Killing The Rat (An Organized Crime Thriller) (17 page)

But the fact was, she hadn’t intended to steal so much of it. She’d only really needed about five grand. How was she supposed to have known that there was all this? She started to count it, but gave up.

There was at least a hundred thousand here.

Maybe there was a statute of limitations. After a year or so it would just be hers.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the handsome head of her favorite news anchor. She reached for the remote and saw the little icon next to one of his rugged shoulders.

It said “Homicide,” with a chalk outline next to it.

She thumbed the mute button and caught: “in the Prescott Hotel in Ann Arbor. The unidentified male was found shot to death early this afternoon. She thumbed the mute button and caught: “Again, we have just learned the identify of the victim. His name was Dominic Abrocci, he was forty-one years old and found shot to death early this afternoon.”

“Well, well,” a voice said behind her. She whirled, her heart in her throat.

Dexter smiled at her. The gun in his hand was pointed nonchalantly at the center of her chest.

His eyes lifted and gazed over Loreli’s shoulder.

“You did have a little bit more,” he said.

41.

Loreli was stunned. This couldn’t be happening. She stared at Dexter. He was here. Standing in her house. It was like her life couldn’t get surreal enough.

And Liam.

Where was Liam?

This couldn’t be happening, she thought. It absolutely could not be happening. Please, she thought, not Liam. Not again. As if by telepathy, the little boy squirted through the opening between Dexter and the doorjamb, and raced behind Loreli, clinging to her legs.

“Take it,” she said. She gestured with a tilt of her head. “Take the money.”

She looked into Dexter’s eyes. They were greenish with a slight blue tint. They were twinkling at her. He was clearly enjoying this.

“Take it all. Just get out of my house. Right now.” She moved away from the money, giving Dexter a straight shot into the room.

“You’re right, honey,” he said. “I will be taking that money.”

Loreli heard Liam sob. She reached down and clutched his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said.

Dexter stepped into the room and pressed the gun against Loreli’s forehead. “How do you know everything’s going to be okay? You can’t give the little shit a distorted view of the world – when he grows up, it’ll be a giant disappointment to him. When he’s fifty years old, single, broke, with a drinking problem, he’ll hear your voice saying, ‘it’s all going to be okay,’ and then he’ll curse your memory.”

He smiled at her, and brought the gun down to his side.

“Just take the money and go.”

“Why don’t we put the boy in the living room and have some fun?”

“Go to hell,” she said.

“What was such a nice bitch like you doing with Ted? Jesus Christ, the generosity of women overwhelms me at times.”

“Ted and I are done.”

“About time, babe.”

“He’s got nothing to do with me and I’ve got nothing to do with him. Any future problems, I’ve got nothing to do with them, do you understand?”

“Honey, the problem you should be worrying about is standing right in front of you. You really shouldn’t be thinking about problems
in the future
, because you’ve got a big one right now. And it’s fixing to bust right out of the front of my pants. You understand?”

Loreli saw the bulge at Dexter’s crotch. For the first time since all of this had happened, she really wanted to cry. Just throw herself on her bed and bawl like a baby. But she couldn’t do it. She had to get this man out of her house first. And to do that, she knew what she had to do.

“Liam, go in the kitchen and finish your ravioli.”

“I already did.”

“Then watch some t.v. in the living room.”

“Can I watch a video?”

Jesus Christ, she thought. “Yes, you can watch a video, now go.”

But suddenly, Dexter was gone. He landed a few feet away. Before her, stood Ted. The remains of a kitchen chair were in his hands.

“You knew I couldn’t just leave, babe,” he said.

***

Loreli found her legs and got to her feet, albeit unsteadily. She turned around and hugged Liam tightly to his chest. This insanity had to end, she thought. She was calling the cops. It didn’t matter at this point if she got into trouble, lost her job, whatever. None of that mattered, in the end. She had to protect Liam, and she had to protect herself. Liam was counting on her.

“Good thing I did, too. I’ve been meaning to get even with that dick for duct taping me to the chair. Hey, I wonder if this is the same chair?” he looked at it in his hands. “What do they call that? Ironic?”

“Moronic,” Loreli said. She walked to Ted and put her hands on his shoulders. “Ted, thank you. I owe you that. But that’s it. I want you out, right now.”

He started to protest, but Loreli said, “I’m going to call the cops. Unless you want to explain this whole mess in person with the cops, and have them search you and your car for any drugs, I suggest you get out of here right now. And no, I’m not kidding.”

“But,” Ted started, then stopped abruptly.

“I’m sorry. Thanks again, but we’re through. Leave,” she said. She stepped back, pointed at Dexter’s inert body and said, “And take him with you. It’s because of your bullshit he’s here, so he’s your responsibility. Get him out of here.”

Ted looked soberly at Dexter, his arms spread out to either side. “Okay, but I’m going to need your help.”

Loreli nodded, then said to Liam, “Let’s go put a video in for you, okay, honey?”

“Little Bear?” His young face was pale, and Loreli could see tears pooling, about to come streaming down his face.

“Little Bear it is.”

Loreli took Liam into his bedroom and put the video on, then came back to her bedroom where Ted was standing over Dexter.

“Put the money back,” Loreli said.

“What?” Ted’s eyes were wide. Innocent.

“Put the money back. It’s not yours.”

Ted hesitated, then pulled a thick bundle of bills from his pocket. “I don’t think it’s yours, either.”

“I’m giving it back to who owns it. Trust me. You don’t want to get messed up with it. My life has gone to shit.”

“Are you sure you want me to go?” Ted asked.

Loreli looked at him.

“Okay, okay,” he said.

