Adrenaline

by Bill Eidson

  Lisa willed herself to look away from the gun.

  The whole time she had been talking, she had been conscious of it on the tray. So when the doorbell rang downstairs and Carly automatically reached for the gun, Lisa didn’t hesitate.

  It was as if she had been poised for this moment all her life.

  Geoff sat up abruptly on the sofa. He had been asleep and it took him a second to realize where he was. The doorbell rang again. He got to his feet and hurried to the window.

  It was the black cop. Lazar.

  Geoff’s blood began pounding and he looked for other cops. He quietly moved the back windows and peered out. No one that he could see. That didn’t mean anything, though.

  He went back to look at the cop. No gun in his hands. His car pulled right up in the driveway. Ringing the doorbell.

  Maybe the guy just wanted to talk to Jansten again.

  Geoff let his breath out. Maybe, just maybe, if they were quiet, the man would go away. Geoff felt disoriented, not ready for this.

  That’s when he heard the sound of a struggle upstairs. The scrape of wood on wood that he figured must be the two of them struggling on the bed.

  “Shit,” he said under his breath and ran for the stairs.

  He was halfway up when one of them screamed and the gun went off, filling the house with a hollow boom.

  Geoff checked himself on the stairs and turned back as he heard the front doorknob rattle. The cop kicked the door, and Geoff saw the doorjamb splinter around the lock.

  Both of Geoff’s guns were upstairs.

  He threw himself over the banister and landed just a few feet away from the cop as he kicked his way into the foyer.

  Chapter 31

  Police!” Lazar yelled.

  Giving that warning almost cost the cop his life right there because it gave Geoff the split second to grasp Lazar’s revolver with his left hand and jam his index finger between the trigger and trigger guard. The cop tried to yank the gun away, and Geoff rammed him in the face with his elbow.

  Lazar twisted his head and the blow broke his cheekbone. The cop shoved Geoff hard and let go of the gun. That surprised Geoff and he fell back, off balance. Before he could transfer the revolver to his right hand, Lazar pivoted on one foot, kicked the gun away, and then did a fast spin and snapped off a kick at Geoff’s stomach. Geoff was able to block the blow with his forearms, but the force of it knocked him down and he slid across the marble floor. The big cop glided forward, and Geoff lashed out at his knee. Lazar turned just in time and took the hard kick against his thigh.

  It slowed him down long enough so that Geoff could roll to his feet. The two of them circled in the foyer, the cop’s breath rasping. Geoff’s own breathing was coming pretty fast too. This cop was as skilled as anyone Geoff had ever taken on in competition. And he was surprisingly quick for his size. Lazar’s eyes flickered to the floor, and Geoff risked taking his eyes off the cop for a split second to see the gun lying in the corner.

  Lazar jabbed his fingers at Geoff’s Adam’s apple.

  Geoff blocked him just in time. “Good try,” he said.

  That widened Lazar’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He kept circling for an opening. He snapped off another kick, which Geoff sidestepped neatly.

  Then Geoff went to work. He feinted with a groin kick, and followed up fast, hitting Lazar’s collarbone with the knife edge of both hands. Lazar bunched his heavy shoulder muscles just in time, but from the way his breath gusted out, Geoff could tell the blows had done some damage. When he connected another solid punch to Lazar’s cheekbone, he started laughing; he felt so good.

  The cop was winded and hurting.

  Geoff went for his eyes, his fore and index fingers rigid, his whole body exultant.

  Maybe it was Geoff’s overconfidence. Maybe it was just Lazar’s skill. But the cop parried the jab away, grasped Geoff’s wrist, and twisted his arm behind his back before the younger man even realized how much trouble he was in.

  Geoff tried to throw himself forward so that he could roll onto his back and yank the arm away. But Lazar wrapped his left arm around Geoff’s throat and kicked his legs out from under him. The two of them fell to the floor, Lazar on top. Geoff roared in pain—the man was going to break his right arm, he could feel the elbow joint giving way. Amazingly, he couldn’t see any options: Lazar’s gun was out of reach. Even if he could have reached it, Geoff needed his left arm to reach behind his back and try to counter the awful strength of the cop by holding his right wrist.

