Quiver

by Peter Leonard

  “I bring a bottle of Skyy,” Maureen said, “have a couple in my room before dinner and try to meet an eligible guy and bring him back for a nightcap.”

  Luke sat with them, eating in silence, Jack asking him questions whenever Maureen stopped talking, which wasn’t often.

  Jack said, “Luke, you a tennis player like your mom?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Kate said, “He has a big forehand and a two-handed backhand. Hits deep heavy topspin and has a hundred-and-ten-mile-an-hour serve.” She looked across the table at Luke. “He’s taking some time off, aren’t you, honey?”

  Luke didn’t react. He seemed uncomfortable. He ate fast and asked if he could be excused. Took his plate to the sink and walked out of the kitchen.

  Maureen got up, too, said she had an early appointment, told Jack it was nice meeting him and Kate walked her to the door.

  Then they were alone.

  Jack cleared the table and Kate did the dishes. She was at the sink, her back to him, rinsing out the wineglasses when he came up behind her, put his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

  She squirmed, wiggling out of his grasp, wet hands pushing him away. “Easy.”

  “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at the mall.”

  “Where’ve I heard that before?” She wondered how many times he’d used that line or a variation of it.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said.

  “That’s what you said the morning after we met-at the boat races.”

  “How do you remember that?”

  “I thought it was a good line,” Kate said, “like it was out of a movie.”

  She showed him the house. They walked through the living room to the sun porch. The backyard lights were on, illuminating the pool and tennis court. It was dark out, wind blowing, kicking up leaves.

  Jack said, “That Maureen’s a trip.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “What’s her story?”

  “How much time do you have?”

  She showed him the paneled den, her favorite room and the reason she wanted to buy the house.

  “This place is unbelievable,” Jack said.

  “Not bad for a girl who grew up on Spam, huh?”

  “Luke’s a nice kid,” Jack said. “I feel like I’ve met him before. He ever spend time in Tucson?”

  “You’re not going to start talking about fate and kismet again, are you?”

  He moved closer to her and she stepped away. “I’ve got something else I want to show you.” She took him to the billiard room, thinking it would be easier being with him if they had something to do.

  Jack said, “Wow. Look at that.”

  There was a 1922 Brunswick Arcade pool table in the center of the room. It was made out of mahogany with six massive legs and weighed 2,760 pounds.

  Kate said, “You want to play?”

  Jack said, “It’s been a while.”

  Kate said, “Are you hustling me?”

  There was a cue rack on the wall. He went over and picked out a stick. He chalked the tip and grinned at her. “If I win, you let me buy you dinner tomorrow night.”

  She said, “What if I win?”

  “You buy me dinner.”

  They played straight pool. Jack racked the balls and broke with a thunderous blast that put a couple in. He lined up a straight two-footer and banged it in the corner pocket. He kissed the second one in the middle pocket. She could see a swagger in his step now as he moved around the table. He sank six before he missed.

  “You’re not bad,” Kate said.

  Jack glanced at her and said, “What do you hear from Marina? Wasn’t that the girl from Guatemala?”

  “I get a Christmas card every year,” Kate said. “She lives in Jersey with her husband, Benigno, who now owns the landscape company he used to work for.”

  Kate used the bridge and banked one into the corner pocket.

  Jack said, “The American dream, huh?”

  Kate was lining up her next shot. She glanced at Jack across the table. “You making fun of him?”

  “No,” Jack said. “She ever tell him about the cop?”

  “I hope not.” She drilled one into the side pocket.

  “What was his name?”

  “Emiliano Garza,” Kate said. “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “Still remember him, huh?”

  Kate put her cue on the rail and leaned against the table. “I can still see his face staring at me. I used to wake up in the middle of the night, I’d swear I saw him standing at the end of my bed, grinning at me.”

  “You never gave me the full story,” Jack said.

  “I couldn’t talk about it at the time,” Kate said.

  “How about now?”

  She told him how she shot the two cops.

  Jack didn’t say anything. He just stared at her.

