Ten Big Ones

Eleven

It was close to noon when I cruised into the Burg. Sallys bus was parked in front of my parents' house, and my father's car was missing from the driveway. Probably there was a big wedding discussion going on, and my father was hiding out at the Elks Lodge.

On first pass I didn't see any Slayers with boom boxes or automatic weapons. Of course, if someone was skinny enough he could be crouched behind Mrs Ciak's hydrangea bush. I thought better safe than sorry, and I did my Saturday night routine, driving halfway around the block to park. I had the sweatshirt on again with the hood up. I locked the Lincoln, and once again, I cut through the Krezwickis' yard.

I didn't want my mother to do another freak-out, so I took the sweatshirt off before I opened the back door.

Sally, Valerie with the baby, my mother, and Grandma Mazur were at the kitchen table.

'You're hiding from someone, aren't you?' my mother said to me.

'That's why you keep sneaking in the back.'

'She's hiding from them gang members who want to kill her,' Grandma said. 'Does anyone want that last piece of cake?'

That's ridiculous,' my mother said. 'We don't have gangs in Trenton.'

'Wake up and smell the coffee,' Grandma said. 'We got Bloods and Craps and Latin Queens. And that's just to name a few.'

'I was in a rush this morning, and I didn't have time to take a shower,' I said to my mother. 'Is it okay if I shower here?'

'Of course it's okay,' my mother said. 'Did you really break up with Joseph again?'

'I moved out of his house. I'm not sure how broken up we are.'

My mother went still, radar humming. 'If you're not living with Joseph, where are you living?'

This got everyone's attention.

'I'm staying in a friend's apartment,' I said.

'What friend?'

'I can't say. It's… a secret.'

'Omigod,' my mother said. 'You're having an affair with a married man.'

'I'm not!'

'Isn't that something,' Grandma said.

Sally snapped the band on his wrist.

'What was that for?' Grandma asked.

'I thought a really bad word,' Sally said.

'Yeesh. I'm not going to discuss this,' I told everyone. This is stupid.' And I flounced off to take a shower.

An hour later, I was showered and shampooed, and I was peering into my mother's refrigerator. I didn't have nearly so much blubber hanging over the waistband of my jeans today Amazing how the fat disappears when you stop eating. The downside was that I felt mean as a snake.

'What are you looking for?' my mother wanted to know. 'You've been standing there with the door open for ten minutes.'

'I'm looking for something that won't make me fat.'

'You're not fat,' my mother said. You shouldn't worry.'

'She's got to be careful of the Plum side of the family.' Grandma said. 'This is when it starts. Remember how Violet was always so thin? Then she hit her thirties and ballooned up. Now she has to buy two seats when she gets on an airplane.'

'I don't know what to eat!' I said, arms flapping. 'I've never had to worry about weight before. What the hell am I supposed to friggin' eat?'

'Depends what kind of diet you're doing,' Grandma said. 'Are you doing Weight Watchers, Atkins, South Beach, The Zone, The Slime Diet, The Sex Diet? I like the Slime Diet, myself. That's where you're only allowed to eat things that got slime… like oysters and slugs and raw bull's balls. I was going to try the Sex Diet, but I couldn't figure out some of the rules. Every time you get hungry you're supposed to have sex. Only thing is, they didn't say what kind of sex you're supposed to have. Like, whether you should have it alone or with someone else. And what about that oral sex stuff? I never did a lot of that personally. Your grandfather wasn't much for experimenting,' Grandma said to me.

My mother went to the cupboard, poured herself a tumbler of whiskey, and chugged it.

'So what kind of diet are you on?' Grandma asked me.

'I'm on the Tastykake diet,' I said, helping myself to a Butterscotch Krimpet.

'Good for you,' Grandma said. That's a good choice.'

'I'm going back to work,' I told everyone, putting my hood up, ducking out the back door.

Mrs Krezwicki was at her kitchen window when I scuttled through her yard. She leveled a gun at me, sighting with one eye. I pushed the hood back and waved, and she lowered the gun and reached for the wall phone. Calling my mother, no doubt.

