Mullet said, “Jack, you tell your girl what we talked about, what we decided?”
Kate said, “No, Jack, I don’t believe you did.” She thought Jack would take charge of the situation, but he stood there looking like he wasn’t sure what to do or who he was siding with.
Jack said to Kate, “There’s only one way out of this, you’ve got to give me your gun.”
Jack stepped toward her and she raised the Beretta and aimed it at him.
He put his hands up and said, “Take it easy.”
The black guy said, “Yo, Jack, where the money at?”
“I don’t know,” Jack said. “She hid it somewhere.”
The black guy said, “He got one job to do, can’t even do that.”
Mullet said to Jack, “You better tell her what to do, or I will.” Mullet grinned at Kate, the grin mocking her-and in a flashback she saw the face of the skinny cop in Guatemala-looking at her the same way, underestimating her.
Kate held the Beretta at arm’s length down her right side. She’d shoot the black guy with the twelve-gauge first. Then go for the girl. She’d never get Mullet, though, with Luke standing in front of him. She said, “Let him go.”
“We let him go, you put the gun down,” the black guy said. “We cool? You give us something, we give you something-everybody happy.”
“What’re you asking her for?” the girl said. “You tell her.”
“Back nuba, simba,” the black guy said. “We negotiating.”
“Why don’t I just shoot her,” the girl said, “put an end to all this?” She extended her arm, aiming her gun at Kate.
“You hear this thug gangsta bitch?” he said to Mullet.
“You got the twelve-gauge,” the girl said, “you do it, then. Why we putting up with this?”
The black guy said, “Everybody be cool. We gonna make the transaction. Ain’t nobody gonna shoot nobody. We like family now.”
Kate said, “If you shoot me, how you going to find the money?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” the black guy said to Kate. “Let’s quit flambosting, chill this motherfucker. Give peace a chance.”
Mullet pressed the barrel of his gun, a big chrome-plated automatic, against Luke’s temple. He looked at Kate and said, “You got ten seconds-one… two…”
“Don’t worry,” the black guy said, “doubt he can count that high.”
“Mom,” Luke said, “just do what they want, will you?”
Mullet stopped counting.
Everyone turned and looked at him.
Kate dropped the Beretta.
The girl said, “Kick that little weenie gun over here.”
“Little man like Talleyrand,” the black guy said.
“What you talking about?” Mullet said, “Running your mouth, you never stop.”
“Talleyrand, Charles Maurice, motherfucker-French diplomat, homie a Napoleon.”
Teddy said, “Who?”
The black guy shook his head. “Man doesn’t know who Napoleon is.”
Kate knew, of all of them, he was the one to keep an eye on. Don’t be fooled by the street rap, the hip-hop cool, the fractured syntax-he was the smartest one by far, including Jack, who, instead of taking charge, waited to be told what to do like he was the hired help. What happened to him?
Mullet unlocked the handcuffs now and Luke ran to her and put his arms around her and held on tight and she could feel him tremble in her embrace.
The black guy grinned at her and said, “Now we making progress. Got the little man back, take me to the mon-ey.”
When Bill Wink heard the eyewitness account, he couldn’t help but think it was Kate. Joe Lamborne said she looked rich and then described her in perfect detail: a real knockout, five seven, a hundred and fifteen, blond hair, nice rack, looked about thirty-five.
If it wasn’t Kate McCall, she had a twin. The car she was driving sounded familiar too. Wasn’t her friend cruising around in a green Lexus? Sure, the one with the busted taillight. Bill remembered it parked in front of the market in Omena.
He didn’t say anything to Joe, who’d been suspended without pay, pending an investigation-or to his sergeant. The way he viewed it, Kate was in trouble and this was the perfect opportunity to help her and be a hero.
Of course, his first question was, why was she driving a stolen car? Bill’s mind wrestled with that one until he got a call from Johnny Crow, Johnny saying he saw the rich lady-you know, the one from the woods-she was picking up money, a lot of money, from the bank in Traverse.
