Dirty Money

by Ashley Bartlett

  “Romance,” Esau elaborated. “The beauty of pain. If Vito wants to know what a man’s insides look like, the man needn’t die for it. There are other ways of accomplishing our goals.”

  “You are a creepy motherfucker.” I set down my empty mug and went for the door. “Let me know when you find someone sane for me to work with.”

  “Cooper.” Vito’s voice stopped me. Like Dad when he was pissed.

  “It’s fine, sir.” Esau stood and crossed the room to stand next to me. He was a few inches shorter than I was. “I’m not insane. Or if I am then I am nothing like Vito’s usual taste. Did you ever meet Tommy?”

  Interesting. Vito hadn’t told him I’d killed Tommy.

  “Yes.”

  “He was a sick boy. Too focused on his own disgusting needs.” For the first time, something other than serenity crossed Esau’s face. It was pure revulsion. “I don’t work the same way he did.”

  “That doesn’t make you any better.”

  “I can teach you how I work.” He actually seemed to want me. As if I’d been the one he’d been looking for. What did that say about me? “Come with me on a job. If you don’t like what I do then we will leave it at that.”

  “Fine.”

  Esau smiled again. “I’ll have something later tonight.” He glanced at his watch. “You should have another few hours. I’ll pick you up out front.”

  “Okay. Call me when you’re ready.”

  “Cooper?” Vito spoke again.

  “What?”

  He tossed me a cell phone.

  “Oh, right.”

  “And get a haircut. You look like a girl.”

  “Fuck you. I am a girl.”

  He dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

  *

  I did get a haircut. Not for Vito. For me. My hair was too long. It kept tickling my ears and felt really heavy. Once my neck was buzzed, I just felt cleaner. I left the top long though. If Vito thought it looked girly, he could suck it.

  I also bought a suit. Not as high end as Reese would have gone for, but she still would have liked my choices. Sure, maybe it was pathetic to wear what Reese would have liked, but pride was out the window months ago.

  The shoes were my only real indulgence. Gucci loafers. It seemed like what Ash Evans would have done.

  Esau picked me up at nine in front of the hotel. The second I got in, he tossed a small revolver in an ankle holster on my lap.

  “Put that on.”

  “I can’t.” The suit was slim, as in no room for an ankle holster. Besides, it would have totally ruined the lines. “It won’t fit.”

  Esau looked me over. “You need to be armed.”

  I took out the gun and slid it into the back of my waistband. My jacket would cover it.

  “Can you get it quickly?”

  “Faster than with it strapped to my leg.”

  “Next time you get something tailored, wear a holster.” All business, this guy.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To pick up a package. Look in the glove box.”

  I did and was rewarded with a handful of glossies of some dude. Greasy ponytail, shiny suit, looked super charming.

  “He’s got our package?”

  “He is the package.”

  “How about some details? I mean, if you’re so eager to teach me how you work.” I was bored of being in the dark.

  Esau’s grin caught the ambient city light. “His name is Ray Caruso. He was a contractor for us.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Border runs between Mexico and San Diego. He would pick up drugs, get them wherever they needed to go, then pass the merchandise on to smaller boats to take ashore. Sometimes, he would act as a go-between and shuttle girls or guns. For some associates.” By now, we were getting on a freeway. I didn’t know which freeway. Good job me.

  “So pretty much everything I want nothing to do with.”

  “Just listen. His cargo started getting lost. He’d have to dump because of patrol boats. Or a handful of kilos wouldn’t make it.” Esau shrugged. “Maybe a case or two of AK-47s. Eight girls left Mexico and never arrived.” He looked away from the road to meet my eyes.

  “Skimming?”

  “Probably. We’ll find out. Our associates are very unhappy.”

  “When you say associates?” Why the fuck did I ask that?

  “Someone the DiGiovannis do business with.”

  “Why’d they send you?”

  “Because I can find people who don’t want to be found. Caruso disappeared. I’ve been hunting him down.”

  “Then why do you need me? What are we doing?”

