Disk of Death

by Kim Smith

  We climbed into my old Betsy. As we peeled out onto Greenman Road, a police cruiser turned into the park with lights on and siren going. I guessed gunfire in the park at sunset was a good way to get people dialing 911.

  When we arrived at my apartment complex and found a parking slot, Dwayne announced that he needed clothes.

  “You can’t leave me. He’s going to really be looking for me now.”

  “Then you can drive me over to the trailer.”

  I must have looked as torn as I felt.

  “Scout’s honor, Wall-ass. I won’t be fifteen minutes. You wanna go with me?” His face was an innocent mask.

  “No, I’m tired and rattled, and I want to sit down and do nothing for a while. The cop babysitter should be here soon.”

  “Okay then. You should be fine for fifteen minutes, right?”

  I tried to look unconvinced, but he didn’t take the bait.

  “Don’t forget to lock up tight. You want me to come look inside?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s fine. He hasn’t had time to do anything like break into my apartment. And I bet he’ll pick a better time.”

  “Okay. Well, keep your stuff out and ready anyway.” He opened the car door and slid out. “My ass is wet from that all that damn George of the Jungle shit.”

  I climbed out of my side of the car and watched as he swiped at his clothes.

  “You did good coming out of that tree,” I said.

  He grunted and went around to his Mustang. I stood by Betsy’s trunk. He gave me a questioning look as if to ask one more time if I would be okay.

  I waved him away. He saluted me, then climbed in and drove off.

  I slung my tote over my shoulder and stuck my gun dangerously in the waistband of my jeans. I kept a hand on it to keep it from going anywhere. The pepper spray stayed in the car. I couldn’t use it and a gun. I hoped I wouldn’t blow my kneecaps off climbing the stairs.

  The cop babysitter turned into the driveway and silently slid into a parking slot. I did a finger wave and smiled at him before trudging up to my apartment. As I turned the corner to start for my door, a figure detached itself from the inky blackness of the stairwell on the opposite side.

  “Now,” Green said. “We can finish our little discussion.”

  I fumbled trying to pull my gun out. It got caught on my shirt, and I almost dropped it. “Oh, shit!”

  He jammed his gun barrel into my ribs and pulled the pistol slowly out of my hands. “Give me that, nice and easy.”

  He tucked it into his waistband and laughed as he wrapped his free arm around my neck, pulling me backwards toward him. Stars glittered behind my eyeballs for a moment as he tightened his grip. He put his gun to my temple.

  “Those cops are worthless unless you call them, and you won’t be calling them, will you?”

  “Let go. You’re choking me,” I coughed.

  He loosened his hold just a little and forced me to the door. “Open it.”

  “I have to get to my keys. They’re in my bag.”

  He pinned me against the door with his knee in my back. Then, he pulled the tote strap off my shoulder. I could hear him digging through it trying to find the keys. It wasn’t hard. I had them on a huge keyring with lots of gadgets. I moved a little, testing to see if he had a good hold on me. The pain of his bony knee in my spine increased until my eyes watered.

  When he finally had the keyring, he handed it to me, removing his knee. “No funny stuff, Ms. Wallace.”

  He returned the gun to my head. I had never had so much trouble with a key before in my life. It was like one of those scary movies where the actors try to get in the house before the werewolf or vampire gets them. My hand shook so bad the key wouldn’t go in. I tried three times.

  He dug the gun harder into my temple. “Take a deep breath and do it.”

  I followed his suggestion and was amazed at what oxygen did for me. The key slid in the lock on the first try.

  He pushed the door open and shoved me inside, slamming it behind us.

  “Get over there,” he snarled, waving the gun at the couch. He tossed my tote onto the edge of it.

  “What are you going to do?”

  His eyes became slits, and I knew I was in trouble.

  “Oh, it’ll be loads of fun. You’re hotter than a hooker.”

  Hatred fill me. It swirled over me colder than any other emotion I had ever felt. All of my memories of Rick and Joe and how this jerk had cut short their futures rushed through my mind. It chilled me into instant clarity.

