Battle Axe

by Carsen Taite

  I didn’t find any towels, but I did find row after row of burnt orange prescription bottles. I checked two and they were both full of the same pills I’d found in the bottle Laura had given me. The labels were from the same pharmacy too, which I was certain was fake. None appeared to be in Bingo’s name. Looks like I had another connection back to Diamond. I shoved one of the bottles in my pocket, dried my face on my shirtsleeve, and walked back to the kitchen.

  I decided to play along with Jess. Let her think she was in control. “Maybe you’re right. I’ve got a murderer to find. I’ll leave you with the non-paying gig and go collect a nice fee. Let’s tell Bingo you’re on it. But seriously, Jess, you better be on it. He’s like family to me and he needs to come out of this okay.”

  “Got it.”

  I knew she did and I meant what I said. As dumb as Bingo was for getting involved with these guys in the first place, I felt bad for him. I wasn’t all that smart myself, having gotten involved with these guys just because a sexy woman had dared me to. Time to confront Diamond and find a way out of this mess.

  Jess and I didn’t talk much on the way home. My sugary donut high had worn off, and all I could think about was a good night’s sleep. I glanced over at Jess. She looked wide-awake. Maybe Bingo’s problems would provide a nice escape to the ruckus of her home life. I’d like to think something would keep her mind off Dr. Heather Deveaux, since nothing else I did seemed to do the trick.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Saturday morning was super sunny, but I managed to pull a pillow over my face and sleep until noon. I considered taking the day off, but I didn’t really know what that would look like. Mark was at Dad’s so I couldn’t steal Dad away for a trip to the casino. My television only got reception for two local channels, and there was never anything on I cared to watch. I supposed I could sleep all day, but even that gets old after a while.

  Wonder what Chance and Deveaux were doing? Maybe breakfast in bed and a day of cuddling? Or would Chance keep her word and start working on getting Bingo out of his mess? Why did I care?

  I thought about the prescription bottle I’d palmed from Bingo’s place last night. I probably should’ve given it to Jess when I’d had the chance, but I hadn’t. I should still call John and give it to him, but something made me feel like hanging on to it, maybe because it felt like the common thread in the fabric made up of Diamond, Bingo, the Italians, and the Russians. Maybe I was just feeling way too poetic.

  I did call John. Left him a message, asking him to keep an eye on Jess, that she’d attracted some unwanted attention from some unsavory folks. A little cagey, but I didn’t want to leave a lot of detail on his voicemail. I hoped after our earlier conversation, he’d get the point. I didn’t mention the prescription. Not yet.

  That done, my choices for the day boiled down to two options. Talk to Diamond or find Otis Shaw. I found a stray penny on my nightstand and flipped it in the air. Heads the Fed, tails the jailbird.

  Tails. Today was the day Otis Shaw would go back to jail.

  I considered a run, but when I stuck my head out the door to check the temperature, I nearly froze. Must’ve dropped twenty degrees overnight. Crazy Texas weather. After a shower, I decided to head to Maggie’s for lunch out of convenience more than anything else. I’d make a burger myself if I had to.

  She greeted me the moment I walked in the door and I wished I’d worn shades. Her lime green and sunny yellow ensemble burned my eyes. Her voice burned my ears. “Why aren’t you with your father and your brother? They are picking out tuxedos this morning.”

  I could think of about a dozen reasons why I wasn’t with them, especially considering what they were up to. Thank you, Mark, for saving me from this task. He had to know that getting me to agree to dress up would be enough of a chore without subjecting me to any decision-making. “They don’t need me for that. What do I know about tuxes?”

  She led me to the bar and pointed me into a chair. “It’s not about what you know. It’s your job to be there for all the little things. You know, as the best man, or whatever.”

  “Best woman. Or whatever. Like what little things?”

  “You know, you throw him a party, you get him to the wedding, you handle the ring—”

  I held up a hand to stop her. Already she’d listed way more than I was comfortable with. Show up, make sure Mark didn’t throw up. That’s about all I thought I was in for, and even those small tasks gave me the chills. I didn’t entirely trust Maggie’s version of a best whatever’s duties and thought about who I could ask. Jess was the first name that sprang to mind, but I had a feeling I was just looking for a reason to call her. John was married. He would know more about the duties of a best man than any of the women in my life. Maybe I’d call him later, give him the prescription bottle in exchange for words of wisdom.

