Rigged (21 page)

On the ride back to the warehouse, Charlie took his time. He really wasn’t in much of a hurry, things were pretty much under control. He had the meth and The Baker, so Damon would have to operate under his terms. All in all, Charlie felt pretty good about himself and his endeavor. Under other circumstances, he might have been a little smug, but he kept thinking about Kay and when he’d seen her lying there on that cold slab. She looked so old, more like his mother had looked the last he could remember her, only different. Kay wasn’t even thirty, but she looked at least forty. Her eyes were so sunken, and her skin looked as if it had been hanging lifelessly off of her bones for years. Charlie thought maybe she’d put weight on since the last time he’d seen her, and the meth had really screwed with her looks. She’d always been pretty, even if she didn’t know what to do with those God-given good looks. Charlie blamed their parents’ split-up for his sister’s inability to behave properly with men, even when she was younger. She needed a father figure, but for the life of him, Charlie couldn’t figure out how she’d equate that to a man like Damon. He hadn’t even met the guy yet, but he was certain he wasn’t role model material.

The ringing of a cell phone snapped Charlie from his memories, and he looked around the cab for the source. In the driver’s console, a small, silver flip-phone vibrated with a restricted phone number. Charlie ignored it; he wasn’t much for prying, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood to talk. The phone stopped ringing for a moment, then started again. Once again, it was a restricted number, and once again Charlie ignored it. He assumed it was Damon, looking for The Baker, but Charlie wasn’t quite ready to deal with that. 

Another ring came, but it was a different tone. Charlie looked at the phone and saw that a text message had arrived. He flipped the phone open and read, “PICK UP THE PHONE, CHARLIE.” He found that quite curious, and when the phone rang again, he flipped it open. “Hello?” he said.

On the other end, he heard a whimpering sound, then, “Charlie?” The shaking voice belonged to Dee Dee.

“What’s wrong? How did you get this number? How did you know it would be me?” Charlie knew it was too many questions at once, and he had to calm down.

The voice changed. “So, this is Charlie,” the deep voice said.

“And you are?”

“Rook.”

Charlie didn’t hesitate. “Well, call back when I can talk with the king,” Charlie said. “I haven’t time for pawns.” Then he flipped the phone closed, and took a hard right, pointing the truck to the quickest route out of town. He wondered what kind of a reaction he’d just provoked.

The phone rang again.

“Is this the king? Or at least a knight?”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Rook said.

Charlie flipped the phone closed again.

The phone rang again, and Charlie let it ring four times before answering.

This time, Rook spoke first. “Hang up on me again, and this bitch is dead.”

Charlie didn’t say anything, as he wasn’t entirely sure the best way to play it out. It certainly wasn’t in his plan for Dee Dee to get involved. He said the only thing he could think of to buy himself time. “So go ahead and kill her.” Charlie flipped the phone closed again.

Rook looked Dee Dee up and down, still holding his cell phone in his hand, somewhat dumbfounded. “He told me to kill you, and hung up.” He stared at Dee Dee. “I guess he doesn’t care about you after all.” Before Dee Dee could say anything Rook cracked her with a back hand that knocked her a foot away. He stared at her, eyes swollen with tears, her hand on her cheek. “You better hope he doesn’t hang up again.”

There was no sound in the truck cab as Charlie rolled along. He thought about Dee Dee and whoever Rook was. He wondered if it was worth getting sidetracked at all. When the phone rang again, he answered it. “Yeah?”

“She’s dead.”

Charlie kept driving. “Then why bother calling?” he asked, his voice as cold as the frigid billowing past the truck windows.

“She’s not dead yet, but she will be if you click this shit off in my ear one more time. You want that on your conscience, assuming you have one?”

“I’ve got worse things on my conscience than a dead stripper,” Charlie said. He heard a slap and scream on the other end. Charlie cursed to himself. He hated having his bluff called and he hated that it was because of a woman he shouldn’t have been close with in the first place.

“Here’s the deal,” Rook said. “I couldn’t care less about her or you. I just want the drugs. Tell me where the drugs are, and I’ll let her go.”

The truck bounced through the darkness of the North Dakota plains, lit only by headlights and the silver-dollar moon. “How will I know she’s away and safe?” Charlie asked.

