Finishing The Job

by Harley Fox

  Craig hands me my drink and I thank him. He takes a seat on the same couch as his dad.

  “Well, to be honest, as a psychologist I’m a little wary of the side effects of these drugs versus an approach that focuses mostly on therapy.”

  Will takes a sip of his whiskey and nods. “Of course, of course,” he says. “If a patient is able to get the help they need without the influence of pharmaceuticals, then that is the best course of action. And that’s what I tell most of our prospective clients. Therapy might cost more in the long run, and take a lot longer, but its results are everlasting. Pharmaceuticals—most of them, at least—may help cover up the problem but you’d be hard-pressed to find a drug that’ll cure someone of something.”

  “Right.”

  “Having said that,” he takes another sip, “there might be cases where therapy is not an option. Financial reasons. Or time constraints. Or maybe the patient doesn’t herself want to go through the hours and years of therapy necessary to rid her of her demons. And those are the cases that I’m most interested in. Some doctors over-prescribe, and some pharmaceutical companies try to wring out every last buck from their customer, but not me. I feel very strongly that PharmaChem’s products should be used for the betterment of the client, not to pad our own wallets.”

  Wow. That was not a response I was expecting from Will Silver. After everything I’ve heard about him, and the effects I’ve seen from what he’s done. Either he’s a master actor, or he legitimately is interested in helping people out.

  “Well, that is a very reassuring thing to hear,” I tell him, and he gives a satisfied nod. “I’ve looked into your products online, and Craig’s pitch definitely made it sound like a good deal.”

  Will gives another nod, but doesn’t turn to include Craig in this.

  “I take a lot of pride in the work I do here,” he tells me. I see Craig square his jaw, looking at his dad.

  Okay, Katie. “There is, though, another reason for my being here.”

  Will raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s that?”

  “I’ve been led to believe that your company specializes in a different sort of product. The kind that isn’t sold over counters by a Pharmacist.”

  He keeps his poker face on, his eyes trained on mine. The glass of whiskey and ice stays in his hand, unmoving. I keep my eyes on his, not looking away, trying to project an expression of certainty and determination. I’m Cynthia Lowe from Seattle. I want some of his street drugs. He will sell them to me.

  Finally Will takes in a breath through his nose and settles back on the leather couch. He lifts the whiskey to his lips, takes a sip, lowers it again and swallows.

  “How much are you looking for?”

  Yes! I stay in character as I pretend to consider this. “Well, it would be a trial run at first. Although there are many of us, with, how should I say, voracious appetites.” I smile and give him a wink, to which he smirks back. “Perhaps … a few pounds to start?”

  His eyebrows lift, almost an imperceptible amount. He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “A few pounds … that’s quite a sample.”

  “Well, if we make this deal, then I assure you we will become very big, and very loyal, customers. Besides, I’ve heard the quality of your product is top of the line.” Will nods again.

  “One of the benefits of everything being done in-house,” he tells me. “Complete control of the quality of both raw ingredients and finished product. Of course, this is a pharmaceutical company, so we’re always trying out new things. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with what we have to offer.”

  I nod. “I heard a rumor, the night before last, about one of your facilities burning down?”

  His smile falters, the first sign of weakness he’s shown. “An electrical fire, unfortunately. We thought we’d found the source of the problem last night, but … it got away from us.”

  “It got away from you?” My mind goes to Flynn, his body looking beaten and bruised.

  “Yes. But we’ll get it soon enough. Don’t worry.”

  “There isn’t a problem with the quality of the conditions of the facility?”

  “Of course not.” I see Will bristle a bit at this accusation. “Our facilities are top of the line.”

  “Well, perhaps not if one burned down from an electrical fire.”

  I keep my eyes trained on Will, and he’s staring back at me. Be strong. Craig’s advice from before. He doesn’t respect people who he thinks are weak.

  Finally Will nods. “I admit, sometimes even we have tweaks that need working out.”

  “Well,” I make myself look unsure, “my colleagues aren’t as interested in a product where tweaks need to be worked out. Is there something you could do to put my mind at rest?”

