by Jack Young
“Okay, but did Clark owe anything to Brady or McIntosh?”
“Not from what I can tell, but he was killed along with Marcus Randolph who, yep, you guessed it, owed money to Brady, who must’ve tasked out McIntosh for this hit, and who does he send? Carlyle.”
“Doesn’t explain why Clark was supposed to deliver the money.”
Jacobs nodded. “I got that one covered, too. Randolph saved Clark from bankruptcy a while back, so he probably held that favor over Clark’s head until he needed him for something. He tells Clark to deliver the bag. Clark isn’t dumb, so he sends Evans who he knows has a knack for getting out of dangerous situations.”
Most of it was making sense to Joe. “The guys in the van?”
“Sent to kill all of them, so no one talks.”
“But, if it all worked out as planned, the money would’ve been destroyed.”
“True. Maybe, it really wasn’t about the money.”
Joe laughed. “You’re shitting me, right? Money is everything to these guys.”
“Probably would’ve been chalked up to a business loss or to just send a message. ‘Don’t fuck with us or this will happen to you.’ Something like that could save them money later in the long run.”
“Damn, Papa Bear. You’ve outdone yourself.”
Jacobs did a little bow. “Maybe you should try calling your brother now and see if he can give us some more insight on Carlyle. I know I said not to worry about it, but I think now’s a better time.”
Joe pulled out his cellphone and found the number he was looking for on the speed dial. He pressed the number and waited to hear the ringing. The phone only rang twice before it was answered. “Hey. What’s up?”
It had been a while since Joe heard his brother voice, but hearing it just then made him smile. “Hey, little brother. How are you?”
“I’m good. Is there a reason you’re calling during the business day? Usually, we talk in the evenings or on weekends.”
Joe laughed a little. “Okay. You got me. I, uh, have a question about an old friend of yours actually.”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“Davy Carlyle.”
There was a pause on the phone. Joe was looking at Jacobs and could see the suspense building in his eyes. Joe could hear his brother let out a long breath. “What about him, Joe?”
“What can you tell me about him. I really didn’t know him when you two were hanging out together.”
“We didn’t hang out that long though.”
Joe nodded as he began to remember that all of a sudden, he didn’t hear about Davy or see him around Danny anymore. “What can you tell me about him though?”
“Nothing good. Why?”
“Well, what happened back then? Why did you two stop hanging out?”
“I found out he was a killer.”
Joe almost dropped his cell phone when Danny confirmed what he suspected the whole time.
23.
Paden was lost in his thoughts as Davy drove them from the farmhouse. They were both silent, but Davy didn’t look how Paden felt. Paden was queasy, feeling like he was out of it. He just shot and killed two men in cold blood. He thought back to that moment hours before and although he felt queasy, he wasn’t sad or mad at himself for doing it. Those two guys were responsible for Joanne’s death and they deserved to die.
Davy didn’t drive them straight back to town. He drove them the long way back taking a bunch of back roads. He said he didn’t want to have any type of run in with cops before they got back home. When they did arrive back in town, Paden rolled down his window a bit to let in some fresh air. The cool breeze felt good on his face. The streets were nearly bare as they stopped at a stop sign where Paden closed his eyes and listened to the stillness of town. As the sun was beginning to rise, Paden saw a few people out doing their morning rituals. From where they were stopped, he could see a few older gentlemen through the windows at the McDonalds drinking coffee. The store Davy worked at had a few cars in its parking lot and across the way from it was a Starbucks whose parking lot he pulled into.
Paden pointed to the Starbucks and store. “Do you need groceries or something?”
“No. A strong cup of coffee.” Davy took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know, man, but strong coffee seems like the thing to have right now. I’m buying. What are you having?”
Paden laughed. “You know, I never thought about it. I don’t normally drink coffee from Starbucks. What’s your go-to?”