  “The scariest part,” Kate said, “was when we were on the bus, sitting there waiting to leave. Marina had the seat next to the window. She was grinning. We both were thinking we were getting away. Then a green Jeep pulled up next to the bus- Policia on the side. Captain Garza and two others got out.

  “You should have seen the look on Marina’s face. She was scared to death. She turned to me and slid down in her seat. I reached into my bag and pulled out the Beretta and showed it to her. She said, ‘What are you going to do?’

  “I said, ‘Whatever I have to.’ I was thinking that they must have found the dead cops, or maybe the Jeep?”

  Jack said, “How’d they know you were on the bus?”

  She picked up the cue stick and put the butt end on the floor and leaned it against the long side of the table. “Unless you had a car,” Kate said, “it was the only way out of town. I watched Captain Garza moving along the side of the bus, looking in the windows, smoking his cigar. He had an automatic in a black holster on his right hip. As he approached our window, we got up and offered our seats to an elderly Mayan couple Marina knew, the Olivares. Marina stood next to me in the crowded aisle, fighting for space as Garza’s men got on the bus, one entering from the front and the other from the rear, yelling and pushing their way down the aisle.

  “When they got within ten feet, I drew the Beretta and cocked the hammer. I turned my back as one of the cops approached. I could feel my heart pounding. I was ready to turn and shoot him, but he passed by me.

  “They weren’t looking for us. The cops grabbed a short thin Mayan who looked young, no more than twenty. They took him off the bus and tried to cuff his hands and he broke free and took off running across the dusty parking lot. People on the bus were cheering for him, hoping he’d get away.

  “I watched Captain Garza draw the pistol from his holster, aim at the man, extending his arm and firing. The man staggered and fell forward in the dirt.

  “I could see Garza standing by the Jeep as the bus pulled away. I released the hammer and dropped the Beretta back in my bag and put my arms around Marina. I remember the day; I’ll remember it forever-San Pedro, Guatemala, August 11, 1990.”

  Jack came around the table and stood next to her.

  “My god,” he said. “I had no idea.”

  He put his arms around her and tried to kiss her.

  Kate said, “Cool it, will you?” Hands on his chest, pushing him away.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She pictured Owen watching her and said, “You should probably go.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “What am I doing? It’s got to be nine thirty, quarter to ten. I’ve got to go home, get to bed.”

  Luke watched part of Spider-Man 2. He was tired and he’d seen it four times. He pushed the power button on the remote and the screen went black. He bunched up his pillow and put his head down and closed his eyes. Leon was next to him, crowding him, so he moved over a couple inches. He heard the clock on the bedside table, ticking. Then he heard voices. He got out of bed and went to the window and looked down. Jack and his mom we
re on the driveway. Jack put his arms around her and Luke felt sick to his stomach. What was going on? His mom said they were old friends. It looked to Luke like more than that. He went back to bed, but he couldn’t sleep.

  THIRTEEN

  The next morning, Jodie gave him a ride to the airport. Jack had told her he was leaving, catching an early flight back to Tucson to find a job. Nobody was hiring in Detroit. It was 6:30 a.m. when she dropped him off at the terminal. She parked at the curb, turned in her seat and locked her gaze on him.

  “I guess I’ll see you in four years.”

  That was how long it had been since she’d last seen him; Jodie being funny.

  “Stay straight, Jackie, will you please? For me, if not for yourself.”

  Jack said, “My bad-boy days are over.”

  “You’re a good person. You’ve got so much to offer. Get a job like the rest of us and make something of yourself.”

  Problem was, he wasn’t like most people. He’d never be able to hold a job and play it straight. He thanked Jodie for everything, leaned over, kissed her on the cheek. He got out and opened the back door and pulled his knapsack out of the backseat. Jodie waved through the window and he waved back.

  He went in the terminal, took the escalator to the second floor, read the signs, and went left looking for long-term parking. He walked behind the first row of cars. There was a cool breeze, wind whipping through the parking structure. He heard a jet, saw it through an opening in the parking deck and watched it take off.

