Shotgun Boogie

by Steve Brewer

  "Up there somewhere," he said. "We'll find a dark street."

  Chapter 50

  Jackie Nolan thought about trying to attraction attention, but how to do it without getting somebody hurt? They'd driven into Nob Hill, a bustling zone of trendy restaurants and chic shops, but the pedestrians and other motorists were not looking their way.

  If she'd been alone in the car with these murderers, she might've tried to jump out while they were stopped at the intersection, make a run for it. But she couldn't abandon her mother in the car, and Marge couldn't bail out on her own.

  The light changed and traffic surged forward. They went past the Nob Hill Shopping Center and climbed the steep hill toward Lead and Coal Avenues, the busy streets everyone calls "the One-Ways."

  "I've got it," Jackie said. "Tell him to turn left at the second light. There's a house nearby where we can let Mom off."

  "Why should we do that?" Rita sneered.

  "Because if you don't, I'll never give you those guns. Never."

  Rita turned to the driver and spat out a stream of Spanish so rapid that Jackie didn't catch a word.

  They stopped at a red light that cast a crimson glow into the passenger compartment.

  El Gűero looked at Jackie in the mirror, sizing her up, and she gave him the same steely gaze she'd used on his partner. She had to convince them she was serious and immovable. Her mother's life depended on it.

  After a moment, he shrugged and turned his attention back to the red light. But he put on his left blinker.

  "It's only a few blocks from here," Jackie said.

  Rita stared at her, murder in her dark eyes, then the light changed and they turned onto Coal Avenue. The street went steeply downhill, and it took the surrounding neighborhood with it. Without those expensive hilltop views to feed them, the houses got smaller.

  "Turn right," Jackie said in plenty of time for the woman to translate.

  He steered onto Solano Avenue and stopped when Jackie told him to, right at the curb in front of Rose Moore's gray stucco house.

  "Her nurse lives there," Jackie said. "I'll just take her to the door."

  "No, no," Rita said. "You stay with us."

  "She can't make it on her own."

  "Not my problem. We brought you here. You're getting what you asked for. And that's all."

  "Okay." Jackie risked reaching for the door handle. "I'm just going to help her out of the car, then I'll get right back in."

  "If you try to run, he will shoot you. And your mother."

  "I understand that," Jackie said. "I'm not running. I'm taking you to that shipment of guns. I want this to be finished."

  Rita nodded curtly. Jackie eased out of the back seat and hurried around the trunk to Marge's door. She opened the door and took hold of her mother's arm.

  "Come on, Mom. You need to get out."

  Marge peered out the door past her. "Where are we?"

  "We're at Rose's house."

  "Rose?"

  "Your nurse?"

  Marge shook her head, not getting it.

  "That nice colored lady," Jackie said through clenched teeth.

  "Oh!"

  Jackie pulled Marge to her feet and stood close to her on the sidewalk, speaking directly into her face.

  "Walk right up to that door there and ring the bell. Okay, Mom?"

  "The bell?"

  "Straight up this sidewalk to the house. See the doorbell glowing?"

  "Are they home?"

  "Sure, Mom. The lights are on. See?"

  Jackie's voice was raspy. Her heart pounded and her eyes burned. Could Marge do this on her own? Was this the last time she'd ever talk to her mother?

  "Here you go, Mom," she managed. "Right this way."

  As they turned away from the car, Jackie fished Agent Romeo Sandoval's business card out of her shirt pocket. She tucked it into Marge's clutching hand, where it crumpled amid the fabric of her coat hem, quickly lost from sight.

  "Go, Mom."

  Marge walked toward Rose Moore's home without looking back.

  The car window hummed down, and Rita snapped at Jackie. "Get back in the car. Now."

  Jackie slid into the back seat. She closed the door, and the car immediately sped away. She turned in the seat, trying to see whether Marge made it to the front door, but her mother was only halfway there, taking small, careful steps.

