by Tim Green
Ty shook his head.
"No, you got no business savvy," Uncle Gus said. "Just like your brother with that agent of his. Watch and learn."
Instead of turning for home, Uncle Gus got on the highway and headed south. Ty fell asleep, only to wake as they pulled into the brightly lit circular drive of an Atlantic City casino. The clock on the dashboard said one-thirty. Uncle Gus reached under the seat and removed a brown bag, peeking in at its contents and poking the tip of his tongue out from beneath the bristles of his mustache. He hopped out and gave the valet some money, telling him he needed only five minutes and to leave the truck right where it was.
"Watch and learn if you like," Uncle Gus said, slamming his door closed.
Ty scrambled out and took off after his uncle.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
UNCLE GUS WADDLED THROUGH the towering doors of glass and gold. Ty followed him through a maze of colors and chrome, ringing slot machines, rattling roulette tables, and the call of dealers playing twenty-one. Uncle Gus disappeared through an archway. Ty followed and found a bank of televisions plastered across a huge wall. People sat with drinks at small tables, watching everything from horse racing to volleyball. Uncle Gus hurried to a long counter beneath a sign that said, SPORTS BOOK.
Ty crept up behind him and watched as he removed several stacks of bills from his paper bag, added the money he'd taken from Ty, and pushed it across the counter to a young woman in a red blazer.
"All on the Jets this Sunday," Uncle Gus said, slapping his palm on the countertop.
The woman raised her eyebrows and counted out the money, thirteen thousand dollars. The woman punched some numbers into her keyboard, then handed him a receipt. Uncle Gus turned, winked at Ty, and motioned for him to follow as he hustled back out to the truck. He fired up the engine and pulled back out onto the road, then interrupted his grin long enough to whistle a little tune that Ty recognized as "Yankee Doodle Dandy."
When Uncle Gus roused him the next morning, Ty barely remembered getting home. Although tiny webs of blood vessels crept from the corners of Uncle Gus's eyes, his call to get up suggested plenty of energy. Ty groaned and looked at his clock, then sprang up out of bed. They usually started their Saturday morning rounds at eight and finished by two. His game today against Brookfield was at three. The clock read 8:37.
He tipped his mattress against the wall, threw on his sneakers, scooped up the laundry bag that held his uniform, and dashed into the kitchen.
"We've got to go," Ty said.
"Am I the only one with an alarm clock in this house?" Uncle Gus asked, sipping from a mug of coffee. Aunt Virginia sat in her robe reading the paper and shaking her head.
"My game is at three, Uncle Gus," Ty said. "I have to be there at two for warm-ups."
Uncle Gus looked at his watch, pursed his lips, and shook his head.
"I don't know," he said. "We're gonna have to clean fast."
Charlotte gave Ty a sympathetic look. She hopped up from the table and rinsed her cereal bowl in the sink. "I'm ready."
"Off we go," Uncle Gus said, taking his coffee with him and heading for the front door.
Ty cleaned like a tornado, finishing his work and diving in to help Charlotte with hers. The only thing Uncle Gus did to help was hang up the posters Thane had given him, proudly announcing to passersby that Tiger was his nephew. On Saturdays, they usually cleaned Lucy's last, and that's where they found themselves at ten after one. Since Lucy's was only twenty minutes from Halpern Middle School, if they finished in half an hour, Ty could still get to the game on time.
He rushed in the back door with his supplies and charged right past the kitchen.
"Hey, kid," Mike said, sticking his head out into the hall and waving his hand for Ty to come back.
The outside metal door behind Mike banged open, bringing with it Uncle Gus carrying his last poster and Charlotte toting the vacuum. Mike opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.
"I'm gonna be late," Ty said, backing through the swinging door to the men's room, banging his mop handle against the wall. "I got a game."
Mike opened his mouth again to say something, but the door swung closed and Ty darted into the men's room, spilling ammonia into the bucket and filling it with water before splashing it onto the floor with his mop and getting to work. The filth no longer made him ill, and even the stench no longer seemed like a shocking offense but rather a small annoyance. He flushed the toilet and turned at the sound of the door opening.