  A dark SUV approached and crept past him, looking for a parking space. He studied the nameplates on the cars, stopping at a Mercedes E500. He went around the car, checked to see if the doors were locked. They were. Checked the frame under the driver’s door but didn’t find what he was looking for. He moved down the row to a Cadillac Escalade, did the same thing again. No luck.

  There was a green Lexus 430 in the next row. He walked around it and checked all the obvious hiding places and found a yellow magnetic box covered with road scum attached to the frame under the rear bumper. He pried it open and there was a spare key. He unlocked the door, threw his knapsack on the front passenger seat, and got in behind the wheel. The parking ticket was in a cup holder in the console.

  He’d learned this trick in the early days of stealing cars. Keeping a spare key somewhere sounded like a good idea, but it was almost as dumb as going into a store for a pack of cigarettes and leaving your car running. Or parking in a bank lot and going in to use the ATM-it’ll only take a minute-and leaving the keys in the ignition.

  Best place to find the car you were looking for was to stake out a sporting event, movie theater, or airport. What he also did-and it took a little longer this way-was find a car he wanted at an upscale mall or market and follow the person home. He’d break in the next day, find the spare keys and boost the car. That way, it was nice and clean. Better than pulling the lock barrel out of the door with pliers or breaking a window. You didn’t have to worry about car alarms, either.

  Jack had worked for a guy named Torcellini, a Sicilian from Palermo who came over to Detroit when he was sixteen and still carried a switchblade in his zippered black boot. Torce, a fan of westerns, had a pencil-thin mustache and sideburns and wore a black Stetson and a duster. He thought he looked like Lee Van Cleef of spaghetti-western fame. “What do you think?” he’d say to Jack with a mean look on his face, the Stetson low over his eyes and Jack would say, “Yeah, I can see it.”

  Torce would give him a list of cars he needed, and Jack would find them and bring them in. He got $1,500 for a late-model high-end ride. Cash on the spot. Some weeks he made $9,000. Not bad for a twenty-two-year-old whose friends were trying to scrape together enough money to buy a six-pack.

  Torce had chop shops around Detroit where they could strip a car down to its frame in six hours. If it had a blue book value of $20,000, they could strip it and sell the parts for $32,000, or more.

  Or he’d boost a car, bring it to the shop, and they’d strip it clean and drop the shell on a street somewhere. The police would find it and tell the owner, who’d tell the insurance company, who’d sell it at auction to try to recoup some money. Torce’s guys would buy the shell at auction, put the stripped parts back on it and sell it as a used car. It was beautiful.

  They also shipped high-end Benzes, Bimmers, Caddies and Jags to buyers in Latin America and the Middle East. That’s how Jack met Teddy and DeJuan. They all worked for Torce, until the operation got busted-Torce and fifty-six others arrested in a raid conducted by a joint task force of the Detroit Police and the FBI.

  Jack had just stolen a Benz S600 from the Somerset Mall. He was outside Nordstrom. Watched the valet run to get a car and walked over to the curb when the Benz pulled in, an annoying guy on a cell phone, telling him to be careful, saying the car cost more than he’d make in four years.

  Jack said, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on it for you,” and he did.

  When he got to the chop shop, an old brick warehouse on St. Antoine, it was surrounded by police cars, light bars flashing. He could see the Ren Cen, now the GM building, in the distance. Teddy pulled up behind him in a black Town Car. They decided it might be a good time to leave town, figuring someone would dime them for a plea, human nature being what it was-the urge to protect one’s own ass overriding any sense of honor or loyalty.

  Jack cruised out of the parking deck in the green Lexus, hands on the varnished wood steering wheel, engine so quiet, it didn’t sound like it was running. He stopped at the booth, paid the parking fee with the fifty he’d borrowed from his sister, and drove to Kate’s.

  “Luke, I’m leaving,” he heard his mom call up the stairs. “Are you sure you have a ride to school?”

