by Jeff Shelby
I remembered the look I’d gotten from Lonnie at Peter’s house. It was enough to make anyone uncomfortable.
“She was supposed to call me after her first class yesterday. She didn’t, and I knew something was wrong. When she finally did call, she was crying and screaming,” he said, his voice wavering. “They’d been waiting for her in a parking garage at school. Lonnie got on the phone and told me if I didn’t show up, he’d kill her.”
I gave him a minute before asking my next question, the one that had been in my head since I’d stepped into Peter Pluto’s home.
“What did Lonnie want from you?”
His jaw went rigid. “I owe them money.”
“From the gun sales?”
“Yeah.”
“Here’s a question. Why the hell would you steal their money?” I asked, unable to keep the bewilderment out of my voice. “Both your aunt and your brother told me about your trust fund. Did you blow through it?”
“My trust fund only covers school and what I need to live on,” he said, irritated. “And that’s it. Tuition goes straight to the registrar and I get a monthly stipend deposited into my checking account. It can only be used for that stuff until I’m twenty-five.” He paused. “I didn’t take the money for me.”
I was skeptical that a kid who had recently lost both parents couldn’t pull more out of his trust fund if he needed it. “You couldn’t get more money from it after both of your parents passed away?”
He shook his head adamantly. “No. I tried. But there were no exceptions to how the trust was drawn up.”
I nodded. “Okay. Who did you steal the money for, then?”
He put his hands over his eyes again, pressing his palms into them, like he was trying to force whatever he was thinking out of his head.
He pulled his hands away and folded his arms across his chest. “You saw Malia’s house. Her neighborhood. Her financial aid didn’t cover everything. She was out of money for tuition. She wasn’t gonna be able to finish her last semester. If I could’ve used my own money, I would have. But I can’t. Couldn’t. So I took the money from the last sale I made, gave it to her, and told her it was from my trust. She didn’t want to take it, but I finally convinced her.”
The money explained why Lonnie and Mo had been looking for him when I’d run into them at Peter’s house. They killed Peter as a warning for Linc to pay up. And they’d killed Malia because they wanted to stick it to him, since they still hadn’t seen the money. And, probably, simply because she was a black girl dating a white guy.
Linc squeezed his hands together tightly, his fingers turning bright red. I wondered whose imaginary head was between his hands.
“Even if I had the money to bring out there, they were gonna kill us. But I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t figure out how to get her out of there. And then it was too late.” He shook his head, the misery clenching his features. “I’m so stupid.”
I didn’t know where I stood on Linc’s stupidity. On one hand, he had attempted to help Malia and escape what he realized had become a situation that had spiraled out of his control. But on the other hand, the one that I wanted to slap him with, he had taken the worst route possible to try and make those things happen.
“Why were you back at the apartment this morning?” I asked.
“I wanted to get the guns I had left,” Linc said. “I’d already brought some of them here, but I wanted to get the rest. To get rid of them. I was gonna try and find someone else to sell them to, so I’d have some money to get the hell out of here. But they were gone. So I just grabbed my clothes and bailed.”
I was glad I had told Wellton about the guns in Linc’s apartment, because I felt confident that Linc would’ve somehow screwed up getting rid of the guns.
“So now what?” I finally asked. “You said you need my help. You want to escape? Get away from these guys?”
His head snapped up, anger back on his face. “That’s what you got from all this? That I’m just some scared kid who doesn’t want to get hurt?”
I said nothing because that was exactly what I thought.
He stood. “I don’t wanna hide from them anymore, you asshole. Those fuckin’ skinheads killed my brother and they killed Malia. As far as I’m concerned, they killed my father, too. Fuck them and their money.”
“What do you want, then?” I asked.
“I want you to help me finish this,” Linc Pluto said, his voice full of anger, back to where it was when I’d first sat him on the couch. “Finish them.”
Forty
“I’m not gonna help you kill anyone,” I said.
Linc stared hard at me for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying. Then he shrugged. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“I don’t need your help.”
I stood. “Yeah, you do.”
He sneered. “Oh, right. You’ve done such a bang up job so far on all this.”
The sympathy that I’d been feeling for the kid for the last few minutes was quickly shifting into anger. “And if your brother had been smart and just left you alone, I wouldn’t have been dragged into any of this.”
He turned away from me. “Fuck off.”
I grabbed his arm and spun him back. “Hey. You think I don’t feel bad about what’s happened? To your brother and Malia and Rachel? I do. And I wanna get it set straight. But you hunting down a bunch of assholes and killing them does nothing. For anyone.”
“Does for me,” he said, and lunged at me with his free arm.
His fist glanced off my shoulder. I slid my hand down to his wrist and twisted hard. His face screwed up into a knot of pain and I kicked his legs out from under him. He landed with a thud, the air rushing out of his chest.
“You can’t even take me out,” I said. “And I’m not even close to being as dangerous as Mo or Deacon or any of those other guys.”
