Georgie, who was usually a little remote, kept putting the phone down to try to talk sense to the woman, who was becoming more and more shrill. Chase heard stuff hitting the floor. The lady was getting wild. Her daughter started to cry. Georgie spoke gently to the girl trying to make her 'fess up. Mom banged her fist on the desk or the wall or something.
Chase hung up and called the Deuce. Deuce jotted down the names but said very little. Chase asked
about Deuce's wife and felt his scalp prickle when Deucie let go with a small hiccup of a sob. He thought the wife must have died until Deuce let loose with a giggle and Chase realized the guy was a little drunk.
The Deuce said, “She had to go back into the hospital a couple days ago, but they finally fixed whatever was wrong. She's like an ox, that woman. Looks like one too. She rototilled the whole goddamn backyard, wants to start raising her own vegetables. To be healthy, right? We can't take vitamins, gotta eat asparagus and string beans. Can't buy them from the store, she's gotta go be Mrs. Farmer Brown, and you know what that makes me. She's just like her mother. At death's door for six minutes, then she's ready to run a marathon.”
“I'm glad she's doing better.”
“She's doing great, and I'm going to be puking asparagus for the next six months. Still it's a miracle. We're a blessed breed.”
Chase waited a five beat and said, “Who?”
“Us. Thieves. You know why?”
Another fiver. “Why, Deuce?”
“Because the last kind words spoken to Christ were by a thief, up there on their crosses.”
Chase thought, He's really been pouring it down.
“Any news about the Langans?”
“They buried Lenny, now everybody's in mourning. Their pie's already being divvied up. The other families are working deals left and right with the Koreans, the Russians, the Thais. You know they got
Thai gangs now? Who the fuck ever heard of such a thing? Anyway, last I heard, they're mostly packed up for their move to Chi, but they're keeping a couple of local places, bought a mansion out on Long Island. And they're fighting back here and there, got some good hitters. A lot of blood is running, but it's mostly contained.”
“Jackie still alive?”
“Why wouldn't he be?”
“His sister's going to cap him.”
“Yeah? Well, probably not the worst thing that can happen to the Langans or the world at large.”
“Just keep sharp.”
“Me?” He broke with a burping sob, chuckled low and a bit wildly. “Hell, I'm a razor.”
Deuce called back
the next afternoon. As Chase suspected, there was nothing on Hildy's crew. They were too low- class, off the map. Deuce told him that neither Dex nor Jonah had resurfaced yet. They were either working a score or they were on the run because of the fallout from the murder.
Chase said, “Jonah doesn't run.”
A half hour later Georgie phoned. He told Chase that he'd heard back from a few folks that somebody was making inquiries into Chase's and Jonah's whereabouts.
“Who is it?”
“I don't know yet. I can't track it back. Guys I know pass it on to me, but they get it from friends of
friends, pick up word in a bar, hear something when they're dragged in by the cops for a few hours, and it meanders back to people I have no idea about.”
Chase took a shot. “Feebs?”
“No, I don't think so. Seems to me this guy's in the life. Just runs with a different string. I've been trying to lock it down but these people, they don't act like they should. They don't do things the old way.”
“Nobody does.”
“Except us and the people who taught us.”
Chase asked, “Whatever happened with that lady and her daughter from yesterday?”
Talking about the dealership, they didn't need a code. Georgie could let it all out. “Goddamn nasty witch started to pull out the wires on my computer. The daughter was terrified of the bitch, and I can't blame her. I was scared too, almost called in Dunkirk from the garage, guy's six-foot-four, can bench press three- fifty. But I was worried she might hurt him and send him out on workman's comp. I finally just let her trade the Miata in. The daughter must've been letting her boyfriend plow her down at the beach. The undercarriage was dinged to shit and there was sand and salt trails covering the crankshaft. If that lady shows up again then I don't give a shit, I'm sending Dunkirk after her. With a sap. From behind.”
