The wake-up

27

"You know what the fuck time it is?" said Cecil.

Thorpe held his State Department badge and ID to the security camera. "Let me in, asshole. You want a warrant, I'll come back with a SWAT team."

"I got to ask Missy."

"Make a decision, Cecil. Use your nutsack for something other than a hand rest."

Silence from the intercom.

"Time's up. Good-bye, Cecil. You explain it to her when I come back with-" The security gate swung open and Thorpe drove in.

Cecil met him at the front door. "Wait here. I'll go wake up her and Clark."

"What's that on the wall?" asked Thorpe, pointing. As Cecil turned to look, Thorpe shoved his head into the wall, drove him so hard, the plaster cracked. Thorpe stepped over him, walked down the hall. It was a cheap shot, and a dangerous move, but Thorpe needed to get into character. He needed to sell a story.

The master bedroom was dimly lit, redolent of good pot and Missy's perfume. Missy and Clark were sleeping in each other's arms, adrift on red silk sheets, the bed a massive heart. It was probably supposed to be romantic, but to Thorpe, it looked like they were swimming in blood. He lay at the foot of the bed, resting on one elbow now, watching the door. While he waited, he slipped a hand under the sheets and played with Missy's foot. She cooed, nestled deeper into the pillow, one slim breast falling free of the top sheet, her nipple hardening. Thorpe looked over, saw Clark's eyes open wide. "Hey, Clark, surf's up."

Cecil staggered into the bedroom waving a.44 Magnum. He saw Thorpe.

Thorpe yawned. "Don't do anything stupid."

Cecil moved closer. There was a lump rising already in the middle of his forehead, bits of plaster sticking to the reddening skin.

"What happened to your head, Cecil?" asked Missy, awake now, rubbing her eyes. "You look like a unicorn."

"I'm going to kill this son of a bitch," said Cecil, freckles flaring as he drew down on Thorpe.

Thorpe winked at Missy, his hand still under the covers.

"Damn it, Cecil, put the gun away before you hurt somebody," said Clark. He looked at Thorpe. "It's the middle of the night, Frank. What's going on?"

Cecil was trying to hold that big.44 steady, but his hand was shaking.

Thorpe smiled at him. Most people had no idea how hard it was to shoot someone who was looking you in the eyes.

"Stop it, Cecil!" snapped Missy. "You get your ass out of here now. I mean it."

Cecil's hand was twitching so badly that even if he got off a shot, Thorpe was probably safe. He wiped his eyes, slowly lowered the gun, breathing so hard, it was as if he had been running a race.

"Go on," said Missy, her voice gentle now. "Leave the gun."

"No fucking way," said Cecil, still watching Thorpe.

"Leave it," said Missy. "We're fine. Please? Do it for me."

Thorpe waited until Cecil had laid the.44 down on the nightstand, waited until he had started for the door. "Why don't you go make us some coffee? Black, two sugars for me. You probably already know how Clark and Missy take it." He listened to Cecil cursing all the way down the hall, then pulled his hand out from under the sheets. He backed off the hammer of the 9-mm he had been holding. "I'm glad you spoke up, Missy, I would have hated to ruin your linens."

"What's going on, Frank?" asked Clark. "Are we under arrest?"

Thorpe glanced around. "You see a cop?" He reached into his jacket, tossed Missy his badge and ID. "Here's a souvenir. I don't need it anymore."

"I don't understand," said Clark.

"I think I do." Missy watched him. "Are you here to kill us, Frank?"

She caught on fast. It made Thorpe's job so much easier. "I decided against it."

"What changed your mind?" asked Missy.

Clark turned to Missy. "I'm confused."

About ten minutes later, Thorpe had told them his story. The three of them were still on the bed-Thorpe stretched out, languid as a cat, Clark sitting cross-legged, half-dressed now in a pair of Matrix pajama bottoms, smoking a joint. Missy remained nude, completely at ease, one bare leg sticking out from the sheets. She was so taut and lean, Thorpe could count the striations in her inner thigh. No tan line, either.

"You have more twists than fifty miles of back road, Frank," said Missy, not taking her eyes off him. "I mean that as a compliment."

"You don't have to believe me," said Thorpe. "I just wanted to give you the option."

Clark offered Thorpe the joint. "Where are my manners?"

Thorpe ignored the joint. "Same place I left my sense of fair play."

"So this whole thing with the fake ID and the art was your way of gaining our trust?" She tossed her hair, blond and brassy. "You didn't have to work so hard."

"It wasn't hard. A badge gets a lot of respect, even from people who should know better." Thorpe shifted position, took up even more room on the bed. "You have to admit you were grateful when I told you the art was fake. I wouldn't know a fake from a firing squad, but it worked. I could have killed you any time I wanted after that."

Clark blew a smoke ring. "Killing us isn't really the hard part. It's avoiding Vlad and Arturo afterward-that's the puzzlement. Guillermo knows that better than anyone."

"Oh, I wouldn't have killed you until after I'd killed them," said Thorpe.

"You think you're Superman?" Clark giggled. "Where's your cape, dude?"