Davy shrugged. “I’ve only gone here a handful of times, so I don’t really have a certain kind to drink. All I know is they don’t spike the coffee here and I could use a little enhancement to my coffee after what we just did.”
“Really? You seemed pretty relaxed a little bit ago.”
Davy shut off the car. “Just tired. Coming down from the adrenaline rush. Doesn’t mean I’m not on edge.”
“That’s good to know. I’m pretty much following your lead here, man.”
“I don’t have a special plan for anything I do. I take the job, do the job, and then try to put it behind me.
“And that works?”
“Fuck no. I remember every job like this last one, in detail. Shit keeps me awake most of the time.”
“And yet you keep doing it. Why?”
“Man, after that first one there was no turning back for me. I got in with Big John who found work for me while I was still in school. Targets never expected a kid to come for them. When I graduated, Big John gave me other jobs, not just hits. When my classmates were off to college or the military, I was doing hold ups, assaults, vandalizing homes and businesses. I never really saw myself doing anything else.”
“And you never went to jail?”
“A couple times. For one of the assaults I did, I spent a week in jail before the charges were dropped. You?”
“Jail?”
“Yeah.”
“Once. Way back when I was in the Army.”
“What did you go to jail for?”
Paden laughed at the memory. “Sounds fucking unoriginal, but a bar fight.”
“Did you clean house?”
“I held my own. It was a Friday night and the arresting cop went to basic with my platoon sergeant, so it wasn’t too bad. Just had to spend a night.”
It was Davy’s turn to laugh. “Yeah. That sounds like something from a TV show.”
“Could’ve been worse, I suppose.”
“True.”
Paden made the first move to exit the truck. “They got a bakery here, too. I just realized I’m pretty fucking hungry.”
Davy nodded as they both made their way to the coffee shop. Inside, an old Matchbox Twenty song was playing. “Fuck. I’ve always hated these guys.”
Ten people stood in line for coffee and one twenty-year-old looking redheaded girl worked the register while an older woman who was either Hispanic or Native American made the orders. Normally, Paden didn’t like to wait and would suggest they leave, but he had nowhere else to go at the moment and a cup coffee did sound pretty good.
The two women worked swiftly and it was soon Paden’s turn. In his mind, he had this idea of ordering some big, fancy-sounding type of coffee, but settled on a Venti caramel latte with two shots of espresso. Davy ordered a black coffee. Paden pointed at Davy’s coffee. “Just a regular coffee?”
Davy nodded. “Yep.”
“For almost three bucks?”
“Yep.”
This made Paden laugh. They also ordered some doughnuts and found a table to sit at to drink their coffees and eat their snack. Paden agreed that his latte needed a shot of whiskey. Since he didn’t have any, he blew on it to cool it off and ate a doughnut while it did. Soon, the doughnuts were gone and the coffees cooled off enough to drink quick. When his cup was empty, Paden stood to throw it and the empty plate for the doughnuts away in the nearby trash can. As he did this, he saw two men enter the Starbucks and recognized them as the two detectives who were on the scene when
Joanne was killed. He looked for somewhere to run, but there wasn’t any way around them and the door. He knew they were there looking for him and probably Davy. It was too coincidental for them all to be in the same place and Paden didn’t believe in coincidences.
The big, black, older detective spoke first. “There you are, Evans.”
Paden looked around. “Were you looking for me?”
“Maybe.” The older detective nodded towards the door he walked in from. “The hospital said you left before you were officially discharged.”
Paden nodded. “What can I tell you? I got better.”
The younger detective chin-pointed towards Davy. “Davy Carlyle. ‘Sup?”
Davy returned the chin-point. “‘Sup, Joe?”
“Not much, but since we’re all here, why don’t you two come take a little ride with us.”
Davy stood and threw away his cup. “Why the hell not.”
The whole moment seemed too relaxed to Paden, but he still left with the other three. Neither one of them were cuffed, but they did sit in the back seat next to each other. The younger detective, Joe, looked at them. “Been awhile hasn’t it, Davy.”