Bill called the bank manager, Mr. Ken Calvert, who’d said Mrs. McCall had withdrawn a substantial amount of cash but bank-customer confidentiality prevented him from giving Bill any more information-even in his law enforcement capacity. Although Calvert said he could tell the deputy that he understood it was being used to consummate a real estate deal.
As far as Bill was concerned, it all pointed back to the kidnapping theory. He believed Luke was being held hostage somewhere, and Kate, he believed, was in trouble-needed his help, but was too afraid to contact him. He was pumped thinking about it, standing in front of the mirror in his bathroom getting dressed, looking at himself, his face with the confident grin. He was wearing his uniform pants and a white T-shirt. He turned sideways and flexed his right arm, the biceps rolling up, making a muscle. He looked strong. He was strong. He could bench-press 325 pounds. Do it five times.
He slipped on a Point Blank Pro Plus vest. It was their top-of-the-line body armor, designed to stop a. 357 Magnum 158-grain round, a 240-grain. 44 Magnum, and even a 148-grain. 762 Nato round fired by an M16. Only thing it couldn’t handle was a 30.06. If one of the kidnappers had a big bore rifle he was out of luck, but he seriously doubted that would be the case.
He put his uniform shirt on over the vest, buttoned it and tucked it in his pants. He strapped his black leather Safariland duty belt around his waist. Fully loaded it weighed fourteen pounds and had everything he needed: his ASP tactical baton, two sets of handcuffs, two extra magazines for his Glock, flashlight, key keeper and pepper spay. The pepper spray had an aerosol projector for long-range deployments, which meant he could blind a perp from fifteen feet or more. He unhooked his holster and drew his Glock 21, pointed it at the mirror image of himself.
He’d cleaned the gun the night before, dipped a patch in solvent and passed a jag through the bore to loosen the fouling. The barrel was still dirty, so he did it again. Then he’d dipped a phosphor brush in solvent and scrubbed the forcing cones, ejectors and slides where a lot of powder residue had built up, working it until everything was nice and clean. He’d popped in the magazine, pulled back the slide and loaded a hollow point in the throat.
He looked at himself in the mirror again, nodded his approval and walked out of his trailer where the mud-splattered cruiser was parked. He made a mental note to get it washed. He was a Leelanau County sheriff ’s deputy, and as such, he had to portray a positive image.
He opened the trunk, took out his Hi-Standard Flite King twelve-gauge and loaded it with five Hevi-Shot Nitro Magnum shells. He closed the trunk, got in the car, put the shotgun on the floor-barrel pointing down. He forgot his hat and went inside to get it.
His stomach was nervous when he got back in the car. The full import of what he was about to do weighing on him now. Should he call for backup? He couldn’t say with absolute certainty that something was actually going to happen. It was all a hunch and if he was wrong, he’d look like a fool. But if he was right, then what?
TWENTY — FIVE
Teddy said, “I never seen so much money in one place in all my days. I’m going to buy me a Ford F250 4? 4 with the extended cab and a set of twenty-inch rims. That is one sweet truck.”
He reminded Kate of a kid on Christmas.
Celeste knelt across from Teddy. She put her pistol on the rug, picking up crisp, just-off-the-press packets of money. The white bands that went around the bills had “$10,000” stamped on them.
“What’re you going to get yourself?” Teddy said.
“Anything I please,” Celeste said.
“That’s the way,” Teddy said. He was eating potato chips out of the bag, drinking a can of Bud. He said, “Hey, know what the best beer in the world is?”
Celeste didn’t acknowledge him, her attention fixed on the money.
“Free beer,” Teddy said.
“What if you don’t like it-it isn’t your brand?” Celeste said.
“Who cares?” Teddy said. “If it’s free, it’s good.”
Kate watched them from the breakfast room while she set the table. Like the two million in front of you, she was thinking. She didn’t care about the money, just wanted them to leave.
