by Dan Taylor
Regan snaps. “Oh for God’s sake, Omar, Jake wants to smoke a cigar with you outside. As some sort of rite-of-passage ritual or some shit.”
Omar grins. “Why didn’t you just say so? I love those things.”
I look at Regan, who’s surprised as I am.
I stand up. “Okay, Omar. Let’s do this thing.”
Omar heads to the front entrance.
“Not that way, out back. The cigars are Cuban.”
“Groovy.” The word sounds alien coming out of Omar’s mouth.
Omar leads the way, and we go through the back entrance, out to a back alley.
The woman from the arguing couple is pacing out back.
Omar stops and looks at me. “Well.”
I start patting my pockets, glancing behind Omar as I do, wondering where Leo’s men are.
“I can’t find them. Just a moment.”
Omar makes for the door. “You might’ve left them inside. Let me go and check.”
“No! Wait, I haven’t checked all my pockets yet.”
“Okay.”
I stall as long as I can, but it’s becoming obvious they’re not in any of my pockets. “You don’t happen to have them, do you, Omar?”
The girl is watching us, thinking about coming over.
Omar says, “I think I would remember you giving me them, Jake.”
The girl comes over. “Say, you guys aren’t going to smoke a joint, are you?” She looks at Omar, then averts her eyes.
I say, “No, I’m looking for cigars.”
“Oh, because I could really do with a toke right now. But a lighter will do.” She holds up the cigarette.
“Good idea! Let me try and find that.”
I start searching my pockets again, as Omar and the girl watch me.
“I think I can feel it one of my pockets, but for the life of me I can’t find it.”
“This is silly, Jake. I know why you asked me to come outside.”
Both I and the girl look at Omar.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” He starts rolling up his sleeves.
“What are you doing, Omar?”
“You wanted to find out who is the stronger man.” Omar turns to the girl. “If you don’t mind.”
She shrugs her shoulders.
“Omar, that isn’t why I asked you out here. I really do want to smoke a cigar with you. You know, passing the torch.”
The girl interrupts. “Speaking of torches, where’s that lighter?”
Omar unrolls his sleeves. Two dark figures are approaching behind them.
“Wait just one second.” I pretend there’s a pocket halfway down my trouser leg, start patting it down. “Here they are. What a dummy.”
Next time I look up, the two figures are behind Omar and the girl, and they whack both of them on the noggin. The girl goes down, but Omar only staggers.
The two dark figures, both wearing balaclavas, look at each other. One says, “Hit him again.”
The second one does the job.
I watch with cold interest as the dark figures drag them away. Just as Omar and the girl are being dragged into the black van parked at the end of the alley, Regan appears in the doorway.
“Jake, what the hell have you done?”
20.
YOU’RE PROBABLY WONDERING the same thing as Regan. Not about Omar. I know you knew about that. But about the girl.
Did I time it so that when Leo’s guys arrived, all three of us would be outside? Also knowing full well that they’d mistake the random girl for Regan? I’ll leave you to decide that yourself.
You’re no dummy.
Then why did I ask Regan to go in the bathroom, make it look like she crawled through the window and escaped? Any moment they’re going to figure out that isn’t Regan. That van’s going to come back, drop off a screaming, confused, nicotine-deficient firecracker, all elbows and a lot of bark and bite. Then they’ll search this place high and low.
They’ll notice the open window, hopefully assume what I hope they’re going to assume, that Regan’s hightailed it like a girl who’s just gotten her first period in the middle of the prom dance floor.
Regan interrupts my thinking. “What the hell have you done, you son of a bitch?”
“I don’t have time to explain. Run like hell!”
It doesn’t have the desired effect. Regan waits with her hands on her lips, all searing eyes and sassiness. “Well?”
“I did what we planned…”
She looks to the sky, sighs heavily. “What you planned, maybe.”
I thought it was pretty obvious. “What did you think I invited him out here for, a tickling contest?”
She goes to speak, hesitates. “I don’t know…I thought you were maybe going to get Omar to phone the guys who we’re in trouble with. You know, iron out all the creases.”
I go to Regan, try and pull her inside by her elbow. She doesn’t budge an inch. “Really? You didn’t note the seriousness in my voice?” I shake my head. “And this situation’s beyond Omar’s diplomatic skills. We need to get out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Who were they, and where have they taken Omar?”
I try pulling her again. This time Regan slaps me. “There’s no need for that.”
“I’ll decide whether there’s a need for it, Mr.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Act like my mom.”
She slaps me again.
“Okay, fuck! Truth is, I don’t know where they’re taking Omar. But we’re going to get him back. I have a plan.”
When I take her by the elbow this time, she follows me. We’re not running like hell, but it’s progress.
She says, “You…you always have a plan.”
21.
WE GO THROUGH the back entrance, walk past the boyfriend of the girl who I just got abducted. He’s glancing behind him, watching out for her. In his hand is the lighter.
Regan says, “Shouldn’t we say something?”
“Like what?”
“Like, tell him his girlfriend has just been taken?”
“What would that solve?”
