Vengeance (23 page)

As I got in on the passenger side and shut the door I thought I heard an echo of the door rebound from across the river. But something about it wasn’t right. My eyes had taken in the glare of the interior light, so I had to peer through the windshield into the freshly opaque night. I saw a miniscule flash ahead of me and then heard the same sound. Too delayed to have been from my door. Too sharp. Muffled, but still piercing the darkness.

I began to tremble as I waited. A moment later, I saw Rook’s silhouette growing closer against the moonlit brush. He climbed in behind the steering wheel and left his door slightly ajar. My window and the windshield had started to fog over, and the crisp air cleared the glass, as well as my mind.

“We’re waiting for my men,” Rook said, as if to head off the questions he knew I wanted to ask.

I might have asked why they weren’t returning in the car they had come in, but I was learning which questions didn’t need asking. It should have been clear from the moment they drove the Brothers’ car out there that this was the way things would go.

“They never told me what I needed to know,” I said. I knew it was too late to plead for their lives, and I wasn’t sure I was protesting their deaths.

“They called your bluff,” Rook said. “You had to hurt someone or kill someone to get any further.”

“I had already made that choice!”

“Maybe you did when you were thinking about it, before you were standing there facing down the real consequences. But just now, they were forcing your hand. You weren’t really in charge of your decision.”

“It still wasn’t your decision to make!”

There were a dozen things I wanted to scream at him. My shakes had transformed into an electric surge of rage that was making the entire car shiver.

“Settle down,” he said. It wasn’t a threat. “They were never going to walk away from this. They knew that.”

“So there was never any chance they were going to tell me anything.”

“There was a chance,” he said. “And you took it. When it didn’t pay off, you didn’t need to be the one to do what needed done. That is our business. It doesn’t cost us a thing.”

Didn’t he understand the choices I had made over the past week? The things I had done in exchange for a
chance
to learn the truth? And now the Brothers were dead. “They were the only ones who could tell me what really happened that night!” I said. My voice was a choked whisper, “Now I’ll never know.”

I shuddered more violently as the weight of the words passed through me. Then my muscles fell limp, spent, as if acknowledging the futility of defiance.

“You know what happened to your brother,” Rook said.

I stared out the windshield and tried not to let myself surrender to tears. A figure was approaching on the river side, the cherry of a cigarette bobbing along in the dark. The Italian. Behind him, there was a spark and then a splash of flame. The blaze of the car backlit Moose as he turned in our direction. I cleared my throat and wiped at my eyes and nose. The Italian was leaning on the fender in front of me, finishing his smoke, waiting for his partner to catch up. They climbed in together, the car wobbling on its suspension as they did.  

Chapter 27

We pulled in behind Andy’s bar. The silver BMW was the only other car in the lot. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it didn’t seem late enough to be closing time. Maybe it had been a slow night. Or maybe everyone had cleared out knowing that Rook would want the place to himself. We all got out of the Buick simultaneously. Rook stayed behind as his men headed inside. He planted the keys between us on the roof.

“I’m free to go?” I asked, picking the keys up.

“Stay out of trouble,” he said. As I circled to the driver’s side, he added, “Come inside for a drink?”

“Not really a drinker.”

“Don’t have to be a drinker to need a drink tonight.”

I followed him down the gravel to the side door. We stood at the bar while the Italian and Moose took up residence at a table behind us. They had left a bottle of Jack uncapped. Rook poured two deep shots into rocks glasses then turned and poured for the other men. He raised his drink and said, “To Aiden Tanner. ‘To live in hearts we leave behind, is not to die.’”

I took the shot quickly and felt the burn eddy in my throat like rocket exhaust. Whether Rook had pronounced that toast a dozen times or he had summoned it especially for Aiden, my sentiments couldn’t have been better expressed. I mostly wanted people to cherish memories of my brother instead of dwelling on the details of his death. I would not let Aiden be remembered as a druggie. I would not let the darkest moment of his life overshadow his infectious smiles and dazzling eyes, his charm and ease.

The men talked at the table. Their given names were a mystery to me. Their subdued demeanor in light of the circumstances bespoke their professionalism. Calm. Dependable. Capable. Efficient. Even though they were hired killers, I felt a certain kinship of character and a bond from that night’s events. I was at total ease in that moment. Still, I was exhausted and hadn’t eaten since I couldn’t remember when. I may even have been in a light state of shock. Men had just died, after all, which was not something I was used to. It wasn’t the resolution I hoped for, even if I had thought I was ready to carry it to that same conclusion.

But it was over. I collected myself and declined a second drink when the Italian motioned to pour. I didn’t know the words to communicate what I wanted to say, so I took a page from their book and just nodded. They nodded back and I left down the dark hall.