  In the meantime, I needed to get Maggie off the subject and talk her into a hamburger and fries. “I’ll call Mark later. I promise. But right now, I’m starving. I’ve been running a lot lately and I can’t afford to lose weight, so I need a burger and fries, not that healthy shit you’ve been turning out for Dad.” I whipped out a picture of Otis Shaw. “I need to nab this guy today, and turkey sandwiches on whole wheat ain’t gonna cut it. Cool?”

  Her expression told me I probably could have been a hellauva lot more tactful, but I’d gotten my point across. She glanced at the picture and then huffed. “It’s your life. You want it to be short. Who am I to say different? Hopefully, you’ll make it to the wedding. I know Mark is counting on you.” She stomped off, still talking about my failing health and almost certain demise. Interesting how she’d become so in touch with what my brother wanted when she’d only just met him. Typical Maggie, meddling in everyone’s business. I didn’t care how much she railed as long as she brought me a plate full of fat, grease, and protein.

  An hour later, I felt more like taking a nap than hunting down a felon, but I forced enthusiasm for my afternoon adventure. I filled up the Bronco and drove to Shaw’s new girlfriend’s place. I circled the block a few times while I considered what to do. Felt good getting back to basics. Find people, bring them in. Find more people. Easy, simple. I didn’t need the complications of a cop’s life. I decided to tell Diamond to screw off and give the RX bottle to John. They could each solve their own mysteries. I didn’t need the trouble. A desire for simplicity was why I’d lasted less than a year on the force.

  Shante’s place looked empty, and this wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where folks called the cops if they saw someone lurking around, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I parked a street over and snuck back through the alley. Good thing I wore boots. The alley was full of empty pizza boxes and used hypodermic needles. Nice neighborhood.

  The backyard was surrounded by a chain link fence I could almost step over. Not much cover. The driveway was out front, so I didn’t expect to see any cars in the back, but I also didn’t expect to see a swing set and a sandbox. Wouldn’t surprise me if Otis was a prolific baby daddy. I’d have to be careful not to shoot up any kids in my quest for him.

  After watching the back windows for about fifteen minutes, I decided no one was home. I should’ve walked away, gotten in the Bronco, and set up surveillance. Thing is, I hate waiting around, especially when I know there’s so much more I can be doing.

  I glanced around, then vaulted over the fence. Half a dozen strides and I was at the back door. I’m not great at picking locks, but this one was simple and I was in in less than five minutes. Took less time than that to walk through the place and confirm no one was there. Satisfied I was alone, I settled in to get some intel on my jumper.

  I started in the kitchen. People have a tendency to keep really important stuff in the kitchen. Like their mail, bills, and receipts, which give a history of what they like to do and where they like to do it. I found the junk drawer, crammed full of paper, and then pulled out my phone and started snapping pictures. Folks in this house weren’t big on pizza, but they loved
the Whataburger down the street. According to the receipts, they ate there at all times of the day, but especially late at night. I could appreciate their good taste.

  I also found an account statement for a bank a couple of miles away. Based on last month, looked like someone in the family got regular government checks. I took a picture of the statement, noting the dates of the deposits. When I was done, I shoved the paper back in the drawer. I pulled up the calendar app on my phone. If the someone on the government dole was Mr. Shaw, he was due for another check in the next day or two. I walked to the front door and opened it just wide enough to stick my arm out and feel around for the mailbox. I grabbed a fistful of mail and then pulled the door shut. Mostly junk, but one envelope had that official-looking, might have a check inside look. Shaw’s name beamed through the tiny window of the envelope. I’d bet the buy-in price at Bingo’s it was Shaw’s check. Since it was the weekend, he wouldn’t be making a trip to the bank until Monday, at the earliest. I’d have to start somewhere else if I wanted to find him before then.