Mike held a finger to his lips, signaling Ty to keep quiet. He held the backpack Ty had seen before in his hand. Mike moved closer and in a low voice said, "Something's up."
Ty felt a chill.
"Like what?" he asked in a whisper. "Something with Thane?"
"I don't know," Mike said, removing some kind of wand from his pack along with an electronic box and a set of headphones all connected by black wires, "but Lucy banged his crowbar on the bar about twenty minutes ago and he's been in his office ever since. Your uncle just went in there with him."
On cue, the thin sound of Lucy's shouting floated out of the vent inside the stall. Mike's eyes shot toward the stall, then returned to Ty.
"If you put your ear to the vent, you can hear in there," Ty said.
"How do you think I know so much about what's going on?" Mike said, raising the electronic equipment that Ty now recognized as a microphone and recording device.
Ty scurried into the stall and knelt down by the vent. Mike wedged himself halfway in, slipped the headphones over his ears, and poked the microphone over Ty's shoulder, clicking on the recorder.
"Sit down," Lucy said in a voice pleasant but laced with tension.
"Everything okay?" Uncle Gus asked. "Look, I got one of these posters for you."
"Real nice," Lucy said. "A charity thing, huh? Your nephew. This thing is right now, huh?"
"Next Saturday, too," Uncle Gus said, his voice trailing off. "I thought it'd look good on the wall, you know, to make the connection with Tiger maybe showing up here sometimes. It's a good action shot."
"Yeah, it is," Lucy said. "So, everything else okay?"
"Sure," Uncle Gus said.
"You must be feeling pretty good about the game tomorrow, huh?" Lucy said.
"Sure," Uncle Gus said, forcing a laugh. "It's good for all of us. Nothing like a sure thing."
The silence lasted so long that Ty wondered if they'd left the office, but just as he turned to Mike with a questioning look, Lucy slammed his crowbar down on what sounded like his desk. Ty jumped.
"Sure thing?" Lucy said, raising his voice to a roar. "A sure thing going the other way! You didn't think we'd find out? You put thirteen thousand dollars on the Jets down in Atlantic City and you didn't think I'd find out about that?"
Uncle Gus began to whimper. "Lucy, I can explain."
"Don't you even talk to me!" Lucy said, screaming and smashing something with the crowbar. "I'll tell you what's going to happen now. That nephew of yours? You think he's going to play in that game tomorrow? You think you can cross us? Well, that ain't gonna happen."
"Lucy, what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to save you and me from a swim in the Passaic River with concrete shoes," Lucy said. "That kid plays tomorrow and Big Al's gonna blame me, too, because I'm the one that brought you to him. Now, you're gonna wait right here until I get back. Don't you even move from that chair."
"You're not going to use that?" Uncle Gus said with a moan.
"You think he's got a bad knee now?" Lucy said.
"Wait till I get through with his knee."
Ty had barely digested Lucy's words before the door to the bar owner's office swung open and slammed shut again.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
TY STRUGGLED TO GET past Mike, pushing the giant to make room in the stall's doorway.
"Easy," Mike said, holding the recorder and microphone up in the air to protect them from Ty as he wormed his way out of the stall. "You'll break
it."
Ty squeezed past him and dashed for the bathroom door, only to be yanked into the air. Mike had him by the back of his shirt.
"Wait," Mike said in his low, rumbling voice. "I got to stow this stuff."
Mike scooped up the backpack and stuck his listening equipment inside. "Settle down."
"He's going after my brother!" Ty said.
"You can't go anywhere without me," Mike said, zipping up the pack. "I don't want any of the regulars out there to see you and me shooting out of here. I'll walk out, calmly, and after a minute, you follow me to the back. Don't worry. We'll find him first."
"But Lucy's already on his way there," Ty said, pushing at Mike again, but without success.
"On his way where?" Mike asked.
"The mall," Ty said. "Thane's doing a signing. It's on the poster. We've got to get him."
"You telling me he knows where Tiger is?" Mike said.