I got into the Lincoln and drove to the office.

'I heard from Lula at the courthouse,' Connie said. 'Cantell's doing okay.'

'How about Ranger? Have you heard from Ranger?'

'Not a word.'

Rats. He wasn't supposed to be back for at least another week, but I didn't want to take any chances on being caught in his bed. Or even worse, in his shower!

Connie's eyes fixed on my hat. 'That looks like Ranger's hat.'

'He gave it to me.' It was a perfectly good fib. If he gave me his truck, why not his hat?

Connie looked like she bought it.

'I wish Ranger would get his butt back here,' Connie said. 'I'm not happy about you going after Rodriguez. What kind of a person would carry a thumb around with him?'

'A crazy person?'

'It's creepy. If you want, I can call Tank to go with you.'

'No!' Last time I went out with Tank he broke his leg. Then his substitute got a concussion. I was hell on Ranger's Merry Men. Bad enough I was squatting in his apartment, I didn't want to compound the damage by wiping out his workforce. And if I was being totally honest, I'd have to admit that time spent with Tank was uncomfortable. Tank was Ranger's right-hand man. He was the guy who watched Ranger's back. He was entirely trustworthy, but he rarely spoke, and he never shared his thoughts. I'd reached a sort of telepathic state with Ranger. I hadn't a clue what was in Tank's mind. Maybe nothing at all.

'I'm a lot more worried about Junkman than I am about Rodriguez,' I said to Connie.

'Have you seen Junkman?'

'No.'

'Do you know what he looks like?'

'No.'

'Do you know why you're on his list?'

'Does there have to be a reason?'

'There's usually a reason,' Connie said.

'I can identify Ward as the Red Devil, and I bounced Eugene Brown off my Buick.'

'That could be it,' Connie said. 'Or it could be something else.'

'Like what?'

Connie shrugged. 'I don't know gangs, but I know something about the mob. Usually when someone's targeted for takeout, it's about power… keeping it or getting it.'

'How does that relate to me?'

'If it's an entire gang that's out to get you, you move far away. If it's only one member, you can eliminate the problem by eliminating the member.'

'Are you suggesting I kill Junkman?'

'I'm suggesting you try to find out why Junkman has you on his list.'

'I'd have to penetrate the Slayers.'

'You'd have to catch one and make him talk to you,' Connie said.

Catch a Slayer. It sounded like a kid's game.

'You could hide out until Ranger gets back,' Connie said.

What she meant was, I could hide out until Ranger gets back and eliminates Junkman for me. Ranger was good at solving problems like that. And it was tempting to let him solve mine, but that's not the sort of thing you do to someone you like. That's not even the sort of thing you do to someone you hate. Not when the problem is solved by murder.

I'd already been there, and it didn't feel great. I was pretty sure Ranger had once killed a man to protect me. The man had been insane and determined to end my life. His death had been ruled a suicide, but in my heart, I knew Ranger had stepped in and done the job. And I knew there'd been an unspoken agreement between Ranger and Morelli. Don't ask, don't tell.

Morelli was a cop, sworn to uphold the law. Ranger had his own set of laws. There were things that fell in the gray zone between Morelli and Ranger. Things Ranger was willing to do if he felt it necessary. Things Morelli could never justify.

'I'll think about it,' I told Connie. 'Let me know if you hear from Ranger.'

I'd parked in the small lot behind the bonds office. I left through the back door, got into the Lincoln, and I called Morelli.

'What's happening with Anton?' I asked. 'Did he make bail?'

'It's set high. I don't think anybody's going to step forward for him.'

'Have you talked to him? Did he tell you anything interesting? Like about Junkman?'

'He's not talking,' Morelli said.

'Can't you make him?'

'I could, but I misplaced my rubber hose.'

'You said Junkman was a hired gun, right? That he was from LA.'

'We're not sure if that information is right anymore. The source hasn't turned out as reliable as we'd hoped. We know there's a guy out there who uses the tag Junkman. And we know he's working his way through a list. That's really all we're sure of.'

