Small crimes

Chapter 20

I couldn't have been out for more than a couple of minutes. At least, I don't think so. When I came to I was in the back seat. Duane was next to me, a hard smirk on his face as he stuck a nine-millimeter automatic into my side. Jamie was up front driving.

'Look who just woke up,' Duane said, his voice just above a whisper.

'Have a nice nap?' Jamie asked, chuckling to himself.

Duane shoved the gun harder into my side. 'It's not polite to ignore a civil question,' he said, his smirk tightening on his face.

Softly, because of the pain, I said, 'Yeah, I had a nice peaceful nap. Thanks. How's your head?'

A lot better than your ribs,' Jamie said. 'By the way, we're not here for any collections, but you probably know that.'

'You want to guess what we're here for?' Duane said, his mouth inches from my ear. His breath smelled like raw sewage.

'Did you watch the news tonight?' I asked.

'It don't matter,' Duane said in a soft whisper. 'It's not going to change what's going to happen tonight.'

Jamie chuckled to himself over some private joke. Then he said, 'Mr. Vassey's waiting for you. He bought himself a new butcher's apron for the occasion.'

I closed my eyes and tried to think. I knew Junior's order was to bring me back alive, and I knew Duane would be slow pulling the trigger. The gun was mostly for show, he'd use it only if he had to. I had nothing to lose so I took my chance.

I doubled over and grabbed my side. I think you broke my ribs,' I moaned.

'Ain't that a shame,' Jamie said, chuckling harder. Duane joined in, his body convulsing lightly with amusement. I had my elbow drawn in as I was clutching my side. I whipped it around as hard as I could and caught Duane under his chin. His head snapped back and I pushed the gun away with my bandaged hand while I punched him with my good one. The problem was because of my ribs I couldn't get a hard enough blow in, otherwise I would've knocked him out and had his gun. Instead he was able to fight back.

'Goddam it!' Jamie swore. Tires squealed and the car swerved to a stop. From the corner of my eye I saw Jamie's gun swinging towards my head. I moved, but not fast enough to avoid it. It ended up being more of a glancing blow. It didn't knock me out, but it slowed me down enough for Duane to pull his gun away from me. He hit me hard across the side of my face with its barrel, opening a gash under my cheek. He was breathing hard, his eyes blind with rage as he brought his gun back up again. But the orders were to bring me back alive. Reluctantly he got himself under control.

'You okay, Duane?' Jamie asked.

'Yeah, I'm okay. This goddam piece of shit.' Then to me, 'I'll be with you all night tonight, watching. I promise you that.'

I only had that one shot. That was all. There was nothing else left in me. My abdominal muscles were spasming so bad I couldn't breathe. For a moment I thought I was going to suffocate because of it. It seemed to take minutes before my muscles relaxed enough so I could gasp in air again. Then I fell back into my seat and closed my eyes. There was nothing else I could do. As I sat there I could feel blood dripping down the side of my face. Duane leaned over, his sour breath almost making me gag. During the rest of the trip he whispered in my ear, telling me in great detail everything they were going to do to me.

When the car stopped, I opened my eyes and saw we were at the side entrance to Junior's house. He must've been waiting for us because he barreled out of the side door and came at us at a jog.

'Hey, Joe, glad you could make it!' he yelled.

Duane pulled me out of the back seat, and before I knew it Jamie was on the other side of me. The two of them were dragging me towards the house, and I just hobbled along, unable to do anything about it.

Junior had caught up to us and was standing in front of me. 'You think you can pull that shit on me and get away with it?' he asked, breathing hard from his jog. An ugly grin broke across his face. 'Whatsa matta, nothing to say anymore?'

He brought his fist back and punched me in the stomach. It doubled me over. At that split second I both heard a rifle shot and saw half of Jamie's bandaged head fly away. He toppled over like timber that had been cut. Junior stared at him wide eyed and then dove to the ground. I fell over and twisted myself around so I could look behind me. In the moonlight I could see a rifle barrel coming out of the bushes about forty yards away. Duane had his nine-millimeter out and was firing towards it. An orange flame shot out of the rifle barrel, cutting Duane just about in half, but he kept firing as he fell. He must've hit something because a dull moan escaped from the bushes and the rifle fell.

Junior was lying just a few feet from me, his ugly face frozen in fear. I scrambled on top of him and started punching him flush in the face with my good hand. If I hadn't been weakened by my ribs I would've killed him. Instead I only knocked him out. I gave him a few more shots and then crawled off him.

It took me a while to get to my feet. Both Duane and Jamie were about as dead as you could be. I hobbled over to the bushes and got down on my hands and knees to see who it was. I was surprised to find Scott Ferguson lying there. He had taken a bullet to the chest. He was still alive, but just barely.

I asked him who he was trying to kill, me or Junior.

His breathing was labored, coming out in short violent gasps. His index finger signaled for me to come closer. It took some effort because of my ribs, but I leaned forward and put my ear against his mouth.

'Fuck you,' he said.

I think he died then. I looked around and saw a shell casing on the ground. I picked it up and saw that it was a seven-millimeter.

He must've been there for Junior. Maybe when he saw me he decided to kill both of us. Maybe he decided Junior and I were in on Billy's death together. It was probably something like that, but the only thing I knew for sure was if I hadn't doubled over my head would been blown apart instead of Jamie's.

I wiped off the shell casing with my shirt and dropped it back on the ground.

Nobody had bothered coming out of Junior's house. Most likely he had sent his wife and kids away for the night. His nearest neighbor was at least a quarter-mile away, but there was a good chance somebody heard the gunshots and called the police. I wanted to get out of there before they showed up.

I started towards Jamie's car, moving as fast as I could, which wasn't very fast. I was still twenty yards away when I saw the lights flashing. I stood frozen, watching as a sheriff s car pulled up to me. Hal Wheely got out of it. His eyes narrowed as he looked around him.

'Get down on your knees and put your hands on your head,' he ordered.

'Hal, I can explain this.'

He had his gun out, pointing it at me. 'I'm not telling you again,' he said.

I did as he told me. He pulled my arms behind me and slapped cuffs on my wrists. Then he yanked me to my feet.

I hobbled along as he dragged me to his car. When I tried stopping at the rear door, he shook his head. I didn't catch on until he opened his trunk.

'You're kidding,' I said.

But I knew he wasn't, and I knew I had no other choice, so I got in.