Deep Dark Night

by Steph Broadribb

  I end the call. Won’t call Monroe back. If they want me to give evidence they’re going to have to subpoena me.

  ‘Everything okay?’ JT meets my eye. The happiness I saw on his face a few moments ago is now eclipsed by worry.

  I force a smile. Don’t want to get into things now. ‘Monroe says they’re expediting Cabressa’s trial.’

  ‘Thought they might.’ He turns in his seat. Frowns. ‘You don’t have to be there do you?’

  ‘He wants me there.’

  JT nods. ‘And what do you want?’

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t want to go. Not if I can help it, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Good.’ JT looks all kinds of relieved. ‘A trial like that, Cabressa’s people … they won’t want witnesses taking the stand.’

  ‘I know.’ And I do. In trials against mob bosses, the witnesses for the prosecution have a real nasty habit of ending up dead.

  We both flinch as my phone starts to vibrate again. I look at the caller ID – it says Monroe again. ‘Goddammit.’

  ‘Answer it,’ says JT. ‘He’ll not give us a moment of peace otherwise.’

  Knowing JT’s right, I stab the screen and answer the call. ‘What?’

  ‘Nice greeting. Hello to you too.’

  I don’t respond. Wait for Monroe to get on with it.

  He sighs. ‘I assume you’ve listened to my message?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Well I missed something out. The chess pieces have been delivered back to their original owner – the one Cabressa had them stolen from, several years ago, before Patrick Walker, the man who was transporting them to Chicago, got murdered and the chess pieces were stolen again. So way back before you got involved in all this.’

  ‘Okay.’ I’m confused and I have no idea how this relates to me.

  ‘Well, as you can imagine they’re very grateful to have got them back.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ I say. ‘Well, if that’s all—’

  ‘Hold up, I’m getting to the good bit.’ Monroe pauses.

  ‘And?’ I can’t keep the irritation out of my tone.

  ‘There’s a finder’s fee. They offered it way back, a week or so after the pieces first disappeared, hoping that the thief would return them and take the money rather than try to fence stolen goods that were all over the papers. I told the bureau you found the pieces, because … well, you did.’

  I frown. ‘Okay?’

  ‘The owner’s accountant is sending you a cheque. It’s for two hundred thousand dollars.’

  My jaw goes slack. I say nothing.

  ‘Did you hear me, Lori? They’re sending the two hundred-thousand-dollar reward money direct to you. I thought it might go a ways to making up for what happened.’

  I pause. Monroe having me receive this kind of money – it raises all my suspicions. Monroe only does things to benefit him. If he’s having the reward money sent to me, it’s part of a bigger plan that’s for sure. ‘What’s the catch?’

  I wait, thinking this is the moment he’ll tell me about a new job he wants me to work. JT’s looking at me. He raises an eyebrow. Wondering what’s going on, I reckon.

  ‘Look, there’s no catch, Lori.’ Monroe sounds sincere. ‘This is just about you getting what you’re due.’

  I narrow my eyes, real suspicious. About me getting what I’m due? That’s never been on Monroe’s agenda before. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Been good working with you,’ Monroe says. His voice cracks halfway through the sentence. The bravado of the last time we spoke has gone. Now it’s replaced by a kind of neediness.

  I don’t fall for it. Don’t reply.

  Monroe gives an awkward laugh. ‘Don’t be a stranger, Lori.’

  The line goes dead. I stare at the phone. Monroe’s always been Jekyll and Hyde. He’s teetered back and forth across the line between lawful and lawless, but, until this job, even his unlawful acts have been motivated by his passion to catch the worst criminals and get justice. This time though, he strayed too far over the line in the wrong direction. Six people died. I was nearly the seventh. Most of those deaths could have been avoided if Monroe had given the command and sent in our back-up. I shake my head. I can’t forget that, no matter how much he’d like me too. No matter how much money he’s having sent my way.

  ‘What did he say?’ JT asks.

