Beautiful, Naked and Dead mm-1

by Josh Stallings

  “I know what he looks like,” Cass whispered. I looked at her stunned.

  “How the hell do you know him?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She looked away, out the window.

  “Only a little.”

  “Why?” She looked back at me, innocent.

  “Because it does. If I don’t get all the facts, I’m spinning this car around and going home,” I yelled.

  “No you’re not.” She called my bluff. “They know your name.” Her voice was calm and her eyes had gone cold. “They won’t stop hunting you until you stop them.”

  “She’s right boss,” Gregor spoke from the back seat.

  “I know she is damn it. I just don’t know who she is!”

  “I’m your girl and you are my man.” She softened, clasping her little hand around my three middle fingers, “I would never do anything to hurt you.” She caressed my hand focusing her attention down so she wouldn’t have to see my eyes if I rebuffed her. Who was I kidding, this wasn’t about her, or me, it was about Kelly and me setting my conscience to rest. I had killed the punk who killed her but the mouth breather who ordered it was still walking free.

  “Ok, fuck it, let’s go bowling,” I said and fired up the Crown Vic. Fishtailing onto Skyline I let the V8 roar. Pushing hard, I was going ninety-five when I slammed into the gate. The iron snapped and bent around the hood, ripping from its post. I hit the brakes slamming it in reverse, smoking the tires. On the second hit the gate toppled off its hinges and fell to the side. A tall ape of a man in a tee-shirt jumped out of the guardhouse, aiming a pump shotgun at me. I locked up the brakes, pressing my.45 against the inside of my door, I tapped off three quick shots. They punched through the sheet metal of my door and into his gut. He fell, stumbling back into the guardhouse. I stomped on the gas and we flew down the twisting driveway. Around two bends and past a small pond lay a large two-story wood home. Six cars were parked on the circular drive. Half dressed men ran from the front door as we approached. The rhythmic rattle of automatic fire blasted as bullet holes punched into the Crown Vic’s body. I wrenched the wheel to the left sliding it sideways, blocking the exit. Bullets tore through the cab, ripping shredded holes into upholstery and sparking in the darkness.

  Gregor dove out of the back seat, he rolled and came up firing. Emptying his clip he scattered the men coming from the house. On the run, he used the parked cars for cover while he reloaded. Cass and I crawled out my door and down a small embankment that led to the pond. Moving quickly over the wet ground we headed toward the house. I pushed my way up through tall cattails. A pair of legs in wool slacks moved in front of me. I pulled the trigger on the Mossberg, the buck shot cut a wide path through the water grasses and the man went down screaming.

  Springing to my feet I ran for the house. A shirtless punk spun from the porch and fired three wild shots before I blew him back through a picture window, glass and man both tumbled into the house. A huge form rose up beside me, I heard Cass’ gun go off, the man tumbled over grabbing his fountaining throat. From the porch I leapt into the ruined window. Cass was in mid-air following me when something hit her, she twisted and blood bloomed from her upper body. She fell sliding across the floor. On a wide staircase I sensed movement and fired without thought. A fat man with a bad rug slid down the stairs leaving a red stain behind him. Dragging Cass behind an obese sofa I checked her wound.

  “Goddamn it Mo, they shot me.”

  “Sure did baby girl.” Bullets struck the sofa, bursting the upholstery and filling the air with floating tufts of down.

  “Kill Sabatini, do that for me,” she said. No organs had been hit, but she was bleeding profusely. “Leave me and go get him. Damn it, Mo.”

  “Forget it kiddo, I’m not leaving you.”

  Shots thudded into the sofa and floor around us. Popping my head up multiple muzzles flashed from the stairs. We were trapped between the men outside who were firing at Gregor and the men on the stairs. A bullet took out two inches of masonry next to my head.

  Gregor spun across the hood of a Mercedes, blood bursting from his hip. He crawled for cover behind the car but bullets were raining down on him from the second story.

