Tempted by Trouble (27 page)

“Eddie Coyle?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re going to shoot me, then shoot me. Otherwise put the gun away.”

Eddie Coyle put his gun back inside his pocket. “Don’t attack me again, Dmytryk.”

Unfazed by his thinly veiled threat, I said, “You’ve been planning this withdrawal since I met you.”

“I’d considered other avenues, but my mind always came back to this one.”

Eddie Coyle said that once upon a time he thought about robbing a strip club, but too many of the patrons had guns either on their person or in the trunks of their cars, and security was nothing but gorillas on steroids carrying loaded guns. He wanted to go where there was plenty of money and the likelihood of there being zero guns.

I said, “So you decided to rob Jesus or Moses or Jehovah or whoever their CEO is.”

“You have the wrong perspective. I’m talking about making a withdrawal from a big business. A place for the capitalistic to congregate for the price of ten percent of their income as cover charge.”

“Get to the end of the sermon. Hurry up so the choir can start singing.”

“And we’re not the first to rob a church. They have been getting hacked for years.”

I didn’t say anything. My hand had begun to ache from the blow. I was disappointed that my blow had only knocked him to the ground and didn’t knock him into the netherworld, or at least leave him sprawled out and unconscious. My father had thrown a blow and killed a man in the ring. I wanted to hit Eddie Coyle and watch his head explode, like Sammy’s had.

Eddie Coyle rubbed his face, spat out blood. “At the risk of sounding redundant and a tad bit paranoid, you’re not backing out, are you?”

“Will you stop asking me that? I shook hands with you . . . and Cora.”

“You sucker-punched me.”

“Well, what did you expect a sucker to do?”

Eddie Coyle spat blood.

I said, “So everything has been worked out?”

“Sammy and Rick and Cora and Jackie and me had it all worked out a month ago.”

“And Cora. She said this is her job. How did she manage to make this connection?”

“When she was dancing in Detroit, she met the right people. One of the associate ministers frequented that club whenever he was in town for a gospel event. He was also on the treasury committee. He had a thing for my . . . for Cora. He had a thing for her and he talked a lot. Told her about how much money there was for the taking.”

“Security? Megachurches have security better than the White House.”

“All worked out. He’s given us the info on all security, in uniform and in plainclothes. We have their pictures and we know where they are posted. Cora pulled it all together.”

Nothing was said for a moment. I closed my eyes and again I could see Sammy’s head being blown apart as Rick struggled to carry him across the parking lot at Wells Fargo. I played it over and over inside my head and asked myself what I could’ve done. Sammy was dead and Rick had done the same. Sammy and Rick were out there with us. I felt their presence. I saw their shadows.

We walked. The frigid air was numbing my feet. I had the wrong kind of shoes on for this ice.

I asked Eddie Coyle, “You’ve calculated the risk on this job?”

He nodded. “Six months of preparation. Six months of greasing palms.”

“But it all boils down to two minutes.”

Eddie Coyle nodded. “Then you get us out of there.”

A moment passed. My hand ached from hitting Eddie Coyle in his hard head.

Eddie Coyle said, “What happened with Rick and Sammy?”

“I already told you.”

“Did somebody get stupid? Did somebody get nervous?”

“The men who can answer that are both dead.”

“No way you could’ve saved them?”

“Eddie Coyle.”

“What?”

I took a breath. “We should send their wives part of this take.”

“You can send part of yours. I have my own bills and nothing to feel bad about.”

My hands were as numb as my feet. I licked my lips and they felt frozen.

As we made it to the door of the apartment, we heard screaming and shouting.

Cora and Jackie were in an argument.

We stepped back inside the apartment and they moved away from each other. Walked away and fell silent as if nothing had happened. Eddie Coyle asked what the problem was. Cora remained silent, evaluating the awkward moment, and I think I saw some fear abate, fear that she had been made a widow during that short window of time. Jackie said that nothing was wrong, nothing that she couldn’t handle, then she sipped on her vodka and came over to me. She put her hand up to my face and smiled. Her touch looked romantic, but I knew she was playing her cards and playing Cora at the same time.