  ‘There’s a reward, a finder’s fee from the owners of the chess pieces. Monroe told them I was the person who located them. They’re sending me a cheque.’

  ‘Sounds fair.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I meet JT’s gaze. ‘The reward’s two hundred thousand dollars.’

  He lets out a long whistle. ‘That’s some serious money. We could do a lot of things with that kind of cash. We could start that business you were talking about, or ship out and find us a place somewhere else – a new start – as a family.’

  ‘We could.’ I nod. My head’s full of possibilities, but I don’t want to make a hasty decision. ‘We should think real careful about it.’

  ‘For sure.’ He slips his hand into mine. Caresses my palm. ‘So what now?’

  I smile at him. Interlace my fingers with his and hold them tight. ‘Right now, I just want to go home.’

  71

  A home isn’t a place or a building. It’s a feeling – a connection – one made through relationships with family and with friends. JT is my home, Dakota too. And there’s one other person who completes the group. A man who’s become an essential confidante, friend, and family member to us all. And someone who’s saved our skins a good few times as well. Tonight we’re going to visit with him.

  It’s been three weeks since me and JT got back from Chicago.

  Dakota’s real excited.

  ‘Come on,’ she calls as she races along the floating walkway, leading us towards the spot where Red’s houseboat is moored.

  JT and me stroll along behind her at a steadier pace, holding hands.

  I watch Dakota reach the end of the pontoon. Stop by the dark-green and gold liveried houseboat and shout, ‘You in there, Mr Red?’

  A few moments later Red steps out on deck. Fit, rugged, with a deep tan and silver-streaked hair. He raises his hand in a wave.

  Dakota glances back to check JT and me are coming, then scrambles under the pontoon ropes and jumps from the walkway to the boat.

  ‘Hello Little Fish.’ Red laughs, and ruffles her hair. ‘Full of beans as ever I see.’

  She beams up at him. Pulling her Miley Cyrus rucksack off her back, she thrusts it towards Red. ‘Can I swim before dinner? I’ve got my swimsuit and all.’

  ‘Well that depends on what your momma says,’ replies Red, looking over at me.

  ‘Momma, please,’ says Dakota, her blue eyes wide and pleading. ‘Can I show you my diving?’

  I smile. Nod at Dakota, then look at Red. ‘Sure, if you don’t mind?’

  He smiles. ‘It’s all good with me.’ He looks at Dakota. ‘Why don’t you go get changed into your suit while I fetch your momma and JT a drink?’

  ‘Sure.’

  As Dakota scoots off into the houseboat to get changed, JT steps aboard, then turns back and helps me. Stepping across the gap between boat and mooring, and making the step up to the deck is still a bit of an effort. I’m doing better – the aches are reducing, and the pain is minimal, but I’m not up to full strength just yet.

  ‘Sit, take a load off,’ says Red, gesturing to the cushioned seating around the outside of the deck. ‘What can I get you – sweet tea, a glass of wine, a beer?’

  ‘Beer sounds good,’ I say.

  JT nods. ‘For me too.’

  Red takes three beers from the cooler under the middle bunk, twists off the caps and hands us each a bottle. He raises his. ‘To safe returns.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that,’ says JT, and clinks his bottle against Red’s.

  I do the same. ‘I’m just glad we made it back.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ says Red. He glances towards the cabin. ‘How’s she be
en?’

  ‘Okay, I think,’ I say. ‘She’s back at school, doing real well according to her teacher, and seems to be enjoying it too.’

  ‘She wants us around more, I’d say,’ JT adds. ‘Doesn’t like it if one of us goes out, prefers us all being together.’

  ‘I guess that’s normal,’ I say. Although as soon as I’ve said it I think how stupid it sounds; nothing has been normal about Dakota’s home life, not for the past six months or so. She’s been kidnapped and taken hostage; we got her back; and then she was on the boat with Red and JT when Miami Mob enforcers tried to sink them. Then she’s had to cope while me and JT went to Chicago on a job and ended up being away a week longer than intended. Then she’s seen me returning after a hospital stay and nearly getting dead. These are all things no ten-year-old kid should have to deal with.

