The Deadly Neighbors (The Zoe Hayes Mysteries) (34 page)

“Yo—quiet down.” Lettie’s voice was a low growl. “Bruno. Dahmer. Down.” The barking reluctantly waned, became yelping, and finally subsided as Lettie ordered them to be silent. “Settle down, you two. You did good, but it’s over.” She paused, maybe looking around. “Nobody else is out there, is there? Probably it’s a damned squirrel. I don’t see anything. Hush up, boys.”

The dogs whimpered and grew mum. Whew. In the quiet that followed, I drew a deep breath and warily stood, peeking over the fence across the yard. Lettie and the men stood together beside a tree, blocking my view of whatever they were riveted on. A dog barked, scampering away from the tree, probably learning to obey command words. Of course. Training dogs was what Lettie did. Maybe the ADA was buying a guard dog. It didn’t matter—I needed help. I reached for the latch and was about to call out to Lettie again, but just then Craig shifted his weight, moving a step away from the others, revealing what they were looking at. Standing at the gate I froze, my hand outstretched in the air, my mouth open, aborting its shout.

I blinked, absorbing what I saw. The dog sat at attention, staring at a rope that was hanging from a branch of the tree. And suspended from that rope, a small animal—a kitten? Or no, a rabbit. It was hard to tell from what was left of it.

Lettie called, “Now!” And the dog tore at the animal, snarling and ripping as Lettie, Jimmy, Craig and ADA Morrison watched. Lettie commanded, “Down,” and the dog cowered on the ground, salivating, until she gave another order. When she said, “Now,” it bounced up again and attacked, locking its teeth into the twitching, bleeding body dangling from a rope.

I
SANK TO MY
knees, recalling another body hanging from a rope. Whose was it? Where? But it didn’t matter, and I didn’t know. Right now, I had to get away from here. Rudo Bachek was dead in the hedges, and Lettie was training fighting dogs. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Lettie was involved in dogfights? And why was ADA Morrison there? Maybe he was investigating the dogfights, going undercover. No. That wasn’t it—the man had gambled on dogfights; I’d seen him there. Maybe he was also involved in training the dogs. Maybe he owned some.

My mind was reeling. I backed against the fence, trying to grasp what I was seeing. Who had killed Rudo? Maybe he’d followed my intruder to the hedges and the intruder had killed him there. Lettie and the others might not be involved; certainly, if they’d known there was a dead man in the bushes, they’d have moved him. My mind was whirling. Crawl back to the hedges, I told myself. Go back to your father’s house. Don’t let Lettie see you here.

But Lettie was telling Craig to take the dog inside. “Hose him off but don’t feed him yet. We want him hungry. Then clean up that mess.”

There was some growling and barking as Lettie called to Dahmer and Bruno, who were still trying to announce my presence. But Lettie wasn’t interested in what her dogs were trying to say; she was talking to Doug Morrison, walking him to the gate. I crouched, trapped, trying to hear over the whimpering of the dogs.

“He’s going to win big.” She sounded pleased. “If Craig doesn’t spoil him.”

“All your dogs are winners, Lettie.”

“You should have thought about that before you went and did business with those sons of bitches. They killed Hardy, Doug. And I’ll see all of them dead.”

“Come on, Lettie. You’re not afraid of that scraggly bunch, are you? Nobody can touch Town Watch.”

There was a pause before Lettie replied. I imagined her pulling on a cigarette. “Listen, Dougie. You know, with Hardy gone, I got to look at my friends. I value loyalty, and I appreciate how long you’ve been with me. You know me. You know that to me, friendship is everything. It’s for life. Nothing is more important. So, you and me, we’re cool. It’s a free country. You can go with those traitors if you want. No problem. Town Watch will survive. Do what you want.”

“Lettie, you mean that?” Doug sounded baffled. “Thank you. You’re right about our friendship, too. It means the world to me.”

“Oh, I know that.” She paused to inhale a cigarette. “And by the way, if you ever place a single dollar on even one event with even one of their dogs, you’ll have to forget about me covering you.”

What was she talking about? There was a pause. “Lettie, it was just one time.” Doug was whining. “Give me a break.”

“Sorry, pal. Can’t. No breaks. You know the rules.”

“You can break the rules. You’re the one who made them.”

They’d arrived at the opposite side of the fence from me, beside the gate. Not two feet away from me. I hunkered down, not daring to breathe.