*

I headed to my dad’s house. It wasn’t too far out of the way and I wasn’t going to be able to sleep yet. Might as well tell the old man how things turned out. Vickie answered my knocking.

“He’s at the bar,” she said, closing the door in my face.

“Which bar?” I asked. I only knew he wasn’t at Andy’s.

“Froggie’s,” she said as the door shut.

Froggie’s Tavern was a five minute drive away. The aroma of fresh pretzels and a rolling boil of conversation greeted me as I opened the door. The place wasn’t packed, but handfuls of patrons milled around their respective high-top tables in the middle stretch of the room. An oak bar lined the right wall while booths flanked the left. Shamrock green décor and brass accents. A waitress with bouncing brown curls smiled as she passed. Most of the seats in the place were taken. A far cry from Andy’s and not the scene I pictured as my dad’s regular hideout. But there he sat, on a stool at the end of the bar closest to the door, turned away from me. Casey was standing beyond my dad’s stool. They were huddled in conversation, drawing demarcation lines against the crowd of strangers with their body language.

“Ethan!” Casey called. When I came closer, he said, “I got the news. Hope you don’t mind that we started the celebration without you.”

“One more glass and another round!” my dad said to the bartender.

“I’m good,” I told him. I stood at the short arm of the bar, perpendicular to the two of them. The woman next to Casey lifted her empty stare my way. Paige. We were all there, the usual suspects.

“They don’t have champagne, so we got the best Scotch they carry,” Casey said.

“What’s there to celebrate?” I asked.

“Word going around is you put down The Brothers,” Casey said. I thought we should be careful talking about that sort of business, but being in a crowd provided anonymity. Maybe that’s why they chose Froggie’s. If anyone there overheard one of our comments, they wouldn’t know the context. Anyway, I suspected Casey and my dad knew I hadn’t killed anyone. At least, I hoped they did. Because that would explain why no one asked how I was handling having just executed two men. My god, what kind of people praise a killer? But what should I have expected from men like Casey and my dad? They were celebrating my coming of age, as if killing had made a man out of me. They gave no more thought to the death of those men than to the defeat of a rival baseball team.

“You did me proud tonight!” my dad beamed as he draped his arm over my shoulder. It was the first time in my life he had ever expressed pride in me. And it was for something I hadn’t done, something he may have known I hadn’t done but wanted to be able to tell people I had. Something not only illegal but reprehensible. Still, I wasn’t going to contradict the story in public and risk forfeiting the reputation Rook had bestowed. I didn’t suspect I’d ever need that bit of capital, but I understood its worth. Equal numbers of people in that town would feel indebted to me for the Brothers’ demise or afraid of me for my ability to accomplish that feat. I was a giant-slayer, and both the villagers and the giants would hear about it.

“I think I’m just going to head out,” I said, stepping from under my dad’s arm.

“Come on, don’t be a wet blanket,” Casey said. “Bad guys are all taken care of.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

“Those fuckers got what they deserved!” my dad said.

How anyone could be so cheery about it baffled me. Paige was the only one who wasn’t exuberant. She was downcast, staring into her drink with her chin propped on one hand. The other hand rotated the rim of the glass like tuning a dial degree by degree.

“What about Sterling?” I asked. “I don’t get the impression he’s being dropped in the river.”

“Shit! Nobody gets dropped in the river!” my dad said. At least he seemed more amused than annoyed by my ignorance for once.

“They don’t trust Sterling working under them here anymore,” Casey said. “They’re sending him to Baltimore.”

“He’s getting a transfer?” Organized crime was more corporate than I could have imagined. That’s how they dealt with problems? Sending them to other offices? Baltimore was a bigger city, which could mean more business, money, and power for a guy like Sterling. “Sounds more like a reward to me,” I said.

“They’re not gonna bury an earner,” my dad said into his drink.

“It wouldn’t be smart business,” Casey said. “He’ll have to work his way back up, though. They’re making him sign over all his property and interests. He’s starting from scratch.”

A criminal had to give up his ill-gotten fortune to other criminals? It might have just been an excuse for greedy mobsters to seize a million dollars of assets. It had nothing to do with Aiden. I had a hard time feeling satisfied by that sort of justice.

“And guess who’s stepping into Sterling’s shoes?” my dad said. He turned toward Casey, who peered at me over the rim of his glass. His black diamond eyes, sparkling with hubris, brought the last hazy element into focus.

“You son of a bitch!” I said. Casey put down his glass. His audacious stare now complemented by a smug grin. “You were playing me the whole time.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Casey said. “I was helping you.”

“You were helping yourself! You wanted to bring down Sterling so you could take over his game.”

“Sterling was breaking the rules,” Casey said.