We’re nearly at the front entrance. She stops. “I’m going over there.”
“Don’t. We’ll never get out if you do. Think he’ll let you make it short and sweet? About his girlfriend being taken?”
“Good point. But still…”
“Tell you what, if it gets your butt out that door, I’ll phone the bar when we’re a safe distance away, leave an anonymous message.”
“That’ll work.” She starts moving again. I think of something, but I’m going to wait until we’re in the cab before I say it.
Outside is the cab I phoned for earlier when in the bar.
I get in, but Regan remains on the sidewalk. So I get out, tell Ibrahim to wait.
I say, “What is it?”
“I’m not getting into any strange cars after what just happened to Omar.”
“This is isn’t a strange car. This is a cab, which my friend Ibrahim is driving.”
“Ibrahim?”
Regan stoops, looks in the cab. Ibrahim waves, grins. Regan returns to an upright position, raises an eyebrow, says, “Hell no!”
“What?”
“I don’t like the look of that guy.”
I shake my head. “Regan, any moment now, the van that Omar was taken away in is going to pull up, the girl they mistakenly took will be thrown out, and some mean guys are going to get out. They’ll be looking to take you instead, and then my whole plan goes to shit.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “So that’s all you care about? Your plan?”
I sigh. “No, of course I care about your wellbeing too.”
She seems hesitant.
So I add, “And they’ve got really big guns.”
“Okay, I’m getting in.”
We climb into the cab.
Ibrahim says, “Jake, my friend. Two times in one night. At
this rate, I’ll have to put you on speed dial.”
“Hi, Ibrahim.” I think a second. “That doesn’t make any sense. As the customer, I’m the one who phones you.”
“Oh yeah.” Ibrahim laughs, then he looks in the rearview mirror at Regan, who’s got her arms crossed over her breasts. “And who’s your lovely date for the night.”
Regan scowls.
I say, “This is my ex-wife, Regan.”
“Pleased to meet you, Regan.”
She doesn’t answer, just stares out the window, mouthing swear words.
“Where to, Jake?”
We need a place they wouldn’t expect us to go, and somewhere crowded and with heavy security. It’s not ideal, and I’m pretty sure Regan’s not going to like it. But I find it a great place to think. I told Regan I have a plan, but I was getting a little ahead of myself. I have an outline, at least, but saying that wasn’t exactly going to get her butt moving.
A driver behind us honks his horn.
Ibrahim says, “Jake?”
“Okay, yeah, can you take us to Jingle Jangles?”
“Can you repeat that, Jake? I thought you said Jingle Jangles.”
Ibrahim’s not making it easy for me. “That’s what I said.”
He starts driving.
After a minute, Regan asks, “What’s Jingle Jangles?”
I go to speak, but Ibrahim gets there first. “It’s an exotic dancing place.” God knows why he does it, but he grins a stupid grin, then he gives me a thumbs-up.
Regan asks, “What, like belly dancing or something?”
I say, “Exactly. Like belly dancing.”
We sit in silence a minute.
Then Regan says, “We’re going to a strip club, aren’t we.”
“We kind of are.”
“Ibrahim, let me out! I’ll take my chances on my own.”
The car starts to slow.
“Don’t slow down, Ibrahim.”
“I can’t believe at a time like this you want to go and stare at some tits.” She unfolded her arms a couple minutes ago, but now she reasserts their position over her breasts. “Every time we meet, you go further down in my estimations.”
“It’s not like that. The place has heavy security, and it’s crowded—meaning there’s no way Leo’s guys would go in there to get us.”
“Who’s Leo?”
“I’ll get to him when we’re there.”
“Aren’t there loads of places that fit the bill in Hollywood?”
I pretend to think a moment. “Not that I can think of.”
Ibrahim butts in. “I can think of a few places, Jake.”
“Keep your eyes on the road, Ibrahim!”
“I did, Jake.”
“If you’re talking, you’re not concentrating.”
“Okay, sir.”
Regan, accepting her fate, starts staring out the window again.
She’s only silent a minute. “Aren’t you going to make the anonymous phone call to the bar? Let the guy know his girlfriend’s been taken?”
“Yeah…about that.”
She turns to me. Now she’s really pissed. “You are going to make the call, aren’t you, Jake?”
“I thought about it, but no.”
“No?”
“The last thing we need is for some guy phoning the cops about this. Leo said explicitly to not phone them.”
“So that poor guy is just going to wait around, worrying about her?”
“He’ll probably just think she’s gone home. They were having an argument.”
“I don’t know how you sleep at night. I really don’t.”
“Anyway, those guys are going to let her go any minute, if they haven’t already.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s a hunch.”
“A hunch isn’t knowing.”
“Call it an educated guess.”
“Can’t you phone that Leo guy and tell him he’s got the wrong girl?”
“The phone he gave me only receives calls.”
Ibrahim butts in again. “You can use my phone again if you want.”
“Ibrahim, eyes on the road!”
“Sorry, sir.”
Regan says, “So you’re just going to leave some random girl in peril, for no reason?”