'And I'm on the list.'

'That's what we were told.'

'And that's what Anton confirmed. It would be helpful to know why I'm on the list.'

'Whatever the reason, it would help your cause if you'd quit your job and look like a non threatening housewife. Or maybe go away for a couple months. These guys have a short attention span.'

'Would you miss me if I went away?'

There was a long silence.

'Well?' I asked.

'I'm thinking.'

I called Lula next.

'Carol's up in about ten minutes,' Lula said. 'How are we supposed to get home?'

'I'm on my way. Parkings a pain. Call me when you're on the sidewalk in front of the building, and I'll swing by and pick you up.'

I reached the courthouse and drove around the block. My phone rang on the second pass.

'We're out,' Lula yelled. 'We got Carol with us, too. And we all need a bar!'

'How did she do?'

'Probation and counseling. It was her first offense, and she'd already paid for all the Fritos she ate. We had a lady judge who weighed about two hundred pounds and was real sympathetic.'

I turned the corner and saw them at the curb. Lula and Cindy were smiling. Carol looked shell-shocked. She was ghostly white, clutching a bag of Cheez Doodles to her chest, and she was visibly shaking.

They all piled into the backseat, with Carol sitting between Cindy and Lula.

'Carol doesn't know the court session is over,' Lula said, grinning. 'Carol's in a state. We gotta get Carol a big-ass margarita.'

I drove over to the Burg, and I parked in front of Marsillio's. It was a nice safe place to get a drink. If anybody messed with you at Marsillio's, Bobby V would kick their butt. Or even worse, he'd make sure they didn't get a table.

We guided Carol into Marsillio's, sat her at a table, and used the napkin to brush some of the doodle dust off her.

'Am I going to jail?' Carol asked.

'No,' Cindy said. 'You're not going to jail.'

'I was afraid I was going to jail. Who would take care of my kids?'

'I'd take care of your kids,' Cindy said. 'But you don't have to worry about it, because you're not going to jail.'

Alan, the owner, rushed over with a margarita for Carol.

'Am I going to jail?' she asked.

Three margaritas later, we poured Carol into the Lincoln, and I dumped her at Cindy's house.

'Boy,' Lula said. 'She was really hammered.'

With any luck she'd throw up a bag or two of Doodles. Don't get me wrong, I love Doodles, but they aren't exactly diet food when you snarf them by the truckload.

It was late afternoon, so I took Lula to the office. I parked in the rear lot, and we went in through the back door.

Connie was on her feet when she saw us. I've got a bunch of files,' she said. 'Everyone take a couple and put them away. I don't want another file mess.'

I took my stack of files and arranged them alphabetically. 'Joe tells me no one bonded out Anton Ward this time.'

'He's being held on a big bucks bond, and no one has the collateral to cover it. His brother called, but Vinnie wouldn't take the bond. The only way Ward's going to get out is with a signature bond, and no one's going to write a signature on Anton Ward.'

'What's the charge?'

'Armed robbery and accessory.'

'Ain't no justice in this world,' Lula said. That scrawny piece of garbage will plea-bargain and get off with a couple years.'

Connie filed the last of her folders. 'I don't think he'll plea-bargain.

I don't think he'll talk at all. If he gives up any Slayers, he's as good as dead.'

There was a burst of rapid-fire gunshots from the back of the building, and we all instinctively went to the floor. The shooting stopped, but we stayed down.

'Tell me I'm hallucinating,' Lula said. 'I don't want to believe this.'

After a couple minutes we got to our feet and tiptoed to the back door. We put our ears to the door and listened. Perfectly quiet. Connie cracked the door and peeked out. 'Okay,' she said. 'It makes sense now.'

Lula and I peeked out, too.

The Lincoln was totally spray painted with gang graffiti and riddled with bullet holes. The tires were shot out, and the windows were shattered.

'Huh,' Lula said. 'Guess you're going to need alternative transportation.'

What I needed was a new life. I felt myself gnawing on my lip again and immediately forced myself to stop.

