The Amateurs

by Marcus Sakey

  “I’m fine.” She shook off Mitch’s hand and started walking. Two teenagers were helping the homeless guy to his feet. The crowd turned as one to stare them out.

  “Listen, that was—”

  “What’s happening to you? You’re not the same.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s like you’ve become someone else. I know this has all been crazy, but—”

  “Jenn, fuck that, OK? I’m the only one doing what needs to be done. And if you go to the police, I go to jail. It’s just that simple.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yeah, I do. And so do you.”

  “So we won’t tell them the whole story. We can lie, tell them that we found the bottles.”

  “What, we stumbled on them in the alley? Don’t be stupid.”

  She stopped, whirled to face him. Her feet were planted shoulder width, and her eyes flashed. “Don’t you ever. Just because we fucked doesn’t mean you get to do that.”

  He raised his hands. “I’m sorry.”

  She stared for another moment, then turned and started walking fast. He was taller than she was, but had to hustle to keep up. “Look, I understand. You’re scared.”

  “Of course I’m scared. So are you. The difference is that I’ll admit it.”

  “Jenn, please, listen to me, would you?” They reached the north end of Millennial Park, and she started across Randolph without looking. Horns shrieked and brakes squealed as she strode through traffic, parting it like the Red Sea. Even now, as everything fell apart, it was a thrill to watch her. “Would you listen?”

  “I’m going home, Mitch.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.”

  “Fine, but would you just listen for a second?”

  She stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What?”

  “You’re right. I’m scared too, OK?” He held his hands out in front of him, fingers almost touching, like he was squeezing an invisible ball. “I have been since we started this.” It was only as he spoke that he realized it was true. What was he doing? What had he done?

  Push. It. Down.

  He made himself speak gently. “We have to be realistic. We can’t go to the cops. If we do, maybe, maybe you and the others will be OK. But I won’t. You know that.”

  Something flickered across her face like a cloud shadow. She turned to look at the half-finished high-rise to the west, her eyes tracing the girders. “You did it for me, didn’t you? Not . . . what happened in the alley. Before that. You agreed to rob Johnny because I was.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you did.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I told myself that I wasn’t manipulating you, but I knew how you felt, and I took advantage. Because I wanted to do this. I wanted an adventure.”

  “I—” He felt he should say something but didn’t know what.

  “I was wrong to do that. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Maybe you’re right, maybe I did do it for you. But you know what?” He shrugged. “That’s as good a reason as any I can think of.”

  “But now everything is bad.”

  “We have to keep it together. Just a little longer.”

  “You’re wrong.” Her smile a broken flower. She threaded her arm through his. “I think things are going to get a lot worse.”

  VICTOR STARED out the limo window at Jenn and Mitch walking arm in arm. Beside him, Bennett said, “You think she’s playing straight?”

  “She is straight. All of them are. They’re in over their collective heads, and I’m tossing them a line.”

  “What about the cops? If they turn over the stuff, they’d have some heavy negotiating power.”

  “They aren’t thinking that way. They’re civilians. Their idea of prison is Oz.”

  “So you’re trusting in their fear of anal invasion to keep them in line?”

  “If they knew what they had, maybe it would be different.” Victor shrugged. “Or maybe not. You know how little it can take to convince people to do the wrong thing. The money is a big temptation.”

  “About that. You’re letting them keep it?”

  “Our deal stands. I’ll still stake you the two hundred fifty thousand.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m being careful. That money is two hundred and fifty thousand reasons not to go to the police.”

  “Why not just take them somewhere, lock them down?”

  “Too risky. Who knows if someone is expecting them, will report them missing? This is safer. They don’t know what they have, and they don’t know anything about us. So we watch, and we wait.” Victor leaned forward, tapped the mic. “Let’s go, Andrews.” The car began to move almost immediately. “You’ll watch her.”

  “I don’t work for you, remember? No orders.”

  Victor sighed. “If anything happens, it will go through her. She’s the one who set up the safe deposit. No one will be able access it without her, that’s why I didn’t insist on the key. I’ve got plenty of men, but you’re better than they are. So pretty please, in the interest of our partnership, will you keep an eye on her?”

  “Fair enough.” Bennett paused, rubbed at his chin. “You’re right. If they do make a play, they won’t leave her dangling. Three men, one woman, they’re going to protect her.”

  “They’re going to try.”

  CHAPTER 27

  THEY HAD SPENT ANOTHER HOUR wandering the city before Jenn told Mitch she was going home. He’d said he would come with her, and she had been forced to say no. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about him, or that her apology had been less than sincere. But everything was moving too fast. Maybe, maybe, they had a chance to make something happen. Of the original foursome, he was certainly the only one she still trusted. But they’d only slept together a couple of times, and he seemed ready to propose, and she just couldn’t take it.

  “You’ll be OK?”

  “I’ll be fine. I just need a little space.”

  “Space from me?”

  “Space from everybody.” She had taken his hand. “What you said before—”

  “I know, it was too fast—”

  “It was sweet. And I like you, too, Mitch. But I need some time to think. Let’s just get through all of this and let things settle down, OK?”