Bishop walked in the door ten seconds later. “Are we ordering pizzas or what?”

I stepped to the dining room table and Eddie Coyle followed, pointed at the diagrams, and told me the plans they had made. I wasn’t interested in the details, but I had to listen. I only wanted to know what I was supposed to do to get us all home. I wanted to get back to Detroit and push reset on my life. Cora came over and stood next to me. She filled in the parts that Eddie didn’t reveal. She wanted to show she was in charge. Jackie came over and stood next to me, her arm touching mine. Bishop stayed in the background.

I pointed at an area circled in money green and said, “They have a vault inside the basement of the annex. What do you know about it?”

Cora pointed to the vault’s location. Our fingers touched.

Electricity was shared, then she pulled away.

She looked disturbed as she said, “It’s just like a bank vault. It’s a walk-in and it’s on a time lock. There aren’t any panic buttons. It can only be opened once a weekday, but three times on Sunday, after each service. Only three people are authorized to get inside Fort Knox.”

Cora’s sweet scent was too much for me to bear and I walked away, went into the bedroom. I looked out into the living area. Jackie picked up the book that had been written by Abbey Rose, held it so the photo on the back could be seen by all, then she followed me, moving her hips side to side and smiling like she was up to no good. I turned away. Jackie closed the bedroom door and I turned to face her. She tossed the book on the bed, then came up to me and put her hands on my chest. She wanted me to sex her right then, wanted me to take her with my wife standing in the next room.

Jackie said, “I figured it out.”

“What did you figure out?”

“The four thousand. You used it to pay Abbey Rose to keep her mouth shut.”

“You’re a smart woman. Wow, you’re so smart it’s scary.”

“I’ll kill Abbey Rose. I don’t care if you bribed her. She’s a threat to my freedom.”

“She’s innocent. Leave her out of this. Deal with me.”

“You know what?”

“What?”

“We should have sex right now. Let them hear. Let Cora hear me and you having fun.”

“Back off, Jackie.”

She laughed an impudent laugh, her stance distinctively smart and stylish, everything about her bold and vigorous and lively as she ran her mouth like a popinjay who thought she ruled my world.

I walked away, went back into the living room. Jackie followed me, holding her drink and smiling as she put Abbey Rose’s book down on the coffee table, picture up, left it there for everyone to see.

Jackie said, “Eddie Coyle, I think you should give the bedroom to me and Dmytryk.”

Jealousy emanated from Cora, jealousy and hatred.

Cora threw on her overcoat and announced that she was going for a long walk.

Eddie Coyle said, “You’re not allowed to leave this apartment, not alone. You know the rules.”

Cora vented her frustration. “I’m going alone. This has become too much. First you railroad me and bring in Dmytryk behind my back, knowing I wasn’t ready, and now Jackie shows what kind of
prostituta
she is. I can’t handle this crap right now. I need some fresh air, Eddie.”

Jackie said, “Tigress Woods having a bad day?”

“Call me that again and I will beat you back to your apartment in Denver, Colorado.”

“Tigress Woods, Tigress Woods, Tigress Woods. Bring it, Tigress Woods.”

“You better straighten her out, Eddie. Straighten her out before I drive a stake through her heart.”

Jackie laughed. “You can dish out adultery but you can’t take it. Who would’ve known?”

“Alfredo. Johnny. Sammy. Now Dmytryk. What is it with you and married men, Jackie?”

“What is it with women who marry good guys like Dmytryk and treat them like crap?”

“
What is it with you and married men?
”

“It’s me, baby. I do something to men; my smile, one kiss, and sanity flees holding hands with rationality. All they know is that they want me, and that becomes their singular obsession. But I’m too smart for any man. A smart woman knows that leasing is better than buying. I screwed your husband, so get over it.”

“Eddie, tell her to not talk to me anymore. If she wants to stay on this job she—”

“What’s the matter, Cora? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

“I hope your pathetic kid grows up and is just like you, you nasty . . . jacked-up skin, fat and ugly—how many men have you used just so you could get their come to smear all over your jacked-up skin?”