  He narrows his eyes.

  “If you’re looking for a sample of the product …”

  But I laugh, cutting him off. “No, that won’t be necessary. I have it on good authority that the quality of your product is fine. I’m more worried about this facility. Would it be too much to ask you to show me one, so that I get a better sense of what I’d be signing on to?”

  I see Will’s jaw work. Our eyes remain locked together.

  “You want a … tour of one of our facilities?”

  Shit. “More of a reassurance.” Stay strong, Katie. Don’t let him call your bluff.

  Will keeps looking at me. I keep my eyes on him. Beside him, Craig is watching the two of us.

  “You know, dad,” he says, and it’s like something taut in Will’s brain suddenly relaxed. He blinks, turning to regard his son, looking as though he forgot Craig was there at all. “It’s not a bad idea. Give Cynthia a better idea of what we have going on.”

  I can see the ill-concealed anger in Will’s eyes. But his voice remains steady when he talks.

  “Yes, you’re right, son,” he says. Turning back to me, “When are you available?”

  “I’m free right now,” I tell him.

  “Good. Now it is, then. Okay. Let’s go.”

  Will stands up, downing the rest of his whiskey. I stand up too, followed by Craig. My untouched glass of water goes onto the coffee table with a nervous thunk. I try to keep my emotions out of my face, but all I can think is, This is it. It worked. We’re finally going to get Will Silver. And then it’ll all be over.

  Lance

  The motorcycle vibrates uncomfortably between my legs. I’m straddling it beside Jake, the two of us parked just down a side street. PharmaChem’s parking lot and front door are visible across the street. After Jake and I turned down here we doubled back. We watched as Katie and Craig went inside. But before they did, I watched the two of them talk.

  “What are they talking about?” I asked Jake as we both stared. Katie and Craig stood motionless. Katie’s back was to us so all I could see was Craig’s mouth. He seemed to do most of the talking. My paranoid mind thought maybe he was telling her that she was caught, that it was a trap and now she was going to die. Half of me wanted to ride across the street and push him away, maybe kill him. But the other half of me—the stronger half—didn’t do that. And I’m glad I didn’t. Because a minute later they left together to go inside. Katie didn’t seem to be in any danger. She walked normally.

  That was about fifteen minutes ago.

  “How long do you think the meeting’s going to be?”

  Jake shakes his head. “I don’t know. It depends on how quickly she can cut to the chase.”

  I haven’t taken my eyes off the front door this whole time.

  “We should have put a mic on her.”

  “We didn’t think of it.”

  More silence between us. All I can do is worry and speculate. What if Katie got found out? What if she’s dead right now? What if they never got up there? Maybe Craig just shot her in the elevator or something.

  “They would come out this entrance, right?”

  Jake nods. “Their cars.”

  “What if Will suggest
s a car service?” My mind races at the possibility. “Or a limo or something?”

  “Lance, calm down,” Jake tells me. “It’ll be okay.”

  Easy for him to say. His girlfriend is safe at home. My home. Katie is stuck up in that fucking building all on her own. Christ, we should have used a mic. Then, if something goes wrong, at least we’d be aware of it. We could act accordingly. Instead of sitting here like fucking fish in a barrel.

  “Maybe we should find somewhere else to watch from.” I look around. We’re down a suburban street. There’s no traffic in either direction.

  “This spot is fine,” Jake says. “Just be patient.”

  So I sit, watching, waiting. Time seems to drag on, becoming meaningless. Has a minute passed, or an hour? It feels like it could be either.

  And then, just like that, the door to the building opens and three people walk out: Will Silver, Katie, and Craig.

  I sit more upright on my bike, Jake doing the same on his. I feel immediately more alert. My heart starts beating faster, my muscles are tensed.

  This is it. She’ll say she has to make a phone call … good. Step off to the side … good, good.

  I watch from afar as Katie fiddles with her phone and holds it up to her ear. I dig mine out of my pocket and a moment later it rings. I give it a second and then answer the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Eddie.” Katie’s voice. It feels so good to hear it. “It’s Cynthia.”