“Good point. Maybe you should come here and get her.”

“And how do I know that’s safe?” Charlie asked.

“You don’t, but it’s that or I put a bullet in her head, mind you not until I let the boys run a train on her for a couple days.”

Charlie clenched his jaw. There weren’t any options, and he had to go to her, but that meant he needed to get to a graveyard first. “Fine. I’ll be there, but I’m over an hour out of town.”

“Sixty minutes, and the bitch is dead.”

The phone went dead, and Charlie gunned the acceleration. The truck bounced and bottomed out more than a few times as Charlie swerved it off the road. He pounded the steering wheel, as if that would convince the truck to move faster. He didn’t have much time, and was going to need a ride.

Chapter 23

Rook was on the motel bed watching TV, his tailored suit coat hung over a chair to keep it from wrinkling. He was just about ready to order a skin flick when Trey, one of the dope pushers from the west side he oversaw, looked over from the window and said, “Hey, a guy in a porkpie hat just walked into the parking lot.” Rook had five guys with him—Trey, Stony, Marcus, and two men he didn’t know, but he was glad to have them for the extra guns, if nothing else. Rook stood up and walked to the window, pulling Dee Dee along with him; he knew she could verify that it was, in fact, Charlie. From the second level window Rook could see Charlie’s hands were out of his pockets, and he was alone. There wasn’t even a car anywhere around.

Three guns aimed at the door when Charlie knocked, and Trey pulled him inside quickly, spun him against the wall, and patted him down. When they were sure he didn’t have any weapons on him, they spun him back around, till he was facing Rook, looking down on him since he was a few inches taller.

“Where’s the stuff?” Rook asked. “The boys went to get the last of the shit from the bunker, and it was gone, along with The Baker.”

“Well, as you can see, I’ve got neither on me,” Charlie said, “though your boys did forget to check my ass. Want me to bend over so you can check for yourself?”

For being a wise-ass, Rook punched him right under the diaphragm, and Charlie fell back against the wall, wheezing for breath. “I’m not gonna ask again,” Rook said as he pointed his Colt .45 at Dee Dee’s head.

“It’s outside of town,” Charlie said with a cough.

“Where?” Rook asked.

“Not really an address. I just sorta ditched it, so I’ll have to take you there if you want it.”

“You trying to play me?” Rook asked, moving his face up next to Charlie’s.

“No,” Charlie said. “Just let Dee Dee go, and I’ll take you to the stuff. If you touch her, there’ll be no reason for me to say another word, and that shit will never be found. If that happens, I’m guessing I’ll only have to wait a few hours in hell before you show up.”

Rook smiled a little; he kind of liked the guy’s attitude, not that it changed his mind about having to kill him.

“Rook,” Dee Dee said from the bed, her voice pitiful, drawing all eyes to her, “I want to go now.”

Dee Dee regretted her tone as soon as her words met the air, but it was too late. She just wanted it all to be over.

Rook looked back at Charlie and took too much delight in the expression on the man’s face, an expression of a man betrayed.

Charlie didn’t move, but Dee Dee wasn’t so sure that it was because there was a gun to his head. For just a second, he looked surprised to see her talk to Rook, but whatever that look was, it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“So that’s it?” Charlie asked. “You get your pound of silver and leave me to hang?”

“Don’t you dare try to turn this on me. You tried to use me to hide from Damon and didn’t tell me what kind of danger you were in,” Dee Dee said as she walked over to Rook. “Those guys I told you about at the club were asking about a guy in a porkpie hat.”

“That’s a two-way street, darlin’,” Charlie said. “You weren’t exactly forthcoming about your social life. Or did you think I wouldn’t notice the subtle text messaging and abbreviated phone calls? At least you have taste in dapper-looking guys.”

“You should have told me about this guy sooner,” Rook said and gave Dee Dee a deep kiss.

“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry,” Dee Dee said. She knew Rook was mad, but there was no reason to do anything other than put on the sweet-face routine till she could get out the door and forget Charlie Kelly had ever stepped into her life. She couldn’t believe she’d let Charlie sweet-talk her. She felt so stupid. She should have known Rook was her best chance to get more out of Bluff Falls
.
Dee Dee ran her fingers up Rook’s chest, just the way he liked it.