  I put the mail back in the box and poked around the rest of the house for a few minutes before I decided Shante’s house was a dead end. It wasn’t even four o’clock. I wasn’t likely to find Shaw and friends dining at the local Whataburger, but I drove by anyway. A quick peek in the window revealed only a few older couples. The smell of French fries was tempting, and I had to force myself not to eat a second lunch. As I considered giving in to temptation, my cell phone buzzed and Mark’s new phone number blared across the screen. I jabbed the talk button. “Hey, little brother, what’s up?”

  “I’m at Dad’s. We’re about to start drinking beer and smoking cigars. Come over.” He hung up before I could conjure up an excuse to miss the fun. Didn’t matter, I was already turning around to head in that direction. It was the best invitation I’d had in a while.

  *

  I drove by Chance’s place on my way to Dad’s. Didn’t know what I expected to find, but the BMW was in the drive and lights were on in the living room. The happy couple was probably watching a movie. Or not. Jess hadn’t seemed too happy last time I’d seen her. I wanted to give her some of her own advice and tell her to just walk away, but she needed to make that decision on her own.

  I circled the block a few times and, once I was satisfied no creepy thugs were hanging out, I left. On my way out of the neighborhood, I saw a patrol car driving slowly down the street. I hoped John had gotten my message and sent someone official to watch out for Jess.

  When I reached Dad’s place, I fished the key from underneath the flowerpot out front and let myself in. I could smell the cigar smoke through the door. So much for Dad’s good training. Couldn’t really blame him, the temperature had dropped another ten degrees since I’d prowled around Shaw’s place and I hadn’t been looking forward to sitting around a fire in the old charcoal grill out back.

  I found Mark and Dad in the kitchen and, judging by the crushed empties, they were well past caring what the place smelled like. “Hey, you two. Early bachelor party?”

  Mark tipped his beer bottle in my direction and shouted, “Look, Dad, it’s the best man!”

  Dad wobbled out of his chair, and pulled me into a bear hug that was mostly about me holding him upright.

  “Whoa there. Seems like you’ve been at this a while.” I helped Dad back into his seat.

  “You spend an entire day trying on tuxes and sampling food and you’d need to drink too.”

  Food? No one said anything about food. Maybe wedding planning wasn’t so bad after all.

  “Took me forever to get Mom to back off the morning coats and top hats.”

  “I don’t even know what a morning coat is. But why is she even involved? Aren’t your lovely bride and her mother supposed to be doing all the planning?”

  “Have you met our mother?”

  “Good point.”

  “We picked out great tuxes. We’re going to look awesome.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Maybe a little. You have something better to do?”

  I considered my options. Sit outside a hamburger joint and wait for a murderer to show up. Sit outside a murderer’s house and wait for him to show up. Roam the streets and hope to run into the murderer. I settled on beer and cigars. I motioned to the fancy case on the table. “Give me one of those.” After I puffed the fat cigar to life, I decided to make use of the captive audience and get some answers.

  I started with Mark. “Why Linda?”

  “Why Linda what?”

  “How do you know she’s the one?” Not sure where I got the whole “one” thing. Dad may have married for life, but Mom sure hadn’t. She was on her fourth number one and none of us expected it to last.

  “I just knew. Know. I can’t explain it.”

  “Try.”

  Dad shifted in his chair. “Hey, you two. Don’t start fighting. Either of you want another beer?”

  “Sure,” I spoke for both of us. “And we’re not fighting. I’m just curious. And Mr. Romance here can certainly come up with an answer if he tries hard enough.”

  Mark drank down the rest of the beer in his hand before he answered. “You’ll laugh if I tell you.”

  I drew my hand across my heart. “I swear I won’t. Now, fess up.”

  “We met at the hospital. In the ER. I’d sliced open my finger cooking dinner for a date, and Linda was the resident who stitched me up.”

  “No way. Was your date there to watch you swoon over your doctor?” He blushed his answer. “Seriously? So you ditched the date who made you cook for one who could sew. Sweet.” I laughed hard until Mark punched me in the arm. “Hey, that hurt!”