  I was going to make him awfully sorry he’d said that.

  I turned on him. “Yeah? I’ll bet that’s what you say to all the girls. What did you do to your secretary for sending off the wrong SD card to Rick? That was pure stupidity of you to leave it lying around, wasn’t it?”

  “Stop it,” he said, pointing the gun at my midsection.

  “Don’t worry, I’m more careful than you were. I didn’t leave it where anyone would find it. But you know what? Why don’t you just go on,” I taunted, strolling toward him. “Shoot me.”

  “Where is the-”

  “Shoot me! Fucking shoot me! You sorry good for nothing, bastard…” Now I flat out ran at him, head lowered like a bull. I figured it was the hardest part of my body, and if he shot me there, I wouldn’t suffer.

  Shocked, he didn’t have time to react. I guess no one ever told him girls could fight. Thank God for Aunt Nancy.

  At the last possible second, he fired off one shot, which lodged in my ceiling. My head met his belly and he fell backwards. There was a sickening crunch when his head hit the door. Stunned, he lay there long enough for me to wrestle the gun out of his hand and grab my own from his waistband.

  “Don’t move!” I yelled full of adrenaline. “You’re dead, you bastard. Dead! Do you hear me?”

  Completely out of control, I raised both guns to fire, but there was a perverse part of me that wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. I landed the kick right in the groin, family jewels be damned. Strangely, he didn’t move, never even attempted to protect himself. Something was wrong with him, but a crying jag hit me. Tears obscured my vision, and I couldn’t see him anymore.

  The doorbell rang, and I swiped at the tears. “Help!” I yelled. And someone kept yelling when blood appeared smearing the white paint of my door as Dwayne pushed it open. Green’s body slid sideways at an odd angle. Dwayne finally made it inside and grabbed me. The yelling stopped. It had been me all along.

  Dwayne moved me away from the door, blocking my view of Green with his body. I shook so violently that Dwayne had to sit me down on the floor before I fell.

  He held my head to make me look at him. “Shannon. Shannon, listen to me, damn it. Listen. Are you listening? Get your cell phone and call 911. Go. Do it now.” He let go of me and moved to check Green’s pulse.

  I sat there, like I’d been made into a block of ice. The guns held loosely in my lap like toys.

  Dwayne shot me a look over his shoulder. “Come on Wall-ass, pull it together. His voice sounded like he was pleading, but I didn’t move.

  “Girl, move your ass and do it now!” he screamed at me. Something in his voice made me snap out of it. I got to my knees, dropped the guns on the ground, and crawled over to where my bag lay on the couch. I upended it, digging through the contents until I found my cell phone and hit 911.

  While I listened to the rings, Dwayne started chest compressions on Green. After I requested police and paramedics, I calmly suggested that he let the creep die.

  “No way. He fucking didn’t tell you where your card was, did he?” he answered, pinching Green’s nose closed and preparing to give him mouth-to-mouth.

  After the ambulance left with Green barely alive from what appeared to be a broken neck and maybe a fractured skull, I dropped onto the couch. With my hands between my legs to quell the shaking, I explained again to Sal what happened.

  He took notes in a white spiral notebook, saying nothing.
When he finished, he walked into the kitchen and talked with another officer. The door opened and Officer Blalock entered the living room.

  He shook his head. “You know I lost the bet.”

  “Huh?”

  “The bet? You know? We all had a bet going as to whether you would end up killing him or just maiming him.”

  “Ha. You lost? That means you were betting I would kill him.”

  “Yeah,” he smiled. “Figured you’d do him in just for messing up your place.”

  I nodded. “Good reason, wouldn’t you say?”

  He grinned and walked into the kitchen. I started in there to see what the big powwow was about, but Dwayne came out and stopped me.

  “They’re leaving soon. Do you want to stay at my trailer for the night?”

  I thought about it. Staying with him would be a good way to get some sleep. My apartment had become one big violated mess.