  “Hey Cynthia,” I respond. We agreed that both of us would be in character during the call, in case Will overheard my voice. “How’d the meeting go?”

  As Katie and I speak, I see Will having a conversation with Craig, but they’re far from Katie so I can’t hear them.

  “Good. I’m still in it, actually. I just wanted to say I’m going to be a bit longer than we anticipated. Will’s going to show me one of his facilities.”

  “Oh? Whereabouts?”

  “It’s down at Redding and Carver, kind of in the south of the city. I think maybe a twenty minute drive?”

  Redding and Carver. I know exactly where that is.

  “Okay, good. Well, thanks for calling. Let me know when—”

  But then I hear a raised voice, both through Katie’s phone and from across the street, despite the roar of traffic separating us. I see Katie spin around to see Will and Craig having a heated discussion now.

  “Um …” Katie’s voice.

  I lower my voice. “Go over. Stay on the phone.”

  I see her switch the phone to her other ear as she takes tentative steps towards the arguing figures of Will and Craig Silver. As Katie approaches them I’m able to pick up their conversation more clearly.

  “… do you mean, can’t trust me anymore?”

  “Craig, please. Keep your temper down around the new client.”

  The figure of Craig turns, sees Katie, turns back to face his dad.

  “Tell me what you mean,” Craig says.

  “I mean just what I said.” Will’s voice sounds calm, level. “You can’t be trusted, Craig. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still pulling in clients, trying to act like it’s old times.”

  “Dad, what are you talking about? Why can’t you trust me?”

  “Because you’re untrustworthy, Craig! I know! I know where you’ve been. I know what you’ve been doing. And what you haven’t been doing.”

  My stomach drops. Jake is looking from me to the scene across the road.

  “What’s going on?” he asks in a harsh whisper, but I don’t say anything. He leans towards me, trying to hear.

  “You … know where I’ve been?”

  “It’s called a GPS device, son o’ mine! I had one installed in your phone, oh … for a few weeks now. When we were getting things underway with the police.”

  “You … you’ve been following where I’ve been going?”

  “You can never be too sure. And for a while I was happy. And then … on Monday … you disappointed me, Craig.” I see the figure of Will shake his head, start to walk around. Craig and Katie stay where they are. “I asked you to do a job. A simple job. You said you didn’t want to do it. Fine. So I told you to get some other guys to do it instead. You said fine. And then, what did you do?” He stops walking. “You went to Jake Hawksley’s house. You did not do what I ordered you to do. You deliberately went behind my back and disobeyed me!”

  A pause, and then Craig’s voice, yelling. “You wanted me to kill my own son, dad! Do you know how fucked up that is!”

  “And then,” Will goes on, as though he hadn’t heard, “I watched you. For two days, I watched you. Jake Hawksley. Jake Hawksley again. I checked in with my guys—oh yes, I sent guys to do the job you were too chicken shit to do—and they said they were attacked from behind. Your doing, I suppose. So, where was my little boy off to today? Why was he trying to get into my good graces by bringing in a new client?”

  My heart is pounding as I listen to this. I can hear Katie’s breath on the other line.

  “This morning, I watched as you went to a place you’ve never been to before. Holloway and Arbor. A shit part of the city, definitely not your usual haunt. Now what could be there that’s so interesting? Might you be harboring a woman and her child? Hmm, I wonder …”

  Nobody speaks for a long moment. And then I hear Craig’s voice.

  “Dad. It’s not what I looks like—”

  “Shut it!” The figure of Will reaches into his jacket and pulls something out. I don’t need to be able to see it clearly to know what it is.

  “Dad!”

  “No!” Katie screams.

  BANG!

  The noise explodes in my ear, simultaneously cracking through the air from across the street. The figure of Craig folds in half as he drops to his knees. Jake swears. Katie screams, jumping back. Will steps towards his son, points the gun down at him.

  BANG! BANG!

  Two shots, two noises cracking the air in half. Craig’s body collapses to the ground. He doesn’t move. I see Will raise his head to the woman standing across from him. He lifts the gun.

