1 Portrait of a Dead Guy

by Larissa Reinhart

  I edged closer to Todd and took his hand in comfort. He squeezed back. When I looked up for his reaction, he remained focused on the long hall, his nostrils quivering and palms sweating. If I was going down, I couldn’t ask for anyone more loyal than Todd.

  Except maybe someone who could get me out of this mess.

  Max pressed the alarm screen and pointed to a door at the end of the hall on our left. “After you,” he grunted.

  Todd grabbed the knob and pulled me through the door. We blundered into a dark windowless room. Behind us, Max fumbled for the light switch. Light dimmed from translucent sconces ringing a home theater. We stood near a curtained wall faced with two rows of recliner chairs. The back row had been raised on a short platform to create stadium-style seating. A popcorn machine stood near the door.

  “Whoa,” said Todd. “This is so cool. This is much better than the old junk upstairs.”

  My eyes spied a door near the back. I looked back at Max crowding the exit once again.

  He flexed his beefy arms before planting them on his hips. “Sit down.”

  Todd leapt into the nearest chair and found a remote control stuck in the side of the seat. He pushed back in the seat, popping up the footrest, and the lounger began to vibrate.

  “Chhh-eee-rrr-yyy,” Todd’s voice pulsated with the chair. “You gotta try this.”

  My gaze flicked back to Max, wondering if he was going to hold us in the theater for long.

  “Sit, artist. Enjoy the chair like your friend. I’ll be back in a moment.” He strode out, slamming the door behind him. I skipped to Todd and grabbed the remote from his hand, pushing the off button with more strength than necessary.

  “What are you doing? We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “I know. The door at the end of the hall is the garage. I could smell the motor oil. But it’s probably locked up tight with all those expensive vehicles. You’re best to try another room on the other side of the hall.”

  “Why the other side?”

  “This side is the hill. You got to go to the other side for the walkout. It probably goes to the pool.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I deliver to houses with these kinds of basements all the time. The customers have me walk round to the back door. Usually it’s sliding glass. Sometimes they’ve got a pool room or a workshop, but I never seen anything this nice.”

  “Todd, you’re a genius.” My eyes sparkled with teary admiration. My puppy had grown into a guard dog. A tall muscular guard dog with gorgeous blue eyes and an amazing jaw line.

  He yanked keys from his pocket and tossed them to me. “I keep telling you that. You’re always underestimating me. You take the Civic.”

  “I can’t leave you.”

  “Go report to the sheriff. Maybe I can convince Mr. Max to play some hands or look at the swords again. I’ll just tell him you’re in the bathroom. Don’t worry. I’m pretty good at distracting folks.”

  I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll never underestimate you again. I promise to bring Uncle Will right away.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he murmured and brushed my hair aside to place his hand on the back of my neck.

  Before he could pull me into a kiss, I slid from his embrace and ran to the door. Grabbing the handle, I felt the knob rotate beneath my palm. I scurried back to Todd. The door swung open, and Max walked in, carrying a folded table.

  “We have business to discuss, artist.” He plunked the table on the ground before Todd’s chair. “But first, young Todd will show me his tricks.”

  Todd and I shared a long glance and flinched at a loud crack. Max popped out a leg, constructing the table with the speed of a Marine reassembling a gun. He pulled a deck of cards from his pocket to toss on the green felt.

  “First you explain your method, Todd, then I will speak to Miss Tucker.” His glance commanded me to wait. “A simpleton cannot defeat me. Todd must have a method. I don’t believe his act for one minute.”

  Todd shrugged and slid forward in his seat, drumming the table with his open palms. “What’s your game? Hold ‘Em, Triple Draw, Crazy Pineapple?”

  “Take off your bag and relax.” Again Max pointed to the chair next to Todd. I didn’t move. Max yanked the strap of my messenger bag over my head and slid it to the floor. “Try the massage chair.”

  Biting my lip, I stared at my bag holding the sketches of Dustin’s stolen items now lying at Max’s feet.

