Thick as Thieves

50

There is heat in Carr’s face again, and a rushing sound in his ears, and the feelings that eluded him with Declan come surging back now. He looks at the Taurus on the table, and has to make a fist to stop himself from reaching for it.

“Long time, Tina,” he says.

She purses her lips. “Not long enough, if you know what I mean,” she says, and looks at Declan. “You pat him down?”

“Jaysus, girl, he’s not come here to throw down. If that’s what he wanted, he’d have done it already.”

“That’s your view. Pat him down.”

Declan rolls his eyes and puts up his hands in mock despair. “Indulge her, lad,” he says. Carr stares at Tina for a moment, and then he stands and puts his palms on the table and spreads his legs. Declan is quick and thorough, and there’s only the slightest hesitation when his fingers find the mic taped between Carr’s shoulders. He smiles at Carr and looks at Tina. “Like a baby,” he says.

Tina goes to the kitchen window and looks up the hill. Then she turns to Carr. “Great. Now if you two are through catching up, we can-”

“Not quite through,” Carr says softly.

“What, more questions? Let me guess-Valerie?”

“I want to know what happened to her.”

Declan coughs nervously. “Come on, lad, you-”

Tina cuts him off. “He knows what happened to her. He knows.”

Carr nods slowly, as his chest tightens. “It was at Chun’s place?”

“She never saw it coming, if that makes you feel better. And it was clean. And fast.”

The floor is shifting beneath him and Tina’s voice is faint. Carr sits down again, carefully. Declan is staring at the floor, and Tina is back at the window. “I shouldn’t have let Chun see it happen, though,” she continues. “That was a mistake. The woman went fucking ape-shit-put up a hell of a fight.”

“Where?” Carr says. His voice is small and choked. “Where is she?”

“Valerie? Burial at sea, due east of the Boca Beach Club, four miles out or so. I don’t know the GPS coordinates or anything.”

The room seems to darken, and Carr’s knees shake. “Christ,” he whispers, and he closes his eyes and there is Valerie in Napa, the candlelight on her arms and neck, her hair coming loose from its braid, her smile. And there she is in Portland, the dying orange light on her face, her hands cold under his shirt. Maybe that’s what we’ll do afterward, you and me. We’ll conduct a little research to find some happy couples. We’ll be like archaeologists. And there is her amber voice, close in his ear, intimate. Afterward. And there is the weight of her, above him, the heat of her body washing over him. Carr’s chest aches, and his bones are lead.

“Regret’s a bitch,” Tina says from somewhere far off. “You spent all that time wondering about her, but she wasn’t lying to you. You ask me, I think she liked you. She put up with your whining, which was more than I-”

“Stop talking,” Carr says. He is surprised to find himself on his feet, his chair overturned. He wants the Taurus, but Declan has a hand over it and is shaking his head.

Tina looks at Carr. “At last, something we agree on: enough fucking talk. How many men out there?”

“Too many,” Carr says.

“I count seven,” Tina says. “Am I right?”

Declan chuckles. “You planning on a war, love?”

“I’m not planning to go anyplace with Boyce.”

“Darlin’, I think they’ve got us fair and square.”

Tina crosses her white arms on her chest. “The hell they do. We’ve got Carr. If they want him back in one piece, they’ll let us walk.”

Carr’s laugh is jagged and loud. “You think anyone on earth cares if I’m in one piece?”

“You better hope Boyce does,” Tina says. “Otherwise this is going to be a mess, and you’ll be the first stain.” And she slips the Glock from her shoulder holster and points it at Carr.

Declan laughs. “We have a better negotiating position than that, girl. Boyce wants his money, for chrissakes, and recovery’s easier with us than without. In fact, it’s impossible without us.”

Tina’s mouth puckers in disgust. “You think I’m going to deal away my money?”

“It’s not just your money.”

“Whatever.”

Declan smiles and walks around the table. He puts a hand on Tina’s shoulder. “I like to mix it up as much as the next fellow, but it’s nice when there’s at least the ghost of a chance. You know Boyce as well as I do, love. He leaves no daylight.”

Tina shakes off his hand. “You are a fucking old woman. After all that work, the time we put in, all the goddamn bridges we burned-you’re ready to deal it away? Well, I’m not.” She turns the Glock on Carr again. “How many men out there?”

“I forget.”

Declan’s smile is unwavering. “Who says we have to deal it all away? That’s what negotiation is about. I’m sure Boyce will agree, recovering some money is better than recovering none at all.” He puts his hand out again.

She steps back and keeps her gun on Carr. There are pink spots on her cheeks, the first time Carr has ever seen color there. His mouth is dry and he looks again for the Taurus, but he can’t see it on the table.

Tina shakes her head at Declan. “You’re mister diplomat now? Sure, Boyce might negotiate-and then he’ll hose us once he has the cash. And then where will we be? I’m getting tired of asking, Carr-how many fucking men?”

“Two. Four. A hundred. Go out and count them yourself.”

Declan drapes a big arm on her shoulder. “We’ll still be alive, love. Even a shit deal is better than dead.”

Tina ducks from beneath his arm and draws the second Glock from her hip. “The hell it is. If you think I’m-”

Declan hits her with the Taurus on the side of the head, and Tina crumples to the floor. He kicks her guns away, kneels beside her, and checks her breathing and her pulse. Then he slides all three guns across the tiles to Carr. “Better than dead,” he says, and he picks Tina up and carries her to the sofa.

Boyce and five of his men are on the patio when Carr opens the door. The men go inside. Carr hands Boyce the guns. “You hear it?” Carr asks.

“I heard. I’m sorry about Valerie.”

“So am I,” Carr says, swallowing hard. “It wasn’t a surprise, but…”

“Knowing it is different.”

Carr leans heavily against a whitewashed wall, dizzy for a moment in the morning air. “You’ll deal with the money?”

Boyce nods. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Carr waves him off. “I’m fine.”

Boyce looks at him for a moment and then puts out a massive hand. They shake and Boyce goes inside, and Carr walks through a gate in the stone fence and down to the beach.

He keeps walking until the sand is firm beneath his feet, and then he stops and watches the ocean, and the waves unfurling. The stray he’d seen at dawn is back, rolling and splashing in a tidal pool. His coat is heavy with water, glistening like a seal’s, and he’s holding a piece of driftwood in his mouth. A boy comes down the beach now, with a leash and a yellow tennis ball. The boy whistles; the dog attends. Not a stray then. Carr looks north and sees a lighthouse in the distance. He thinks about walking there, but finds that he’s kneeling in the sand and that he cannot move.