Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

Fourteen

The next night I pulled the car into the parking lot on Industrial, butterflies in my stomach. Jerry was right, the only light was coming from my headlights. I stopped and kept the motor running and the lights on. I trusted that Jerry was out in the field in the dark, watching.

I checked my watch. I was five minutes early. Were blackmailers prompt? Apparently not, because I sat there for fifteen minutes and still nobody showed. I decided to drive around the building once, just in case they were on the other side and we were missing each other. No such luck. My once-around revealed I was alone in the parking lot. Were they inside? With no car in the lot? Maybe they had keys, opened the loading door, drove the car in and then went inside to wait? And if so, how was I supposed to know that? My note said to meet in the parking lot. On the seat next to me was a brown envelope with fifty grand inside.

I drove back around and stopped in my original position. I waited another twenty minutes, and then I jumped when somebody knocked on the window of the passenger side. When I saw it was Jerry I reached over and unlocked the door.

“They’re not gonna show,” he said, getting in. He picked up the envelope without curiosity and tossed it into the backseat.

“Why not?”

He shrugged.

“Maybe they saw me.”

“Out there? How?”

He didn’t answer.

“Maybe they’re inside,” Jerry said.

I told him what I was thinking about the loading dock door.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s take a look.”

“Wait.”

“For what?”

“We’ve been here before,” I said. “What about the Dumpsters?”

“Oh yeah, that time we found that guy’s body … you’re thinkin’ about those rusted-out Dumpsters over there?”

“Maybe somebody’s hiding in one of them,” I said.

“Or maybe there’s a body,” Jerry said. “Maybe the blackmailer had a sucker meet him here before us and somebody ended up in the Dumpster?”

“Yeah, maybe.” I remembered Entratter warning me not to find any bodies this time. Also what he said about Jerry and I attracting trouble.

“Maybe we should just leave, Mr. G.,” Jerry suggested.

It sounded like a good idea, except …

“What do I tell Sammy, then?”

“Tell him nobody showed up, and that you have to wait to be contacted again.”

“Crap, crap, crap,” I bitched, banging the steering wheel.

“Okay, point your headlights over there and I’ll check the Dumpsters.”

I turned the wheels and pulled forward so that my lights were illuminating the two Dumpsters.

“Wait here,” he said, opening his door.

“No,” I said, “I’ll come with you.”

“Did you bring a flashlight?” he asked.

“No.”

He took one the size of a pen from his pocket and wiggled it at me, smiling.

We walked up to the Dumpsters and Jerry turned on his flashlight. We peered into one together, and then the other. Both were empty, except for beer cans, trash and puddles.

“There ya go,” Jerry said. “No bodies. What about inside?”

“Are you … heeled?”

“Always.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“Which door?”

“Let’s start with the front.”

We got back into the car and I maneuvered so that the front door was lit up. Jerry got out to try it, then got back in.

“Locked.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s try the back.”

I drove around and aimed the headlights at the back door, which was next to the loading dock door. I decided I wouldn’t have minded if this one was also locked.

I got out of the car with Jerry, first sticking the money in my pocket. He grabbed the doorknob, pulled, and the door opened.

“Uh-oh.” He looked at me. “We goin’ in?”

“With just that little penlight?” I asked. “Let me move the car so the light’s shining right inside.”

I got in, maneuvered the car while Jerry directed me, then got out. It was a regular-size doorway, but as the light shone in the shaft widened.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“I’ll go first,” Jerry said, and took out his.45. With the gun in one hand and the penlight in the other, he stepped inside.