  “Yeah,” he’d said. “Sure.”

  “And once it has, why don’t you give me a call. Ask me out on an actual date.”

  His face lit up like Christmas. “Yeah?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Me too.” He laughed. “We’ll do it right. Go somewhere nice. On Johnny.”

  That had made her laugh too, and as she’d gotten in a cab and closed the door behind her, she’d felt a quick pang of regret to leave him standing on the sidewalk, hands tucked in his pockets.

  But it had also felt great to step into her apartment alone. To dodge out of the weight and meaning of everything. Habit, maybe, and one that she was looking to break. It was time to quit playing games, pretending that nothing meant anything. But it wasn’t going to happen all at once. Right now, all she wanted was to put life on hold. To forget about the dissolution of her friendships, the transformation of her world, the monsters tracking them. To have a vodka and read a silly magazine and forget everything. Maybe it was weak, maybe it was regressive, but she deserved it.

  So the knock on the door had been anything but a happy surprise. She strode across the hardwood fast, reached for the door. “Damn it, I said I need a little space—”

  Alex stood in the hallway.

  “Oh.” She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling trapped and a little silly. “You.”

  “Listen, I can’t stay. Cassie’s got a soccer game, I promised I’d be there. But I wanted to—I couldn’t say it in front of the others. First Victor, then Mitch, they got me so riled up.” He let out a breath. “It doesn’t matter. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “OK.”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “I really pis
sed you off, didn’t I?”

  “You bailed on us.”

  “That’s not what I’m apologizing for.”

  “No?”

  “I had to do that. I have my daughter to think of.”

  “We all have people to think of.”

  “I know. But you don’t know what it’s like to have a child. It . . . it takes over everything. When I heard Victor threaten her, I could have . . . Jesus. If it wasn’t for his guards, I might have put his face through that table.”

  There was something in the way he held himself, the tension in his shoulders, that touched her. In the genes, she supposed—hard not to be attracted to a man who would do anything for his family. “I’m glad you didn’t try.”

  “I know.” He paused. “I’m going to lose her, Jenn.”

  “Mitch thinks that if we give the stuff to Victor—”

  “I don’t mean that. They’re taking her away. To Arizona.” He looked down, rubbed at the back of his neck. “I brought Trish the money. I know, I shouldn’t have, just like Ian shouldn’t have paid his bookie, but I had to. And they had this lawyer there, this slick as shit corporate killer, and he—”

  “Unbelievable.” She shook her head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

  “Huh?”

  “First, you come down on Ian for doing the same thing you did.”

  “That was different—”

  “But beyond that, it’s always the same for you, isn’t it? You never look at the things you don’t want to. You convince yourself of something and screen out the rest of the world. Of course you can’t just waltz in, give her some money, and make everything OK. Did you really believe that was going to work? For a bright guy, you sure miss the obvious. You did it with your marriage, your job, the child support, even—” She stopped herself.

  “Even you,” he said. “That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? Well, maybe you’re right. That’s why I’m here. To apologize.”

  She waited, gave him nothing.

  “I’ve been stupid in so many ways. Everything you said, and more.” His gaze was level, challenging. “The other night, when I came over . . . it was . . . I’d just come from Trish’s—well, from a bar—and I was hurting, and I needed someone to help me, to make it better. And the only person I could think of was you.”

  Jenn stared at him, the hard line of his jaw, the muscles his shirt didn’t conceal, the haunted look in his eyes. There had been a time when hearing that would have made her happy. They’d told each other that they were just passing time and taking pleasure. But though she’d been willing to go along, it wasn’t the way she was wired. The way women were wired. Not really. No matter the promises, the words spoken, the secrets, she couldn’t sleep with someone for a year and not care about him. Not wonder about a future. Once upon a time, hearing him say that would have made her very happy indeed.

  Now, though, it just annoyed her. “I don’t really know what to do with that.”

  “I know.” He shifted. “I know.”

  “Mitch and I . . .”

  “I’m not trying to get in the middle of that.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “How are things with the two of you?”

  “I like him. It’s nice to have someone want you, want to be with you, want to let everyone know it.” She saw Alex wince, but didn’t feel like making it easier on him. “And he’s smart, and strong. Stronger than any of us thought.”

  “But?”

  “Why do you think there’s a ‘but’?”

  “Isn’t there?”

  “It’s just, it’s all so fast. He thinks it’s true love, that this is a musical and all the excitement is part of the fun.”

  “And you don’t.”

  “I don’t know. Everything is complicated.” She sighed. “You know how I told Victor that the stuff was in the bank? I lied.”

  “What? But the key—”

  “I got a safe-deposit box, but it was for the money. The bottles are still in the drug dealer’s car. I lied to buy some time so we could go to the police. But Mitch said that if we do, he’ll go to jail.”

  “He’s right. He killed someone. He would go to jail. He should go to jail.” Alex paused, then something came into his eyes. “But you can’t live with that. Because he did it for you.”