  “Lay off. It wasn’t like that. The date was a bust anyway. On some level, cutting myself was the easiest way out of it. She even made me hail the cab for the drive to the hospital, you know, because I’m the guy. We get there and all she wants to do is bitch about how they don’t have any new magazines in the waiting room. It was a Friday night. The ER was full of crazy injuries and all she cared about is the latest issue of Cosmo. She lasted about thirty minutes before I threw her a fifty and told her to get a cab home.”

  “And then you met Dr. Lovely?”

  “Not hardly. Cut hand is a low priority in a busy ER. They gave me something to put on it to stop the bleeding, but I waited about four hours before being stitched up. This big Frankenstein looking guy in scrubs came over and led me to a curtain. I was so busy thinking about how clumsy he looked and how I didn’t want some clumsy guy stitching me up, that I didn’t notice Linda in the room. She had her back to me, but then the guy left me there, and she turned around, and bam. That was it.”

  “No way. ‘That was it’? What does that mean? Hot doctor turns around with a needle in her hand, ready to stitch you up after you’ve spent hours waiting, after what was probably significant blood loss, and what? You instantly fall in love?”

  Mark leaned forward, all intense. “No, see, that’s it. I know I didn’t fall in love right there, but everything else in the world fell away. For about ten seconds, it was me and her and nothing else. No whiny date, no crazy ER. We both just stared at each other. Like we’d met before. An instant connection. It sizzled.”

  “You sure that wasn’t flesh burning in another part of the hospital?”

  “Fine, you can laugh all you want. Point is, I had a feeling and I went with it. I waited a week, then I sent flowers and asked her out.”

  “And now you’re getting married.”

  “Yep. Can you believe it?”

  I didn’t, but the main reason was sitting across the table from both of us. I shot a pointed look at Dad and then stared Mark down. “Maybe I didn’t think it was in our genes to find true love.”

  Dad perked up enough to offer his opinion, complete with slurs. “Whadda mean? True love is grand. Trick is to never let it go once you find it.” He wobbled to his feet. “I gotta pee. Be right back.”

  Mark and I watched him pinball down th
e hallway. Once he was out of sight, I grilled Mark. “How well do you know this woman? You’re really going to move back just because she got a job here? What about your life, your friends back east?”

  “Uh, I haven’t run any background checks on her, but I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t let her be a doctor if she was a crook. Yes, we’re moving back here. In case you forgot, I have ties to Dallas too. Duh. And there’s a big airport here with lots of flights. My friends can visit me and I can visit them, but Linda’s my first priority. That’s what being a grown-up is all about.”

  I did my best to ignore the dig, but I couldn’t deny that my questions for him were a lot like questions I had about my own life but didn’t want to face. Questions I wanted to ask Jess but wouldn’t dare. How well did she know Heather Deveaux? She let her move into her house and ignored her friends for the sake of a woman. And how about those background checks? A quick check might have turned up reasons not to date the hot doctor. Why hadn’t Jess told me about her budding relationship? Why did I care so much? Why was I having such a hard time stopping?

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you think you’ll get married someday?”

  I was saved from answering, when Dad chimed in, “Yeah, Luca, what about that nice cop that hung out at the hospital when you were all shot up?”

  Okay, so I was only delayed from answering. Thanks, Dad. “That nice cop isn’t as nice as she seems. And she’s just a friend.” A friend I used to get naked with on a regular basis. Now we just do middle of the night missions together and I go home alone while she curls up with her lawbreaker lover.

  Mark wasn’t going to let me off the hook so easily. “I have no idea who you’re talking about, but if not the nice cop, then maybe someone else? Seriously, Luca, you’ve never even considered settling down?”

  I hadn’t, not in the way he meant. I owned a car outright, I worked for myself, I’d lived in the same apartment for years. To me, that was settling down. Mark and Dad believed you weren’t truly settled down until you were coupled up—a notion I wasn’t buying. Besides, what woman was going to change to fit my lifestyle? And I for sure wasn’t changing for anyone. My fling with Ronnie Moreno this past summer had been a study in how certain lives don’t mix. Fancy house, fancy car, big aspirations. I’d known from the start it wouldn’t work out, yet I’d let myself get a little too close. No good came of it, and I wasn’t going back there. A fling maybe, but settling down? No way I’d ever even consider it. Not unless I could find someone like me.