Tick Tock

Chapter 24

"GOING OUT FOR ICE CREAM," I said, getting up from the game of Trivial Pursuit that we started playing after dinner. Mary Catherine gave me a quizzical look as I was leaving. Her concern only seemed to increase when I gave her a thumbs-up on the way out the screen door.

But instead of getting ice cream, I hopped into the Impala and called into my squad to get the address for the Flaherty family in Breezy Point. Was that a little crazy? It was. But then again, so was I by that point.

Their house was on the Rockaway Inlet side of the Point about ten blocks away. I drove straight there.

They really did have a pit bull chained in their front yard. It went mad as I stepped out of my car and made my way up the rickety steps.

It wasn't madder than me, though. I actually smiled at it. After today and everything that I had seen, I was in a man-bites-dog sort of mood.

I pounded on the door.

"Oh, this better be good," said the bald guy who answered it.

The guy was big. He was also shirtless and in damn good shape, I could see: huge bowling-ball shoulders, six-pack abs, prison-yard pumped. There was another man, just as big and mean-looking and covered in tattoos, standing behind him.

I should have been cautious then. I knew a violent criminal mobster asshole when I saw one. But I guess I was through giving a shit for the day.

"You Flaherty?" I said.

"Yeah. Who the fuck are you?"

"My name's Bennett. You have a kid?"

"I got five of 'em. At least. Which one we talkin' about here?"

"Fat, freckles, about fourteen. Did I say fat?"

"You talking about my Seany? What's up?"

"Yeah, well, your Seany split my eleven-year-old's chin open today is what's up," I said, staring into Flaherty's soulless doll's eyes. "He had to go to the hospital."

"That can't be right," the man said, stone-faced. He smiled coldly. "We went fishing today. All day. It was sweet. Got some blues. Hey, Billy, remember when Sean caught that blowfish today?"

"Oh, yeah," the thug behind him said with a guffaw. "Blowfish. That was the puffy balloon thing, right? That shit was funny."

"See. Guess you made a mistake," Flaherty senior said. "Wait a second. Bennett. I know you. You got all those rainbow-coalition crumb crunchers, right? You're a cop, too. Look, Billy. It's the Octo-cop in the flesh."

"I do have a gun," I said with a grin. "You want me to show it to you?"

I really did feel like showing it to him. In fact, I actually felt like giving him a taste of my Glock.

"I know what they look like, but thanks, anyway," Flaherty said, cold as ice. "If you don't mind, though, I'd like to get back to the ballgame. Mets might even win one for a change. Have a nice night, Officer."

That's when he slammed the door in my face. I felt like kicking it in. The pit was in a frenzy. So was I. But even in my stress-induced hysteria, I knew that wasn't a good idea. I chose to retreat.

An empty Miller High Life can landed beside me as I was coming down the steps.

Young Flaherty himself waved to me from the rattletrap's second-story window.

"Gee, Officer, I apologize. Must have slipped out of my hand."

Even over the dog's apoplexy, I heard raucous laughter from inside.

Death all day and ridicule for dessert. What a day. I crushed the can and hit the stairs before I could take my gun out.