  The car turned the corner and a house suddenly was in the way. Jackie couldn't see her mom. She wondered if she'd ever see her again.

  Chapter 51

  Rita Gutierrez watched Jackie as she lost sight of her ailing mother. Jackie's expression crumpled for a second, then she composed herself and faced forward, her jaw set.

  Rita's hands rested on the back of the seat, her fingers toying with the straight razor, the blade slipping in and out of view. Her left leg was cocked up on the console between the front seats and her skirt was hitched up. El Gűero's hand rested lightly on the inside of her thigh.

  His other hand spun the steering wheel, following Jackie's directions, which needed no translation. El Gűero knew his right from his left, even in English.

  The sun was entirely gone behind the western horizon, and all the cars were using their headlights. El Gűero finally removed his sunglasses and put them away inside his jacket.

  Soon they were on the One-Ways again, headed west.

  "Everywhere you go in this city," Rita said, "one red light after another."

  "We're going downtown," Jackie said. "Any other route would take half the night."

  "What is this place we are going to?"

  "It's just a fenced lot with a garage big enough for trucks. It was my father's."

  "Your father is dead?"

  Jackie nodded grimly.

  "Is that why your mother is sick in her head?"

  "No, that started before he died."

  "Ah. And you take care of her now?"

  Another nod.

  "That's good, Jackie. You are a good daughter."

  Jackie said nothing, but El Gűero gave Rita's thigh a squeeze. He seemed to be enjoying himself, ripping around this sprawling city with his woman and their captive, listening to them dance around each other in English.

  "Maybe," Rita said to Jackie, "if you help us tonight, we let you go back to her. You can take care of her the rest of her days."

  "I'd like to believe that," Jackie said. "But I'm prepared for the worst."

  Another squeeze, which gave Rita a thrill low in her belly. El Gűero liked the ones with spunk, the ones who would fight a little rather than just blubber and die. They could have a lot of fun with Jackie before they killed her.

  His hand crept farther up her thigh, finding the bare skin above the stocking. Rita's breath caught in her throat, but she smiled brightly at Jackie.

  "Would you like that, Jackie? Would you like to go home to Mama when this is over?"

  Nothing from the back seat. Jackie flickered in and out of view as they drove beneath streetlights. She sat perfectly still in the back seat, her hands on her knees. They were big, strong-looking hands with short, blunt nails. Nothing like Rita's own beautiful manicure. Everything about Jackie was square and blunt, where Rita was all curves. They were both women, but it was as if they were different species.

  "Your father drove trucks?" she asked Jackie. "Is that how you learned to do it?"

  "That's right."

  "Did he steal them, too?"

  "No." Jackie's eyes narrowed, as if she were offended by the idea. "He was a long-haul trucker."

  "So he taught you to drive," Rita said. "Who taught you to steal?"

  A pause. It was dark in the back seat at the moment, and Rita couldn't read her face.

  "I picked that up on my own," Jackie said. "I needed the money to pay for my mother's medical care. The whole thing sorta got out of control."

  Rita tilted the razor this way and that, trying to catch the passing light. Jackie stared at the blade.

  "I didn't know that truc
k was full of guns," she said. "If I had, I never would've boosted it in the first place."

  "That might've been the smart thing. But it's too late now."

  Jackie said nothing for maybe a minute. Rita waited her out, knowing she couldn't leave it there.

  "I never should've looked in that trailer, either," Jackie said finally. "If I'd simply delivered the truck, I could've been left out of this."

  "But you got cold feet," Rita said. "Is that the right expression? 'Cold feet?'"

  "My feet were fine," Jackie said. "Once I saw that load, I had to do something. I was trying to keep those guns out of the hands of people like you."

  El Gűero pinched the tender flesh inside Rita's thigh. She gasped, but Jackie didn't seem to notice.

  "Take the next right," Jackie said. "At the light after the railroad tracks. Then stay on Second Street for the next mile."

  Rita translated the directions to El Gűero.

