Home Free (30 page)

She looked skeptical.

“I practiced on Jack last week,” I
offered.

“JESUS CHRIST, were you ever planning to tell
me any of this? I thought that was just another stupid rumor.”

“I’ve been gone a long time. I’m not in the
habit of informing you every time I get laid.”

“Hunh. Like it happens so often. So. How was
he?”

“Jack?”

“No, I know how Jack is, dumb-ass. Danny.”
One eyebrow went up and stayed there. “As good as you
remembered?”

I didn’t feel comfortable talking about it,
not because I have any scruples whatsoever, but because I thought
it would be really embarrassing to have an orgasm driving down
McKinley Street with my best friend. I decided to go with vague,
and try to think about something boring, like spaghetti, while I
told her. “Yeah, even better, actually.” Spaghetti with marinara
sauce. I don’t even like marinara sauce.

“And?”

And I was getting hot, and I couldn’t breathe
right and I thought I might wreck the car. And for some reason,
pasta was sounding tasty.

By the time we arrived at the station, no one
but the desk sergeant was in sight. Pauline and I sat on the bench
and waited. The adrenaline rush had ebbed, and we were both
exhausted. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall. I
heard a door open and close, but I didn’t budge. I wasn’t sure I
had the strength to lift my eyelids. I finally peeled them open
when I heard Jimmy C call my name. He looked tired, and I worried
that I was going to annoy him again.

“Come on back, Alex.”

I got up and went through the reception area
and on into the inner office. Jimmy C took me to his desk, not an
interrogation room.

“I listened to the tape.” No expression.
“We’re playing it for Brian now, and I’m sure he’ll give us a
written confession.” His face was still a blank.

I breathed a sigh. “What if he doesn’t? Is
the tape admissible?” I’d had a lingering fear that it was somehow
an illegal recording. I had visions of me in jail instead of Brian,
which would really fry me after all the trouble he’d caused.

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “Jesus, Alex, what
were you thinking? Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I did come to you. You were hell-bent on it
being the Salazars and Kevin. And until Mikey got Brian to confess,
I had nothing to tell you. We figured out it probably was Brian,
but I couldn’t prove it, and I had no idea why he did it.”

“We found a ledger book in Chambers’ car when
he died. I just checked. It was in code, but I was able to crack
it.” He made a wry face. “There were several entries over the past
couple years for the initials B.J., cocaine buys. Then, more
recently, three larger entries. Five thousand, ten thousand and
another ten. The tape is probably enough, but with the ledger,
there’s no doubt. Your brother is going away for a long time,
whether he confesses to us or not.”

Better him than me, I thought, but still I
found no pleasure in his ruin. Then I thought of my parents. Tears
sprang to my eyes. This was going to kill them. I wondered if we
could get a group discount on therapy.

“What about Kevin and Danny?”

“Obviously, they’re not being charged. We’re
taking their statements regarding what happened this afternoon,
being kidnapped by Brian’s guys, and then they’ll be free to go.
Junior as well. He’s almost done because most of what he has to
tell us is on the tape. Plus, he needs to get to the hospital.”

I winced. I hadn’t seen Mikey yet. I got a
glimpse of him when they brought him out of the office, but I
hadn’t seen him up close.

“Do you need a statement from me?”

“Yeah, but you can come in tomorrow. We’ll
need to know about the man who attacked you at your house, and you
can fill in some details for me. Like why you didn’t bother to call
me about that.”

I hadn’t said anything about the attack last
night, and Brian hadn’t mentioned it on the tape. Unless it was the
part I missed when I was calling Jimmy C. “How do you know about
that?”

“Junior’s statement.”

“Right.”

“Oh, one more thing.” He opened his desk
drawer and removed the Glock and the clip, then slid them both
across the table towards me. “I’m sure you’ll see to it this gets
returned to the friend who loaned it to you, right?”

“Did you run the serial number?”

“Yeah. It’s legal.” He was watching me,
smirking.

Is that a fact? “Uh, Jimmy C, it’s been kind
of a crazy day and I’m a little confused about who I borrowed the
gun from. Can you remind me?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Rose,
Alex. You borrowed it from Rose Salazar.”

I smacked my hand to my forehead. “Right, I
remember now. Thanks.”