  The time for choosing was over. Tearing a strip from my shirt so Cass could stanch the bleeding I said, “Don’t go nowhere baby girl.” Jumping up I let out a wild war cry and charged the stairway. Firing on the run I vaulted the steps, a young man with long jet black hair fell gripping his bleeding gut. I leapt over him and kept moving. The second story hall split off in two directions. To the left I could hear the automatic fire that was being dumped down on Gregor. I ran to the door and pumped four loads of double aught through it. Their rifles went silent. Through the grapefruit sized holes I saw a man hanging limply out the window. Racking a fresh shell into the Mossberg I stormed down the hall kicking doors open. Moving into a bedroom that was bigger than my house I found three party girls in Frederick’s best huddled in the corner. Their eyes went wide when they saw me. I tried to give them a calming smile, but in my battle blood mood it must have looked like a deadly grimace, they sank farther back into the wall. A way too skinny redhead with fake tits flicked her eyes involuntarily at the bed. I rolled to my right just as flame exploded from under the bed and bullets ripped up the wall where I had been standing. From the floor I emptied the clip of my.45. I could hear the meaty thud of bullets striking the flesh I couldn’t see. Rich red ran from under the bed, mixing the smell of iron with cordite. Dropping the clip on my.45 I slapped in a fresh one and slipped it into my belt. Leaving the trembling girls, I sprinted back down the hall. In a large bathroom I heard a sound behind the shower curtain, snapping it back I found a man crumpled up in the fetal position sobbing.

  “I’m just an accountant… don’t kill me…” I did a quick pat search and came up with his wallet while he blathered on, “I have a wife and kids… I’m not one of them really…” I left him in the tub sobbing. He wasn’t Sabatini, he wasn’t even Italian. Clearing the second floor I moved back down the stairs. Outside the shooting had mostly subsided. Running to the sofa I discovered Cass was no longer there. Dread swept over me. Turning back to the room I found three bloody men aiming pistols up at me. Fuck it at least I wasn’t going out alone. Gripping my pistol in one hand and the shotgun in other I got ready for one last charge. Leo stepped out of a doorway and stood between me and the three killers. His hands were empty, palms up.

  “You are one incredible pain in the ass, you know that Mr. McGuire?” Looking natty as ever, he smiled.

  “What now Leo, do I start pulling the trigger and see how many die before your boys can drop me?”

  “As much fun as that sounds, Mr. Sabatini and your lady friend would love to have a chat with you. So why don’t we delay the whole macho blaze of glory act at least for the moment, ok?”

  I moved past the stairs and the goons with their guns aimed at me. They hated not to blow me away, their blood was as high as mine I’m sure.

  I set the shotgun down in the oak paneled hallway, but kept the.45 firmly in my hand. Leo watched me without much interest. He opened the door into a large den that would have done Hemingway proud. A lion’s head stared at me from over a fireplace. A myriad collection of other dead beasts lined the walls. Cass was sitting on a leather sofa next to a fit looking dark haired man of maybe forty. He had a sharp Roman nose and intelligent eyes that made me feel like whatever I was thinking he was two steps ahead of me. He was holding a small automatic against Cass’ temple. Leo stepped out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

  “Check and mate. I have your queen, now why don’t you put your gun down and we can see if there is any way to salvage your life,” he said in a soft, almost melodic voice.

  “I don’t think so, no, I think I’d rather blow a hole in your ugly mug.”

  “Then what? There’s a room full of guns out there waiting for you.”

  “Yup.”

  “Are you suicidal?”

  “Yup,” I
said with a slight smile, screw him if he didn’t get it.

  “But you do care about her? This little skirt. This twist that has caused so much trouble. You care about her.” He pushed the barrel harder into her head.

  “Kill him,” she whispered, she was pale from loss of blood and her eyes were starting to glaze with shock.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, “I understand your attraction, our little minx is one of the best pieces of ass I’ve ever had. But she has a real problem with loyalty.”

  “Shoot him Moses!” Cass pleaded.

  “See what I mean?” Sabatini tapped her skull with the pistol, causing her to wince. “After all she and I have shared, now she wants you to kill me.”

  “He’s lying, Moses, kill him.”

  “Truth? Shall we talk about the truth?” Sabatini said, “She came to me, offered where I could find an associate who had strayed from the pack.”