'You're kind of white,' Connie said to me. 'Are you okay?'

'They found me. I was driving a new car, and I parked in the back, and they figured it out.'

'Probably watching the office,' Lula said.

'I'm trying real hard not to freak,' I told them.

'Play the role,' Lula said. 'That's what we do. We pick a role and we play it. What role you want to play?'

'I want to be smart, and I want to be brave.'

'Go for it,' Lula said.

Connie closed and locked the door. She went to the ammo storage area, rummaged through boxes, and came up with a Kevlar vest.

'Try this on for size,' she said to me.

I slipped it on, flattened the Velcro closures, and covered the vest with the hooded sweatshirt.

Lula and Connie stood back and looked at me. I was wearing

Ranger's black hat, black T-shirt, black sweatshirt.

'It's the damnedest thing,' Lula said. 'Now you just don't smell like Ranger, you're even starting to look like him.'

'Yeah,' Connie said. 'How come you still smell like Ranger?'

'It's this new shower gel I bought. It smells like Ranger.' Can I fib, or what?

'I'm gonna go buy a gallon,' Lula said. 'What's it called?'

'Bulgari.'

I was back to using Ranger's truck. I was parked two blocks from his building, waiting for the sun to set and the building to clear out.

Another couple minutes and I thought it would be safe for me to make a move. I'd been waiting for over two hours. That was okay.

It had given me time to think.

Connie was right. I needed to find out why I was on the list.

Eventually, Street Crimes or the Criminal Intelligence unit would get the information, but I was having a hard time finding the patience for 'eventually.'

I'd had a stupid, crazy idea while I was at the bonds office. It was so stupid and crazy I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.

Trouble was, the idea wouldn't go away. And I was beginning to think it wasn't so stupid and crazy.

What I needed was a snitch. I needed to find a Slayer who could be bribed into talking. I didn't have a lot of money to use as a bribe, so I figured I'd have to resort to violence. And then I needed to find this Slayer outside of Slayerland. No way was I getting caught within Slayer boundaries.

So how am I going to catch a lone Slayer out of his 'hood? Turns out there's one sitting in jail. Anton Ward. All I have to do is bond him out, and he's mine. Okay, so I don't have all the details worked out, but it has potential, right?

The sun was down, and the streets were empty. Time to take a look at the building, I decided. I locked the truck, I pulled the hood over Ranger's ball cap, and I walked the two blocks to the gate. Floors five and six were lit. And there was a single window showing light on the fourth floor. Only the night guard was left in the lobby. Now or never, I thought. I remoted myself through the gate, crossed the garage, and took the elevator without a hitch. I let myself into the apartment and relaxed.

The apartment was nice and empty. Just as I'd left it. I dropped the keys to the truck in the dish on the sideboard. I shrugged out of the sweatshirt and vest and went to the kitchen.

Rex was running on his wheel. I tapped on the side of the cage and said hello. Rex paused for a moment, whiskers twitching. He blinked once and went back to running.

I opened the refrigerator and looked inside. Then I looked down at my waistline. Still some fat oozing over the top of my jeans, but there was less fat than yesterday. I was moving in the right direction. I closed the refrigerator door and hustled out of the kitchen before the beer got to me.

I watched television for a while, and then I took a shower. I told myself I was taking a shower to relax, but the truth was, I wanted to smell the soap. Sometimes I was able to forget I was living in Ranger's space. Tonight wasn't one of those times. Tonight I was very aware that I was using his towels and sleeping in his bed. It was a kind of Russian roulette, I thought. Each night I walked into the apartment and spun the barrel. One of these nights Ranger would be here waiting for me, and I was going to take it between the eyes.

I toweled off and went to bed in panties and T-shirt. The sheets were cool and the room was dark. The panties and T-shirt felt skimpy in Ranger's bed. I would be much more comfortable if I was fully dressed. Socks, jeans, two or three shirts buttoned to the neck, tucked into the jeans. Maybe a jacket and hat.

