Callie’s Last Dance

41.

“THANK GOD FOR these two?” Callie says.

“They saved our asses,” I say. “Again.”

“You have got to tell me what happened back there,” she says.

We’re in her limo, heading to her hotel so we can, ahem, do the deed.

She adds, “When Sal said he was in on the heroin deal I thought we were dead in the water.”

“We would have been, but you saved us.”

“How?”

“Last night you failed to create a backup plan to escape Frankie’s closet.”

“So?”

“It made me re-think our backup plan for explaining why we killed Frankie.”

“Why?”

“My real reason for killing Frankie was to protect Sal. I thought he’d be furious at Sal for ordering a hit on his wife. So that was the main reason, and you tortured Frankie so we could have a backup reason. But something you said last night made me think Frankie already knew Angie was getting whacked.”

“Something I said?”

“You said it to Frankie.”

“Tell me.”

“After torturing Frankie a long time you said, ‘You know what really pisses me off? You haven’t even asked about Angie.’”

“Ah,” she says. “He didn’t ask about her because he assumed she was already dead. Because he knew I was there to kill her.”

“That’s what it sounded like to me. Plus the fact he lingered in the garage a while when she walked in the door.”

“So the real reason was no longer a valid one.”

“Right. So now the heroin deal became our reason for whacking him.”

“Which left us without a backup reason.”

“Exactly.”

She says, “So how did you make all this happen overnight?”

“The geeks worked all morning on it. That’s the reason I was late getting to Cincy.”

“I understand that. But the geeks couldn’t manufacture the tapes out of thin air.”

“No.”

She gives me an exasperated look. “So how did you manage to get the tapes?”

“I cashed in part of my life insurance,” I say.

“Donovan.”

“Huh?”

“This business about how you tell a little at a time to build up the suspense?”

“Yeah?”

“This shit needs to stop. You make me want to shove my hand down your throat to pull out the next word. Do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“From now on, when I ask you something, cough out the entire hairball at once.”

“I’ve been taping Sal for years. I’ve got hundreds of them.”

“How’s that possible? You heard him. He sweeps his office for bugs twice a week.”

I laugh. “Cheech comes in, runs a fancy wand around the rooms, tells Sal everything checks out.”

“Why would he lie?”

“He’s on my payroll.”

She smiles. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Wait till we get to your hotel room!”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s mighty big talk for an older guy. Is there something I should know?”

“Like what?”

“Are you hiding a monster in your jeans?”

“It’s not the size of the sword that counts,” I say. “It’s the fury of the attack.”