  Jackie added, "We're almost there."

  Chapter 52

  Special Agent Romeo Sandoval was on his way home from work when his cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but he was stopped at a red light anyway, so he thumbed the button to answer the call.

  "This is Sandoval."

  "Agent Romeo Sandoval?" A woman's voice.

  "Yeah, that's me. Who's this?"

  "My name is Rose Moore. I got your number off your business card."

  "Okay." The light changed and he hooked a right into a parking lot to get out of traffic. "What can I do for you, Ms. Moore?"

  "This will sound strange, but I think somebody's in trouble and she wanted me to call you and tell you about it."

  "What kind of trouble?"

  "I'm not real sure. This woman is a client of mine, Jackie Nolan?"

  That made Romeo sit up straight in his seat.

  "Yes," he said. "I know Jackie Nolan. In fact, I need to talk to her. Is she there with you?"

  "No. She dropped off her mother at my house."

  "Her mother?"

  "Her mother is named Marge. Very sweet lady, but she suffers from dementia and she's slowly slipping away. She has to have a home nurse on hand whenever Jackie's at work. I'm one of those nurses."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Couple of times lately, Jackie has asked me to look after Marge all of the sudden. At the last minute, you know?"

  "She's been real busy?"

  "Some kind of emergency," she said, "so she brought Marge here to my house. Against company rules, but she paid cash and what I do on my own time is my own business."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Rose Moore took a breath.

  "A little while ago, Jackie dropped her off at my house without asking me first. Just put her out at the curb."

  "That's not right."

  "No, sir. And it's not something Jackie would ever do. She takes good care of her mother. Even if it was another emergency, she would've at least brought her to the door. But Jackie jumped in the back seat of this car and they roared away, like somebody dumping a puppy they didn't want."

  "You saw her?"

  "I happened to be looking out the front window when that car pulled up," Rose Moore said. "Two people in the front. Jackie and her mom in the back. Jackie got out and put Marge out on the sidewalk. Then away they went, zoom."

  "Leaving you with Mom."

  "Right. I brought her in the house and took her coat off and sat her down. I was all ready to call Jackie and give her what-for, but I noticed that Marge was clutching something in her hand."

  "My business card," Romeo guessed.

  "That's right. Now why would she be holding onto your business card? The only thing I could think of was that Jackie was sending me a message to call you. So here I am."

  "You did the right thing, Ms. Moore. Sounds like Jackie might be mixed up with the wrong people."

  "That's what I was thinking."

  "Did you get a look at the others in the car?"

  "Not really. A man and a woman, I think, though I can't say for certain. And don't ask me what kind of car it was. They're all alike to me."

  "Could Jackie's mother tell you anything about the other people in the car?"

  "Oh, no." She lowered her voice. "She's not really coherent at the moment. She's quite upset."

  "Could I come over and talk with her, Ms. Moore?

  "You can try. But don't get your hopes up. She doesn't seem up to conversation tonight."

  "That's okay. You can show me where all this happened. Maybe we can make some sense of it."

  "I'm happy to help."

  "Give me your address. I'll be right there."

  Chapter 53

  Jackie Nolan was tempted to lead the two killers on a scenic tour of Albuquerque, but they'd figure out the runaround eventually, and would likely take it out on her. Besides, what was the point of buying time? Nobody was going to ride to her rescue. That crumpled business card she'd put in her mother's hand had been an impulse, a message in a bottle. Jackie was on her own with these two in the front seat, and the less time spent with them the better.

  El Gűero stopped the car just short of the gate in the chain-link fence. The headlights illuminated the shiny padlock and thick chain that held the gate closed.

  He turned to look at her, holding out his slender hand. "Key."

  Jackie dug her key ring out of the pocket and leaned over so she could see the keys in a shaft of light that spilled from the security light beside the gate. She sorted through the keys until she found the right one, then popped it off the ring and handed it over. He took the key, staring at her for a moment, as if he thought she might be tricking him in some way.