  Esau explained my role as we left the freeway and drove through city streets toward the ocean. It didn’t sound too hard. Even a little James Bond like.

  If only I could keep from puking.

  *

  I climbed the gangplank onto a yacht and handed my invitation to a bouncer-looking dude. It didn’t take me long to find Caruso talking to a group of men on the edge of the party. I watched him from a dark corner sipping a scotch. Once he was nearly alone, I made my way through the crowd swaying a little with each step. A few people got out of my way; most didn’t pay any attention to me.

  Caruso was telling some story, waving his arms about, when I stumbled into him spilling his drink.

  “What the fuck?” He punched me back a step.

  “Oh, man. Sorry. I’m so sorry,” I slurred convincingly.

  He went to push me again, but paused when he realized I was a chick dressed in boys’ clothing, not just a pretty boy.

  “Serious, like, so sorry.” I put a hand out to placate him and steady myself. “Can I get you another drink?”

  “What’s wrong with you? You blind or something?” Caruso stared at me all pissed off and shit and brushed at his suit.

  “Real sorry, man. You want me to cover the dry-cleaning? Or get you another drink?” I asked like it was a new idea.

  He glared. “Yeah, sure.” He set down his sticky glass. “Rum and Coke.” What kind of grown man drank rum and Coke? I hadn’t had one since I was sixteen.

  “Right. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Still swaying, I made for the bar.

  When I returned, I handed Caruso a fresh drink and sipped from the scotch I’d gotten myself.

  “Whoa, dude.” I leaned close enough to one of his friends for him to smell the booze on my breath. “That’s the coolest tiepin I’ve ever seen.” I peered at the hideous jewel encrusted skull and crossbones in the center of his tie.

  They laughed, taking amusement in the drunk kid.

  “Junior, you all right?” the guy with the tiepin asked.

  “What? Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I leaned against the side of the boat. “Just having a good time.”

  “You alone?”

  “I guess. Wanted to play poker, you know?” I turned out my pants pockets, which were empty, then checked my jacket pockets. “But my girlfriend, I think she’s got my invite to the game.” From the inside of my jacket, I dug out a wad of cash and sorted through like I was searching for something. Their eyes got wide at my collection of bills. I couldn’t believe they were falling for this shit. Esau was right; these guys were gonna be easy. “She got all mad ’cause she said I was drunk, so she left. And damn it, she totally took the invite. What a bitch, huh?” I stuffed the cash back in my jacket and moved on to checking my back pockets.

  “Chicks.” Caruso laughed and downed half his drink.

  “Yeah, fuck ’em.” I finished my scotch. “And I’m totally not even drunk, by the way.”

  They nodded. Liars.

  “We’re, uh, going to another game later,” Tiepin informed me. “If you wanna come?”

  “Nuh-uh. For real?” He smiled all predatory. Did they think anyone was this stupid? “That’s totally cool of you guys. Hey, I’m gonna get another drink. Anyone want?”

  “Sure, kid.” Caruso handed me his now empty glass.

  “Scotch for me,” th
e third guy finally spoke. He was about three times the size of Caruso and Tiepin combined. When he talked, his sixth chin wobbled. Wrong.

  “Man, you guys are like really cool,” I let them know as I walked away.

  At the bar, I watched the bartender pour the rum and Coke. While he busied himself with the scotches, I dropped a small pill into the dark liquid in Caruso’s glass. It sank to the bottom, fizzing in the Coke. By the time I got back to the group, it was dissolved.

  “Here.” I juggled drinks to hand them over. “So you guys, like, serious about the game?”

  “Yeah.” Tiepin nodded at his buddies. “Why not?”

  “That’s chill.” I grinned like a dumbass and chugged some more booze.

  It didn’t take long for the drug I’d slipped Caruso to take effect. They were all drunk, so when he started tilting to one side and leaning heavily on his friend, they didn’t seem to notice the difference.

  “I think we should probably go,” Chunk spoke up again and twitched his head toward Caruso.

  “Yeah. Poker time, man.” I nodded like an idiot. Finally. Caruso was going to pass out in a few minutes. I wanted to be off the boat by then.