Rook looked her up and down with that look Dee Dee knew well. “You should get out of here. You don’t need to see this,” Rook said. “Meet me back at my place.”

“Oh come on,” Charlie said as he looked back and forth at the guns pointed at him. “I think she should see this through to the end. She’s a big girl. She made her bed, and even though she’s already slept in it…well, you know what I mean.”

Dee Dee’s heart started to pound so hard that she was sure her tank-top was bouncing. She looked over at Rook and saw an expression she could only compare to as a ticking time bomb, one she needed to defuse.

“What’s he talking about?” Rook asked.

“Nothing, baby. He’s just scared, so he’s talking nonsense,” Dee Dee said. Her eyes shot daggers aimed at Charlie’s head.

Charlie laughed. “Are you kidding me? You didn’t bother to ask her how she knew me? Do you think I was just crashing on her couch? Jesus. Some guys really believe their Columbus, huh? Tell you what. If you want, I’ll do my best to imitate that little noise she makes just after she has an orgasm.” Charlie looked Rook right in the eyes. “Unless maybe you don’t know that noise. I mean, I’m not here to judge or anything if you haven’t been able to flip her switch yet.”

The son-of-a-bitch sounded like he was having fun, and Dee Dee just wanted someone to shoot him to shut him up. She even thought about grabbing one of the guns and doing it herself.

Rook looked over at Dee Dee, then at Charlie. “Are you kidding me? You slept with this guy?”

In that instant, panic washed over her face. “No. I swear, he’s lying,” Dee Dee pleaded. “He’s just trying to save himself by confusing you and throwing me under the bus.”

“Darlin’, if I remember correctly, I was on top of that ride just as much as under it,” Charlie said, adding insult to an already ruinous situation.

Rook shook his head and stared at Dee Dee. “I think you’re the one around here who’s confused, Dee. The jazzman here does have a point. How is it that you know him so well? Was he just on the couch or what?”

“Baby, it’s always been only you,” Dee Dee said, but Rook had the look of a man on the edge, and she had no idea what words to utter to make it better. She did the only thing she could think of: she swatted at one of the thugs and wrestled the gun from his hand. It wasn’t nearly as hard as Dee Dee would have thought, the guy was shorter than her and shell shocked that she would make a play for his gun. She needed to shut Charlie up and end it all before Rook could piece together that Charlie was telling the truth. If only Rook would listen. If only she could make Charlie shut up, she could explain how to Rook how nice and sweet Charlie acted, how confused he made her. It was a mistake, and she’d known better. She knew Rook was the one to take care of her, but Charlie had said all the right things at all the right times. He’d messed with her head, and now it was time for her to return the favor. 

It was only the second time she’d ever held a gun in her life, but she moved it next to Charlie’s head, hoping that a pull of the trigger would solve all her problems. She wanted to see the fear in his eyes before he died so she would know that he regretted messing with her life. The trouble was, she didn’t see any fear; he just kind of stared at her with those lazy eyes and didn’t say anything.

She heard the sound of a hammer cocking behind her, like that long, drawn-out, exaggerated sound from every action movie she’d ever watched. It was a scary sound in person, she realized, so it made sense that Hollywood used it to amplify tension. She thought about doing the same thing to Charlie, to scare him and kill him before Rook had the chance to. She knew Rook was the only one who could have cocked the gun behind her, and she knew he was pointing it at Charlie, he’d kill Charlie so she didn’t have—

Bang
.

There was confusion all around, and Charlie could feel the strain on the walls of the room itself. If it had been the first time he’d seen someone shot, he would have been a little more tense himself, but as it was, he just hoped none of that tension would inspire the itchy trigger fingers of any of the guys around him. Rook had put one in the back of Dee Dee’s pretty little head before she could raise her gun all the way, and Charlie wanted to thank the man, but he was pretty sure that would only make matters worse. He couldn’t deny feeling some pity as he looked down at what was left of the dancer though. At least it was quick
way to die, should they all be so fortunate when the time came.

“Now,” Rook said, his gun back at his side, “the question is what to do with this guy that tramp was whoring around with.”

Charlie had endured more than his fair share of loquacious moments. Fortunately, his filter worked pretty well when guns were involved, so he opted not to make any suggestions.