  “I didn’t.” Cass was losing gas.

  “I paid her ten large to rat out Stolloti.”

  “It was my sister.” Cass’ voice was becoming a hissed whisper. Sabatini slapped the pistol up under her chin, she let out a high gasp.

  “Hurt her again, and it’s over,” I said, starting to tighten on the trigger.

  “Even if it means my men kill you, which you have said you don’t care about, interesting problem we have here.” He turned it over in his mind looking for the angle.

  “I just figured it out, I’ve been looking at it backwards all this time,” I said smiling at him.

  “That’s a bit cryptic.”

  “I was wondering why go to all this trouble to take out one girl. So what if she saw Gino get whacked. Get rid of the hitter, cover your tracks, then who cares who she tells. You kill all of these yourself? Huh, killer?” I motioned to the trophies hung on the walls.

  “Yes. Hunting is where a man discovers his true nature.”

  “And what did you discover when you killed Gino?”

  “Always wear a raincoat when you use a shotgun at close range.”

  “That’s funny, wear a raincoat huh? I’ll have to remember that.”

  “I don’t think you will be around long enough to have to worry about remembering anything,” he said, his smile fading.

  “Really, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. You getting hungry, want to order a pizza?” I said, flashing him a shit eating grin. Cass’ eyes fluttered slowly closed. Blood had soaked through her makeshift bandage and was staining the sofa in an ever widening red blotch.

  “I don’t know what game you think you are playing,” he said, “but I can assure you, you will not win. Your kind never do, so perhaps you would like to discuss a fallback plan? One where you don’t necessarily die, maybe even keep the girl if I get certain assurances.” He was treading water, looking for my chink.

  “Here’s what I think, pal, I think you’re a dago pussy who kills defenseless animals and people your goons hold down.” His face went red, veins popping in his forehead. I let the.45 drop and hang at my side as I taunted him, “I think you’re a weak freak, a ball-less bastard who should have been stepped on at birth. You’re a spineless little…” Before I could finish he whipped the pistol off of Cass’ head swinging it toward my face. Arcing the.45 up we fired at the same moment. I could see flame spitting out of the barrel of his pistol, flying at me, then I felt a hot burn on my head that spun me backward.

  “Moses,” Cass was whimpering as I pulled myself up, crawling to the sofa. My left eye was covered in a stream of free flowing blood. Sabatini was flopped back moaning. The slug had taken a chunk the size of a small apple out of his right shoulder and smeared his chest and face in blood and meat chunks. I ran my hand up my scalp looking for the hole, half expecting to find gray matter leaking out. What I had was a three inch gash, a lot of blood and a headache, but nothing that was going to kill me today. Fastening my trusty bandana around my head to staunch the flow, pirate Moses took a seat on the sofa next to Sabatini. I grabbed his chin forcing his face to look at me.

  “Pay real close attention, you are hanging by a fucking thread here, and I’m the fucking thread. Got that you arrogant fuck?” I said, when he didn’t answer quick enough I slapped his face hard enough to knock out a loose filling. Slowly he nodded. “Who did her sister? And don’t even think about lying or I’ll make this slow.” His eyes focused on me.

  “Johny B…” he gasped.

  “The prep school boy I killed?”

  “Yes…” he said.

  “Leo? Was he in on it?”

  “No, they sent him later.”

  “Did you tell them to do her rough, maybe even have them take snaps to prove it?” He just looked at me, fear filling his rabbit eyes, he knew it was over. Slowly a new strength came into his face, as if he had known this day would come and now that it was here maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe fear of death is worse than death itself.

  “Get it over with,” he said, closing his eyes, settling back into the sofa cushions.

  “You think it’s over asshole? It’s just begun. Some hillbilly named Bubba’s gonna make you his wife, bitch,” I said. In the distance I could hear the wail of sirens. “Game’s over pal. I’m taking my pieces and going home.” I picked Cass up into my arms, she was weak and drifting, she nuzzled her face into my neck. I pushed the door open with my foot. Leo was standing guard. He looked into the room at Sabatini’s sunken form, shook his head like it was the outcome he expected. He stepped out of our way giving me a nod that told me he was no threat. From outside tires skidded to a stop and sirens screamed. There was a brief burst of gunfire then none at all.