  He pulled the big black pistol from his belt and made a show of handing it to his girlfriend. Rita propped the heavy gun on the back of the seat, pointed right at Jackie's face. Her finger was on the trigger.

  Jackie sat very still.

  El Gűero got out of the car and unlocked the gate and rolled it out of the way. Headlight beams sliced through his legs, throwing shadows toward the tall garage and the long-legged diesel tank and her father's familiar old Kenworth.

  Once the gate was out of the way, he got back behind the wheel and let the car creep forward into the lot, gravel crackling under the tires. His girlfriend kept the gun pointed at Jackie, who found it hard not to watch that trigger finger.

  Again, El Gűero stopped just short of the entrance, using his headlights to illuminate the padlock and chain on the garage door.

  "Another key?"

  "I'll unlock it," Jackie said, opening the back door. "We can all get out here."

  The couple exchanged a look, eyebrows cocked, silently communicating about how to proceed. Rita handed the gun back to the blond man and he gestured for Jackie to go ahead.

  He kept the gun pointed at her as he slid out from behind the wheel. His girlfriend got out, too, teetering in her heels on the uneven footing. They stood over Jackie while she squatted to unlock the padlock, then stepped back when she rolled up the clattering door. Without waiting for permission, Jackie stepped inside and flicked on the lights.

  Everything was as she'd left it, the door of the trailer standing open to show its load of death. Several boxes of rifles sat on the concrete floor where she'd lowered them while assessing the shipment. Jackie showed them the one that she'd pried open, lifting off the lid to reveal the black automatic rifles inside.

  "Ah!" Rita said. "Go-o-ooal!"

  That made El Gűero smile. First time Jackie had seen any expression on his narrow face. He had pale blue eyes and perfect skin and his blond hair was just so. Jackie guessed that he spent a lot of time in front of a mirror.

  Rita was flushed with success, red lipstick smeared on her teeth as she beamed at him. Jackie noted the hunger in her dark eyes. She looked like she wanted to throw him to the ground and screw him then and there.

  Jackie still crouched by the open crate, watching them. She hated to disturb the moment, but she needed to get out of here alive.


  "Hey," she said. "I brought you to the guns, just as I said I would. Why don't you let me go now?"

  Rita smiled, but she shook her head. Jackie didn't like the gleam in her eyes.

  "We made you no promises," she said smugly. "And we are not finished with you, Jackie."

  "That's what I thought you'd say." Jackie got to her feet. "When are we finished then?"

  "When I tell you. For now, you can pick up these boxes and put them back in the truck."

  "They're heavy."

  "So?"

  The couple stood together, whispering in Spanish, while Jackie heaved the crates up into the trailer. Rita made a phone call, but it was all in rapid Spanish as well and Jackie couldn't catch enough words to make sense of the conversation. By the time she finished loading the crates and closed the trailer door, they were ready for her.

  "I want to ask you about that truck outside," Rita said, "your father's truck."

  "What about it?"

  "Would it pull this trailer?"

  Jackie saw where this was going. She didn't like it, but it was better than them deciding they didn't need her anymore.

  "Sure," she said. "The truck's in good shape for its age."

  "And you can drive it, si?"

  Jackie nodded.

  "Then you will drive for us. Pull this trailer out of here."

  "And take it where?"

  "Just out of the city," Rita said. "We have a driver of our own to get it across the border. We'll arrange to meet him south of Albuquerque."

  "And then you'll let me go?"

  More smiles from the two Mexicans. A loaded look shared between them.

  "Sure," Rita said. "Why not?"

  Jackie didn't believe it, not for a second.

  "Do I get to keep Dad's truck? It's worth a lot, even as old as it is."

  The smile slid from Rita's face, and her painted-on brows met in the middle.

  "Is it worth more than your life?"

  Jackie took a deep breath before answering. "No, of course not."

  "Then don't push your luck."

  Chapter 54