Teddy was on his knees on the floor, picking up handfuls of it. He glanced at Kate and said, “Well, I sure am grateful to you for this. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. Now, where’s my supper at?”
“It’s cooking,” Kate said.
“Well, hurry it up,” Teddy said. “I’m so hungry, I could eat the ass out of a wild boar.”
Celeste got up and sat on one of the leather couches, feeding Leon a pretzel. She said, “Does him yike that? Does him tink it’s nummy? Does him?”
She sat on the edge of a cushion now, patted her thighs, looked at Leon, and said, “Uppy. Come on, uppy.”
Leon looked at her like she was crazy and then thought what the hell and lifted his front paws up. She grabbed them and said, “Thay, thay, thay…”
Then Celeste let go of Leon’s paws and slid off the couch on her knees, hugging the dog who went down and rolled over on his back, pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Celeste scratched his chest and rubbed his neck. “Him’s tha big man, yeth him ith, yeth him ith.”
Leon rolled over and got back on his feet and Celeste gave him another pretzel. She said, “Him’s a cooter, ithn’t him?” She took his head in her hands and rubbed it. “Yeth him ith. Yeth him ith.”
Teddy took a swig of beer and said, “Why’re you talking in that stupid fucking voice? God, that’s annoying.”
Celeste said, “You’re annoying. You don’t like it, don’t listen.”
Jack was on the other side of the room by himself, sitting in a leather chair, cuffed to a belly chain. He looked helpless. Kate met his gaze, thinking, you brought this on yourself, don’t look at me for sympathy.
She went back in the kitchen and flipped the burgers that were sizzling, grease popping in a fourteen-inch skillet. She’d made six patties from a two-pound mixture of round and chuck. Teddy’d said he was hungry and told her to get her ass in the kitchen and make them supper. Her real motivation was to feed Luke, who said he hadn’t eaten much in three days.
Kate heated up a couple cans of Bush’s beans and made potato salad with red skins and celery and red onion mixed with oil and mayo. She was thinking about the scene in the yard as she watched the meat fry-the situation tense till Luke diffused it: Mom, just do what they want, will you?
After they released Luke she led them to the pump house, a log structure that looked like a mini version of the lodge and had a well inside. The pump house was in plain sight, nestled between the yard and the woods. She opened the door and there was the money stacked on the floor. She’d parked in the woods and unloaded it.
DeJuan said to Jack, “What’s the matter with you? Money right here, Jack still looking for clues.”
Jack said, “You got it, don’t you? What’s the problem?”
They’d turned on him after that, like it was their plan all along. DeJuan brought the chain from his car and cuffed Jack on the spot.
DeJuan said, “Check it out-Hiatt-Thompson belly chain, answer to all your security needs. Meets US National Institute of Justice tests for workmanship, strength and tamper resistance.”
He glanced at Teddy and said, “Best of all, it’s made right here in the good ole US of A.”
Kate was thinking a belly chain could’ve come in handy with the neighborhood men who’d hit on her-lock them down and send them home to their wives.
Jack said, “What is this?”
DeJuan said, “This payback, motherfucker.” He pulled on the chain. “How that feel? Feel like you back in the joint, I can see it.”
Teddy said, “We’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“Jack,” DeJuan said, “he not loyal to no one but his self.”
Kate could relate.
She heard DeJuan’s voice now, turned and saw him come in the room, still carrying the shotgun. Teddy was on the floor hoisting handfuls of money like a pauper idiot.
“Yo, be cool,” DeJuan said. “Don’t be bruising the greens.”
Teddy said, “Huh?”
DeJuan said, “Give a brother some love.”
He threw a banded packet and DeJuan caught it with his right hand. He brought the stack of bills up to his nose, inhaling like it was something he’d just taken off the barbecue.
“Nothing like the smell of fresh green,” DeJuan said.