The adrenaline surge made my skin tingle. I watched Linc lay on the floor and try to get his breath back. He was wincing, the pain in his back probably surprising him. Landing flat on your spine will do that.
“The best place for you is somewhere safe,” I said.
He grunted. “Where’s that?”
I ignored the question. “I will take care of this,” I said. “I’m better equipped.”
“You weren’t yesterday. You couldn’t save Malia.”
I resisted the urge to plant my foot in his ribs. “Neither could you, asshole. However, I will make sure Lonnie and Mo pay for what they did to Peter and Malia. And I will make sure that Deacon and his boys back off.”
“I can do it myself,” he said, sounding like a four-year-old trying to use a fork for the first time.
“No, you can’t,” I said.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, reaching around to rub his back. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care?” he asked. “My brother hired you. He’s…gone. It’s none of your business anymore.”
Lonnie and Mo had made it my business, but I didn’t feel the need to explain that to Linc.
“I promised your aunt,” I said, telling him part of the truth. “I told her I’d find you.”
“You did that.”
“My promises are all-inclusive. Finding you means keeping you safe.”
“I can keep myself safe.”
“Really? That why you’re hiding out here? That why you were hiding behind Malia’s door when I showed up?”
His chin dropped and he looked away from me, his jaw locked tight.
I sat down in the chair. “Linc, I’m not trying to embarrass you. But you’re in over your head right now. You’ve told me as much. I’ll clean it up. It’s what I do.”
He picked at his shoelaces, his head still hung. He looked like a puppy that wasn’t sure how to grow up.
“They killed my brother and my girlfriend,” he said quietly. “I’m not gonna let that go.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m telling y
ou that I will take care of it. It’s better that way.”
He grunted and then looked up at me, confusion and frustration on his face. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
This was the part I didn’t know how to explain to him yet.
“I’m gonna put you someplace where no one can get to you,” I said, pulling out my cell phone.
He smirked. “Where? The Arctic Circle?”
I scrolled through the phone book, looking for the number I wanted. “A lot closer than that.”
The smirk changed to wariness. “Where?”
“Jail,” I said.
“What the fuck?” Linc said, leaping to his feet and knocking the phone out of my hand.
Lunging out of the chair, I caught Linc right in the sternum and shoved him backward. His head popped back when he hit the sofa and cracked against the wall. Before he had a chance to recover, I rolled him over onto his stomach and put my knee into his back. A holding cell was the safest place for him right now, even if he didn’t understand that.
“Linc, trust me,” I said
“Yeah, Linc. Trust the homeboy,” a voice said behind us.
I turned around.
Deacon and Wesley were standing in the doorway, each armed and smiling like they’d won the lottery.
Forty-one
Deacon jerked his head at Wesley. “Check the rest of the place.”
Wesley dutifully moved out of the room with his TEC-9 and disappeared into the back of the house.
“Bring it out,” Deacon said to me, fixing a massive handgun on me. “Slow.”
I moved off of Linc and reached around to my waistband, pulling out my Glock.
“Lay it down.”
I did.
He looked at Linc. “You been runnin’ from me, boy.”
Linc rolled over and stared at him, no fear or anger on his face. Just resolution.
“But you knew I’d catch you,” Deacon said, smiling at him. “One of my boys was watching your crib this morning, and damn if he don’t see some dude look just like you hauling ass outta there.” His smile got bigger. “Can’t nobody run from me.”
“Empty,” Wesley said, coming back into the room. “Some guns are back here, though.”
They were smart. Deacon stood by the front door and Wesley stood behind us. We were in the middle and cut off from any exit.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” I said, looking to buy a little time and try to throw him off track.
Rage bubbled up in his eyes. “Fuck you, you motherfucker. Don’t talk about my sister.”
“I tried to help her,” I said.
“Great fuckin’ job.”
“He tried to help her,” Linc said. “We both did.”
Deacon’s eyes shot fury in Linc’s direction. “You didn’t fuckin’ help my sister, you white cocksucker. It was your goddamn fault that she ended up like she did.”
“I didn’t want it that way,” Linc said. “I didn’t. I just wanted to be with her.”
“You are so fucked up, boy,” Deacon said. “I mean, so fucked up, okay? You think I was gonna let my sister date a little piece of shit like you? For real?”
Linc stayed quiet.
“She didn’t need you screwing her up, man,” Deacon continued. “She was gonna do something, alright? Get the fuck out of our ghetto house and do something with her life. But then you went and got all gigolo on her. And now she’s dead, motherfucker. Dead like you’re gonna be.”
Linc stared at the floor. “I loved her.”
Deacon took a step toward him, his muscles rigid. “What, motherfucker?”
“I loved her.”
Deacon shoved the barrel of the gun against Linc’s forehead. “Say it again, motherfucker. Say it again.”
“He loved her,” I said, trying to draw his attention.
Deacon moved the gun in my direction. “What the fuck you know?”
“They wanted to be together,” I said.
Deacon’s nostrils flared, his eyes ready to burst out of his head. “She ain’t here to love now, boy, is she? She gone and neither of y’all did shit to stop it.”
