

### Insurgents

### By Benjamin Broke

### Copyright 2012 Benjamin Broke

### Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from an authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

## Contents

Insurgents

About Benjamin Broke

Also By Benjamin Broke

Contact Benjamin Broke

White Phosphorus Chapter 1

# ONE

**Tuesday July 10, 2007**

I found Freddie's pinky in the small space between the stove and the refrigerator. I knew where to look because there was blood on the countertop next to the stove and a splotch on the edge of the stove itself. My flashlight illuminated the plump little digit among the dust and bits of food that had accumulated in the narrow crevice over the years. I used a broom to sweep it out onto the linoleum and, overcoming a small wave of queasiness, picked it up and plunked it bloody-end first into a Ziploc bag that I'd filled with ice. Luckily Freddie kept his freezer well stocked with ice.

I sealed the bag and rushed out the door of the trailer and down the steps, only a few minutes behind the ambulance that had taken Freddie to the emergency room. I knew that time was critical, and that reattachment became less likely the longer you waited. The car belonged to the Guardian Security Agency, and it came equipped with a spinning yellow dome light, which in the nine months that I had worked there I hadn't yet had a chance to use. I flipped it on and tore out of the mobile home park, making a left onto Raims Street heading toward the side-gate. I figured I didn't have time to stop at the gatehouse and explain the situation to James, so I gave him a courtesy honk and drove around the gate arm, skidding a little.

When I got to the hospital a doctor and nurse were waiting for the pinky, and they seemed pleased that I'd put it on ice. After they took it from me I sat in the waiting area for a while, not knowing whether to leave or stay and see how it turned out, but eventually I decided there was no reason for me to be there, and I was halfway down the hall when Freddie's sister, Meredith, walked by me. I knew who she was because her son was one of my oldest friends and I grew up across the street from her, but she either didn't recognize me or didn't notice me as she bustled towards the triage nurse's desk. She was wearing a loose housedress, and I could tell she'd been in bed moments before.

I turned and followed her and stood at a respectful distance as the nurse told her that her brother was in surgery and that she would have to wait to find out anything definite. "But what happened to him?" She asked.

"He had an accident, but he should be fine." The nurse said. "Why don't you have a seat and I'll make sure a doctor comes and speaks with you in a little while."

Meredith harrumphed and gathered herself up like she was about to argue with the nurse, but then just let out a sigh and turned around.

"Miss Divos?" I said.

"Ben? I didn't recognize you before. What are you doing here?"

"I'm working in Lakeview now as a security agent." I said. "I'm the one who called the ambulance to pick up your brother."

"What happened?"

"Well it's a terrible thing. He uh, he accidentally chopped off a finger." I said. "His pinky. They're reattaching it now, he should be fine."

"How in the world did he manage to do that?" She asked.

"I don't know. He said something about chopping carrots. I guess he slipped."

"Carrots?" She squinted as she said the word. "He cut off his _pinky_ chopping carrots? That doesn't make any sense."

"Well that's what he told me." I said.

"If you're chop-chop-chopping like this," she made the motion of chopping a carrot, "how would you accidentally hit your pinky for goodness sake? The only fingers in any danger are the thumb and the index finger." She looked at me as if I was supposed to have the answer.

"Maybe he was chopping some other way." I said. She was about to say something but I cut her off. "I really have to get going Miss Divos, but I'm going to give you the number of the guardhouse over at Lakeview. If you could call and let us know how things turn out, we'd appreciate it." I got a post-it note from the nurse's desk and wrote the number on it. "It doesn't matter how late it is." I added. "Someone's there 'round the clock."

When I got back to Lakeview I went to the mobile home park and pulled in front of Freddie's trailer. I'd left his door unlocked and I didn't want to be responsible if he got back from the hospital and found his TV missing, but I also had another reason. On the drive from the hospital I'd been thinking about what his sister had said about the improbability of hitting your pinky while chopping a carrot.

I flipped on the light and took a look around his kitchen. There was a big knife on his counter, and a cutting board, but there wasn't a carrot, or any other food in sight. There was also no blood on the cutting board or knife, just on the counter and stove. I made sure his door was locked and went back to the guardhouse. My shift had been over for a half hour by then, and I wanted to get home.