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Want me to throw some of your stuff in a bag?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll do it. Your Granny would be mighty pissed if you handled my unmentionables.”

  He laughed. “She’d be more pissed if she knew the unmentionables I handle on a regular basis.”

  I snickered. “By the way, I’ll get your money tomorrow.”

  “What money?” Dwayne asked, confused. I hadn’t forgotten, but he obviously had.

  “That ‘help me’ money, Dee. You earned every cent.”

  It was almost midnight when I no longer gritted my teeth or flexed my fists. I curled up on Dwayne’s couch dressed in a dorm shirt and socks and wrapped in a flannel blanket. Dwayne made hot green tea with cream and sugar, just the way I like it.

  He lolled in the recliner, drank beer, and told me funny stories. My mind worked overtime though, and I missed some of what he said. My cell phone sat right by my elbow, and I kept glancing at it, hoping I could will it to ring. It didn’t.

  Finally, Dwayne tired of trying to entertain me and flipped on the television.

  A breaking news report was on telling about the attack on me by Levi Green. The story proclaimed by a heavily made-up Charlotte Dillon said he was in serious condition at the hospital. When had she made it to television news? I felt completely out of touch.

  The report ended, and they went to a commercial. A quick showroom flash and a spiel about quality furnishings at Fine, Fine, Fine Furniture.

  I sipped the cooling tea. “Please turn it off.”

  Dwayne flipped the station until one of the kid’s channels came into view.

  “There, that should be safe enough. I wish I had Shrek on DVD. You would love the donkey dude.”

  I didn’t answer. My cell phone began vibrating. In my haste, I missed the edge of the table with my teacup, dropping it and making a mess.

  It was the Mamas calling, worried about me.

  “I promise to come over to see you tomorrow and stay for dinner,” I told Nancy. They were satisfied with that. In the middle of mopping up the tea mess, my phone rang again. It was Sal.

  “Hello?”

  “We got his prints.”

  “And?”

  “He’s our guy.”

  A loud sob escaped my lips, and I dropped the phone as I collapsed into a puddle of hysterical crying.

  Chapter 21

  It had been a month since Green attacked me. He’d been identified as Rick’s and Joe’s killer through the modern technology of forensic science. Part of it I wasn’t privy to, but I felt sure he’d been dumb enough to leave a fingerprint behind. Not that it mattered much. He’d remained unconscious and died a few days after arriving at the hospital. I couldn’t make myself feel sorry for my part in his death, but at some point, that detail would come back to haunt me.

  Fall whispered on the horizon. I stood looking out the window, watching the kids walk past the apartments on their way to school. The temperatures had fallen into the seventies, and I considered taking a run in the park or trying to find a tennis partner. Fall always made me want to move my body before the long cold days of winter set in.

  The old fear of my disk or disks being found by the police and maybe, ultimately, being viewed by strangers or even worse, my aunts, returned. I wished I could find them. It was likely too late, though. They were probably already in police custody.

  I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. I needed to prepare myself for the eventuality that they would surface someday soon. I needed to steel my heart and my mind. I needed to have a plan for what I would do then.

  I gazed out at the world again.

  I needed to resume living.

  Aside from eating at the Mamas’ house or signing papers for the police, I hadn’t stepped foot out of my apartment. And all those times had been done under duress. Katie had returned from Ireland, and had come by to visit, but I was asleep. I promised her that we would get together soon. She understood, or at least she said she did.

  Dwayne spent an abundance of time at South Lake Police Department these days. We talked every day, and I tried to drag out of him what he was doing, but he acted mysterious and said I would see soon enough.

  I turned from my window-watching and plopped down on the couch for another round of television court drama. My cell rang, and I considered not answering. I didn’t want company, and I didn’t want to have to make sparkling conversation. The display showed Dwayne’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “You mind if I come over?”

  “I don’t know Dwayne. I’m sort of busy.” The television blared. He’d never buy it.