Ty nodded and Mike spun around, yanking open the door, grabbing Ty by the arm and dashing through the back of the bar, down the hallway and out the back. They hopped into Mike's rusty Jeep but had to stop when Charlotte appeared and stood with her hands held out, blocking their path. Mike leaned on the horn, and Ty shouted to get out of the way, but she stood her ground.
Ty hopped out and yanked open the back door. "Come on!"
Charlotte circled the Jeep and jumped in, slamming her door at the same time Ty shut his own. Mike's tires shrieked, and off they went like a rocket.
Mike took one hand off the wheel, flipped open his phone, and hit a speed dial.
"Kline?" he said. "It's me. We got a problem. I think we're blown and Lucy's on his way to the mall to do I don't know what to Tiger Lewis."
Mike paused to listen.
"Forget the case," Mike said, raising his voice. "Get the locals over there. Everyone you can. Find Tiger and grab Lucy."
There was another pause as Mike darted between cars and ran through a yellow light blaring his horn. Mike glanced at Ty and asked, "Do you know where in the mall?"
"No," Ty said.
"No," Mike said into the phone. "Just get them there."
Mike ended the call and handed Ty the phone. "Call mall security and see if you can find out where your brother is."
"Should I tell them someone's coming to hurt my brother?" Ty asked.
"It's worth a try," Mike said, rounding a corner so hard that they nearly rolled over.
Ty got an answering machine, pushed zero for customer service, and got put on hold. Mike shot onto the highway, and when traffic clogged up, he passed everyone on the right, driving full speed down the breakdown lane all the way to the next exit. Ty could see the mall before they even got off. The Jeep fish-tailed as Mike wound his way through the maze of the parking lot. Ty searched the rows of cars and the other traffic for a sign of Lucy. Mike came to an abrupt halt right in front of the doors, and they jumped out into the throng of people just as someone from customer service got on the line.
Ty asked if the man knew where the Tiger Lewis signing was, and the man put him on hold again. They ran up the escalators, searching frantically. There were four levels of shops. Ty ran for the center of the mall thinking it the most likely place for a charity event to be. Charlotte nearly kept his pace, but by the time they reached the center, Mike had dropped back. Ty spun in circles, his eyes aching for some sign of his brother. He looked up at the next two levels and down through the open center at the food court below. Mobs of people washed past him, with no idea about the crazy mobster ready to destroy his brother's career.
He couldn't stand there. He had to move, so he took off running. He'd cover every square inch of the place if he had to. Halfway down one section, he heard Charlotte screeching his name. He spun, eyes darting this way and that, looking for Thane, thinking she must have seen him. He didn't see a thing, though, and he shot a frustrated look back at Charlotte's pale face. She stabbed her finger at two people walking his way, a young boy with his father. Ty wrinkled his brow and threw his hands up, exasperated.
"What?" he shouted, jogging back toward his cousin.
By this time, Charlotte had caught up to the father and son, and she grabbed the older man by the sleeve. Ty arrived, noticing now that the boy had a football under one arm.
"Did you get Tiger to sign that?" Charlotte asked the man, breathless.
"Anybody can," the man said. "It costs twenty bucks, but it goes to charity."
"Where?" Charlotte asked.
"Right here," the boy said.
"But where?" Charlotte asked, her voice pitched to a frenzy. "Where here?"
"By the movie theater," the father said, pointing.
"At the other end of the mall. The top floor."
Ty took off on a sprint. He streaked past Mike, shouting that Thane was by the movie theater. Halfway there, he saw an escalator to the top floor thick with people. Over by a department store, he saw a set of stairs. He headed for them instead, shooting straight up to the fourth floor, taking the steps three at a time.
There were only a few people on the top level except for at the far end of the mall. Ty saw a crowd gathered in front of the movie theaters, where Tiger was signing autographs. A second escalator ran up the open space in the middle of the mall from the floor below, ending directly in front of the theaters. Two couples got off at the top, and halfway down, on his way up, Ty recognized Lucy. He held his right hand stiff to his side. Just below his knee Ty could make out the clawed hook of the crowbar.
Ty shouted, but the crowd burst into applause and no one seemed to hear. The signing must be over. Thane would be a perfect target for Lucy as he made his way through the crowd.