  Luke yelled, “Positive,” from the upstairs hall.

  It was 7:45. He didn’t have a class on Friday till 8:30. He stood at his bedroom window and watched her pull out of the driveway. Luke stuffed clothes in a backpack, grabbed his iPod and went downstairs to the kitchen. The keys to his dad’s Corvette weren’t in the drawer where they usually were. His mom probably hid them somewhere. He checked her desk in the den, didn’t see them. He went upstairs to her dressing room. His dad’s clothes were gone, his side of the dressing area, cleaned out. Why’d she get rid of his clothes? Was she trying to forget him?

  He found the car keys in her jewelry box. Slid them in the pocket of his jeans and went back down to the kitchen.

  He heard a car and saw a green Lexus drive up and park. He saw Jack get out and come to the door, press his face against one of the glass panes. Knocking and then opening the door and coming in. What was he doing here?

  Luke went through the dining room and circled around to the front of the house, hiding in the front hall closet, door cracked open half an inch. He heard Jack walk in from the kitchen, cowboy boots clicking on the slate floor. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. “Anybody home? Kate…?”

  Luke watched him go into the den, but couldn’t see what he was doing.

  Kate told him she had a dentist appointment at eight and knew Luke would be at school, so no one would be home. He sat behind Kate’s antique desk, staring at her checkbook. He’d seen it the night before on the house tour. He was desperate for money and decided to write a check for a thousand dollars to hold him over.

  Jack felt odd taking money from her, but then thought about Guatemala. How much did it cost him to get Kate and her friend back? Five grand-at least. She owed him. He made the check out to cash and traced Kate’s signature from a letter he found in one of the drawers. It wasn’t that difficult.

  He stared at the check and for the first time in four years, Jack was feeling good about himself. Things were falling into place. He was as close to being rich as he’d ever been.

  Leon came down the stairs now, stopped, sniffed the air and wandered over to the closet. Luke trying to get rid of him, “Leon, get out of here,” saying it under his breath. “Go on.” He pulled the door closed a
nd Leon yelped and barked.

  Jack saw the dog and called him. “Here, boy. What’re you doing over there, huh?”

  Luke cracked the door and Leon was sitting there, tail wagging, tongue hanging out, drooling, eyes fixed on Luke.

  He heard Jack’s boots on the slate floor again coming across the foyer toward them. “What’re you doing?”

  Luke could see him coming toward the closet.

  “Something in there you want?”

  Luke stepped back into the darkness, kneeling behind some boxes.

  “Boy, want a treat?” Jack said. “Does the big man want a treat?”

  He could see Jack heading for the kitchen, and Leon, to Luke’s surprise, was following him.

  Luke went through the living room to the sun porch, unlocked the door and went outside, moving along the back of the house to the kitchen. He looked in the window, saw Jack open the refrigerator, helping himself to leftover lamb chops, eating meat off the bone and throwing Leon scraps.

  Ten minutes later Jack got in his car and left, Luke wondering what was going on, this old friend of his mother’s coming in their house like that.

  Jack cashed the check at the Chase branch at Cranbrook and Maple. He didn’t have an account, but he flirted with the teller, a mousy little thing and she said she’d make an exception and he said, “Thanks, darling.” Then he drove back to Kate’s to wait for her.

  FOURTEEN

  Kate could feel a tingling in her jaw, the first indication that the Novocain was wearing off. She’d had a cavity in a back tooth filled, her dentist, Dr. Hanson, giving her two shots of Novocain, saying he had to drill pretty deep and didn’t want to take any chances.

  She drove in the garage and noticed the Corvette was gone and couldn’t believe it. Thinking about what she said to Luke and how she said it. “Don’t drive. Don’t even think about it. You’ve got a restricted license. If the police stop you, they’re going to put you in jail. And don’t go anywhere unless you ask me first.” What didn’t he understand about that? She even hid the keys. He said he was going to straighten up and stay out of trouble. He wasn’t going to use Owen’s death as an excuse anymore.