The Millionaires

85

Joey’s got her finger on the trigger, and her eyes on me and Shep, but she’s clearly focused on whatever’s coming out of her earpiece. My arms are up above my head, but I can still see my watch. It’s already past seven. Lapidus is in his car, on his way to Connecticut. There’s no way she’ll be able to-

“Hello, Mr. Lapidus?” she says into the microphone. “This is Joey calling… right, the private investi – No, we haven’t found the money yet… No, I understand, sir, but I have a quick question I was hoping you could help me with. Do you know anyone named…” She looks down at Shep’s ID. “… Kenneth Kerr?”

There’s a long pause as Joey listens. The longer it goes, the more she watches Shep. He doesn’t flinch. He thinks she’s bluffing. So as long as he stays calm, she can’t prove him wrong.

“No… I understand,” Joey says. “Of course, sir. No, I just wanted to be sure.”

She unhooks the cell phone from her belt and pulls out the earpiece. She’s got her gun in her right hand and the phone in her left. Holding the receiver out for Shep, she adds, “Lapidus wants to speak to you…”

Shep glances at me, then back to Joey. Without the slightest of pauses, he steps forward, studying Joey’s reaction. Joey smiles playfully, studying his. I stand there motionless and realize these two are playing in a different league. I have no idea who’s got the advantage.

As Shep approaches her, Joey watches for the tell. A twitch in his eye… a shift in his shoulder… anything she can latch on to. But Shep’s too good to give it.

The closer Shep gets, the more he towers over her. I expect Joey to step back. She doesn’t. “Here you go,” she says, reaching out to hand him the phone. Her gun is cocked as he steps close to her.

“Thanks,” Shep says as he goes to take it. There’s no fear in his voice. He’s perfectly calm. They’re close enough to touch. Neither one backs off. I can see it on Joey’s face – he’s passed her test. But just as he reaches for the phone – as their palms brush against each other – Shep widens his grip, seizes the phone and Joey’s whole hand, and thrusts both their fists and the phone against Joey’s face. It’s all so fast, I barely realize what’s happening. Joey staggers backwards as the phone cracks against the floor. Joey tries to lift her gun, but Shep never gives her a chance.

Lashing out with another punch, he buries his fist in her face and she reflexively pulls the trigger. There’s a loud bang as the stray shot ricochets off the concrete, making a pinhole in the metal wall. Joey crumbles to the floor, unconscious. Her head hits the pavement with a hollow thunk. Standing over her, Shep reaches for his own gun to finish the job.

“Get away from her!” I shout, tackling Shep from behind. It’s like tackling a motor-home. I plow into him, but he barely budges. I don’t have a prayer. He whips around, backhanding me so hard across the face I almost black out.

“Do you realize how easy this could’ve been!?” he yells.

I’m on my feet, but as I fight for equilibrium, he grabs my neck and tosses me back toward the parade floats. As I crash into the float that’s shaped like a train engine, hundreds of tiny Christmas lights shatter. I swing furiously to hit him back. He blocks my punch and lashes out even harder than before. “No more chances!” he shouts, raging toward me. “I want my money!”

With a violent pop and a neanderthal grunt, he plants his whole fist in my left eye. Then he pulls back and does it again. My eye twitches and burns, somehow moving by itself. It’s already swelling shut. “Tell me where it is, Oliver!” Shep growls as he pounds me once more. “Where’s my fuckin’ money!?”

Something wet runs down my cheek. In the background, I hear a gun go off in the other room. Then I hear my brother scream. I try to look over Shep’s shoulder to see what’s happening. But all I see is Shep’s fist, once again crashing toward me.