  “It wasn’t that simple, like he—”

  “Come on.” Alex shrugged. “You know the truth. He did it for you. All of it.”

  “Screw you.”

  “You know I’m right.” His voice, in its calm certainty, was too much.

  “You know what? I don’t think I know a thing when it comes to you.” The anger came quick and hot. “You spend a year alternately sleeping with me and telling me that what we’re doing doesn’t matter. Then the moment someone else is willing to step up, suddenly I’m all you can think of.”

  “How’s this for stepping up?” He moved toward her, put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him, his lips pressing hers, his body hard against her, muscular and sure. It felt at once familiar and exhilarating, that old heat rising between them—

  She turned her head away. “No.”

  “Jenn—”

  “I said no.” She pushed him, and he stepped back, looking wounded.

  He said, “You lied to me too, you know. And I told you, my daughter—”

  “Yeah. You told me.” She snorted, the anger making her hands shake. It felt good, better than being scared and confused. “Fine. Thanks for telling me.”

  “I didn’t come here to fight.”

  “No. You came to apologize.” She stepped back, put her hand on the door. “Well, mission accomplished.”

  “Jenn, wait.”

  “Go watch your daughter play soccer.” She closed the door.

  EVERYTHING HAD TURNED TO SHIT.

  Alex stood outside her door for a long moment, wondering if he should knock again, wondering if she would open it if he did. Finally, he slunk down the stairs, got in his car, and started counting the things he didn’t have.

  No job. No family. No friends. No girlfriend. And all of it, every problem, every pain, was his fault. He’d methodically decon structed his own life.

  Jenn was right. He did only look one step ahead, did ignore the things that didn’t work for what he wanted. And that had cost him everything.

  Worse still, he’d put the lives of others in danger. That sick fuck Victor was out there somewhere, right now, planning ways to hurt his child. He cocked his fist back and punched the steering wheel. Dammit. He’d brought the boogeyman into his own daughter’s world. The reasons didn’t matter. All that mattered was that now Cassie was in danger. If something happened to her . . .

  Cassie. He glanced at the clock. He’d be late, but there was still time to make her soccer game. He fired up the car and headed for the highway.

  What now? Go cheer on the sidelines with the other divorced dads and hope everything worked out? That Trish and her new hubby could protect his daughter if a psycho came calling?

  What if Jenn and Mitch blew it on Monday? What if they decided to go to the police? What if they didn’t, but Victor thought they had?

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He jammed on the gas and blew by a CTA bus pulling to the corner.

  Everything was so tenuous. Cassie should be safe if Mitch didn’t screw anything up. If Victor didn’t decide they were playing him, or that he needed some extra insurance. Hell, Alex had been so distracted in her hallway, trying to talk sense to Jenn, it hadn’t hit him until just now what a risk they were running. Lying to a guy who had managed to find them effortlessly, a guy who had Johnny Love terrified, that was beyond dumb. It was reckless. Mitch and Jenn were throwing dice with his life. A horn blared as he passed a sedan on the right.

  He remembered the conversation at brunch the other day, Ian explaining another one of his games. What had it been called? Prisoner’s something. How the point of the exercise wasn’t trust. How in the logic of game theory, abstracts l
ike trust and love and goodness didn’t come into play. In a world where everything had consequences, where it was always a choice between the lesser of two evils, the best strategy was to betray before you were betrayed.

  That was a lesson Mitch and Jenn, the happy couple, sure seemed to have learned.

  The helplessness was the worst. Back when it had just been the four of them in danger, he was OK with the risk. But this? His daughter?

  He had to protect her. He had to make sure that no matter what happened, she was safe.

  That she was somewhere no one could get to her.

  AFTER FLUSHING THE COKE AND MAKING A PLAN, all Ian wanted was to get moving, to make something happen. But while Davis was more than happy to hear from him—damn near ecstatic, actually—he’d explained that it was his little girl’s birthday, and that they were having a party. “She’s turning six. Twenty friends, a clown, the works.”

  “Jesus. What happened to a cake from the store and those candles that relight when you blow them out?”

  “Tell me about it. My wife, you know. It’s what they do these days. Anyway, what’s up?”

  “You remember Hudson-Pollum Biolabs, right?”

  “Remember it? You kidding? It’s financing the party. And Janie’s college education.” A pause. “Why? You have something else like that, something hot?” The hunger in his voice was unmistakable.

  “Maybe. Can we get together?”

  “How about lunch on Monday? My treat.”

  “Can’t wait till then.”

  “Something I can help you with over the phone?”

  “No.” It was one thing to buy drinks, ease him into it. Another to chat while Davis stood in his family room. Ian had to sell the guy. “Listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s something I don’t want to talk about over the phone.”

  “Why, is it . . . umm . . .”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s just, I need to be careful. It’s complicated. . . .” He let his voice trail off, imagining Davis leaning forward. The guy might be a brilliant scientist, but a poker player he was not. “There are confidentiality issues, regulations.”