The Hitman: Dirty Rotters (21 page)

“
This is it,” I said. “Are
you ready?”

Palo’s slender left hand reached over
and took my right hand into hers. “Thank you, Hitman. I feel safe
with you.”

I said nothing. Neither of us did. We
stared at each other for a long moment. She squeezed my hand
tighter and shifted her body around, leaning closer towards
me.

Then I saw the look.

I had only seen it once before, when
Pamela had kissed me for the first time. Palo shared her look. I
felt my heart explode. It was the look in her eyes, her lips
separating in preparation.

I froze.

A deer in the headlights.

Palo wasn’t.

I swallowed hard. I looked down from
her deep blue eyes to her soft pink lips. Her right hand reached
around to my left shoulder, embracing me firm. She moved in closer,
drawing me to her like a magnet. I was helpless to fight
it.

My face turned hot. I felt beads of
sweat shoot down my back. My breathing turned quick and uneven. My
thoughts raced in panic. I wasn’t ready. Palo was gorgeous, but the
only other woman I had ever kissed was my Pamela. I just wasn’t
ready.

Pamela
.

Then it all hit me like a ton of
bricks. Like a lead ball tied to my chest as I sank underwater.
Pamela. I wanted her in the car with me. I wanted to breathe in her
scent deep. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair and down
her neck. I wanted Pamela. I wanted my best friend back. Right then
the pain came back and suffocated me.

I turned my head just as Palo came in
contact and she kissed my cheek. It was innocent. It wasn’t her
intention. I brushed the tears off my cheek, but I couldn’t stop
them from watering.

“
I can’t, Palo. I’m
sorry.”

Palo pulled away. She saw it in my
eyes. “I am sorry.” She gave me a moment to gather myself, which I
did quickly, shaking it off, pretending that I was fine. “She was a
lucky woman, Hitman.”

“
She was more than
that.”

“
I hope someday you will
heal.”

I took a deep breath and remembered
why I was there. Why it all began.

“
Let’s go.” I opened the
door feeling my face turn hot with anger.

I stood outside and shut the door,
hearing Palo’s door shut a second afterwards. The air was crisp
with a late spring chill. The morning hours were still alive with
the sounds unwilling to find rest. Two young women in bright pink
sweatshirts and flannel pajama bottoms walked past us. Blocks away
someone yelled in celebration. Cop sirens were fading in the
distance. Crickets chirped from the shadows. House parties were
alive with music blasting and people singing.

I walked around to the sidewalk to
join Palo. I took her hand into my own. She gave me a surprised
look. I gave her hand a firm squeeze, just as she had done to mine
moments ago. We walked the sidewalk, passing underneath the
candy-cane shaped street lights, which pregnated the streets for as
far as I could see. Then I noticed we were not alone on the
sidewalk.

A man in a hooded sweatshirt like mine
knelt down beside a woman a few yards ahead of us. The man looked
up as we approached. He gave us a smile and a nod as he held his
arm around the woman, who appeared to have either been puking her
guts out, or was about to.

“
One too many,” the guy
said. He gave an unconvincing smile as we walked past. I gave him a
sympathetic smile as if I understood. I heard him whisper to his
wife or girlfriend. I assumed he wasn’t pleased with her. He
sounded annoyed. Embarrassed maybe. Maybe it was an all too
familiar scene. Maybe he was just tired and wanted to get home to
bed. I sympathized.

“
This is it,” I said a few
moments later, standing before our location.

Leading to the house was a cement
path, directly to the large front porch. I squeezed Palo’s hand and
kept her close as we continued. The old house had been painted a
dark green color a few decades ago and was in need of a fresh coat.
The structure was in no means deteriorated. Nothing in the
neighborhood was. We went up the steps and onto the porch. It
slanted towards the yard with narrow boards and a faded grey paint
job. Nothing I would prefer.

Palo produced a key as we reached the
door. There was a screen door first, which wasn’t locked. By the
looks of it, it wasn’t even able to close. I held it back while
Palo slid the key into the keyhole. The door was old like
everything else. But not old enough to not latch properly. Not when
the door had been compromised.

Which it had.

I saw it before Palo had tried to turn
the key. There was busted and splintered wood on the doorframe
around the handle. Bright strands against the dark green. I held
Palo’s arm in place. Then she saw it too. She backed up behind me.
Her eyes were wide. I grabbed the door handle and before I could
turn it, the door opened inward.

“
Anna?” I said
firm.

Nothing.

“
Hitman?” Palo pressed
close against me.

I pressed my index finger
against my lips—the universal sign for
quiet
. I removed the nine millimeter
from my sweatshirt pocket with my right hand and gently pressed the
door open with my left. I stepped inside carefully. It was quiet.
Eerie.

The house layout was simple. The front
door opened into the living room, then the dining room, then into
the kitchen. One straight shot. Simple. A bathroom was off to the
side. Classic set up. I’ve seen it a few times before with old city
homes. There would be a couple of bedrooms upstairs and an
unfinished basement below. Nothing fancy.

With light spilling out from the
bathroom we had a clear look of everything. Nothing was amiss or
damaged. No sign of a struggle. I called out again but nothing came
back.

“
Be careful,” I said to
Palo.

We checked the house out, room by
room. Anna wasn’t there. Aside from some take-out boxes in the
refrigerator, I would have guessed that the house had been deserted
for a while.

No one upstairs.

No one downstairs.

“
Did she kick it in
herself?” I said.

“
She had a key.”

“
Forced entry and no one
home.” I thought for a moment. “Should we wait?”