  “I’m going to the little girl’s room,” I said and strode to the door. The bag would have to stay with Todd. I hoped Max wouldn’t think to peek in the sketchbook.

  He jerked a thumb to the back wall. “Go there.”

  I hesitated. How long were we going to play this game?

  “Up there,” his low voice growled.

  I slunk away from the door, squeezing Todd’s shoulder on my way up the riser. Locking the bathroom door, I tried not to panic and checked the cupboards for anything useful. Just fluffy towels and pretty soaps in fine European packaging. I was hoping the linen closet was stocked with guns and ammo, but when I opened the door, it led to another dark room. I hesitated before crossing the threshold. Either this pitch-black room was Max’s inner lair of torture devices or he had forgotten to reset the alarm when he got the card table.

  I smacked the wall, searching for a light switch. Finding several, I hit them all. The room leapt to life. I blinked against the glare of the bulbs of a million colored lights winking from various signs on the walls.

  Holy shit, I thought, the Bear brought Vegas to Georgia.

  A glittering chandelier hung over a felt covered table ringed in luscious dark stained wood. Ten leather armchairs circled the table. I stood next to a cashier’s booth topped in lighted letters. Brass slot machines lined one long wall. A gaming table shaped like a figure eight faced a fully stocked mahogany bar at the far end.

  I swept my eyes over the room searching for another exit and spotted a small door sandwiched between video gaming machines and a bank of slots. Ducking into a long hallway, I heard a door creak. I darted through a doorway on the opposite side of the hall. Light poured through French doors leading to the pool. I dashed to the glass door, fumbled with the lock, and sped through before hearing the locks tumble behind me.

  Lord Almighty, the Bear must have finally reset the alarm. I stared up in the sky and thought about blowing a kiss. But we weren’t out of the woods yet.

  My poor Todd remained locked in a windowless room, forced to bluff his way through a card game. Waiting on me to save his life.

  While my brain fixated on Todd in that basement playing cards with the devil himself, my body drove Todd’s Civic on muscle memory. My driving felt worthy of Talladega on the open country stretches as I raced toward rescue. My first thought was to find the closest phone, but didn’t want to waste time knocking on the doors of all the little houses sprinkled along the highway. The Sheriff’s Office was too far away in Line Creek, but JB’s dealership was just on this edge of town. Cody wasn’t working, but salesmen cultivated shoppers on Saturday. I could snatch a phone in one of the little offices in the cinderblock hall, call the sheriff. And maybe talk someone into returning to Max’s house with me.

  I pushed the little red vehicle to its limits, screeching into the parking lot at 60 mph. The Civic took the corner loose, and I slammed the brakes to halt at the edge of the lot. No one milled around the stretch of pre-owned vehicles, so I ran for the building. Ronny Price hung outside the glass doors, sunning his oily features in the spring sunshine. His salesman radar perked at my jog to the showroom and he met me between a line of sedans.

  “I am sure glad to see you,” he said. “You look hot. Step into the shade.”

  “Ronny, I need a phone,” I panted, bending over Ronny’s tasseled loafer
s. “Quickly.”

  “You’re in luck. My car’s parked just down this line. You can have a seat in total luxury and talk in privacy.”

  “Don’t try to sell me a car. I have an emergency.”

  “Let’s get going then.”

  We sped down the line of sedans to a polished silver Town Car.

  “Hop in.” Ronny opened the passenger door for me. I scrambled inside. “How do you like the Lincoln?” He ran his hands over the leather and wood dash, preening. “Not as large as the F-150, but a classic. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “Does it have a phone?” I asked, wishing Ronny would hurry up.

  “Of course, this beauty comes with a top-of-the line navigation and security system. Hands free voice control, for the phone, too.”

  “How on earth do I use it?”

  He popped the glove compartment door, pulled out a cell phone, and handed it to me. “Here, use this one.”

  I pushed the numbers for Will’s private line. Ronny cracked the driver door and slid in beside me. As Will’s ringer flipped over to voicemail, I smiled at Ronny and risked a crazy-sounding question.