Jessie already knew about the pinky incident when I got there. She said she'd been worried when she woke up and I still wasn't home, so she called the guardhouse and talked to my boss, John Marchin, who also happens to be her grandfather. "Pap told me you saved a man's finger." She said.

"That's right," I said, expanding my chest, "just part of the job."

"We should celebrate."

"Jessie it's four in the morning, how can you even think about smoking weed right now?"

She got her bong off the floor by the bed. "Come on," she said, "I don't have to be at work for another eight hours and it's even longer for you." She opened the makeup bag where she kept her stash and pulled a chunk off of a large bud, stuffing it into the bowl. "We need to spend some quality time together." She said. She held the flame to the bowl and sucked greedily before handing the smoking water pipe to me. I took a hit, inhaling until the embers went black.

"I'm beat." I said. "This'll just put me to sleep."

"That's okay." She said, taking the bong and refilling the bowl. "I'll just lay with you." I took the first hit this time and passed it to her. She finished the bowl and set the pipe down on the floor. We made love in the smoky morning light and I fell into a deep sleep.

# TWO

When I arrived at the guardhouse the next evening I was greeted with applause from Chris and Niti. "Nothing exciting ever happens on my shift." Chris said, slapping me on the back. "You haven't even been here a year and you already save a man's finger. I fuckin' hate you."

"Yeah," I said smiling, "it was pretty dicey there for a while. I had to use my dome-light, but I got the digit in question to the hospital." All the male guards liked to speak in faux police jargon to pass the time.

"These came for you." Niti said, smiling as she handed me a bouquet of flowers. I didn't know what to do and I stood there holding the flowers like a dope. Niti laughed. "Read the card." She said.

"It's a thank you from Meredith Divos," I said, "That was nice of her."

"You should put them in water -here." She took the flowers from me and went into the little kitchen area at the back of the guardhouse. I told Chris the whole story of the severed pinky, and was going over some of the more grotesque details when we got a call that some day-guests had parked in resident spots over on Milbourne. I got in one of the Agency's golf carts and headed down. I wrote two tickets, one for a large black Ford Excursion, and one for a gray Mercedes. The rest of the evening was pretty average. I told some kids to be careful with a bike ramp they'd built, and took down a few unauthorized flyers from the community bulletin board.

It was almost time for my side-gate shift when I got a call on my walkie-talkie about a noise complaint on Lakeshore Boulevard. "Mrs. Mc Affie again. Probably just some kids setting off M-80s, could you check it out?" Chris said.

"Can't you go?" I asked. "The guardhouse is closer to Lakeshore than I am."

"Sorry, Niti's on her dinner break so I can't leave. Just go show your face so she doesn't worry."

"Alright I'm on my way." I said.

I drove to Lakeshore Boulevard and pulled up in front of Mrs. Mc Affie's house. She was waiting on her front porch. "Maybe ten minutes ago." She said. Her gray hair was pulled up and she was wearing an old-fashioned nightgown and slippers. "I distinctly heard two gunshots."

"Gunshots? Don't you think it's more likely that it was some kids setting off firecrackers left over from fourth of July?"

"I know the difference between firecrackers and gunshots." She said. "All my brothers were hunters, I've been around guns my whole life. It was definitely two gunshots and they came from his house."

"Whose house?"

"Junior Pierson's place." She said. "I told them all this on the phone."

"Well, I'll be happy to go check it out and make sure everything's okay." I said. "There's probably an explanation." By the look on her face I'd say she thought I was patronizing her and she wasn't too pleased about it. I tried to look more serious and gave her a nod. I walked over to her neighbor's front porch and knocked in a not-too-authoritative way. It took Junior Pierson a long time to come to the door. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and I could see through the window that he was coming from the garage. He was a middle-aged man with thin, dyed black hair that he wore slicked back. He was tall, about six three, and usually wore rimless glasses although he didn't have them on then. He opened the door and seemed out of breath. I got the distinct impression that he'd been in the garage masturbating and I'd interrupted him. "Sorry to bother you." I said. "I'm here because Mrs. Mc Affie says she heard something. She thought it was gunshots."

"Oh." He said, twisting his mouth up in a way that didn't seem right for a man of his age. "I think I heard it too. There were some kids down by the pier over there. I assumed they were setting off cherry bombs or some such. The fourth of July wasn't so long ago."