“Not true,” I said. “Think what you want. I’m sorry she’s dead. But Linc and I tried to prevent it.” I paused, weighing my words. “If anyone’s responsible, it’s you.”
Deacon took several slow steps back, looking at me in disbelief. “I know you didn’t just say that.”
“Those guys just swooped in and took her,” I said. “Come on, man. No one was looking out for her. You were sleepin’ on the job.”
Deacon shook his head, anger flooding his eyes. “No. Fuck you, man. This is your fault.”
“And what the hell, Deacon?” I continued, figuring I was already in deep. “You always wanna kill guys that date your sister? Maybe if you hadn’t shot his friend and acted like a maniac, Linc wouldn’t have had to hide from you and I wouldn’t have had to start looking for him.” I paused. “If he doesn’t have to hide from you, maybe Malia is left out of all this. And she’d be alive.”
Deacon’s hand clenched tighter on the gun. My words weren’t backing him off. He was looking for payback for his sister’s murder and he wasn’t going to stop until he got it.
“And bottom line,” I said, “neither of us pulled the trigger.”
He blinked and I thought maybe I’d gotten through to him, maybe hit on the tiny part of reason that was left in his mind.
But then it was gone.
“I don’t give a shit about none of that,” he said. “All I know is my sister’s dead and she was fine until you two motherfuckers showed up in her life.”
He had a point.
“Wizard give you the okay on this?” I asked, looking to buy some time. “On taking us out? I mean, I know you can’t do anything without his approval.”
Moreno walked slowly toward me, the gun aimed at the center of my forehead. He pressed the barrel into my skull.
“Listen up, you cocksucker,” he said quietly. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. You understand that?”
“Didn’t seem that way to me when I talked to Wizard,” I said evenly.
“Wizard don’t control me,” he said, his voice now rising. “No one does. Wizard’s in charge ’cause he likes all the business and shit. Thinks he’s some sort of professional dude.” He shook his head. “He just like the rest of us, just more of a pussy. That motherfucker doesn’t even remember what it’s like to put a bullet in anybody no more. Lets us do all his fuckin’ work now.”
I’d hit a chord. Deacon Moreno was not happy being an underling. He didn’t appreciate having to answer to Matellion.
“So fuck Wizard and fuck you,” he said.
He pressed the gun harder into my forehead. I could feel the cold metal digging into my skin.
“How’s that feel, homeboy?” he asked, grinning like a madman.
“Great,” I said, thinking I’d made a huge mistake by ever talking to Peter Pluto on the beach.
“Then you’re gonna love this, motherfucker,” he said. “Good-night.”
I didn’t want to die looking at Deacon Moreno’s face.
But I didn’t think I had any choice.
Forty-two
The gunshot shattered the silence.
I flinched.
Deacon Moreno’s crazy smile melted from his face. He fell toward me.
I stepped back and let him hit the floor. A dark red spot was mushrooming in the center of his back.
Wesley’s TEC-9 was pointed where Deacon had been standing.
“People shouldn’t talk shit about Wizard,” he said, lowering the gun. “Easy to get dead that way.”
I looked at Linc. His arms were wrapped tight around his chest, his eyes wide with shock.
“Uh, thanks,” I said to Wesley, my heart thumping hard in my chest. “I think.”
“Don’t thank me,” Wesley said. “Just doing what I’m told.”
“Who told you to shoot your partner?”
W
esley turned around. Wizard Matellion stepped into the room, Big Ollie following close behind. Wizard nodded at Moreno’s body. Ollie walked over, lifted him up like he was a pen that had rolled off a table, placed him on his shoulder, and headed toward the back of the house.
“You alright?” Matellion asked.
“Fine,” I said.
“Was afraid old Deacon might try something like this,” he explained. “That’s why I had Wesley prepared. We kinda planned on this, so Wesley was instructed to call me-discreetly, of course-and let us know when and where. He made sure a door was unlocked for us.”
I looked at Wesley. He’d found a straw somewhere and was now chewing it furiously.
Linc continued to hug himself.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Matellion said, grinning. “I’m not in love with you or nothing. I just can’t deal with insubordination. Shootin’ folks has its place, but not when it’s not called for.”
The logic of criminals had saved me.
“You asked the other day about a couple of things,” Matellion continued. “I did not know about either the girl or the incident that involved you. You made me aware. But those things were done without my permission. They were personal for Deacon and that was unfortunate.”
“So he definitely was the person who shot the girl at the apartment?” I asked.
Matellion looked at Wesley.
“Deacon was pissed that his sister was dating a white dude.” Welsey explained. “Then, when he found out this dude wasn’t even square with his sister, he went cold crazy.” He paused. “He couldn’t find this dude, so he decided next best thing to do was to get the other girl.”
His use of the word “he” was interesting. I assumed Wesley had been along for the ride for what had occurred but was hanging it all on Deacon. Understandable, now that Deacon couldn’t defend himself.