Hildy showed up
at Chase's door two days later. She came in, sat on his bed, and said, “Man, I've
never seen a flash entrance like yours before. I've seen a lot of different kinds, but nothing like that one. You just bulled your way right into our lives, toughing it out.” She looked in his face, saw the slight bruises around his eyes. “You don't seem too worse for wear either. Mackie usually does more damage.”
Chase didn't know what to say to that, so he let it pass.
Sunlight poured across her knees. ”Well, despite all the shit you started, Boze still likes you. It's your brazen attitude, he says. Slick, but gutsy, and you're good at cards. That works in your favor so far as he's concerned. He respects anybody who can steal a pot from him.”
Chase leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms. “One-on-one he would've crushed me. The others actually held him back during the game. He'd be better off without them.”
“They're foster brothers. All three of them were orphaned early and taken in by an elderly couple of Bible- beaters. They ran some kind of boys’ home, did charity work at a halfway house for ex- cons. That's where the three of them picked up a lot of grift sense. Well, Boze and Mackie did. Tons just does whatever they tell him to do.”
“He's not even good for muscle.”
“No, not much. He's stupid. But Boze is loyal to him. He's like that. He latches on to people. He thought it was funny how you picked up on the loaded jacket and started using his own planted aces
against him. He waited and watched but you still managed to pull them when he wasn't expecting it. You've got good hands, he says. Mackie and Tons wanted to break in here and kick the shit out of you, but Boze talked them out of it.”
“Mackie gave nearly as well as he got, and it was his fault that the other guy lost his pinkie anyway.”
“They don't see it that way,” Hildy said, shrugging, her breasts giving a little bounce, “and they're still pissed about the money, but it doesn't really matter. We've got a job, and we need a driver. You interested?”
“Sure.”
“Good.”
She lay back on the bed and went through a rapid variety of provocative poses. Lifting her knees so he could see the tanned muscular thighs, the powerful contours of her legs, dipping her toes out in the air as if it was a cool lake. She flapped the hem of her blouse so her midriff was exposed. Pierced belly button with two blue stones on show.
For a moment Hildy studied him, then shook her head. “Aren't you going to ask me?”
“Ask you what?”
“If I'm sleeping with Mackie. Or any of them.”
Chase said, “No.”
“There's something about you—”
“It's my lonely eyes.”
“They're not lonely. They're mean.”
“I was told they were lonely.”
“Whoever told you that was lying.”
Now she'd get to the real reason why she was here. To dig up whatever she could on him. He had no doubt that they'd already riffled his car, but unless they took it apart, they weren't going to find the cash and there was nothing else worthwhile in the Goat. The gym bag with his burglar tools and the extra ID and cash was hidden in the air vent. It was a good spot, hardly anybody ever checked there even though all you needed was to take out two screws. She'd try to seduce him and when he fell asleep or took a shower she'd go through the room. Until then, she'd keep him talking and try to get him to give something away.
“Why us?” she asked. “Why'd you home in on me?”
“I didn't. You homed in on me.”
“Only because you had a bull's- eye on your back.”
“Yeah, and you just happened to be the first one to give it a go.”
“What kind of talk is that, give it a go? That the real reason?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“So you haven't been in town long.”
Shit, she'd played him on that one. “Have you?” he asked.
“Born and raised.”
“So what are you doing on the grift? You could do a lot better for yourself. You've got the looks and the sharpness to keep out of the life. Shouldn't you be a beach bunny, sitting on the sand in a bikini, out dating surfer dudes?”
“Is that what you think I want?” she asked.
“I suppose the answer is no.”
“You almost sound sad.”
It did bother him a touch. She was just a kid, and running lowball scams was only going to get her picked up by the cops or run down by the bigger crews. The bruises on her arm looked painful. He did wonder if she was shacked with Mackie or one of the others, or all three. It worried him imagining her picking the wrong guy's pocket and getting beaten or raped or worse for it. She was smart and sexy and already on borrowed time. Looking at her he thought about Kylie. In sixteen years this would be Kylie if she stayed with Jonah. Living in shit motels, on the run, hip but uneducated, sophisticated but cultured only in the bent life. He thought, This is really why I'm here, to save Kylie from this.
“Do you have anything to drink around here?” Hildy asked.