  “Come on Wall-ass,” Dwayne said on the other end. “I have something to show you. I won’t stay long.”

  If it had been anyone else, I would have pointedly said no. As it was, I owed him too much for that. “Okay, but really, let’s make it fast.”

  He agreed and hung up.

  In the short time it took for him to drive over, I threw on clean jeans and a Vikings jersey and twisted my hair up into a clip. I knew it looked ratty, and needed cutting, but it was only Dwayne, so I didn’t care.

  When he arrived, he knocked on the door, and it sounded like he used a hockey stick. The loud rat-a-tat shook me to my shoes with its irritating noise.

  I opened the door, and he strolled through, laden with an armload of miscellaneous electronic equipment, two laptops, a mini camcorder, and cables and cords.

  “What’s that?”

  He grinned. “Video stuff.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “And what are you doing with it?”

  “This ain’t all of it,” he assured me, dumping it on my couch. “The rest is in my car trunk.”

  “I repeat, what are you doing with it?”

  “It’s our new business.”

  A shotgun blast would have been softer.

  “What? Our new business? I thought you worked alone. And if you think-”

  He cut me off. “Think? I don’t think girl, I know. You can’t be livin’ under a burnt bridge not one more day. Life goes on. You and me are goin’ into business. I already have the plans made.”

  I stifled the urge to remind him of my sucky luck as I poked through the pile of equipment and wires.

  “Where’d you get all this stuff?”

  “Green.”

  I saw lights flash before my eyes and heard the roar of a tornado. “How could you have done that? He’s—”

  “Dead. Yeah, I know. Believe me. I went with Sal to Green’s office downtown, near the river. He told me that after due process we could probably buy all grisly dude’s stuff for a good price. I waited until the auction came up and voila! Here it is.”

  “And what do you want it for? I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

  “Weddings, of course. Or corporate. Maybe even surveillance. That is my specialty you know.”

  Old Sir Vaylance. His middle name. Of course. “So you’re still going to be a big investigator?”

  “Hell to the naw. We’re going into the videography bus
iness.”

  I sat down on the edge of the couch and glanced up at him. He was serious.

  “I’m getting too damned used to your wild schemes. You might be nutty, but you’re good,” he told me, with a toss of his hand.

  I guess I didn’t look convinced.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Anyway, I thought you liked being filmed.”

  I gasped before slapping at him. He dodged the poorly aimed punch, so I kicked at him.

  “That was low, Brown. Loooow.”

  “That’s awright, Wall-ass. We gonna get you behind the camera this time, and you’ll be a real star. Get your name etched in digital zeros and ones.”

  He scuttled backward like a rat, grabbing at the door when he reached it. “Gotta get the rest. Don’t go nowhere.”

  I gaped at the empty place where he’d stood. He’d effectively taken care of all my problems in one fell swoop. I had a job. I had a life. I had a reason to get up each day.

  Strange how things turned around.

  The man responsible for my upheaval was dead, and his most valued possessions were now in my living room. There was a little justice in that.

  Curiosity caused me to walk to the window and watch Dwayne as he unloaded his car. Arms laden with more equipment, he waddled back to the stairs and came up.

  Besides the ton of small items that he carried, he toted a sign under one arm. I pulled it from him. It was brilliant royal blue with bright white lettering, and adorned with angel wings painted with glittery iridescent paint that winked at me as I turned it up to the light.

  “Video Angels?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Shaft and Shadow. Avenging angels, helper of all. Have camera, we’ll grovel. Hell, it’s all your idea anyway.”

  My heart swelled with pride. He had been busy putting in hard work on behalf of us both while I tried to gain normalcy. He’d included me, and although it would seem strange to another, he’d left me out. That wasn’t done out of simple friendship but out of shared experience.

  I wiped the tears running down both cheeks, and fixed my gaze on the sign.

  “Partners,” I whispered.

  “Damn Skippy,” he answered. I heard the soft whir of a camera and looked up to see the blinking red light.