  Geoff saw Carly’s legs coming down the stairs in front of him.

  Suddenly the cop let go of Geoff and went for the revolver himself.

  From above Geoff’s head another gun spoke, impossibly loud in the foyer. Carly had his revolver, the one he had taken off Steve.

  The wall behind the cop splattered with blood and the cop dropped his gun, his right arm now useless. He fell to his knees, fumbling for the gun with his left hand.

  Geoff said, “Hold it, Carly.”

  He shoved the cop away and picked up the revolver himself. Geoff coughed and massaged his throat. As soon as he could breathe freely, he kissed Carly and gave her a hard squeeze around the shoulders. She was bone white and shaking. “Good girl.”

  He went back to stand over the cop, and then, abruptly, kicked him hard on the shoulder, right over the gunshot wound. That got a reaction from the cop, a strangled kind of scream. Geoff said, “Lazar, you let a woman beat you. How’s that appeal to that sense of humor of yours?”

  “Is she dead?” Geoff asked.

  “I wish.” Carly slapped Lisa in the face. “She fought me for the gun, but I got it back and cracked her a good one. That’s the second time she tried to kill me.”

  Lisa moaned and raised her head slightly, then let it fall back down. There was a lump on her forehead.

  “I’ve had it trying to help her.” Carly’s voice was cold and flat. “I think you should get rid of her.”

  “You do, huh?” He spoke up cheerfully. “Wake up, Lisa. We brought you some company.” Geoff went back into the hallway and grabbed Lazar. They had tied his hands and hobbled his legs with a short length of rope so he could walk but not use any of those kicks. Not that he looked like he was in any condition for that anymore. His face was swelling around his broken cheekbone and his arm trembled visibly as the blood poured down his sleeve, covering his hand. He looked at Lisa blankly at first, and then Geoff could see a stirring of interest. Lazar licked his lips and said, “Who’s she?”

  Geoff smiled. “This guy’s a tough one, Lisa. Kind of fat, but he’s got an exit wound as big as my fist out the back of his shoulder, and he still wants to meet the ladies. Lisa Dern, please meet Detective Lazar of the Boston Police.”

  “Geoff, let him lie down,” Lisa said. “Please.”

  “Please fuck yourself,” Carly snapped at her.

  Geoff put his arm around Carly and kissed her again. “You were ready for her. Saved me, too.”

  In spite of everything—of Lisa and the wounded cop staring at them mutely, of the fact of Jansten lying dead just a few rooms away—Carly smiled delightedly. Loving Geoff’s attention.

  Geoff smoothed her hair. “Honey, do me a favor and get me a couple of those white towels and facecloths, some disinfectant, and maybe you can give this guy a couple of those codeine pills we found.”

  She looked confused.

  “I’ve got plans for these two, honey. Now just do as I ask.”

  Carly did, and came back moments later with what he had requested.

  Geoff took her razor from his back pocket and cut Lisa’s arm free from the bed. He made a hobble for her like Lazar’s.

  To the girl, he said casually, “Honey, put the gun on Lazar and kill him if he moves.” Without further preamble, he took Lisa by the hair and shook her head hard. He held the razor up to her face. “You clean this cop up and keep him alive, at least until I’m ready to talk to him. And if you ever—ever—touch Carly again,
Steve won’t be able to tell you and Lazar apart by the time I finish spreading you both around this room.”

  Geoff left Carly with the gun, and then came back about five minutes later and nailed a sliding bolt lock to the outside of the door. The two of them left, without a word, and Lisa heard the bolt slide home.

  Lisa rubbed her face quickly, her hands still shaking. She took a deep breath and turned to Lazar. “Let’s see if I can help slow down that bleeding.”