It was the shower, I decided. The hot water and the delicious soap. And the towel. It had me all overheated. I could fix that… but I'd go blind. At least that was the threat when I was growing up in the Burg you abuse yourself and you'll go blind. It hadn't totally stopped me but it had me worried. I really didn't want to go blind. Besides, what if I was in the middle of something and Ranger walked in? Actually, that sounded pretty good.

No! It didn't sound good. What was I thinking? I was sort of attached to Joe. Maybe. So where the heck was he when I needed him? He was at home. Probably. I could go over there, I thought.

I could walk in and tell him I'd just taken a shower with this great soap that always makes me feel sexy. And then I'd explain to him how I got carried away with the towel…

Good grief. I switched the light on. I needed something to read, but there were no books, no magazines, no catalogues. I wrapped myself in Ranger's robe, curled up on the couch, and turned the television on.

I woke up to the Today show. I was still in Rangers robe. I was on the couch. And I was feeling cranky. It didn't help that Al Roker was on the television screen, talking to some woman from Iowa, and Al was looking happy as could be. Al always looked happy.

What's with that?

I said goodbye to Al and beamed the television off. I dragged myself into the bathroom but decided to forego the shower. I brushed my teeth and got dressed in the clothes on the floor.

I was desperate for coffee, but it was almost eight o'clock, and I needed to get out of the building. I clapped Ranger's hat on my head, stuffed myself into the vest and sweatshirt, and took the elevator to the garage. The elevator doors opened just as a car approached the gate. I flattened myself against the side and returned to the seventh floor. I waited in the seventh-floor foyer for ten minutes, and I tried it again. This time the garage was empty.

I left the garage, and I walked to the truck. The sky was overcast and a misting rain had started to fall. The buildings on either side of Comstock were redbrick and cement. No trees, no shrubs, no lawns to soften the landscape. It felt nicely urban when the sun was shining. Today it felt grim.

I drove to the office and parked the truck in full view on the street. Connie was already at work. Lula hadn't yet arrived. I saw no sign of Vinnie.

I went straight to the coffeepot and poured out a cup for myself.

'I haven't seen a lot of Vinnie lately,' I said to Connie. 'What's the deal?'

'He's got hemorrhoids. He comes in for an hour to bitch and complain, and then he goes home to sit on his rubber doughnut.'

Connie and I both smiled at this. Vinnie deserved hemorrhoids. Vinnie was a hemorrhoid.

I sipped my coffee. 'So you're the one writing bonds now?'

'I'm doing the low money bonds. Vinnie gets off his doughnut to do guys like Anton Ward.'

'I need a favor.'

'Uh oh,' Connie said. 'I got a bad feeling about this.'

'I want you to help me bond out Anton Ward. I need to talk to him.'

'No way. Un uh. Nope. No can do. Forget it.'

'This was your idea! You were the one who said I had to find out why I was on Junkman's list.'

'And you think Ward is going to tell you out of gratitude?'

'No. I was planning on beating it out of him.'

Connie considered that. 'Beating might work,' she said. 'Who's going to slap him around?'

'Me and Lula. You could do it, too, if you want.'

'So let me get this straight,' Connie said. 'We bond him out. Then we escort him from the jail to the trunk of Lula's Firebird and take him somewhere for further discussion.'

'Yeah. And then when we're done we can revoke his bond.'

'I like it,' Connie said. 'Did you think of this all by yourself?'

'Yep.'

'Think of what all by herself?' Lula said, swinging through the front door. 'Man, it's crappy out there. It's gonna rain cats and dogs all day.'

'Stephanie's got a plan to bond out Anton Ward and beat some information out of him,' Connie said.

Lula's mood changed to smiley face. 'No shit? Are you messin' with me? That's inspired. You aren't gonna leave me out, are you? I'm good at smackin' people around. And I'd just love to smack Anton Ward around.'

'You're in,' I said to Lula. 'We just have to figure some things out first. Like, where are we going to take him for his beating?'

'It has to be someplace isolated, so no one hears him screaming,' Lula said.