He groaned. “Why don’t you go get some rest.
You look like hell.” That was certainly the consensus.

“Thanks.” I flipped him off. Then I said,
“Really, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I shuffled into the hallway and saw Mikey
coming out of the interrogation room. I had to stifle a cry. He
looked like he’d been run over by one of his gravel trucks. Both
eyes were black, his lip was cut and bleeding, his cheek was
swollen, his shirt was open from where Bruno had ripped it,
revealing black and blue ribs. He held his hand to his side,
pressing in on the ribs, and he winced when he walked. Tears filled
my eyes. He hobbled over to where I was standing.

“Hunh-uh, none of that. Come here.” He took
my hand and pulled me along, steering me down the hall. He opened
the door to the men’s room, checked to make sure it was unoccupied,
then ushered me in, locking the door behind us.

“God, I’m so sorry,” I stammered, still
taking in his injuries. “I didn’t think - ”

“I’m not. Your plan wasn’t responsible for
this, Alex. Brian brought Bruno along for a reason, to make sure I
went along with
his
plan. I would have ended up looking like
this no matter what, but thanks to you, it wasn’t for nothing. So,
thank you.”

I was staring at him now. He was bruised and
battered and looked like death warmed over, but he also looked like
a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and his eyes shone with
exhilaration.

He answered as if he’d read my mind. “I
killed a man, Alex, I have to live with that. But, you know,
helping the cops get the bad guy and all, now maybe people will
honestly believe I’ve changed. Maybe people won’t automatically
assume the worst.” He paused and gave me a look. “You and Danny get
everything worked out after I left last night?”

I shrugged. “He was speaking to me when he
left this morning. Now, I kind of doubt it.”

“Want me to kick his ass for you?” He grinned
and winced, tasting the blood on his lip.

“Thanks, I’ll pass. I just want to get him to
talk to me again.” And hopefully do that thing with his tongue...
My mind drifted a minute to a happy place, until I heard Mikey
clear his throat.

“Uh, Alex?”

“Hunh?” I looked up. Stupid ESP. He was
laughing now, holding his ribs. Smartass. “I hope it hurts,” I
snarled.

When we got out of the bathroom, the
paramedics were waiting for Mikey, Pauline was waiting for Kevin,
and my parents and Melody were waiting to find out what the hell
was going on. I guessed Brian had used his phone call to contact
his wife, and she’d called my parents. I had the desk sergeant buzz
Jimmy C for me, and he invited us all back into an interrogation
room to wait. They weren’t allowed to see Brian because the police
were still taking his statement, but Jimmy C and I filled them in
on the charges, leaving out the more disturbing details. They’d
find out soon enough, but let them deal with one heartbreak at a
time, I figured. It was an awful scene, and I left them alone to
wait. I felt like the family Judas. I knew I’d done nothing wrong,
but I still felt like they’d kill the messenger, given half a
chance.

“I’m outta here,” I said to Pauline as I
entered the waiting area once again. “You can come with and wait at
my house, if you want.”

“No, I’ll stay here. It can’t take that much
longer, can it?”

I glanced at my watch. It felt like days
since I’d been at the body shop, taping my brother’s decline and
fall. In reality, it’d only been a few hours. It was just before
eight o’clock, not even completely dark out yet.

I’d been walking around with Rose’s gun in my
pants, but I knew it wasn’t a good idea to carry a concealed
weapon, so when I got to the car, I dumped it and the clip onto the
front seat. In case I got stopped for a speeding ticket, I didn’t
want to get arrested for a weapons violation. I wasn’t sure how the
cops would feel about a gun in the front seat, but at least it
wasn’t concealed. I drove home, feeling a lot like a piece of
spaghetti that had been left in the pot too long, and I thought a
nice long shower would be just the thing. Unfortunately, when I
pulled into my driveway, Debbie was in her yard, feeding cats and
watering plants, waving me down like an air traffic controller.

Too tired to deal with my purse and shopping
bags, I put the car in park, smacked the clip into place, tucked
the gun into the back of my jeans and pulled my t-shirt out over
it. I locked the car with the thingy, plastered on a smile and
said, “Hey, Debbie.”

“Oh, Alexis, I’m so glad to see you.” She had
put down the hose and switched to wringing her hands, so I didn’t
think this was likely to be one of those enjoyable conversations I
had heard of other neighbors having. “Did you hear a gunshot last
night?”