  “Would you drive me to Max Avtaikin’s house while I call the police?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I jammed 911 with my thumb. “Mr. Max has my friend locked in his basement. And I think he killed Dustin and Pete. He pretty much admitted to me Dustin stole some old coins from him.”

  “He did?” Ronny’s voice climbed with excitement and his eyes nearly popped from his skull. “Call the police, we’re on our way.”

  I put the phone to my ear and spoke to the dispatcher. “Hey, who is this? Mindy? This is Cherry Tucker. I’ve got something to report to Sheriff Will. Can you patch me through?”

  Mindy squawked a reply in my ear. Ronny pulled forward in the parking space and turned toward the far end of the lot.

  “He’s busy? Listen, Mindy, this is important,” I paused, listening. “I know, but this time it is really important. Tell Uncle Will that I’m returning to Max Avtaikin’s house... That’s right I said returning. And Max has Todd locked in the basement. Yes, I said locked. They’re playing poker, but I don’t know how long Todd will last.”

  I pulled the phone from my ear and glared at the receiver before slipping it back. “What do you mean you’ve got another call? Dammit, Mindy. Tell Uncle Will that Max killed Dustin and Pete and I have proof. I escaped the basement, but Todd’s still there and I’m going back to save him…

  Hello? Hello!”

  I hung up with a frustrated scream.

  “Sounds like she had trouble believing you,” Ronny said as he accelerated down Oakleaf. The engine revved as I fastened my seatbelt.

  “I’m going to try Uncle Will again. Mindy Carroll is an idiot. This thing’s got a V8, right? Can’t you go faster?”

  “We’re still in town. Hand me the phone and I’ll call for you. They’re more likely to believe me.” He turned right with cautious precision and made another left onto the state road. Never taking his eyes from the road, Ronny grabbed the phone with one hand and dropped it in his lap. “Maybe you should have been more patient with Mindy.”

  “You’re right.” I smacked the leather door rest and cursed under my breath.

  “You seem to be having a bad day.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Can you try calling now?”

  My legs jiggled with nervous energy while I massaged my temples until the vibration made me nauseous. The car felt heavy and slow. I longed to thrust my foot on top of Ronny’s loafers, squeezing those little tassels flat as I pushed his ridiculous Lincoln to the limits. I sniffed the air and my stomach flipped over at a familiar odor: scotch. We rolled to a stop at a four-way. I looked up to see Ronny staring at the stop sign like he was trying to read Sanskrit.

  “Ronny?” I said, wondering if JB knew Ronny carried a flask during work hours. “I need the sheriff at Mr. Max’s house like ten minutes ago. If we get there before the police, I’m going to need you to distract him while I rescue Todd.”

  The vehicle jerked forward, turned in a gentle ninety degree arc, then accelerated. Ronny rolled his window down and a breeze whipped my hair around my face.

  “Aren’t we going the wrong way?”

  “I thought we’d go someplace quiet and work this all out. Could you hand me a tissue? In the center console.”

  I pulled open the console, yanked a tissue from a little box, and held it out. It fluttered in the wind and Ronny snatched it. With the tissue, Ronny picked up the phone, quickly wiped it down, then tossed it out the window. My jaw dropped.

  “What did you do that for?”

  “It wasn’t my phone”

  “Who’s phone was it?”

  “Dustin’s.”

  SEVENTEEN

  “How could that be Dustin’s phone?” I stared at his slick pompadour. This is what I got for being nice to lonely middle-aged men. “Is this about last night? I’m sorry that we were interrupted by Luke, and then I got all riled up about Todd’s songs…”

  “No, this is not about last night.” He peered out the window. His eyes roamed over the cars in the parking lot of a landscaping nursery. “But now that you mention it, I did buy you a lot of drinks. You were supposed to leave with me.” Ronny’s voice climbed like the reedy yap of a small dog. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. “Now I’m driving you around in the middle of the day where all of Halo can see us.”