“Sorry, no.”
It made her smile and twist her hair aside, showing off the throat again, the hint of freckles. “You're a different one, all right.”
“Because I don't drink?”
“Because you're after something and you won't let yourself be distracted from it, not by anything.”
He had a good poker face for the boys but not for the girls. He had to work on that. He cocked his head at her, started to ask something, but she shifted her legs again, showing off the dimpled knees.
“So tell me,” Hildy whispered. “Why are you here? What do you really want?”
It was a good ploy. A pretty young woman's whisper was a hell of an enticement. You didn't have to be weak to go with it, to shut your eyes and fall for it. You could be at your best and still slip up. She'd clipped her nails. He watched her fingers stroke her taut belly, more pink than tan, he thought. The piercing caught the light and flashed it back at him, the blue stones twinkling.
What else did he want?
Answers. To find out if Jonah really had killed Chase's mother. To figure out how the old man had been able to murder a four-year-old boy. Sloane had said,
You were his rudder, kid. When he lost you, he lost his way.
Maybe, in the end, all he wanted was to apologize to everyone Jonah had hurt since Chase had gone his own way.
“What's the score?” Chase asked.
“I'll let them explain it. They'll want you to take a dry run, to see if you're any good. You are good though, aren't you? Otherwise you wouldn't have called yourself a driver. It's what you do.”
“Mostly.”
He could feel the need to talk rising up in him. It had been a long time since he'd opened up, and he'd still never really talked about Lila and Earl Raymond and Angie and Jonah and what had happened in the Newark parking lot. Her voice was getting to him. The vibrancy, the constant assault of questions and apparently sincere interest. He looked down at his wedding band and wondered
how much longer he was going to be able to ride out his silence.
“Mostly,” he repeated.
“Along with cards and fighting and pickpocketing and breaking into cars and knowing about the check scam.” It seemed to impress her. “How long have you been at this? You don't seem to be much older than the others, but you've put your time in.”
“I started early.”
“Me too,” Hildy said, casually patting the bedspread.
She seemed to have run through her list of tricks, rejecting one after the other. She started to speak once or twice and thought better of it. He felt a little worried for her. Boze was going to be irked that she hadn't gotten much off him, but then again, Boze would like that Chase had held his own. It would earn him a bit of respect, the same as the card game had. It didn't really matter much. They would either get him to Dex soon or Chase would move on.
Stymied, she let out a soft sigh, and stood to leave.
Chase asked, “So did they ever reattach the chubby guy's finger?”
“No,” she said, “nobody had any ice. We took it to the hospital wrapped in tinfoil, but it was too late. Tons was mad until Boze told him chicks like guys with scars. Now he wiggles it at me all the time. Looks like a cocktail wiener with little black stitches in it. Makes me goddamn sick to my stomach.”
G
eorgie called and said, “I got a name for you. Kel
Clarke.”
Clarke had run with Earl and Ellie Raymond. He'd been one of the crew that had boosted the diamond wholesaler where Lila had been murdered.
“He's on my tail?” Chase said. “Why?”
“Why do you think? You took out most of his string.”
“I didn't want anybody but Earl. The others got in the way. I've got nothing against Clarke.”
“I guess he doesn't realize that.”
Chase thought of the carefully sliced- open crime-scene tape on the front door of the Dash household. Had Clarke somehow managed to track Jonah? He might've heard that Jonah and Chase were together when they met the rest of his crew in a Newark motel.
Clarke had already taken a portion of his cut and split for another job. Maybe Clarke knew where Jonah was.
“How did he get on to me?”
“I don't know. Maybe you'll get a chance to ask him before he double taps you in the head.”
“You're not worried about the feebs anymore?” Chase asked.
“Nah, you were right. I'm sick of sounding like a nitwit. I have the place swept every other day. If they bust me, I'll just pay them off. They're bigger thieves than we are.”
“If anybody else on the circuit asks, let them know where I'm staying down here.”
“You want this guy to know where you are?” Georgie asked.
“Yeah. I've got questions.”
“You think you'll get a chance to ask them?”