“Well, I might have heard something. Maybe it
was a car backfiring?” I sighed. It was all going to be in the
papers tomorrow, and if I lied now, I could kiss neighborly
relations goodbye. And I wasn’t ready to give up my weekly batch of
free cookies. “Actually, Debbie, it was a gunshot. Do you have any
cookies?” Lucifer appeared and sat down next to me, licking his
front paw and looking bored.

“It was! Oh, dear. Well, maybe we should
start a neighborhood watch program. I’ve heard those are wonderful
deterrents to crime.”

“That’s a great idea, Debbie. I nominate you
as president. Now, about those cookies.”

“I was just getting ready to put a big batch
of brownies in the oven. Why don’t you come on in?”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

We were in her kitchen, cats galore. I
wondered which one was the retarded cat that fell in the pool, and
if the other cats made fun of it. Debbie started the brownies
baking, and I started at the beginning. I knew her stock would go
up at the post office tomorrow. Good gossip like that, from one of
the principle players, was as good as a winning lottery ticket in a
town like Minter. She might even get a date. I wrapped up the story
and stood to leave.

“Thanks, Alex. I’ll bring over some brownies
in a few minutes. You can have the whole batch. I’ll make more to
take to work.”

“Uh, Debbie, can you loan me some milk, too?
I think Jack finished off all of mine. I’ll repay you as soon as I
get to the supermarket.”

She shrugged, smiling. “That’s what neighbors
are for.” She hugged me, and I hugged her back. She was weird, but
she was okay.

I trudged across our yards and up the front
steps. It was dark now, and I flipped on the porch light when I got
inside, along with the lights in the living room. I threw my mail
on the hall table and looked in the mirror. I had black streaks on
my face from where I’d smudged the soot, and I looked like I hadn’t
slept since the Clinton administration, but my new earrings were
pretty cool. The doorbell rang, and I opened it with only one
thought on my mind. Brownies.

It wasn’t brownies. It was Ski Mask. He
shoved me back, hard, and I ran into the hall table but regained my
balance and backed away into the living room. He was waving his
knife around again. Shit, I thought. Brian never called him
off.

“You should really check the peephole before
you open the door. You never know who might be out there.”

I found his attire bizarre, shorts and
flip-flops in honor of the heat, with a t-shirt and ski mask. What
all the rapists are wearing this season. I backed around the easy
chair, keeping it between us. He didn’t make a move to get closer.
He wanted to talk first. “Did you miss me, whore?” That sounded
familiar somehow.

“My brother is already in jail, you know.
You’re not going to get paid for this.” With my luck, Brian had
paid him in full in advance.

“What are you talking about?”

Uh-oh. “My brother didn’t hire you?”

Crazy cackle of laughter. That can’t be good,
I thought.

“This isn’t about money, bitch. Didn’t you
get my welcome home notes?”

I thought. Did you miss me? Whore. The exact
words in two of the sparkly love letters I’d gotten. So the fashion
disaster rapist was my secret admirer. Good to know.

“It’s payback.” He peeled off the ski mask. I
gasped. Derek. “You know what it feels like to have every one of
your fingers broken?”

“Jesus, Derek, are you insane?” Stupid
question. I was confused. He seemed somehow out of context and I
had trouble getting my cobwebby brain around the situation. An
image flashed in my mind of a man jogging down my street and the
dozens of hang-ups on my phone. Another thought followed.

“Crap, is that your piece of shit Escort
that’s been around here lately?”

“You drive that freakmobile out there, and
you call my car a piece of shit? Bitch.” I took that as a yes. He
looked around the room, brandished the knife. “What, no armed thugs
tonight? Bummer for you, bitch.”

I was sick and tired of him calling me
bitch
. I’d had a shitty day. I was hot and filthy and I
wanted my brownies, and I was just too damn pissed to be scared
anymore. I knew I couldn’t outrun him, even in his ridiculous
flip-flops. And I knew no one was coming to my rescue this time,
not Danny or Mikey or the cops. Hunh, I thought. Like I need anyone
to rescue
me
. The cobwebs cleared, and I reached behind my
back and pulled out the Glock, chambering a round and leveling the
gun at his stupid head.