  “No!” I shout, and at the same time Katie’s hands fly up. The phone slips from her fingers and falls to the ground. A horrible crack fills my ear, followed by static, coming in intermittent, still broadcasting Katie’s call.

  “No—xrckz—” I hear Katie’s static-y voice. “xrxckz—lease, don’t—xckrzx—”

  It’s like my heart’s stopped beating altogether. I could ride there. I’d never make it in time. And then Will’s voice, sounding far away.

  “zcrxcz—ad business—zkxrcrz—oot a client.”

  And then I see him stow the gun back in his jacket. He turns and strides for one of the cars in the parking lot, taking out his keys, climbing in the front seat. Katie reaches down and picks up the phone.

  “zkrckz—ance? Are you th—xkckrz”

  “Katie?” I shout into the phone. “Are you okay?”

  The roar of an engine starting, obvious even through the static.

  “zkcrz—our apartment, La—zkrcxz—xkrcrz—nd Nathan Willo—zrckrcz”

  Holy shit. He’s going after Jeannette and Nathan.

  From across the street I see Will back his car out of the spot, turning around quickly. The figure of Katie jumps aside as he peels out of the lot.

  “Katie! We’ve got to go stop him!”

  “zcrcxz—o, Lance! Go!—zkxcrxz”

  I pull the phone from my ear and try stuffing it in my jacket pocket without bothering to end the call. But it misses and falls to the ground, shattering the screen and causing the battery to pop out.

  “Fuck!” I yell. Pick it up? I’m shaking, like I drank too much coffee. Will’s car speeds out of sight.

  “What’s going on?” Jake asks, panic in his voice. Or am I just hearing it that way? “What happened?”

  “Fucking, Will’s going to my apartment! We’ve got to stop him! He’ll kill the kid!”

  Leaving my phone, I rev the engine o
f my bike while Jake peels ahead without me.

  Fuck! Fucking bikes!

  The bike lurches forward and I follow him, crossing the street, turning precariously in the direction of my apartment. Up ahead I see the wobbling back of Will Silver’s car.

  I speed up and match with Jake.

  “Jake!” I can hardly hear my own voice over the rush of wind in my ears. But he turns his head. “Call Merryn! Tell her Will’s coming!”

  Jake nods, fishes his phone out of his pocket while continuing to ride. I try inching myself away to give him more space and end up wobbling to the side, almost wiping out. Jake’s eyes grow wide when he watches me nearly kill myself, but I manage to recover.

  Fucking bikes!

  Jake gets the call going and holds the phone up to his ear. We dodge in between cars, roaring past them. How Will is able to keep his distance ahead of us, I’ll never know. Jake yells into the phone. I can’t hear what he says. The red brake lights of the car ahead of me suddenly flash and I gasp in rushing air as I brake and turn at the same time, nearly skidding into the thing.

  Jake flies past me, leaving me, as I swing around the car and try not to think about how close to death I just was. I speed up again, flying down the street, passing car after car, trying to catch up. I see him ahead of me. He puts the phone back away. Farther ahead Will keeps driving. Wind fills my ears with the sound of a thousand hurricanes. I’m certain I’ll be deaf after this. I should have worn a helmet. I hope Katie’s all right.

  Will’s car takes the left turn. Jake cuts across the opposing lane, expertly navigating between oncoming cars to follow him. I wait for the cars to pass before taking the turn myself. But we’re on a clearer street. Will turns again, heading back north. Jake follows him, and I follow Jake. Trista’s bike has some oomph to it, though, because I’m slowly catching up to him. Soon enough I’m neck and neck with Jake. He looks over at me. I look at him. Neither of us say anything.

  There’s my apartment. Fuck fuck fuck. Will’s going to reach it first. He’s speeding fast, approaching the intersection at a dangerous pace. The light turns yellow. My heart drops. I hear the first horns start to blare, and Will doesn’t slow down. The light turns red. He keeps flying as he careens through the intersection, nearly crashing into the drivers who unfortunately were not paying attention. Horns blare loud. Cars screech to a stop. Jake and I keep riding, following in Will’s wake, making our way through the intersection.