  There’s more, as well. She’s gotten to know JT, and she knows me and him go way back, but we’ve not told her that he’s her dad. We need to do that, I know we do. And we will. Real soon. Just as soon as we’ve gotten things a little more settled. ‘Normal, considering what she’s been through, anyways,’ I add.

  Red nods. Looks at me real direct. ‘And you, Miss Lori, how are you coping?’

  I take a gulp of beer. Avoiding the question.

  JT steps in to answer for me. ‘She’s getting stronger each day.’

  Red looks thoughtful. Takes a sip of his beer then sets it down on the small table between the bench seats. ‘Where’s your head at, with the job an’ all?’

  I exhale hard. Shake my head. ‘I’ve not gone back to work yet, if that’s what you’re asking.’

  He holds my gaze. ‘You know that it’s not.’

  None of us speak. Red’s concerned about me, I get that. He knows I was having doubts before the Chicago job. That the three-way mob shootout in the Bonchese Miami compound last month shook me in a way that I hadn’t experienced before. He knows I didn’t want to go to Chicago, and that JT came with me because I was having nightmares about the Bonchese massacre.

  I open my mouth to reply.

  ‘Here I go…’ Dakota flies out through the door to the cabin wearing her pink-and-gold swimsuit. As the door swings open I catch the aroma of Red’s speciality dish – shrimp gumbo – cooking in the galley, and my stomach rumbles.

  Dakota hurtles past us across the deck, and climbs up onto the railing. She pauses, getting her balance, then, with the agility of a cat, stands straight. ‘Watch this,’ she says. Next moment she leaps into the air and executes a perfect dive.

  ‘Wow,’ I say, clapping my hands. I look at Red, grinning. ‘You taught her to do that?’

  ‘I helped a little,’ he says. ‘Gave her a few pointers. But the girl’s a natural. Swims like a fish.’

  ‘I’m a mermaid,’ says Dakota, her head and shoulders appearing out of the ocean as she treads water. ‘Aren’t I, Mr Red?’

  Red laughs. ‘You sure are, Little Fish.’

  ‘I’m going to have a swim around,’ she says, disappearing back under the water with a splash. She resurfaces a moment later. ‘It’s so cool in here,’ she calls. ‘You should come in too, Momma.’

  ‘I don’t have my swimsuit,’ I say. ‘Maybe next time.’

  ‘Okay,’ Dakota calls.

  Leaning over the side of the boat, I watch her swimming around in the bay. She stays close. Is watchful for boats and jet-skis and the like. Red’s taught her well.

  ‘JT? You want to swim with me?’ calls Dakota.

  He looks at me and shrugs. ‘Okay, kiddo. You’re on.’

  JT takes off his tee, revealing his tanned, toned chest, and removes his jeans and sliders. ‘Here I come,’ he says, as he climbs over the rail, and dives into the water beside Dakota. She giggles with delight. I watch the pair of them swim out a little further from the mooring. Smile at the delight on both their faces.

  Red clears his throat. ‘So, Miss Lori, you going to answer my question?’

  I look back at him. Shrug. ‘I’m okay, I guess.’

  ‘Okay, you guess?’ Red raises an eyebrow. ‘One thing I admire about you is how you’ve always known and spoken your own mind, even when you know that your choices will be problematic. What’s stopping you now?’

  ‘I’ve been taken away from Dakota too many times this summer.’ I shake my head. ‘And then after the job with North and Old Man Bonchese – the shootout at the compound in Miami – and now everything that happened in Chicago. It’s like I’ve gotten away from what I am, who I am, and been pulled into this world of federal agents and escaped fugitives and mobsters.’

  ‘You’ve done good work.’

  ‘And a lot of people have died. Some of them good people, honest citizens.’ I exhale hard. ‘I didn’t sign up for that.’