Luke was in bad shape-face beat up, wrists bleeding from the handcuffs. Kate rubbed Neosporin on the cuts and gave him Motrin for the pain. His clothes were mud-covered. He was standing at the kitchen counter stuffing food in his mouth: cheese and crackers, hunter’s sausage, slices of bread and butter. She’d never seen him so hungry. She held his little face in her hands and said, “What’d they do to you?”
“Teddy likes to hit people.”
Kate could feel herself getting angry. “Well, he’s not going to hit you anymore.”
“It’s my fault,” Luke said. “I shouldn’t have come up here.”
“They were going to do it anyway.”
“I thought Jack was your friend.”
“I did too,” Kate said.
Luke had tears in his eyes and she hugged him and said, “It’s going to be okay now.”
“No, it isn’t,” he said.
“They’ll be gone soon and we’ll go home,” Kate said.
He glanced down at the floor and back up, meeting her gaze. He looked like he was about to say something, but hesitated.
Kate said, “What?”
“I heard them talking,” Luke said. “We know what they look like. They said they’re going to… kill us.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Kate said. “They got what they wanted. There’d be no reason to.” Then she thought about the killers in In Cold Blood. They didn’t have a reason, either.
“No reason to do what?” DeJuan said, coming in the kitchen.
“You want something?” Kate said, her voice tense.
“Checking up on northern Michigan cooks. There a meal somewhere in our future?”
Kate said, “We’re all set. Everybody sit down.”
“Well halle-fucking-lujah,” DeJuan said.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what Luke said. There was no way, she told herself. They were going to eat and leave. Jack would never have agreed to that. But, as she analyzed the situation, Jack didn’t appear to have much sway at the moment. Kate brought the burgers to the table on a platter with slices of red onion and tomatoes and dill pickles. She went back in the kitchen and got the bowls of potato salad and beans and put them on the table next to the burgers. She said to Teddy, “Okay, here you go.”
Teddy and DeJuan and Celeste sat down and filled their plates and ate like it was the last supper. Kate thought it was odd that these people who’d just collected two million dollars were so concerned about their stomachs.
DeJuan held his burger in his hands and said, “You and the little man sit down, join us,”
“I’m not hungry,” Kate said.
“Don’t matter,” DeJuan said. “Want your company.”
She knew their names now: Teddy, Celeste and DeJuan-Teddy had introduced everyone earlier like they were neighbors getting together for the first time. Luke sat on the end next to DeJuan, with his back to the room. Kate sat next to Celeste, across from Teddy, who was shoveling potato sala
d in his mouth and had grease from the burger dripping off the end of his chin.
“What about Jack?” Kate said.
“What about him?” Teddy said.
Kate said, “Can I give him something to eat?” She wanted a chance to talk to him, find out what he thought, what he knew.
“Hell no,” Teddy said. “He gets to set there, smell it and get hungry.”
Kate could feel her patience wearing thin.
Teddy had mayo in the corners of his mouth, talking while he chewed his potato salad. “I was thinking I might get me a Harley-”
Celeste said, “Think you could stop talking with your mouth open, use your napkin? You got the manners of an animal, I swear.”
DeJuan said, “Man spent his formative years hanging with sheep. What you expect?”
Kate felt the tension building. She couldn’t hold it in any longer and said, “You’ve got your money. Why don’t you take it and get the hell out of here?”
“Whoa,” Teddy said, and grinned. “What the hell’s got into you?” He winked at Celeste and she smiled. “I don’t think she likes us.”
“I don’t think about you one way or the other,” Kate said. She made eye contact with Luke, could see he was worried.
“Oh, you don’t, huh?” Teddy said. “What’s the matter? We not good enough for you?”
“She wants us to leave,” Celeste said. “Then what’s she going to do, call the police?” Celeste looked across the table at her. “You going to tell them what we look like?”
“ ’Course she is,” Teddy said. “She’s going to tell them everything about us.”
Celeste said, “My-oh-my, what should we do with ’em?”
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