“That’s exactly right. I made the rules. You knew that. Which is why you had no business supporting those amateurs—”

“Look, Lettie. I made a mistake. I gave them a chance. Sorry. I screwed up. But you need me. Face it. If not for me, you’d have been in jail years ago. Probably for the rest of your life.”

“Dougie, please. Don’t try to scare me. Don’t act tough. You just can’t do it. You come off sorry and pitiful.”

“Dammit, Lettie, you need me—”

“Oh, save it. We both know that the only way I go to jail is if you go with me. Not likely you’ll want to do that. You’ll have to come up with the money, love.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, Lettie. I’m your only legal protection. What I do for you is worth a fortune—much more than the paltry amount I’m in for.”

“You owe me what—seventy-three grand? No, it’s more now, isn’t it? Eighty-something?”

“What I do for you is worth a lot more than that. All I’m asking is some fair consideration for my services. I’m worth it—”

“Doug, listen. You’re very precious to me. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be standing here. Dahmer and Bruno would have had you for lunch. I mean that sincerely.”

“Now you’re threatening me?”

“You disappointed me deeply. You went to my competition, Doug.”

“Once—big deal. I’ll never bet with them again—”

“I believe you. After all, they won’t be around long. With the two main partners dead, they’re all but out of business—”

“Lettie, give me a break. I had no choice; I had to help them out. Stan was family. My brother-in-law’s cousin—”

Stan? Stan Addison? Wait. Dead Stan? Stan from Town Watch? Oh, God. What were they saying? That Stan had been running dogfights? I closed my eyes, sorting out what I was hearing. Doug went on, giving excuses for betting with Stan instead of Town Watch. So Town Watch was a front? A fake organization that sounded legitimate but covered up illegal gambling and dogfighting? And Lettie ran it. I pictured Stan, a middle-aged man wearing madras shorts and white socks, complaining that gangs were taking over the neighborhood. All that had been an act. He had been out on the street not to protect it, but to protect the gang’s interests, and then to keep an eye on Lettie’s gambling business so he could start up his own.

My back was beginning to ache from crouching, but I didn’t dare move, dreading what would happen if Lettie opened the gate and saw me hiding there. I prayed that they’d walk away. But they neither opened the gate nor walked away. They stood right where they were, talking.

“The way I see it, Doug, I’ve carried you for years. How many now? Four?”

“No. Less. Not even three—”

“Whatever. You’re mine. Stan knew that. So did Beatrice.” Beatrice? Dad’s Beatrice? Lord. The betting forms in her throat. Beatrice had been involved with the dogfights, along with Stan.

“This is America, Lettie. It’s capitalism. Stan and Beatrice were little guys. Besides, a little competition never hurt any—”

“Stuff it. Those two cheated me. They betrayed me. They pretended to be part of Town Watch the whole time they were running their own paltry operation. That’s why they went down. And I’ll tell you what, the sorry assholes who worked for them and killed Hardy are hamburger. This neighborhood’s spoken for. It’s mine. It’s my home base, and nobody gets an inch of it. In fact, I’m going to expand.”

“You’re what?” Doug’s voice was an octave too high. “I’m adding on. Business is booming—”

“Lettie, are you kidding? Not now. Don’t do anything to draw attention to the business right now—”

“Opportunity knocks, Doug. I’ve been ready to expand for years. The place next door’ll be available soon. That stubborn old fart. You know the one. Nothing—not Hardy and the dogs, not Gavin, not even what happened to Beatrice—could persuade him. But he’s finally moved out. Old goat’s in a nursing home. Lucky for him, too. He was about to have an accident.”

An accident? Lettie had been planning to kill my father? “Listen to me. You need to keep a low profile.”

“Forget it. I’ve got to buy that place while I have the chance. More kennel space, more runs and training yards—”

I finally understood. Lettie had played the caring, good-hearted neighbor only to get rid of Dad. She’d called me, feigning concern, only to make sure to get rid of him. She’d had a hand in Beatrice’s death. No wonder Dad had ranted about the gangs terrorizing his neighborhood. He was right. He’d stood up to Lettie and her helpers, and I’d unwittingly cooperated with her by moving him away. Oh, Lord. I was livid, wanted to leap across the fence and throttle her. Instead, I crouched in her side yard, alongside her fence, wishing that the pair of them would walk away, take a stroll toward her house. My muscles were stiff from huddling, but Doug and Lettie didn’t move. Doug continued pleading with her to forgive his debt, reasoning that if she was flush enough to buy her neighbor’s land, she must not really need his money.