  “Let him walk,” Leo said to the panicked mobsters in the shattered living room. From the porch I could see a Lexus was on fire. The sky was pale blue as dawn broke soft and gentle over the violent scene. Three black Suburbans full of Feds in SWAT gear swarmed over the lawns and into the house. A baby faced officer pointed an assault rifle in my face demanding I get face down. I just kept walking, luckily Sanders arrived before I was shot.

  “Jeffery Sabatini just admitted to the murder of Gino,” I said and handed him the digital recorder from my pocket.

  He took the recorder and looked at Cass. “Will she make it?”

  “She better.”

  “Medivac is five minutes out. Your big guy was hit bad.” I turned away, holding Cass to me, her breathing was shallow against my neck. I looked down over the pond, its water mirror still. I didn’t feel flushed with victory, I felt small and helpless against a world that let its most amazing flowers get trampled. A world that ate the young and spit out the bones and left the children of the battle zone to stumble blindly on searching for answers. Answers that never came, or came too late.

  Over the hills I could hear the familiar thump thump of a chopper. They set down flattening the grass around them. I ran with Cass to them, lifting her into the waiting arms of the paramedics. She didn’t want to let go of my neck, I had to pull her arms free. I wanted to kiss her goodbye but was pushed aside by a woman bent on saving her life. Two paramedics ran up with Gregor on a stretcher, his chest and left leg were tore up and bled wildly. He looked up as he passed and grinned. “Hell of a party boss, hell of a party,” he said and then closed his eyes. I stood, staring until the chopper was over the hill.

  “You were the one who turned Cass onto Sabatini,” I said. Sanders looked past me and didn’t deny it. “Your computer pimp told you about her and you saw an opening.”

  “I may have opened the door, but she walked through it willingly.” He still wasn’t meeting my eyes. “And an innocent girl died so you could make a collar. You sleeping well at night?”

  “Like a baby. There are no innocents in this game, only differing degrees of guilty.”

  “Bullshit, and you know it. So what now, are you going to keep your word and let us fade?”

  “Your tape may be enough to get Sabatini to plea out, but if it goes to trail the D.A. will want you and Bette to testify.” His fa
ce was still and emotionless, just giving me the facts.

  “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “So sue me.”

  “I don’t think so. Here’s how it’s going down, if any of my people hear from you again, the LA Times gets a package, the recording of you allowing a known felon to plant drugs and kill gangsters. I’ll give them the porno boy you let operate and tell them how you sold out a government witness you were sworn to protect.” I was guessing he had tipped Cass to Gino’s identity, hoping she would witness Gino’s death. Then to keep from being killed herself she would have to turn Sabatini in. Only she had outsmarted them all and run. The twitch developing in the corner of Sanders’ eye told me I had hit the mark. “The marshals aren’t going to be too happy that you screwed up the witness protection plan.”

  “You’ll never make it stick.” He wasn’t sounding too sure.

  “I don’t have to, the suspicion will be enough to derail any career plans you have.” I had his balls in the ringer. He could either kill me or let us walk clean. He shook his head slowly and walked past me, I followed him down to the house.

  The party was over. Sabatini was being loaded into the back of an ambulance, his face covered by an oxygen mask and his hands cuffed. His eyes locked on me for a moment and seemed to say I’ll get you yet. I just shot him the smile of a man who just didn’t give a rat’s ass. The goons not being treated were sitting down in handcuffs.

  Bob brought Leo over to Sanders, shoving him forward with a pistol in between his shoulder blades. Leo took it calmly as if it was only a speeding ticket he was facing.

  “Says he needs to speak to you,” Bob said.

  “He’s one of mine,” I told Sanders, “My inside man.” Sanders looked Leo over with undisguised disgust.

  “Fine, take the cuffs off him Bob.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” Bob told Sanders about the accountant they found in the bathtub who was pleading to sing his heart out. That put the first smile I had seen on Sanders’ face.

  “This is turning out to be a banner day,” he said as he and Bob went off to talk to the accountant.