzzled from the bottle. That was the other thing; Joey hadn’t taken it well at all. He drank for three days straight and missed work. Then, Joey started disappearing for hours at a time. Which was weird, Joey was usually a social creature, drunk and drowning in his woes, yes, but he didn’t like to be alone—avoided it like the plague. “Not well, I guess. Goes missing for hours at a time. Someone said he’s running around town with a kiddie hatchet.”

  Sammy shook his head. “Should have kept that big mouth of yours shut. Joey’s messed up in the head the same way his old man was. And you know what ol’ Joey did to his Pops.” Sammy swung the hammer like a baseball bat.

  Joey had once told him and Sammy that he’d beat his Pops senseless with a baseball bat. “The old man deserved it.”

  “That’s not the point,” Sammy pointed the hammer at AJ’s chest. His eyes hardened. “Your big mouth could ruin my plans and your best friend.”

  “Hey now,” AJ straightened his shoulders and tipped his bottle at Sammy. “Watch the way you talk to me. Remember who my Uncle is over here. Just because you got this little squirrely plan that might work, doesn’t mean you get to talk big stuff.”

  “Fuck you.” Sammy shook his head and replaced the hammer back on the peg board.

  “Fuck yourself,” AJ retorted.

  Sammy turned to leave when AJ said, “Hey, Sam-Sam.”

  Sammy didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

  “Count me in on Saturday.”

  “You’re in. But when this goes down, I want everyone to know I was the mastermind behind it.”

  “What are you trying to say?” AJ put his hands on his hips.

  Sammy looked back at Martinez, who was still pacing back and forth, yelling into the phone. His cheeks raised into a thin grin. If he had a chin, he might have looked like the joker. “There’s always a bigger shark.”

  AJ felt a tightening in his stomach. “You better not be threatening my Uncle Marty.”

  “Who me? I’m just a little fry.” The whine returned to his voice, Sammy slipped his hands into his back pockets and slumped his shoulders like a loser, but the predatory look remained in his eyes.

  AJ realized that Sammy had been playing him, switching roles for years perhaps. He decided it didn’t matter. Let Sammy walk around with his britches yanked up to his ribs and five seasons of Breaking Bad stroking his ego. AJ would let him get away spouting off like he was some powerful Heisenberg, plotting to take over his Uncle’s business.

  They’d rob the bank this weekend, and then AJ would make things right—one way or another.

  A car pulled into the lot as Sammy was walking away.

  AJ did a double take when he saw Pocahontas.

  Sammy looked back at him with that little kid frightened look on his face. That fear was no act. AJ gave him a grin that said, I’ll take care of you.

  And he would.

  This cop was his.

  19

  The Boy and the Sparrow

  CHLOE RECOGNIZED SAMMY AND WAVED AT him as she pulled into the parking lot of Martinez Tires and Oil. She had been thoroughly surprised that the place did indeed exist.

  As usual, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. AJ’s Uncle—Martinez—had a criminal history in dealing. Most of it dated back to the eighties. The lack of recent arrests wasn’t because he had stopped dealing—he had gotten clever. With a little digging, Chloe discovered Martinez was the owner of Carnival Circus. He was suspected of using the business to launder drug money.

  Chloe put the car into park, grabbed her Moleskine off the dashboard, and hustled out of the car. By the look on Sammy’s pale face, he was either about to pee his pants or make a run for it.

  AJ was dressed in a jumpsuit, leaning against the counter and wiping his hands on a rag. It might have been because he was standing in the shadows, but Chloe could swear he was covered in bruises. He was watching Sammy who had turned and started marching into the darkness of the garage when Chloe called out, “Mr. Johnson! I thought I’d find you here.”

  Sammy froze, turned his head, and peered at her.

  Caught.

  Her heels clicked on the pavement, turning into clickety-clack-clack echoes as she entered the garage and paused in front of the Honda. Chloe smiled warmly. “You weren’t going to run just now, were you?” It was meant as a light tease to relax Sammy.

  He glanced back into the garage. She followed his gaze and saw that there was an office with a long, rectangle window. An older Hispanic man spoke into a cell, flailing his free arm. He was muscular and dressed in a black button-down shirt. As if he sensed Chloe was there, he paused and turned toward the window, locking eyes with Chloe.

  Huh.

  She diverted her attention back to Sammy who was sauntering back toward her now with his arms folded across his chest.

  AJ kneeled before a tool chest, pulling out different sized wrenches.

  Chloe offered her hand to Sammy. “I’m Officer Jackson, in case you don’t remember me from last week.”

  “Oh, I remember you all right.” Sammy untucked one of his hands and shook hers. It was a light shake, and his hands felt clammy.

  Chloe said, “Are you okay, Sammy? You’re pale as a ghost.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m not feeling well, so quitting out early today.”

  “Hmm…” Chloe plucked the pencil from behind her ear and scribbled in her notebook. She glanced sidelong at him and noticed he’d broken out into a sweat. She lowered her voice, “Are you in trouble here?”

  AJ, who was covered in bruises, kept an eye on them from his toolbox. The man behind the window, who Chloe assumed was Martinez, now held a cup of coffee and watched her intensely from the window.

  Sammy said, “Oh no, I think it’s the flu.” He sneezed to make his point.

  “Bless you.” Chloe pulled out a small pack of Kleenex she kept in her pocket and offered it to Sammy.

  He reached forward with his left hand, his little nub of a pinky waggled as he tugged out a Kleenex and wiped his nose on it. A brown mop of hair fell around his face. Chloe thought Sammy would have fit well into the 70’s.

  She said, “I’m sorry you’re not well. I won’t take much
of your time today.”

  Sammy nodded. “I would appreciate it. Thanks.”

  She found herself staring at his pinky. “How did it happen?”

  “What?” Sammy looked down at his left hand. “Oh.”

  He glanced over at AJ, who ignored them.

  Sammy said, “I chopped it.”

  Chloe raised her eyebrow. “On purpose?”

  “No, no,” he snickered, relaxing a little. “On accident. I was, uh,” he made chopping motions, “chopping a carrot.”

  “A carrot?”

  “For a salad. I was high, you know, and I thought my pinky was a carrot.”

  Chloe raised her eyebrows further. “Oh, my.”

  “Yeah.”

  Chloe said, “Couldn’t they reattach it?”

  Sammy said, “They tried, but... It wasn’t going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because… Because I had chopped it into little pieces.” He glanced back at AJ, who shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  “Oh?”

  Sammy continued, “So little that they couldn’t reattach it.”

  “Uh huh.” Chloe lifted her face toward the sun and closed her eyes. The rays felt delicious on her skin, melting away the dark revealing of the night before.

  To keep Sammy out of prison, Chloe needed to whisk Sammy away from AJ and his Uncle. But he wasn’t a child, he made his own decisions. It was Chloe’s job to influence him, to get him to think about his actions and the following consequences.

  Etsi was present with her this morning, along with the beloved story of the Uktena. This is what she drew on now.

  She opened her eyes to find Sammy watching her. Curiosity on his face. Perfect.

  Chloe slipped the notebook into her pocket, and motioned him to follow her. “I want to stand outside in the sun. Come on.”

  They walked to just outside the garage. AJ crept closer to them, dragging the tool box with him.

  A gentle wind blew strands of hair into Chloe’s eyes, and she swept her hair back. “I’ve got a story for you.”

  Surprised, Sammy asked, “A story?”

  She said, “Once there was a boy who lived with his tribe in the heart of the forest. The small village lived peacefully. They drew sustenance from the fruit of the land and valued the ancient pact of friendship with the winds, rivers, trees, and beasts.

 

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