'And it has to be cheap,' I said. 'I haven't got any money.'

'I have just the place,' Connie said. "Vinnie has a house in Point Pleasant. It's right on the beach, and no one's going to be around now. The season's over.'

'That's a great plan,' Lula said. 'The arcade will still be open, and in between beatin' on Anton Ward I can play the claw machine.'

'Do you think we'll have to beat him a lot?' I asked Connie. A bunch of her relatives were mob, and I figured she knew about these things.

'I hope so,' Lula said. 'I hope he don't talk for days. I love Point Pleasant. And I haven't beat on anyone in a while. I'm looking forward to this beating.'

'I've never actually beat anyone,' I said.

'Don't you worry about it,' Lula said. 'You just stand back and leave it to me.'

'We have to do this right,' Connie said. "We don't want anyone to know we have Ward. We're going to have to make it look like he just disappeared.'

'I've already thought it through,' I said. 'You can call Ward's brother back and tell him we'll bond Ward out if he agrees to wear a personal tracking unit. We just got one in from iSECUREtrac, right?'

'We haven't used it yet,' Connie said. 'Haven't even taken it out of the box.'

'If Ward agrees to the PTU we say we have to have him released into our custody so we can install the unit. Then we tell everybody we have to install the transmitter here, at the office. We tell them after the unit is in place Anton is free to go.

'We cuff Anton on his release and bring him back to the office, but instead of strapping the transmitter on him, we dump him in Lula's trunk. All she has to do is back up to the rear door, and Anton's off to Point Pleasant. Then we pretend Anton escaped. We can say he used the lavatory at the office, and he went out through the window.'

'Brilliant,' Lula said. 'You're a criminal genius.'

'I like it,' Connie said. 'Let's do it.'

We all did a high five.

'It'll take me some time to set this up,' Connie said. 'I'll arrange it for the end of the business day. Then it won't be suspicious if we close the office down and disappear. In the meantime, you two should take a drive to Point Pleasant and make sure it's okay to use the house.' She took a key from a mess of keys she kept in her top drawer. This is the key to the house. He doesn't have a security system. It's just a little bungalow on the beach.' She wrote the address on a sticky note and gave it to me.

Lula and I didn't do a lot of talking on the way to Point Pleasant.

Hard to say why Lula fell into silence. Mine was brought on by a mixture of disbelief and terror. I couldn't believe we were going to do this. It was insane. And it was all my idea.

I was driving Ranger's truck, and Lula was reading the map. We'd reached the ocean, and we were looking for Vinnie's street.

The rain was steady and the little shore houses that seemed cute and colorful in July sunshine looked sad in the dismal gray gloom.

'You turn left onto the next street,' Lula said. 'And you go all the way to the end. It's the last house on the right. Connie says it's painted salmon and turquoise. I'm hoping she's wrong about the paint.'

This is like a ghost town,' I said. 'Not a single house has a light on.'

'Better for us,' Lula said. 'But it feels spooky, don't it? It's like we're in some horror movie. Nightmare in Point Pleasant.'

I got to the last house on the right and darned if it wasn't painted salmon with turquoise trim. It was a small two-story bungalow that faced the ocean. No garage, but there was a driveway separating Vinnie's house and an almost identical bungalow next to him. At this time of year a car parked in the driveway would be reasonably well hidden.

I pulled the truck into the driveway, and I cut the lights. Lula and I squinted through the rain to the bungalow's back door. Above the door was a hand-painted sign that said SEA BREEZE.

'Bet Vinnie had to think a long time to come up with that name,' Lula said.

I put my hood up, and Lula and I sprinted through the rain and huddled together on the small back stoop while I fumbled with the key. I finally got the door open, we both jumped inside, and I slammed the door shut behind us.

Lula shook her corn-rowed head, sending water flying. 'Could we possibly have picked a crappier day to do this?'

'Maybe we should wait a couple days until the weather is better.'

The heartfelt, cold-feet statement of the year.

'I don't want to be no alarmist or nothing, but you wait a couple days and you might not be around to beat on this guy.'