But Lettie was unmoved. “I gave you a pass, Doug. You’re still in one piece because of what you do for me and the business. But make no mistake; you’re going to pay me what you owe. Plus interest.”

“Lettie, technically I don’t owe you this last twenty grand.”

“Oh, yes, you do. I’ve taken over Town Watch. I own Stan and Bea’s operation. Which means their dogs are mine; their events are mine; their bets are mine. You owe me every penny you lost to them. Plus what you owed me already.”

There was an audible sigh. “You know I don’t have it.”

“Too bad.” Lettie seemed unimpressed.

“I’m serious. I can’t come up with it.” He whined, pathetic.

“You’ll manage. I know you will.”

“Please, Lettie—”

“Oh, I almost forgot, Doug. How’s your little boy? Stevie, right? How old is he now, five?”

Doug didn’t answer.

“Doesn’t he have a puppy?”

“Lettie, don’t even go there.”

“It’s a golden Lab, isn’t it? That’s sweet. Every little boy should have a puppy dog.”

“My family isn’t involved—”

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if, one morning, little Stevie opened the door—”

“I swear, Lettie—”

“—and found his doggie on his porch. I should say, all over his porch, you know—”

“If you even go near—”

“Guts spilled all over the steps? That would be a shame.”

“You don’t want to do that, Lettie.” Doug was steaming. “I swear you don’t.”

“Of course I don’t.” Lettie’s voice was sweet, chilling. “But business is business. Rules are rules. I know you’ll find my money, Doug. I have complete faith in you. Now, come have some lemon cake. I baked it this morning.”

There was silence for a moment; then, as Lettie chatted about zest of fresh lemons and payment schedules, the voices began to recede. Finally, they were walking away. I exhaled, relieved, listening, estimating their distance from the gate. When I could barely hear their words, I began to crawl away from the fence, keeping my head down so that if they looked in my direction, they wouldn’t see me. As I moved, the dogs began barking again, slamming their bodies against the fence, but Lettie didn’t seem to notice. At least she didn’t return. I kept on, racing on hands and knees across the grass toward the hedges and Rudo Bachek’s body, not noticing Craig until I bumped into his boots.

S
LOWLY
I
TILTED MY
head up, noting that he’d taken off his training suit. He wore work boots, jeans. A scruffy flannel shirt. His chin was unshaven. Craig’s eyes laughed as he stooped beside me and, in no rush, lifted me to my feet. Neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say. Panicking, I looked around for help, but saw only trees and hedges. And Rudo Bachek’s body.

Rudo had been dragged out of the hedges. Oh, God. His face and throat were blood-soaked, torn wide open. By Lettie’s dogs? Is that why they’d been so excited? From just killing a man? Craig had pulled him onto Lettie’s property, ready to dispose of him.

Now Craig carried me back to Lettie’s house. Along the way it occurred to me to fight. I began to kick and squirm, but Craig didn’t seem to mind. He held me, my back against his torso, one massive arm encircling me and squashing my breasts, his free hand gripping my wrists so I couldn’t scratch or slap at him. Bodies entangled, we crossed the yard engaged in a wordless struggle until, without a word, he kicked in the yard door to Lettie’s basement and hefted me inside. Dogs were barking, and the air smelled of their breath, stale and musky. In the dim light I saw cages stacked around the perimeter. Hungry eyes glared out, teeth gleaming, flashing in a ferocious din. Dogs surrounded us. Pit bulls and Rottweilers. Mixed breeds. I couldn’t see very well. A half-dozen cages, more. Oh, God. Lettie’s fighting dogs. The kind she’d abused and starved to keep them aggressive. The kind that had killed Rudo.

I tried to break away and run, but Craig tightened his grip around my chest; I almost couldn’t breathe. Effortlessly he carried me to the far wall of the basement, pinning me on a table with his knee, and, without releasing his hold on me for an instant, somehow managed to bind my wrists. I twisted and resisted, but Craig squeezed my nostrils until I opened my mouth to breathe. When I did, he shoved a kerchief into my mouth, gagging me. When he was sure I was unable to move, he took out his cell phone and made a call. Within seconds Lettie appeared at the top of the stairs. She didn’t come down.

I gazed up at her, my eyes pleading. Surely she’d greet me, command him to take out the gag so I could explain and talk my way out of there. But Lettie looked down at us, frowning. “Damn it to hell, Craig. What next?”