Ty's lungs burned from running and his side ached, but the sight of Lucy riding calmly up the escalator ignited something deep inside him. He found his burst of speed, raced down the last stretch, rounded the corner, and reached the head of the escalator just as Lucy stepped off.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
USING THE SAME TECHNIQUE Thane had shown him on the blocking dummy, the same technique he'd stalked Calvin West with, Ty coiled and sprang at Lucy, both hands striking him dead center in the chest at the same time. With one foot on the escalator and one foot in midair, Lucy tipped back, grasping empty space with one hand and instinctively swinging the crowbar with the other. The weapon whistled past Ty's head. It struck the opposite handrail; a shriek tore free from Lucy's throat as he fell.
Lucy's head hit the escalator steps with a thump just as his feet circled over him in a horrible cartwheel. As his crumpled legs hit the stairs, his battered head came up, arms still flailing, only to go back down again. Tumbling this way, Lucy bumped and banged his way to the very bottom, coming to rest in a broken heap at the base of the escalator just as Mike staggered up between two policemen with their guns drawn.
The FBI agents wanted statements from everyone immediately. Nearly two hours passed before Ty climbed into Thane's Escalade and remembered he had a football game.
"You've been pretty busy," Thane said, navigating the SUV out of the parking lot at the federal office building.
Ty's muscles felt drained of energy, but the idea of Coach V getting canned fired him up.
"My stuff's in Uncle Gus's truck," Ty said. "It's at Lucy's."
Uncle Gus had been scooped up by some other agents at Lucy's and was still inside the federal office building, answering questions.
"Does he lock it?" Thane asked.
"It's in the back with the cleaning stuff," Ty said.
"The lock's broken."
Thane stepped on the gas to make a traffic light. They retrieved Ty's uniform and raced to the game. As they rode down the street to the football field, the scoreboard came into view. Halpern was down 21-10 with only six minutes to go. Sickness exploded inside Ty's stomach like a cherry bomb.
"You'll have to hurry," Thane said, pulling up onto the curb. Ty grabbed his equipment.
"I'll tell the coach so he knows you're coming," Thane shouted as Ty sprin
ted across the blacktop behind the school, toward the locker room.
Ty tried to slow his frantic breathing and quell the tremble in his fingers as he laced, buckled, and yanked on his gear. Finally, he burst through the locker room door, heading for the field, throwing on his helmet and snapping his chinstrap into place. Parents filled the small set of bleachers on the Halpern side of the field, but the Brookfield crowd spilled out of their bleachers, blanketing the hillside and surrounding the field like an invading army.
Two of the six minutes in the final quarter had already expired. Halpern had the ball, but the scoreboard said they faced a fourth down with eight yards to go. Coach V saw Ty and called a time-out.
Ty arrived, breathless, at the little group of players surrounding Coach V. Thane stood near the bench, giving him a thumbs-up.
"You ready?" Coach V asked, looking from Poyer, the quarterback, to Ty.
They both nodded yes.
"We can still do this," the coach said, then called a midrange pass play that would send Ty on a twelve-yard hook. "Get the first down and then we'll go for the end zone."
Ty went to the huddle, accepting hand slaps from several teammates before listening to the play and lining up. When the center hiked the ball, Ty shot forward, startling the cornerback with the distance he covered in a split second. He ran by at full speed, the cornerback turning his hips and starting to sprint, desperate to keep up.
At twelve yards, Ty planted a foot and hooked back toward the quarterback. Poyer zipped the ball before Ty even spun. There it was! With the speed of a frog's tongue, Ty snatched the ball from the air but got hit from both sides.
He felt the ball come loose as he crumpled to the ground.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
TY HUNG ON. THEY had the first down they needed. As promised, Coach V sent Ty for a long bomb on the very next play. He beat the defenders to the goal line by nearly ten yards, catching Poyer's pass and closing the gap to 21-16. The team swarmed Ty, and the Halpern sideline erupted with joy. They kicked the extra point to make it 21-17, but they'd need another touchdown to win. When Ty returned to the sideline, Thane collared him and bent down to whisper in his ear.