"I don't need to be Superman; I just need to get close." Thorpe patted the sheets. "Look at us here, snug as bugs." He smiled at Missy. "Five minutes after I gave you the benefit of my art expertise, you asked me to stay for breakfast. Remember? Sooner or later, you would have introduced me to Vlad and Arturo, and maybe we would have gone out sailing, or up to Big Bear to ski, and then…" He cocked a finger at Clark. "Bang." Turned the finger on Missy. "Bang." He shrugged. "Getting close means the other person has let his guard down. After that, it's just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity, and I'm very patient."

Missy let the sheet slip from her breasts. "Vlad and Arturo might have surprised you."

"Maybe."

"Definitely."

"I got to award this one to Missy," said Clark, "which is why I find it hard to believe that Guillermo sent you." He pulled the sheet back over Missy's breasts. "Me and Guillermo got what's called a 'balance of terror' thing working between us. Vlad and Arturo scare the holy shit out of him, and I'm not a greedy man. Now, Guillermo can throw more troops into the fight, but if things get too messy, too public, the police and DEA move in, and we all lose."

"That's why Guillermo hired me. I clean up after myself."

"You're not greedy, Clark, but Guillermo is," said Missy.

"Don't start with that again," said Clark. "Did the Aryan Brotherhood send you to stir up trouble, Frank? Or was it the Yellow Magic boys? I know they're looking to expand operations. Come on, who hired you? I'll pay plenty for the truth."

Thorpe shrugged. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up. You do what you want."

"What I want is a hallucinogen that sharpens my reflexes, makes my dick hard, and improves my memory." Clark grinned. "I'm working on it, too."

Missy hadn't taken her eyes off Thorpe. "Listen to him, Clark."

"You want a war, Missy and I don't," said Clark. "Vlad and Arturo are good, the best, but they're only two men."

"Frank makes three," said Missy.

Thorpe didn't respond.

"Is that what you're here for?" asked Clark. "You offering your services? Was that stare-down with Cecil supposed to impress us?"

"Putting Cecil out of his misery wouldn't have impressed my grand-mother, and I don't want a job."

"Then why the heads-up?" Clark leaned forward on the bed. "Why are you being so nice to us, Frank?" His eyes were all pupil now. "Missy tells me everything. That's the basis of a good marriage."

"I always wondered what the basis was," said Thorpe.

"Now you know." A sharp edge in Clark's voice now. "So why the freebie?"

"No such thing as a freebie," said Thorpe. "I had a deal with Guillermo, but he's backing off, and I'm not about to wait around for the official cancellation. Consider this payback." He eyed Missy. "Besides, maybe we'll meet up again sometime and you'll remember when we were all in bed together. A man has to think long range in my business."

Missy shook her head. "If you're serious enough to take out Vlad and Arturo, no way would Guillermo stiff you." She nudged him with her foot, let it rest against him. "I'm a little disappointed, you coming up with this tall tale, Frank."

"I'm a little disappointed, you killing Betty B," snapped Thorpe. "Guillermo read her column and knew you'd take it hard. He started having doubts that I could pull things off, afraid you'd be mad at me for telling you the art was fake. He thought you might pull in the welcome mat."

"You did get pissed off at Frank after the article came out, babe," said Clark. "You got mad at him and Betty B and Meachum, and the Man in the Moon, too. You said you wished you had kept that damn stone plaque. Said it all looked plenty old anyway."

"I couldn't believe it when you flattened Betty B," said Thorpe. "Guillermo saw that on the news and told me to hold off on my end of the deal. He said he wanted to wait and see if you went after Meachum, too. Then all he would have to do was dime you out to the cops. The DA hates coincidences. I told him no way you would be that stupid, but Guillermo seems to think you are."

"Guillermo is going to have plenty to think about soon enough," said Missy.

Clark played with Missy's hair. "Actually, when you think about it… if Frank is telling the truth, killing Betty B saved our lives." He kissed her on the cheek. "Kudos, babe."

Thorpe slid off the bed, yawned. "You and Guillermo can work it out. I'm done."

"You go home, man, go home and tell whoever you're working for that we didn't buy the bullshit." Clark threw his pillow at Thorpe. "Dude wants to cause trouble. Split the alliance. Go on, get out of here before I make a phone call. You never even met Guillermo. He's the Invisible Man. Missy doesn't like him, but me and Guillermo, we got no beef. We got an arrangement."

Thorpe shrugged. "You might want to rethink that arrangement. Who do you think took down those two cookers of yours? Good night, Missy."

"Wait!" said Clark. "How do you know about the cookers?"

"You killed them?" said Missy.

"I don't do grunt work. I have too much respect for myself," said Thorpe. "Guillermo sent some vatos out to Riverside to do the job. Do it up good and sloppy. He wanted to see how you would respond. Little weakness on your part, Clark. That's blood in the water to someone like Guillermo."

Missy glared at Clark. "Exactly."

"You might want to make that phone call," said Thorpe. "I hope Vlad and Arturo are as ferocious as you think they are, because Guillermo has the taste now."

They called out to him, but Thorpe kept walking.