  Caruso’s friends seemed only slightly stunned at how dumb I was.

  It took some serious maneuvering to get everyone off the boat, down the dock, and to the parking lot. Caruso had apparently lost the ability to put one foot in front of the other.

  “Your bro is losing it, dude,” I said.

  “Yeah, I’ll get the car,” Chunk offered. “You guys wait here.”

  That worked for me. Only one guy to get rid of. The second Chunk disappeared down a row of cars, Esau pulled up. He got out, opened the trunk, and came straight for us.

  “What the fuck?” Tiepin asked before Esau dropped him with a single punch.

  “I told you I wanted him alone,” Esau said as we tossed Caruso, now unconscious, in the trunk.

  “Yeah, well, he’s got friends.” I slammed the trunk. It hit Caruso’s feet. I shoved them in and tried again. “Just be happy it wasn’t the big dude.”

  “Get in the car.”

  Damn, Esau really didn’t like when things didn’t go according to his plan.

  *

  The warehouse smelled faintly of bleach. That had to be a bad sign. We put Caruso in a chair. His head hung forward at an awkward angle. It was creepy.

  “Secure his wrists and ankles.” Esau gave me a handful of zip ties. “Make ’em tight.”

  I did as I was told. Once I was finished, Esau waved some smelling salts under Caruso’s nose until he woke up. Judging by the incoherent shit he was muttering, he had no clue what was going on. Esau bitch-slapped him a couple times, but there wasn’t much improvement.

  “You hungry, kid?”

  “Are you for real?” I looked at Esau like he was crazy because he clearly was.

  “Yeah, I’ve been into Thai.”

  “You want me to go get you fucking Thai?”

  “No,” he said it real slow. “I’m going to get food. He’s taking too long to wake up and I’m hungry.”

  “Pad Thai. Lots of tofu and no bean sprouts or chicken. And nothing with curry.” This was obviously a when in Rome sort of situation.

  “Do you have rules for everything?”

  “Only the things that matter.”

  He seemed to find this funny. “Any rules about beverages?”

  “I don’t drink cheap, crappy beer.”

  “Of course. I’ll be back soon.” And then he left me with our friend. Hostage. Package. Whatever.

  After fifteen minutes, I was bored. Caruso was asleep again. So I decided to wake him up. Not the best of my ideas.

  “Hey,” I shouted at Caruso. “Dude, wake up.” Nothing. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Caruso, get your shit together, man.”

  “Huh?” There was life in him after all. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Your worst nightmare would have been appropriate. Or maybe I’m with the DiGiovannis. Oh, or none of your fuckin’ business. I decided to ignore the question.

  “Are you wakin’ up? ’Cause I’m bored as hell here.”

  “Where the fuck am I?” he slurred.

  “A warehouse.” Honestly, I didn’t know.

  “Fuckin’ untie me.”

  “Nope.”

  “You can’t hold me here,” he said. Great, now he was awake.

  “Legally, no. I’m thinking they frown on kidnapping.” If this place was bugged, I was screwed.

  Caruso agreed. “Help,” he started screaming like a girl. Not that I could blame him. “Please, somebody, help me!”

  “Dude, shut up.”

  “Please, I’ve been kidnapped!” The cries echoed off the walls.

  “Seriously, no one can hear you.” I wasn’t trying to be cruel, just honest.

  “Help! Please! Anybody!”

  I wasn’t proud of what I did next.

  “Shut up,” I shouted back at him. He let out a long wail. So I smacked him. More screaming. I hit him again. “Seriously, shut the fuck up.” And again with the screaming.

  I needed a new approach. Esau had dropped a bag on the floor. I was guessing it was his let’s kidnap people gear. It was. I rummaged through until I found a roll of duct tape. Caruso was still yelling. I pulled off a fat strip and tried to slap it over his mouth, but he kept rocking his head side to side so I couldn’t get it to stick. I punched him. Hard. It slowed him down long enough for me to get the tape in place.

  I really wasn’t digging this new job.

