On The Grind

Chapter 49

When I came to, I was in a huge food warehouse located God knows where, maybe in one of the big storage complexes in the nearby City of Industry. It looked too big to be the storage room at the Vons market, so I'd been moved. I was looking at a pallet stacked high with large boxes labeled SAFEWAY KITCHEN-SIYLE GREEN BEANS.

My mind was, somehow, miraculously functioning. In fact, a strange sense of calm now dominated me.

I was tied to a metal chair with my hands cuffed behind me and I had a blinding headache. I tried to turn my head, but as soon as I did, my temple flashed a current of unbearable pain that threatened to take me out, so I took several long breaths, tried to refocus, waited, then slowly turned my head again. I found myself looking into the frying-pan-shaped face of Sergeant Bell. He was about two feet away, seated backward, his chin resting on huge, overdeveloped forearms that were crossed over the back of his metal chair. He examined me without expression.

"Hi," he finally said.

Some time passed. We looked at each other. "Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do," he said, softly.

I didn't answer.

He stood up and moved the chair out of the way, placing it carefully to the side. "How much did you tell Agent Love?"

I was having trouble keeping up. I needed to slow this down. I had sustained a concussion and it occurred to me that this false sense of clarity I was experiencing might just be a trauma-induced illusion.

"You need to know that right now, sitting where you are, you're a dead man," Bell said. "You're not going to walk away. I got my orders straight from Carlos Real, which means they came from the man himself. Short and sweet. 'Kill the bastard!' That's what he told me. But before that happens we need to know what we need to know."

"Agent Love hates me," I whispered weakly. "I didn't tell her shit."

"Yeah. Then how come I stopped her on the Pacific Street bridge an hour ago? She was busting into Haven Park all full a spit and mustard, looking for you."

I felt a wave of nausea and thought for a moment that I was going to throw up. I barely managed to hold it clown.

"You're working for her, Shane. I think you somehow managed to get a distress call out and she was hustling over here to back your play. She said she had orders to arrest you, but dumb bitch that she is she forgot to pick up a charge sheet or an arrest warrant. Captain Jones told her you were wanted in Fleetwood for attempted homicide. She only had two guys, Tal had six. She didn't get across the bridge. So all this tells me is you're the federal plant after all."

"You're wrong, but I probably can't change your mind."

"That's right, you can't." He smiled. "You need to pony up some info. Start by telling me what the feds know."

"There isn't anything to tell. You got this all wrong."

"Really?"

He motioned with his left hand. Horace Velario stepped out of the shadows behind him. He must have undergone some emergency first aid while I was knocked out. His split lip was stitched up and his head was bandaged, but his teeth were still a mess and they must have been killing him because when he talked, he kept his mouth closed to keep cold' air off exposed nerves. I didn't think there was much I could say that would change the outcome of this, so I tried to prepare myself for what was coming.

But Alonzo wasn't through. "That write-up on POLITE was bullshit," he told me. "You and the little wifey set that up, which means you're not bangin' the famous actress like everybody thought. Means you're still married, still got shit to worry about at home."

"Alexa threw me out."

"I gotta operate on more credible instincts." Alonzo smiled. "I need to know how deep and wide this mess is. If you convince me you're not holding back, I might take pity and leave wifey alone. But if you keep up this hard-guy routine, I'm gonna make a move. I'll fuck her up big, put her on the bitch bus and send her to a hole out in Visalia. It's up to you what happens."

"You kill her, the sixth floor will never stop hunting you. But do what you want, 'cause I could give less of a shit about her."

I was hoping he didn't hear the fear in my voice, couldn't read the distress in my eyes. The only way to save Alexa was to convince him I didn't care.

He motioned to Horace. "Your turn. But don't kill him yet. He's still got a job to do." Then Bell started to walk away.

"Al." He stopped and turned back to face me.

"Change of heart?"

"Whether I'm dead or alive, the cafeteria line is closed. You're all going to prison."

"All good things gotta end sometime," he said philosophically. "But I'm pretty sure nobody's going to prison. You're gonna be indicted and tried in absentia for crimes committed against the people and police department in Haven Park. We'll put out a warrant, but you're never gonna be found. You're gonna be moldering in your own hole somewhere."

Then he turned and left me with Horace Velario, who immediately pulled the sap out of his back pocket. He moved over to stand in front of me.

"We got us a couple a hours. You'll be conscious for all of it."

"I got stacks of money from the street hits I pulled up in L. A. It's all yours, Horace. How does a hundred thousand sound?"

He didn't answer. He hit me with the sap instead. I was out before the starburst in my head even happened.