The Barbed-Wire Kiss (20 page)

“What do you know?”

“Not much beyond what I told you. Cortez owed a friend of mine some money for some work he’d done. Three weeks went by and he hadn’t seen or heard from him. Nobody else had either.”

“How much money?”

“Not much.”

“How much?”

Harry drew a slow breath before going on. “Five hundred dollars.”

“What kind of work?”

“Engine work. On his car. He was as concerned about what happened to Cortez as he was about getting the money. They were friends.”

“So you offered to help out?”

“Yes. I stopped by Cortez’s apartment, but he wasn’t there and the car was gone. I had the license number and the description, so for the hell of it I thought I’d run up to the airport, look around. Like I said, it was a fluke.”

“You knew Cortez previous to this?”

“Barely. I may have run into him once or twice, but I don’t think I could pick him out in a crowd.”

“And this friend? What’s his name?”

“He has nothing to do with any of this, trust me on that. He’s got enough problems in his life already. I don’t want to get him mixed up in this if it can be avoided.”

“Might be it can’t.”

“He’s not involved. Take my word.”

“I guess I will. For now. But we’re taking jurisdiction on this case, you know that, don’t you?”

“I guessed.”

“And if we find out anything I don’t like, or that suggests there’s more to this than you’re telling me, then I’m going to have to come back at you.”

“I understand.”

“So if there’s anything you’re leaving out, or anything you know that might steer us in the right direction, now’s the time to tell me.”

“There’s nothing.”

“Okay, then, we’ll leave it at that, see where the road takes us.”

“You know how to reach me. If there’s anything I can do for you, I will.”

“That’s good to hear,” Wesniak said. “Because the feel I’m getting on this, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

Pratt’s was across from the boardwalk, the only open business on a four-block stretch of Ocean Avenue. Years ago, the city had turned over the waterfront rights to a single developer, and most of the existing businesses had relocated, anticipating the seizing of their property by eminent domain. But the developer had gone belly up a few months into the project, and now the rights were so tied up in litigation that no one could come in to finish the job. It had left this whole side of the city a ghost town.

He parked at the curb behind Bobby’s truck, slid the Club over the steering wheel and locked it in place. The other buildings on the block were shuttered, their walls covered with gang graffiti. There was broken glass in the gutters, and the wind blew trash along the wide street.

Across the intersection he could see the crumbling blue-green facade of the Palace Amusements building, the grinning ten-foot-high face on its north wall smiling out on empty streets and vacant lots. The arcade entrances were covered with plywood; broken neon tubing hung from the walls. He thought of the hours he had spent there as a kid, playing pinball, firing the real .22s in the shooting gallery, riding the bumper cars. It hurt to look at it now.

The door to Pratt’s was propped open with a cinder block. It was a low-ceilinged place with wide windows, a half dozen booths against one wall and a single pool table in the back. Three old men were drinking at the bar, nursing glasses of beer and looking out the dirty windows as if there were something out there only they could see. The bartender was in his sixties and his hands shook as he drew change from the cash register.

Bobby was alone in one of the booths, a bottle of Heineken, a box of Marlboros, and a half-filled ashtray in front of him.

Harry slid in across from him.

“Hey,” he said.

Bobby was unshaven, circles under his eyes. Half the Heineken label had been peeled away. Wet, rolled-up pieces of it were piled alongside the ashtray.

“Hey.” He tapped ash off his cigarette.

Harry nodded at the bottle. “How many of those have you had?”

“Not enough.”

Harry felt a flash of irritation, said nothing.

“Was it him?”

“They’re still checking dental records, but it looks like it, yeah.”

Bobby brought the bottle to his lips, then set it back down without drinking.

“A cousin of his was in the car too,” Harry said, watching for a reaction. “Hector Ramirez. It looks like they were both killed at the same time. Did you know him?”

“Met him once. Jimmy introduced us.”

“Was he one of the bikers Jimmy was selling to?”

“I don’t know that for certain.”

He started to raise the bottle again and Harry took it from his hand.