“
No. I have a bad
feeling.”

I agreed. I didn’t want to stick
around. Especially with Sally back home alone. I wanted to be there
for her too, but we had to be sure about Anna. We decided to sit in
the car for a half an hour and see if she returns.

We walked out onto the porch, back
into the chill of the early morning. Something was wrong. I knew
it. Palo knew it too.

“
I am worried,” Palo said.
She clutched my arm tightly.

I put the Glock back into my
sweatshirt’s hand warmer pouch.

As we walked from the porch to the
path I noticed someone watching on the lawn next door. A solitary
figure. I froze for a beat.

“
It’s not going to be a
habit, is it?” an old scratchy voice asked. I made out the scrawny
shape of an old woman in a faded white nightgown next door. I
believe she was scowling at us, but from twenty feet in the dark I
wasn’t sure.

“
What was that?” I asked
politely.

She was anything but
polite. And she
was
scowling.

“
In and out all night!
That’s what!” she growled. “One thing I can’t stand is all you
all-nighters! Blah! House sat empty for over a year and all of a
sudden you decide to party. I hate you young partiers!”

She had yelled the last part out to
the city, damning everyone around, probably with good reason. She
turned and began back towards her house. She kept her mumbling low
and to herself.

Palo tugged on my arm. I looked at
her. She gave me a look that I understood. I said to the old bag,
“Excuse me, mam?”

Grouchy, she turned back to me. “What
do you want?”

“
Did you happen to see
anything over here today?”

“
That some kind of joke?”
One frail arm pointed to her house. “I live right here for crying
out loud,
detective
!”

She was so little. So angry. I almost
laughed.

“
Can you tell us what you
saw or heard?” Palo said.

The old woman kept walking. She made
it up her porch and sat down on a rocking chair that was probably
constructed the day she was born. Creaking and grinding, its sounds
were anything but delightful. A nice pair, I thought.

“
Please.” Palo pleaded. We
walked across the lawn onto hers.

“
You’re
trespassing!”

“
Can you just tell us
whether you saw someone there or not?” I pressed.

“
Yep.”

“
And?”

“
And get off my
lawn!”

The amusement was gone. Maybe I was
just tired, but I really didn’t have the patience for the woman. I
stood in place until Palo took my hand and led me back a few
feet.

“
Keep going. I own right up
next to that shack of hers.”

We backed up further, all the way to
the cement path. We stood waiting. The air was cold. I saw my
breath. The old woman said nothing, just rocked and glared. I was
cold and tired and hungry. I wasn’t in the mood. I said with a
tone, “Okay, now will you talk to us?”

“
I’ll talk to the girl. I
don’t like you. I don’t trust you either. Never have. Never will.”
She spit.

I stood confused. The woman knew
nothing. She was just nuts.

Palo said, “She is my friend and I
need to find her. Please, I am afraid that something bad has
happened to her.”

“
That so?”

A few blocks away people yelled. Dogs
barked far in the distance. Old wood creaked and groaned a few feet
ahead of me. The woman remained silent for a moment, rocking
slowly.

“
Her life may be in
danger.” Palo added grimly.

The old woman appeared to be
considering something. Then she asked very quizzically, “You mean
the other girl? The tall one? Right?”

Palo nodded enthusiastically. “Yes.
Her name is Anna.”

“
Right. Anna.” The old
woman seemed humored. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me
about her, this Anna. You’ve been in there with her all night. You
should know more than I would.”

Palo looked at me. I gave her a raised
eyebrow. I kept quiet. It was a dead end. The old woman was
nuts.

Palo said, “What did you
see?”

“
Well, I saw you and her
enter the house this afternoon. I sat right here drinking my
morning coffee.”

More exchanged looks of disbelief. I
tipped my head towards the car, motioning to Palo that it was time
to go.

“
Did you see when she
left?”

“
What? You think I sit here
all night?” The old woman spat.

“
Palo, let’s go.” I
said.

“
Is there anything else?”
Palo urged desperately.

Now it was the old woman who sounded
confused. “You mean beside the jerk?”

“
What jerk?”

“
Him.”

“
What did he look like?”
Palo pressed.

“
Are you on drugs young
lady?” She leaned towards us. She was serious.

Palo and I were dumbfounded. We just
stood in silence for a moment.

The old woman said nothing. My
patients ran out. I growled, “Who are you talking
about?”

“
You. You idiot. And I’m
done talking to you.”

“
Me?”

The old woman nodded.

“
When did you see him?”
Palo asked.

“
Well let’s see…” she
stared to the floor. “Jeopardy had just started so… About an hour
ago the jerk showed up.”

“
Me? I wasn’t here an hour
ago. You need to start wearing your glasses.” I turned to Palo,
irritated. “Let’s go.”

“
Jerk! You looked right at
me, said you lost your key, then sent your foot into the door!
Don’t you even try to deny it!”

“
You’re nuts.” I grabbed
Palo’s arm and began to walk her away. Palo stopped me. Her face
turned pale.

“
She’s right.”

“
She’s senile!”

“
Think of how it would look
to her.” Palo looked right at me. “The woman she thought was me
could have been Ivana.”

“
What about me? I wasn’t
here an hour ago. I was with you.”

“
Not you. A man looking
like you. The man on the street. The one caring for his sick wife.
He wore a sweatshirt. From her porch, he would look just like
you.”

I felt the air leave my lungs. None
returned. I pictured him in my mind. We did look alike. I had
missed it before. I hadn’t thought anything of it.