Davy nodded. “Yep.”
Joe turned in the passenger seat more so he could look at Davy. “You still talk to my brother any?”
Davy shook his head. “Nope.”
“Yeah. Same here. Just around birthdays and holidays.”
Davy looked out the window and Paden figured he was done talking. He pointed down the road with a hand. “Why do you need to take us for a ride?”
It was the older detective’s turn to speak. “Just some questions we need to ask you is all.”
Paden looked at Davy who was looking out his window. “Do we need lawyers or anything?”
Joe looked at Paden. “You think you do?”
Paden shook his head. “No. Just you two came at us out of the blue is all.”
Joe shrugged. “Well, some shit’s come up and we thought maybe the two of you could help.”
Davy elbowed Paden. “Don’t waste your time. We don’t need to talk to these two.”
Joe looked at Davy. “It’s gonna be like that now, huh?”
Davy nodded. “Yep.”
“Fine by me,” The older detective said. “We’ll get it all sorted out at the station.”
Davy laughed and Paden gave him a nod. The more he was around Davy, the more he was impressed with how calm his composure was. He just hoped he could be that calm once they were at the station.
24.
Joe was drinking a lukewarm cup of coffee watching Paden Evans through a one-way mirror and not once did he look around the interrogation room. Evans just stared at the top of the table. Joe’s earlier thoughts of knowing Evans were correct the longer he watched him. Although Evans tried to play it off that he didn’t recognize Joe, he’d been a cop long enough to know Evans recognized him.
Jacobs was standing next to Joe drinking a cup of coffee as well. “How do you want to handle this? You wanna go in there?”
“Yeah. I can talk to him. See what comes from it. You gonna talk to the other guy?”
Jacobs took a drink and shrugged. “Maybe. Let’s see how it goes with Evans first.”
Joe went and refilled his cup and poured another cup which he took into the interrogation room. When he entered the room, Evans barely looked up. Joe was used to this and didn’t think too much of it. These interviews were never about him. “You look like you need a cup of coffee, man. One of the new guys was supposed to buy creamer and sugar, but forgot. Hope you like it black.”
Evans’ head didn’t raise to look at Joe, but his eyes did and he shrugged as if not caring one way or the other. When the coffee was placed on the table, he grabbed the cup and took a sip. Joe took a sip as well. “I know it’s not as fancy as that coffee you had at Starbucks.”
“It’s fine.”
“Most days it’s better.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Joe sat in the chair opposite Evans and set the legal pad he had tucked under his left arm onto the table. “You got any idea, Paden, why you’re here?”
“Beats me.”
Joe took the pen from his left breast pocket of his shirt and clicked it a few times before setting it onto the pad. “You still work at Al’s over by the college?”
Evans shrugged. “Sometimes. Been a while though.”
“How long?”
“I dunno. Three, four months maybe. I’ve been busy elsewhere.”
“You still work at Penni’s?”
“Sometimes. Why?”
“Just trying to place where I’ve seen you.”
Evans nodded in acknowledgment. “Yeah. I’ve seen you at those places. Ain’t you a little old to be clubbing?”
“Probably. The wife likes to dance.”
“Where at? Penni’s?”
Joe knew it was a half-assed attempt from Evans to insult Darcy. “No, but she’s got a better body than most of the dancers who work there. Granted, she’s more than fifteen years older than them.”
“That so?”
Joe nodded and winked. “Bet your ass.”
“Would I know her?”
“Probably not. You barely recognized me, but I’ve seen you work the doors of a few clubs over the years.”
“Even Penni’s?”
“Three or four times. Mostly for work. Went to a bachelor party there once.”
“Fuck. I hate those.”
“I bet. They get rowdy?”
“Oh yeah. Sometimes, I end up tossing out a couple of fuckheads for getting too aggressive with the girls or other people.”
“Big guy like you. Must be easy to do.”