Jackie headed toward Cora. I grabbed Jackie’s arm and she tried to jerk away. Cora came toward Jackie but Eddie Coyle grabbed her left arm. She jerked away. Eddie Coyle stood up and his brother pulled him back down to his seat. He looked at his brother. His brother shook his head and rubbed his eyes like he was tempted to shoot everyone in the room. Cora changed her course, her expression saying that too much was at stake. She headed for the door, opened it, then shut it hard when she stormed out into the cold. Eddie Coyle looked at me. Cora was a wild horse that he couldn’t handle.

I said, “Get used to that, Eddie Coyle.”

Eddie Coyle looked at me and frowned. I smiled and released a short but vicious chortle.

I said, “Nothing personal, buddy. Just stating the facts.”

Before he could respond, I turned away like the woman I had married meant nothing to me.

I wasn’t the kind of a man who would chase a woman. I’d love a woman, but I would never make her stay where she didn’t want to be. Still, I was human. We had an eight-year history. I knew Cora better than Eddie Coyle ever would. Part of me wanted to follow her. That was the protective part of me that I could never seem to defeat.

Bishop turned on a radio and Mariah Carey let the world know all she wanted for Christmas. He went to the phone in the kitchen, called information, and asked for Domino’s Pizza.

I went back to the cluttered dining room table and studied the information they had accumulated. With Sammy’s poltergeist standing on one side of me as Rick’s specter stood on the other, I felt the Vicodin moving through my veins, slow and sensual, its scent on my every exhalation, a lover that was nose to nose, its side effects embracing and nurturing me as I reviewed the schematics and diagrams for the streets and pathways leading to the annex section of the megachurch. I took out the bottle and took another one of Abbey Rose’s feel-good pills. I was lightheaded again. I felt nothing for the atrocious crime they had planned for the last six months.

Money. This was about money. Money was the root of many marriages. Not love.

I had been living in the past. The days of my gallant father had come and gone. And women like my mother were all but extinct. I now accepted what I understood and I had to continue moving forward, ease toward what could be my demise. I swallowed bitterness and focused on what I needed.

Cora came back inside, looking like she was freezing. She and Jackie exchanged fiery glances, dares, but no words were spoken. Cora looked at me for a moment and I saw the memories in her eyes.

In the calmest, kindest voice I could manage I said, “
Nuestro matrimonio se acabó.
”

“
Lo sé y lo siento.
”

Eddie Coyle barked, “English. Talk in English. I’ve let that Mexican talk go on long enough.”

With a fresh glass of vodka in hand, Jackie smiled at me, grinned like Sammy had never existed. She glanced at the novel that she had left displayed on the coffee table, then regarded me and winked. She took a slow sashay toward the bedroom and paused at the door, stood there in the frame, posing, shifting her hips side to side, as if she were in heat, inviting me and aggravating Cora all at once.

Cora peeled off her coat and went straight to the bathroom with her head held down.

Abbey Rose would die because of a mistake I’d made in Los Angeles. The walls continued to close in, the concrete pressing against four sides of my head.

Cora exited the bathroom with pursed lips. Her Dominican eyes avoided my glare as she moved back toward the plans and the protection of Eddie Coyle.

I watched my estranged wife stand side by side with Eddie Coyle, and Jackie looked at me and smiled. I headed back to the bedroom. Jackie held her new favorite novel and followed.

She put the novel on the end table, then she closed the bedroom door.

Jackie said, “Cora has feelings for you.”

“Not the right kind.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s on the other side of that door and you’re in here.”

Jackie pulled her dress up, reached a hand underneath, and pulled away her thong, pulled it down and pulled one leg through, let it dangle from her left leg.

I shrugged. “Sometimes sex isn’t about sex. Sometimes it’s about something else.”

“I said that to you.”

Outside I heard the television. And I heard laughter.

I heard Cora’s laughter.

Jackie said, “Well?”

I unbuckled my pants, unbuckled my belt, and let my suit pants fall.