“What the fuck?” Bobby said.

Harry set down the bottle.

“Tell me what you do know for certain.”

“Back off.”

“Quit fucking around, Bobby. We’re in this deep now. I need to know that you’ve told me everything there is to tell.”

Bobby sat back, closed his eyes, and began to rub at a spot above his left eyebrow.

“Talk to me,” Harry said.

“Hell, it could be he was the one, I don’t know. And that’s the God’s honest. Like I said, Jimmy didn’t tell me any more than I needed to know—and I didn’t ask. He told me Hector was a biker, knew a lot of people, but that was it. There was no reason to bring his name up to you.”

“Mistake.”

“Maybe.”

“Could be Hector had friends who knew about the deal. Maybe he was selling to them. Maybe they decided they didn’t have to pay.”

“Doesn’t matter much now, though, does it?” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Did they find anything else?”

“Like drugs? Or a suitcase full of cash? No. Whoever took them off got the money or the package or both, depending on what side of the deal he caught them on. There were traces of powder in the car. My bet is Jimmy was selling to Hector, or to Hector’s friends. Someone knew about it, tracked them, was there when they made the transfer. Popped both and walked away with the money and the drugs.”

Bobby didn’t say anything. A salt breeze came through the open door, riffled a pile of cocktail napkins on the bar. He looked out the window at the empty street.

“My fault too,” he said finally. “I helped set it up, but it was Jimmy took the risk.”

“If you’d gone along, you’d be in that trunk too. They were adults, they knew what they were getting into. They knew better than you did. How are you making out with the rest of the money?”

“Janine’s sister and her husband agreed to give us ten. They’re wiring it tomorrow. I’m working on the rest.”

“Good. After we get it together I want you and Janine to think about going away for a little while.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know who killed Jimmy and his cousin. The state police don’t either. But they’re looking, and they’re asking questions. It would be safer for you not to be here, on both counts. Your name hasn’t come up yet, but it might. I’d like to get you clear at least until I settle this thing with Fallon.”

“I thought it was already settled. We pay him and that’s it.”

“I want to be careful. Where does Janine’s sister live?”

“North Carolina.”

“Can you go down there for a while?”

“Probably.”

“You have any time coming at work?”

“Enough.”

“Then do what you need to do to work things out. It’ll be best for everyone.”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“It took me thirty-nine years to fuck up like this. But when I did, I sure did it big time.”

“Help me out, Bobby. Call the sister. Take Janine and get away for a while.”

“Things will never be the same, will they?”

“What do you mean?”

Bobby lifted the bottle.

“Between you and me,” he said. “After what I did. This situation I created.”

“We’ve been over this before, slick.” He eased out of the booth. “Make that call.”

“Never the same.”

Harry tapped his knuckles lightly on the tabletop, started for the door, and went out into the brightness of the day.

At a quarter to ten that night, he was standing at an open phone booth, the ocean at his back. He fed coins into the slot, punched in the number. The line rang once, twice. He waited. On the fifth ring she answered.

“I need to see you,” he said.

A pause. “Where are you?”

“On the boardwalk, in Spring Lake. There’s a bandshell here. They have concerts sometimes. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, but …”

“Come get me.” He hung up before she could answer.

The boardwalk crowd had thinned, the families gone home. It was mostly couples now, hand in hand, joggers, an occasional teenager on a bicycle. He walked past the empty bandshell, put his elbows on the railing, and looked out at the ocean. To the north, the moon was partially hidden by clouds. The wind off the water smelled of wildness, of the sea and the night.

After a while he heard footsteps behind him, smelled her perfume, felt her shoulder against his.

“You must be out of your mind,” she said.

“Maybe I am.”

“Do you have any idea how risky this is, meeting here?”

“When’s he get back?”

“His flight’s due in at eleven. They’ll be back here by twelve or so.”

“That’s still two hours.”

“I need to be home. If the plane’s delayed or if there’s a problem, he’ll call. He’ll wonder if I’m not there.”