Evans shrugged. “Yeah. But, it still sucks manhandling grown-ass men acting like teenagers.”
Joe nodded. “I hauled in my share of those ass-grabbers when I was a patrolman.”
Evans took another sip. “So, why’m I here?”
Joe nodded as he realized all the niceties were over. “Last time I saw you, you were in the hospital after being shot. I called later to check on you, but they said you were gone.”
“Aw. Well, isn’t that nice of you.”
Joe scoffed. “Yeah. That’s me. I’m such a nice guy. The hospital said you’d be fine though, but needed to stay for observation. How is your wound?”
“It’s fine. Hurts a little, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“I see.” Joe wasn’t writing anything down. He looked into Evans’ eyes. “Tell me about Lanford Clark.”
Evans barely reacted to this. “What about him?”
“You work for him?”
“Sometimes.”
“For how long?”
“How long?”
“Yeah. How long have you worked for him?”
Evans shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Ten years?”
“At least. Maybe more. Known the guy fifteen years probably. Didn’t always work at his clubs though.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
“What’s lately?
“Last couple of days?”
Evans took a drink of the coffee in front of him. “He came by Al’s the other day. Couple days ago.”
“Did you two talk?”
“Just a little. Bullshitting really.”
“How long was he there?”
“Twenty, thirty minutes. Most was in the office with Al.”
Joe laughed. “So, there really is an Al?”
Evans smiled. “Yeah. Al Martinez. Lanny owns a good share of the club, but it’s Al’s still.”
“You haven’t seen him since the other day then?”
“No. Why?”
Joe sat up and stretched his back a little. “Someone killed him.”
Evans nodded. “No shit?”
“No shit. Stabbed with a grilling fork he was using to barbecue and then slit his throat.”
“Fuck. That’s brutal.”
Joe was looking f
or any sign that Evans knew something, but didn’t see anything. “Some guy named Marcus Randolph was killed along with Clark. You know him?”
“No. I heard of him though.”
“Just heard of him? You never met him?”
“Maybe. I don’t remember. Lanny introduced me to a lot of people.”
“You call him Lanny. Were you two friends?”
“I knew the guy long enough to call him what he wanted to be called.”
“You sad he’s dead? For someone you knew that long, it doesn’t seem to upset you.”
“Why should I be sad? I’m a fucking big boy. I know he was probably mixed up with some bad shit and got the shitty end of it. It was bound to happen.”
“What was?”
“Lanny getting killed.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, he probably pissed off the wrong person.”
“What about the other guy? Randolph?”
“I dunno. Probably the same thing.”
“And you have no idea who might be behind this?”
Evans finished the last of his coffee and returned his gaze back to the center of the table.
Paden sat at the table of the empty interrogation room irritated about the whole thing. He wasn’t being charged with anything and wanted to be out trying to finish getting his payback. He and Davy took out the shooters, but he made a deal with Big John and Davy to take out Sean Brady and he couldn’t get that done while being held at the police station.
It wasn’t like he and Davy were friends, but Paden was curious what the cops were doing with him. Davy seemed like a solid guy who wouldn’t crack either. He knew enough about him to know that much.
They needed to get out of the station and go after Brady. The way Davy spoke of Brady, Paden could tell Davy respected him at one time despite what Davy and Big John obviously had been planning. One part of Paden was curious about that, but the other part didn’t care. He just wanted to be free and clear of all of this and get out of town.
Paden was feeling the exhaustion hit as he sat in the warm room. As much as he wanted to put his head down and rest, he knew the moment he did the cops would be back in and wake him up for either more questioning or to release him. He was hoping for the latter and hoping it came soon.
As if on cue, the door to the interrogation room opened and Joe Thompson walked in putting his notepad on the table. He didn’t sit, so Paden had to look up at him. “Alright, Paden. We can’t seem to find anything to keep you any longer. We just wanted to have a chat with you and your new friend is all.”