"Yeah, that's what I figured. I'm just trying to put her fears to rest." I said. "So can I tell her everything is fine?"

"You may tell her that everything is fine and that if I see those kids around here again I'll have a word with them personally."

I thanked him and went back to Mrs. Mc Affie's house to tell her what he'd said. She insisted that the noise had come from _inside_ Junior Pierson's house, but said that as long as he was alright that was what mattered. "He's fine ma'am." I said. "Is there anything else I can do for you today?" She didn't seem to like the question, so she didn't answer, she just sighed and shut her door.

The noise call had made me late for my gate duty and when I got to the side-gate Franco was annoyed. "Oh you're an agent now, I guess you don't have to show up for your shift on time." He said. He'd been giving me this routine for a month, ever since I was promoted from guard to agent. Everyone knew that the only reason I'd been promoted was because of my connection to John Marchin's granddaughter, but Franco was the only one who wasn't afraid to say it to my face. I guess he had a pretty good beef, he'd been there for three years and I'd only been there eight months when I got promoted, but I never asked for it, and with the yearly pay increases Franco was making a lot more money than I was. Seniority also meant that he could choose his own hours while I was still working the 7:00 PM to 3:00 AM shift like always. The main difference between guard and agent was that after I'd been an agent for six months I would get full health coverage.

"I was on a call." I said.

"Yeah." Franco said as he picked up his lunch box and a police textbook. "Have a fun night." He got into the golf cart I'd parked behind the gatehouse and drove away. When my shift was over I'd have to leave on foot.

Watching the side-gate was one of the most boring duties that you could pull. Usually I brought something to read when I knew I'd be at the side-gate, but that night I'd forgotten, so the only diversion I had was the small AM/FM radio that John had left there so he could listen to his Cleveland Browns lose every Sunday during the football season.

The reception out there was pretty bad, and all I could get was the evangelists, politics, or country. I listened to one of the right-wing guys talking about how things were going great in Iraq but the liberal media spin machine was focusing on the negative and trying to make us lose the war. He threw around the word _treason_ a lot and it was entertaining. I must have listened to him for an hour and a half before I heard the car coming up Raims Street.

I stood and leaned partway out of the small hut with my elbows on the counter and looked at the car coming toward me. It was a black Mercedes that didn't seem to be slowing down as it approached the gate. I considered the possibility that the person driving was drunk and about to smash into the gatehouse, but the car veered away as it approached the gate. I knew what the person was doing because I had done the same thing the night before. I saw a familiar face behind the wheel as the car skidded around the gate-arm. The driver saw me too, our eyes met for a brief moment before the car was gone.

It was my friend David Telano driving the car –Meredith Divos' son. I knew I had to call it in, but for a moment I considered pretending it hadn't happened. We'd gotten into some trouble together as kids, and the no-snitching code made me want to try to cover for him, but I knew it would be stupid. David was no criminal mastermind, and stealing a Mercedes was out of his league, so he would surely get caught. I didn't want any part of it. I picked up my walkie-talkie. "I just had a two eighty six over here at the side-gate. Repeat two eighty six at the side-gate."

It took a moment for John to respond. "Did you get a make and license number?"

"Black Mercedes, I didn't get the license."

"I'll pull it up on the surveillance and send Niti to check on all the black Mercedes' on the car list."

"Copy that." I said. "Will you let me know what you find out?"

"Sure." He said. Not more than five minutes later I heard John's voice on the walkie-talkie again. "Niti what's your twenty?"

"Milbourne and Lakeshore." She said. "The Norman's place is the first on my list. They have a black Mercedes."

"Junior Pierson on your list?"

"Yes he is."

"Better get over there first, I just got a noise complaint. It might be related." He said.

"OK." She answered. I wondered if it could be related to Mrs. Mc Affie's gunshots from earlier, but I didn't say anything. I cursed David in my head and wondered whether or not I should tell the police that I recognized him. I figured it wasn't important because I could've just as easily not seen the driver. The whole thing gave me a bad feeling. I didn't think that David could've planned to crash the gate while I was working. It was just a bad coincidence that he chose to steal a car on my shift. I _had_ once told him that the side gate was a joke and that you could just drive around it, but how was I supposed to know that he would use that information to pull a stupid stunt?