  ‘What did you sign up for?’

  I look out across the water. On the horizon, the sun is sinking lower in the sky, colouring the sea a burning gold. ‘Justice, I signed up to help serve that. To get those who’d done bad deeds to face what they’d done and atone.’ I look back at Red. ‘To atone myself for not preventing the murder of my friend, and for shooting the man who killed her.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘I still want that. But I want a family life with my child.’ I look back out over the water to where JT and Dakota are swimming alongside each other. ‘And with JT.’

  ‘Sounds fair to me.’ Red follows my gaze. ‘She’s a good kid – smart, bold, and as determined as her momma when she puts her mind to things.’

  I laugh. ‘Very true.’

  ‘JT’s a good man too.’

  I nod. Watch JT pretending to be a shark and chasing Dakota through the water. See her laughing and kicking her legs real hard in the water, showering him with spray. I smile. ‘He is that.’ I meet Red’s gaze. ‘And so are you.’

  He puts his fingers to his forehead in a mock salute. ‘I’m happy to help out, Miss Lori. You know that.’

  ‘I appreciate it.’

  Red nods. Knocks his beer bottle against mine. ‘Anytime.’

  ‘Momma, did you see us?’ Dakota pulls herself up over the rails and flops down onto the nearest seat.

  ‘I did. You’re fast.’

  ‘Faster than JT,’ Dakota says, real proud.

  ‘Almost faster than JT,’ says JT, climbing back onto the deck.

  ‘Whatever,’ says Dakota, rolling her eyes. ‘Almost faster.’

  JT shakes his head. The damp from his hair sending water over us all, like a wet dog shaking itself dry.’

  I shriek. Laugh. Keep laughing until I can’t stop. It feels like I haven’t laughed like this in forever. It feels good. Dakota joins in. Then JT and Red. And for a few moments we’re laughing, and JT shakes again, and Dakota joins in, and we’re wet and laughing and it’s perfect. This is what’s important – moments like this – happiness and being together.

  ‘Is dinner ready, Mr Red?’ Dakota asks.

  ‘Real soon,’ Red says. ‘You best go get washed up and ready to eat.’

  ‘I’ll be fast,’ says Dakota, rushing across the deck and disappearing through the door into the cabin. She calls over her shoulder, ‘Don’t start without me.’

  Red reaches into one of the storage compartments under the bench seats and takes out a striped towel. Throws it to JT. ‘You want a dry pair of shorts?’

  JT uses the towel to dry his hair. Pats down his body. ‘I’m good. It’s so warm out, these’ll dry in no time.’

  ‘Alrighty then.’ Red stands, and ambles towards the cabin. ‘I best go get the gumbo ready to serve.’

  ‘Just hold up a moment,’ I say.

  Stopping, Red turns back and squints towards me, shielding his eyes from the setting sun. ‘What’s going on?’

  I clear my throat. Feel my heart rate accelerate. ‘You know how you said you were always happy to help out?’

  Red nods. ‘Surely do.’

  I pause, and glance at JT. Make sure he’s ready for this; that the plan we’ve been working on these
past couple of weeks is totally what he wants.

  JT smiles. Gives me a nod. And suddenly I know that everything is going to be just fine. We’ve figured out how we’re going to use the two-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for finding the chess pieces. Now all we have to do is persuade Red.

  Taking a deep breath, I look back at Red.

  This is it, the moment of truth. Yes or no.

  I smile to hide my nerves. Hope things go the way we hope. ‘The thing is, Red, we’ve got a proposition for you.’

  Acknowledgements

  I first visited Chicago just over ten years ago and was awed by the soaring skyscrapers, stunning parks and wide waterways of the city. For Lori Anderson’s fourth adventure I wanted to do something a little different to the chase stories of the first three books; something more contained, like a locked room mystery. So when I had the idea for this story I immediately thought Chicago would be the perfect setting – so thank you Chicago for being such a fabulous muse.