“You think he suspects?”

“He always suspects. But up to now, he never had a reason to.”

A jogger lumbered past them, sneakers clomping on the boardwalk. Harry watched him go. Farther down, a single figure stood at the railing, looking out at the water, smoking.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said.

“Are you?”

“Yes. There were things going on I couldn’t quite figure out. I guess I felt a little lost. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“And have you figured anything out since then?”

“No, but I know enough not to involve you in things that have nothing to do with you. I’m sorry about that. I wanted you to stay last night.”

“I wanted to.”

“This business with your husband, it ends this week. Then I’m done with it, it’s over. I’m going to go away for a while. I want you to come with me.”

She looked out at the ocean.

“I’ve got nothing here holding me,” he said. “No job, no family. I want you to leave with me and not come back. No matter what happens between us, never come back.”

“Just like that?”

“If you want to, yes. Just like that.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

She slipped her arm through his, held it tight.

“I need time,” she said. “To think.”

“You’ve got it. As much as you need.”

“I have to go. He might call.”

She released his arm, kissed the side of his face.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said. “I promise.”

He listened to her steps as she walked away. He looked back out at the ocean. The clouds had parted now, the moon lighting a silver path along the water.

He went back to the Mustang and drove north along the beach, past bandstands and boardwalks and amusement piers, one town fading into the next. He felt as if he were driving toward the moon, following its path in the sky. The night filled the car, bringing with it the smell of creosote from the piers, the tang of salt air. He wanted to drive forever, until there was nothing left but the road beneath him and the moon on the water.

Money and guns,” Bobby said. “they make the world go ’round.”

He unsnapped his denim jacket, took out a thick manila envelope, set it on Harry’s kitchen table.

“I don’t know about the guns,” Harry said, “but let’s have a look at the money.”

He picked up the envelope.

Bobby pulled out a chair, sat down.

“Rich and Jennifer came through,” he said. “They wired the ten this morning.”

Harry took out a single thick bundle of cash, bound with rubber bands. He thumbed through it, saw that the bills were mostly hundreds.

“I sold some equipment that I had in storage too. A pair of compressors, a depth finder. Four grand total. That’s in there too. Only three and a half left to raise.”

“I’ll loan it to you. I want to get this over with as soon as possible.”

“You afford that?”

“I’ll add it to your tab.”

“It might turn out to be a long-term tab by the time I get out from under.”

“I’ll live with it. Wait here a minute.”

Harry went upstairs, got the bank bag with the fifteen thousand from the nightstand drawer. He brought it back down, unzipped it, shook out the bills. He added the new bundle to the pile, counted through the whole thing.

“Janine’s going down to North Carolina for a while,” Bobby said. “I made the plane reservations. She leaves tomorrow night.”

“What about you?”

“After Fallon gets the money, I’ll fly down and meet her. I’m sticking around till then.”

“No need for that. Go with her.”

“Can’t do it, Har. I can’t just take off and leave you to clean up this mess. I told her I’d follow as soon as I could.”

“Go with her. I mean that. It’s best for everyone if you get out of here as soon as possible.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t fight me on this, Bobby. Janine’s going to need you. She know about Cortez?”

“I had to tell her.”

“And?”

“And she’s scared.”

“And how do you think she’ll feel down there, with you alone up here? Think about it.”

“I was thinking about you.”

“Don’t. It’ll be easier for me if you’re gone, believe me. If you’re up here, it’s one more thing I’ve got to worry about.”

“When you put it like that …”

“Go. Do you have your ticket yet?”

“Not yet. Janine has hers. But all it’ll take is a phone call.”

“How long were you planning on staying?”

“Depends. I’ve got two weeks off from work. That’s the most I can stretch it. If I come back at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately—even before all this—that it might be time to move on, get out of Jersey.”

“How’s Janine feel about it?”

“She’s for it. Especially with the baby coming. While we’re down there I’m going to look around a little, see what the economy’s like. Cost of living is cheaper, at least. It might be easier to start over.”