  He gritted his teeth as she helped him pull off his sport jacket and shirt. She spread disinfectant on a folded towel and taped it against the big wound on his back and did the same with a small washcloth over the puckered wound just under his collarbone. The towel in back was soaking red already. She gave him codeine and water and had him lie down on his side, keeping the shoulder wound high. She put pillows under his legs, figuring he might be going into shock. His color was tinged gray under the brown of his skin. “I wish I knew what I was doing,” she said.

  He grunted. “Me too.” His eyes flickered open and he reached over to squeeze her arm. “Wished I knew what I was doing, I mean.” He grimaced. “I was on my own, no one knows I’m here.”

  Tears filled Lisa’s eyes. She didn’t realize until then how much she had been counting on him being the first of the cavalry.

  “Tell me what’s been going on,” he said.

  Lisa quickly sketched what had happened, from the rock climbing incident onward.

  “Jesus,” Lazar groaned. “A fucking nut. Why the hell didn’t your husband come to us? I just left him, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Steve’s all right?” she said, eagerly. “I just saw him that second at the house and Geoff was still up there.”

  “Oh, yeah. Your husband was on your boat.”

  Lisa felt a momentary panic, a brief flash of rage. She closed her eyes and forced herself to think. “No,” she said, firmly. “No, he couldn’t go to the police.” She told Lazar again about the way Geoff had locked her in the freezer, of the tapes she had recorded for Steve. “I’m sure he had Steve convinced that he would kill me if he brought in the police—and he would’ve, too.”

  Lazar grunted. “Maybe. So Geoff’s got the money now … why do you think you’re still alive?”

  She told him about Carly’s comment that Geoff wanted to get back at another man, that the money he had raised from Steve was just flash money.

  “You don’t know who that would be?”

  “No.”

  “Doesn’t give us any idea why he still needs us.”

  “I’ve had lots of time to think about that. From me, he wants an audience. He alternates between treating me terribly and then being considerate. It’s as if he respects you inordinately if you stand up to him, but he’s got to beat you down immediately to show you he’s stronger. He sees himself in competition with Steve. It’s not just revenge, it’s like he’s trying to prove something through us.”

  Lazar nodded. “The guy actually complimented me when we were fighting. Like I’d sunk a good hook shot playing basketball.”

  The two of them were silent for a moment. As Lazar rested, his eyes closed. Lisa touched her forehead gingerly. Her head still ached abominably.

  “You think your husband will make it to you again?” Lazar asked.

  “He’ll try.” That Lisa knew. Whether or not she would ever see him again, she didn’t know. This policeman struck her as very hard, very tough. And he hadn’t succeeded. She said, “Steve is very resourceful.”

  Lazar’s eyelids were growing heavy. “He better make it sooner rather than later. My guess is Geoff let us have this little talk to loosen me up so I’ll tell the truth as to when I can expect some backup. I wouldn’t tell him before.”

  “So what are you going to say?”

  Lazar sighed. “The truth, I guess. We’ve got at least two days before anyone will notice I’m gone. Better Mann knows that than to think they will be here tonight. Then he’d just kill me and move you. He’s going to want to keep you alive until he gets whatever he wants from your husband. Proves whatever he has to prove. Me, hell, my ass might be fried already. But I won’t beg him, I won’t give him that. From what you said about him, as soon as I do, he’ll kill me.” Lazar held Lisa’s hand and she squeezed it back, hard. “The longer we stay in his face, the more chances I’ll have to kick his teeth in. The more chances you’ll have to settle back on that nice boat with your husband.”

  Chapter 32

  Steve had been awake for hours when the phone rang just after seven in the morning. “You’re in for a treat,” a woman’s voice said. “Go to the Dunkin’ Donuts on Boylston Street. There’s a phone out front. Be there in twenty minutes.”

  He was there in fifteen. When the phone rang, the woman said, “The corner of West Newton and Columbus. The liquor store. Ten minutes.”

  There was a van following him a few cars back, but it took off up Columbus when he reached the liquor store and he never saw the driver. From there, the woman sent him on to two other locations, to a phone booth in front of the Boston Herald building, and then back across town to Newbury Street, in front of the big window of a restaurant. The sidewalk cafe was doing a brisk business, but everyone disappeared from Steve’s view when the phone rang and he said hello.