  “You’re embarrassed to be seen with me? I haven’t even agreed to go out with you.”

  “Just shut up a minute. I’m trying to think and you keep yammering.”

  “Excuse me? Did you just tell me to shut up? I need Sheriff Thompson, Ronny. And there’s no way in hell that I’m going out with you.”

  “You think I want to date you? Christ Almighty, Cherry Tucker. Why would I be interested in a little nothing like you?”

  I opened my mouth and clamped it shut, my lips disappearing from view.

  Ronny laughed. “You are just like your momma. Did anyone tell you that? Thought the world revolved around her and every man was hers for the taking. She was no more than a bitch in heat. All blonde hair and boobs. And you only got the blonde hair.” He laughed harder.

  I slid closer to the door and curled my fingers around the handle. “You are a genuine asshole, Ronny Price.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” He flicked a glance at me. “Don’t think about getting out of this car.”

  His left hand pressed the lock before dropping toward the floor. He fumbled beside his door for a moment, his eyes on the road and right hand gripping the wheel. He jerked his left hand up, pulling my Remington Wingmaster into his lap with a finger through the trigger guard. The barrel jutted around the center console, aimed at my knees.

  I pulled my knees toward my chest. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting something back that was stolen from me that I stole from someone else.” Ronny accelerated past the town limits toward the countryside. The blacktop felt extraordinarily bumpy.

  I slid my legs underneath me. “What did you steal?”

  “What do you think? The C.S.A. coins. Which you are going to produce because I know you have them. You have to have them. You have Dustin’s stuff. Everybody in town knows that.”

  I swore under my breath and hugged my knees tighter.

  “You just saved me a lot of trouble. I’ve been trying to get you to help me one way or another. Now when they find your body, everyone will think Avtaikin shot you.”

  “But,” I stuttered. I had unwittingly set up a semi-innocent man.

  For once in my life, my mind didn’t spin in all different directions. It had slowed to cold molasses. My thoughts dribbled into a dark puddle that dimly reflected Ronny Price and my gun in his
lap. I watched the low-rent houses on the outside of town dwindle. The cleared land turned to sweeps of spindly Loblolly pine and scruffy hardwoods.

  “You’re telling me you stole the coins from the Bear?”

  “He probably stole them himself, the Ruskie bastard. He’s been robbing me blind with his stupid house accounts in that dungeon hellhole. Didn’t even want to let me play because I wasn’t ‘the right type.’ What a snob.”

  I choked back a pot-calling-the-kettle-black remark and let him continue.

  “When Dustin guessed I took the coins, he broke into my house and stole them. Which means Avtaikin already knows I have them or will figure it out soon. He’s already breathing down my neck for payment. That good-for-nothing Dustin tried to blackmail me. And after all I’ve done for JB. Years of service with crappy commissions.”

  “So you killed Dustin?”

  I still could not believe this was Ronny Price holding a gun on me and speeding off into the sunset. Ronny Price did not seem capable of murder. Gambling? Yes. Robbery? Absolutely. He ripped people off at the dealership all the time, so stealing the coins were probably not that far out of his wheelhouse. But murder? Ronny didn’t seem to have the balls for murder.

  I studied Ronny’s trembling grip on the rifle and the sweat dripping under his slick sideburns.

  “What about Creepy Pete?”

  “Who? You mean the other guy that works for Avtaikin?” Ronny jerked the car onto a gravel road hidden between copses of trees. “Pete was watching your house the other night, probably waiting to search for the coins. Maybe he’s just a peeping tom, but I can’t take chances. When he cornered me behind Cooper’s, I shot him. I was feeling jumpy. That’s the problem with guns.”

  Ronny focused on the bumpy narrow road. I winced and curled up between the console and seat back, not wanting to be in the line of fire if the gun accidentally went off. Of course, if he shot a load through the dash, he would probably blow us both up.

  “Look, I’m not going anywhere. Can you put the gun away while we’re on this road? You’ll kill us both if it goes off.”