  By the time Esau got back, Caruso had worn himself out with the screaming through the tape and futilely twisting in his chair. He had the beginnings of a bruise forming on his cheek and was giving me a new understanding of the phrase staring daggers.

  Esau took one look at him and started laughing. “Had fun while I was gone did you?”

  “I got bored.” As if that would explain. Esau set the food down along with a six-pack of Sierra Nevada. Totally acceptable. He went to take the tape off Caruso. “Please don’t do that. It took forever for him to stop screaming.” He did it anyway.

  “Man, I don’t know who the fuck you are or what the fuck you want, but fuckin’ let me go,” Caruso’s word vomit started flowing and showed no signs of stopping. “I didn’t do anything. Just let me go and I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Stop talking,” Esau said. Miraculously, it worked. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “No.” To emphasize, Caruso started shaking his head rather violently.

  “I think you do.”

  “No, man. Really. Just let me go, okay? I didn’t do anything.”

  Esau grabbed Caruso’s chin and put the tape back over his mouth. Why didn’t I do that?

  “Thai?” he asked me like we were about to watch a game, not torture some dude.

  I shrugged and opened a beer. This was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Ten

  By the early hours of the morning, Caruso had figured out who we were and why he was strapped to a chair. The blood covering his greasy suit and the swelling in the general area of his entire body may have contributed to this knowledge. The food was gone and so was the beer, and really, I just wanted a shower and a bed.

  I wasn’t going to get what I wanted for a while.

  “I just want to know a name, Ray, that’s all.” Esau was crouched in front of Caruso crooning at him. The calm voice didn’t seem to be doing much for our victim.

  “Please.” Caruso started to beg again. “I don’t know his name. Just let me go.”

  Esau considered this, nodding his head like a good listener. Then, very meticulously, he began to slice away Caruso’s jacket and shirt. He cut up the center, slid the knife tip between shoulder and cloth, and sawed down the sleeves.

  “Cooper?”

  Reluctantly, I stepped behind Caruso and helped Esau pull the shards of clothing away.

  “What…what are you doing?” Caruso started sucking in b
ig gasps of air.

  Esau pouted his bottom lip like he was thinking real hard. “The name?”

  “I told you, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

  More pouting, this time while nodding his head again. “What do you think, kid? I think he’s lying.”

  “Yep.” Esau glared at me. “I concur.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  “Maybe,” Esau mused, “he just can’t remember.”

  “It’s possible. How can we help him with that?”

  “The alphabet, I think.” Esau seemed pleased with himself at this idea. He crouched back down. “Remember way back to kindergarten, Ray. We are going to give you some letters and when one rings a bell, you just let us know, all right?” He spoke real slow like you would to a child.

  I was getting a decidedly bad feeling about this.

  “First is ‘A.’” Esau carved an upside down V at the top of Caruso’s chest. He cut a triangle below the apex. Below that, three short horizontal lines. Then he joined those lines together. Caruso was trying not to scream. Carefully, slowly, Esau slid his knife underneath the “A” he’d cut. When he pulled the skin away, he kept a finger on the small triangle in the center so it would stay in place. He held up the flap of skin for me to see.

  I was going to vomit.

  “Look at that. Real pretty, huh?”

  “Lovely penmanship,” I said. Sometimes it’s better to indulge the maniac instead of pissing him off.

  “Thank you. My mother always did say I had beautiful handwriting. So did ‘A’ remind you of anything, Ray?” This dude was out of his skull fuckin’ crazy.

  Ray just shook his head. I was pretty sure if he opened his mouth he would scream. Probably didn’t want to give Esau the satisfaction. That conviction wouldn’t last long.

  Esau shrugged and tossed the “A” over his shoulder.

  “Hmm, okay. On to ‘B’ then.” Another line. Blood spilled from the cut. On the curves of the “B” Esau nimbly twirled the knife. What a waste of pretty hands.

  “Is ‘B’ reminding you of anything, Ray?” I asked. It was the most participation Esau was going to get out of me.

  Caruso gritted his teeth but said nothing. He screamed when Esau teased the “B” off his chest. I was going to be sick.