  “It’s me,” Lisa said.

  “Jesus.” His knees buckled slightly and then he recovered himself. “Where are you?”

  She was gone.

  The other woman’s voice came on the line. “That kind of question will get her killed. Now shut up and listen.”

  Lisa was put back on. “I’m supposed to make you understand that my life depends upon you telling the truth. That they haven’t put me in the box again like before, but they will if you lie.” Her voice shook as she said this, and Steve pressed the receiver hard against his ear.

  “I will get you out of this, Lisa.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  He heard the woman say, “Get off the phone.” Steve closed his eyes and willed the telephone receiver to give up some clue as to where Lisa was being held. But all he heard was the woman telling Lisa to sit on the floor.

  The woman came back on the line. “All right, you heard what she said about the truth. Did you dispose of those two packages and clean up like you were told?”

  Steve had the sense that she was reading the question. “Yes.”

  “Have you talked to the police? At all?”

  Steve hesitated, his mind racing. Geoff could have been watching him at any time.

  “Answer me!”

  “A Detective Lazar came to see me about Geoff. Wouldn’t say why, just that he had some questions.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “That I haven’t seen him since the rock climbing thing.”

  “Did he seem to buy that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Convince me.”

  Steve was at a loss. After a moment, he said, “He was just fishing. When he gave me his phone number he said he might be out for the next couple of days … whatever he wanted Geoff for, it didn’t seem all that urgent.”

  “Who else?”

  “No one.”

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  “I’m not.”

  She paused, and he waited. Then she said, “Final question. Are you ready to do what you’re told?”

  “Yes.”

  He could hear her breathing, and he felt that she was trying to make a decision. He couldn’t think of anything else to say to convince her—and then she said, abruptly, “Stay there.”

  She hung up.

  Five minutes passed. Steve counted the cars going by, looking for the van. He stood in front of the phone once when a man about his age wanted to use it. The man started to argue, then looked closer at Steve and hurried away.

  Steve’s knees shook slightly. Had he passed Geoff’s little test?

  He shivered, even though the day was warm.

  Had he failed? Had he just spoken to L
isa for the last time?

  A waitress came up to him, smiling cautiously. “Sir? I believe that man is trying to get your attention.”

  Steve turned. Geoff was inside the restaurant, smiling broadly from a corner table, waving him in. Inviting him to breakfast.

  Very good, Steve, the truth shall set Lisa free,” Geoff said, cutting into his omelet. “I didn’t see the police following, so I sent you on to the Herald and came on back here. Just think, if my pimp friend, Jammer, had taken the time to chase you around to a few phones, he and Alex might be alive now.”

  Geoff was dressed casually in the jeans and an open-neck cotton shirt that he had been wearing the night Alex was killed. But the clothes looked freshly washed, and he was shaved and clear-eyed. There were scabs on his right temple. Burns, maybe. He said, “My friend phoned to say you were forthright about a policeman looking for me. Did this cop say why he wanted me?”

  Steve hesitated, then answered. “He just said it was routine.”

  “Describe him.”

  Steve did, holding back nothing about Lazar’s visit. He spoke slowly and carefully, feeling tightly coiled. Wanting so much to pull the derringer free from his belt and shoot Geoff in the forehead.

  Geoff shrugged. “Just a little problem in Roxbury. Has nothing to do with this business of ours.”

  “And just what is our business?”

  “Later. You’ll take me out for a boat ride, and I’ll give you the specifics.” He looked out the window. “Weather seems perfect. What will that Blue Water of yours do? About thirty-five, forty?”

  “About that. You’re having a lot of fun, aren’t you, Geoff?”

  “Best rush ever. You could have it too, if you loosen up a little. Better than any rock climbing you’ve ever done, believe it.” He leaned forward and punched Steve on the shoulder, laughing at the way Steve’s face flushed with rage. “Lighten up!”

  “Shut up and listen to me, Geoff.” Steve’s voice was quiet. “You give me the job you want done, and I’ll do it for you. Then you owe me one thing—”