“Honor!” my dad chimed in. “Respect. You have to know your place. You have to follow the rules!”

I wasn’t sure if he understood Casey’s complicity.

“Sterling was using blacklisted muscle. That should have bought him a one-way ticket. But ordering hits he had no authority to call? That guaranteed it,” Casey said.

“And you had to wait for Aiden to get killed in the crossfire?” I roared. People were glancing our way, tightening their standing circles to stay clear of a potential fight. The bartender fixed an eye on us. Paige half-heartedly assured him we were fine.

“I was just figuring it out myself when Aiden died. Then you showed up and got involved, anyway. They weren’t going to listen to me. They’d think I was angling for Sterling’s business.”

“You were!”

“In the end! Yes! In the end, someone was going to take it over, and why the fuck not me?” Casey said. He strained his voice to underscore his point without yelling. “Fuck! I didn’t know what was going on until it was too late! I never would have let them hurt Aiden!”

“Yet, somehow, you’re the only one to gain anything from it all, aren’t you?”

“I guided you where you needed to look, all right? But all of that shit had already gone down.”

“Because you were waiting for Sterling to fuck up big enough that you could capitalize on it!” I said. But I spoke too loudly, because the bartender had heard enough.

“All right. Finish your discussion outside,” he said. Paige tried to convince him we were fine, but he waved her off. “Your drinks will wait.”

I barged out the door and took a few steps toward the parking lot before turning to face my dad and Casey.

“Come on,” my dad said. “Let’s forget all this and go back inside. Have a drink with your old man.”

“I don’t feel like a goddam drink!” I said. I had suppressed a lot of emotions, including a lot of rage, over the past week, and I was doing my best to let go of it. But staring back at Casey and wondering how much of the whole mess he had orchestrated made it worse. I wanted nothing more than to throw a haymaker and feel the side of his face collapse against my knuckles.

“Let’s all have a drink!” my dad repeated. “This is supposed to be a celebration. Aiden can finally rest now.”

I had never seen him so accommodating. As I remembered him, he was the kind whose first few drinks disguised him in an aura of good-naturedness, but whose fifth or sixth drink sent him into a spiral of belligerence he would pursue headlong until he was off the map. But this was something different. Was he playing peacemaker to preserve his moment? As he saw it, I had just taken revenge on the thugs who killed Aiden. I had stepped into the role he coveted for his sons, scratching his decades-long itch. I couldn’t believe he had consciously been involved in plotting those events, but it was as if they were scripted for his benefit.

I had never wanted to be my father – never wanted to live the life he pined for. And, for him, I never would have. For Aiden, though, I was willing to break any law and drink any sin. Because Aiden had never pressured me to do any of it. I did what I did out of love, not obligation. I knew my actions were entirely for Aiden, so why did it bother me that my father laid claim to them? Did it matter that if he had asked me to do any of those things that I would have rebelled against him and found another way?

“Too good to drink with your old man?” my dad prodded. I didn’t know whether I had actually hurt his feelings or if he was just falling back on his manipulative ways.

“Don’t even start that shit,” I said.

“Hey, don’t disrespect your dad,” Casey said. He didn’t care about my dad’s honor. He just knew how to take sides to gain allies.

“He’s always been like this. Too good for his own family,” my dad said to Casey. His eyes bored into me as he continued. “Like your shit don’t stink!”

“Why do you have to make everything about yourself?” I said. It was Casey I had become incensed at. My father seemed to feed on animosity and was determined to get his fill. Or was he stepping in to deflect my anger from Casey? Lord knows the two seemed closer than I had ever been with my own dad.

“Oh, Jesus! You sound like your mother!”

“You don’t get to bring her up,” I said. “If she really took off, like you say, it was to get away from your violence.”

“I never hit your mother, you little fuck!” he yelled. Casey stepped forward as if to referee, but my dad shoved him back with one arm. Casey knew to stay out of it after that. “And you boys I only hit when you needed it. So don’t go crying to me about how mean I was to you.”

“I’m talking about your violence toward yourself. The drinking. But, mostly, watching you hate yourself so much you couldn’t live your own life anymore. You had to pin all your hopes on Aiden and push him to become what you failed at—”

“I didn’t fail! You little shit! If you knew—” he said, but cut himself off.

“So tell me!” I cried.

My arms were at my sides, my open hands lifted out to invite whatever revelation he had bottled inside. His jaw ground back and forth but his lips stayed shut. He looked at the ground, the traffic. But not into my eyes.

“Fine,” I said. “You and Rook keep your fucking secrets. I’m done with all of this. I’ve got my own life to live.”

“Yeah, you’re really something with your college degrees. Still don’t know shit.”

“Jesus! You can’t let it go. There’s worse disappointments than your son having a respectable career, you know.”