“It’s not for no reason. The longer they think she’s the right girl, the longer we have before they come looking for us.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re selfish, Jake?”
“These guys have kidnapped Mary and Randy. I’m trying to get them back, on top of getting back my ex-wife’s future husband. And some colleague I’ve never met. I’d hardly call that selfish.”
Regan softens. “You didn’t tell me they had Mary and Randy?”
“Didn’t I?”
“I think I’d remember that.”
“Well, they do.”
She slides nearer to me, puts her hand on my knee. Comforting me. “Aw, Jake. You should’ve said something.”
“Just let me think, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll stop talking.”
“Not that.” I remove her hand.
Regan knows me too well. She looks down at my crotch. “Jake Hancock…!”
“That’s a perfectly normal biological response to that situation.”
“What, a boner born out of sympathy? Yeah, real normal.”
I don’t respond.
I put my mind to the task, stare through the windshield.
I notice Regan keeps glancing at me. At a certain part of me.
She whispers, “It’s still there.”
“Stop looking at it. That’s why.”
“I can’t help it. It’s just…sticking around.” She leans in closer, and I can feel her breath vibrating my eardrum as she whispers, “You upped your cardio or something?”
“That’s not helping, Regan. It takes a lot of blood to fill that thing. And right now I need it in my brain.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I look at her and she’s biting her bottom lip.
I say, “You need to keep your mind on Omar, and I need to keep my mind on Mary.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Not like that.”
“Good, because that would be sick.”
The cell I was given starts ringing, rescuing me from this madness. I take it out of my pocket, and Regan slides away from me, huffs like a petulant teenager.
“Jake,” I answer.
“Good work, Jake. I don’t know how you did it, but consider me impressed.” It’s Leo.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, truly sterling work, Jake. Now on to task two.”
Seems I’ve moved away from one madness to another. “What do you mean?”
“Are you suffering from amnesia, Jake, or just fucking with me? You helped us get Regan and Omar. Just now.”
“Have you spoken to your guys, the ones that abducted them?”
“We were the guys, Terry and me.”
Regan’s stopped sulking. She’s listening intently. She mouths, “What’s happening?”
I hold a finger up, indicating I want a minute before answering.
To Leo, I say, “So you think you have Omar and Regan?”
“I know we do. They denied it at first, but we can be persuasive. We smacked them around a little, and then they told us the truth.”
“So Omar and the girl denied that she’s Regan, you pistol whipped them or whatever, and now both are saying that she’s Regan?”
“No. I didn’t pistol whip them. Terry just slapped them around a little. And Omar denied he’s Omar and that Regan’s Regan.”
“The girl?”
“Why do you keep on saying that?”
I could play along, which would’ve been easier, if they hadn’t phoned. But Leo calling has changed the ball game. Soon enough they’re going to figure out that she’s not Regan. Then they’ll be really pissed at me, after having the opportunity to tell them differently.
Which wouldn’t be good for Mary and Randy. So the sooner the better.
I say, “Because she’s not Regan. She’s just some random girl who happened to come out back at the same time as Omar and me. Regan was on her way. You guys acted too quickly.”
He laughs. “Nice try, Jake. I don’t know what you’re trying to do here—get some leverage or some shit, I don’t know—but it’s not going to work on me. I’m too clever for that.”
Clearly.
“Leo, listen to me. Regan is sitting beside me. That girl who you think is Regan is just some girl who came out to bum a light off someone out back. And that someone happened to be me.”
There’s silence a moment.
I think I can hear Omar crying.
Then Leo speaks. “Then why are both of them now saying that she’s Regan?”
“Because of your persuasion tactics. Slap them around enough and they’ll tell you they have pet giraffes, but that doesn’t make it so.”
Silence again. When Leo comes back, he’s pissed. “Nice work, Jake! Now I’m really impressed. Cute little trick you played there.”
“I didn’t play any trick. As I said, Regan was on her way out. She just needed to…powder her nose first.”
He lowers his voice. “Okay, Jake. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. We’ll slap the girl around some more, put the fear of God into her, tell her that if she fingers us to some cop, we’ll burn her family or whatever. We’ll let her go, and then we’ll come and pick up Regan. We can forget this business ever happened. How does that sound, buddy?”
“The first part sounds good, apart from the slapping around and the family-burning stuff. But you can forget about getting Regan so easily. I want Mary and Randy released first. Then I’ll do whatever you need me to do so Cole Baxter gets released.”
“Not going to happen, Jake. I know you don’t give two shits about Cole. Guy says you two don’t even know each other.”
“That’s not true, and of course he would say that. We go fishing all the time. You know, supping away at a six pack by a lake. Best-buddy stuff.”
“You paint quite the picture, but I don’t believe it, not even for a second. So, seems as though you’re going to use Regan as leverage, and we’re going to use Mary and Randy as leverage. Might look to you like we’re teeing off with the same handicap, but that’s not the case. I could phone my guy in Africa, tell him we did half the job, and that we’re going to do the rest at some later date. Regan can’t hide forever. And know what the result of that will be?”