They each took a leg and dragged Dexter to the front door. He was heavy, and both of them felt the strain of lifting his body. Loreli was scared he would wake up and start getting violent, but Ted had apparently cracked him at the base of the skull, because she could see the blood that had seeped down his back and stained his shirt.

She had a feeling he wouldn’t be waking up real soon.

“What should I do with him?” Ted asked.

“Dump him out on the freeway. When you’re doing about seventy-five.”

He straightened up. “I can’t do that!”

Loreli looked at him evenly. “I was kidding. Take him back to his house and dump him on his front step. If the neighbors see you, say he’s drunk.”

Loreli opened the door.

Tommy Abrocci smiled at her. Showed her the gun in his hand.

“Hi, honey,” he said. “Mind if I come in?”

42.

They were calmly sitting in the living room, the suitcase full of money on the coffee table. From the back bedroom, they could hear the t.v. going, sounds of Little Bear and his friends learning the lessons of life.

The adults were learning, too.

“You shouldn’t have screwed with me, bitch,” Tommy said.

From behind Tommy came the rustling of a plastic shopping bag. Ted’s eyes glanced behind Tommy and then widened.

Tommy caught the expression but it was too late.

Dexter slammed the plastic bag down over Tommy’s head and pulled it tight, then wrapped his muscled forearm around his neck. He reached for the gun with his free hand.

Tommy clubbed Dexter’s face with the gun. When it hit Dexter’s face, his finger tightened convulsively.

He pulled the trigger.

Ted flew backward, a blossom of red staining his shirt. The slug took him dead center in the chest.

For a brief moment, Dexter froze, looking at the inert body of Ted on the floor. Tommy slid down the couch, out from beneath Dexter’s arm and his face slid out of the shopping bag.

He was getting to his feet when Dexter leapt from the couch and landed on top of him. They rolled on the ground, Dexter’s superior strength briefly giving him the advantage, before Tommy’s extra fifty pounds got it back.

Loreli raced from the kitchen, past the struggling duo on the living room floor, into the bedroom. She found Liam sitting on his bed.

“Come on!” she screamed.

Liam jumped as if he’d been poked by sharp needles. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“Where are we going Mommy?”

“Come on!” she yelled.

Loreli grabbed Liam’s hand and raced through the living room.

Dexter and Tommy were struggling for control of the gun. Ted was moaning softly on the floor.

Loreli turned to Liam.

“Go through the kitchen into the garage. Get in my car and wait for me. Do it. Now!”

“Mommy!”

“Go, Liam. I’ll be there in a second.”

Loreli’s heart was racing. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed a kitchen towel and ran back into the living room. She went to Ted and looked at his bloody chest. Ted’s face was pale. His lips were turning purple.

“Oh my God,” Loreli said.

She ripped Ted’s shirt open and saw the ugly little hole in the center of his chest.

As she watched, a small bubble escaped from the wound. Loreli thought that meant a lung had been hit.

She knew that the hole in front was small, but that the one in back was probably a lot bigger and a lot messier. She also knew that if she turned him over, it would do more harm than good.

Loreli thought of calling 911, but knew that her neighbor, Mrs. Olson, the world’s snoopiest woman, had no doubt already done so.

Tommy and Dexter had rolled to the far side of the living room. Loreli watched as Tommy drove an elbow into Dexter’s face. He toppled backwards, still holding onto Tommy, and they both crashed into the entertainment center. The whole thing came down with a crash.

Loreli turned and stopped. The money was there. Her first thought was to leave it.

Her second thought was stronger.

She slammed the top of the suitcase shut, zipped it up, yanked it off the coffee table and ran through the kitchen.

From the other room, she heard multiple gunshots and a horrible, wailing scream.

Loreli got Liam into the car.

She threw the suitcase into the trunk.

It was time to go.

***

Tommy and Dexter stood motionless in a final embrace. Dexter had three gunshot wounds sprayed across his chest, Tommy had a knife driven directly into his heart.

They both sank to their knees then toppled over, dying within seconds of each other.

And neither one of them lived long enough to hear the sound from the garage of the car leaving.

43.

Loreli clenched the steering wheel as tightly as she could; it was the only way she could keep her hands from shaking. Her stomach was in knots.

She had to go to the cops. It was that simple. She had to. If she didn’t, she’d be in even more trouble than she already was. Loreli gunned the Camry down 13 Mile Road. She glanced in the rearview mirror.

“Is your seatbelt on?”

A tiny voice, “Yeah, Mom.”

And then, “Mom?”

“I know you’ve got a lot of questions right now,” Loreli said, her eyes bouncing back and forth between the road ahead and the rearview mirror’s depiction of the traffic behind her. “But Mommy can’t answer them. I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.” She felt tears start to well up and she fought them back.

Loreli ran a yellow light and caromed onto Van Dyke Avenue, heading south toward 696. She zoomed ahead, and on her left, she saw the exit for the Warren City Hall, Warren Chamber of Commerce and last but not least, the Warren Police Department.

Her foot moved from the accelerator to the brake. She swerved into the middle lane and made a fast turn. Loreli’s heart was thudding like a bass drum during a Homecoming parade.

What am I doing, she thought. Another voice responded, you’re doing what’s right. Just go in, give the money back, and let the law figure it out. You were an innocent bystander. You heard someone being murdered, and ran, unwittingly taking a suitcase full of money with you.

She shuddered at the idiocy of that thought.

Then again, you work for one of the best law firms in Detroit, for God’s sake. They’ll get you off with nothing more than a wrist slap.

Loreli pulled into the parking lot just beyond a row of white police cruisers. She saw the entrance up ahead. Two glass doors. Beyond, she could see a desk. She also noted the video cameras covering the entrance.

A wrist slap, sure, she thought. Immediately followed by a pink slip from her boss.