I expected the police to come question me, but they never came. I sat there for almost two hours before I heard anything. Finally my walkie-talkie spoke. "Ben, you'd better lock up the side gate and get down here to Junior Pierson's place. The police will want to talk to you." John said.

"It was his car?"

"Yeah. He's on his way to the hospital -he got shot. It's a bad scene over here, real bad. You'd better get down here."

"I'm on my way." I said.

As I walked towards Lakeshore Boulevard I found myself in a crowd of people who were going the same way. I asked Mr. Paul where he was headed. "Tolly called me on the phone and said they took Junior away in an ambulance. She said there were police all over the place and she even saw the coroner's van. I thought I'd go see what happened, see if maybe I could help." I nodded and picked up my pace.

The police had Lakeshore Boulevard blocked off with their cars, and there was a line of yellow police tape holding back a growing crowd of people on the sidewalk. I pushed my way through and saw Mrs. Mc Affie on the other side of the tape, talking to a man and woman who weren't in uniform. I ducked under the tape, which drew the attention of a policeman nearby who told me to stop. I was about to explain who I was when the woman who'd been interviewing Mrs. Mc Affie approached us. "He's okay Mike," she said, "we wanna talk to him." The cop nodded slightly and went back to looking tough. "You're the one who was here earlier on a noise complaint?" She asked.

"Yeah." I said. "I'm Ben Perkins." I stuck my hand out but she was busy flipping open her notebook and getting a pen out of her pocket.

"I'm detective Reyes," she said, not looking at me or my hand. I put it down. "How long have you been a security guard here?"

"I'm an agent." I said. "I got promoted a while back."

She sighed. "How long have you worked here Mr. Perkins?"

"Nine months and some." I said.

"The neighbor, Alice Mc Affie, called you here earlier tonight, what was that call about?"

I told her all about it and I told her about the black Mercedes crashing my gate, but didn't mention who the driver was. I said I didn't get a good look at him, but that I was almost positive it was a man, and I told her about the security camera.

"We'll want to have a look at that tape." She said. "When you were here earlier, did you see Mrs. Pierson? Was she in the house?"

"No, I didn't see her." I said. "Why? Isn't she here now?"

"She's here." Detective Reyes said. "Don't go far, we'll want to be reviewing that tape." She turned and walked back towards the man who was still questioning Mrs. Mc Affie. John was talking to some of the residents who were watching from across the street. As soon as he saw me he came over.

"What's going on?" I asked him. "Did Junior really get shot?"

"Twice." John said. "Once in the abdomen and once in the shoulder, but the paramedics said he has a good chance of pulling through. They couldn't do anything for poor Becky though."

"What?"

"Mrs. Pierson." John said. "She's been killed. Shot twice in the face."

"I didn't know." I said. "No one told me. I can't believe-"

"Just be glad you didn't see the body." John said. "Poor Niti wasn't ready for it. When I was on the force I saw some worse crime scenes, but not many. It's bad. Real bad-" Chris interrupted us on the walkie-talkie, asking for John. "Right here." He said. "What do you need?"

"There's a news crew here. They want to do a report from the scene."

"No!" John shouted. "No news crews, do you hear me? Under no circumstances are you to let them in. Understand?"

"Yeah, got it."

John was about to say something else when Chris spoke again. "They say they want to talk to me on camera. Should I tell them anything?"

"No!" John yelled. "Don't talk to them! Don't say a word, just keep them out. If they have any questions tell them to ask the police. If I see your face on the news tomorrow so help me god I'll wring your neck!"

"Alright, alright, jeez." Chris said.

"We're gonna have enough to answer for." John said to me, shaking his head. "This stuff isn't supposed to happen here, this is a gated community -and we're the ones supposed to be minding the gate."

"I gotta use the bathroom." I said. "I'm going down to the Sloop. I'll be back in a minute."

"Hurry up, we might need you." John said. I turned and walked away, past the growing crowd on the sidewalk. I went down to Main Street, past the movie house to Sloopy's Diner. I had a key, but I didn't go in, I stood in the doorway and called Jessie on my cell.

"Hi." She said. "You getting bored on gate duty again?"

"No. Listen, I don't have much time to talk. On the dresser, in my cigar box, there's a stack of cards and slips of paper. One of them is the number for David Telano. Could you get it for me? I think it's on a piece of a napkin. I need it fast."

"Why do you need that?" She asked. I could hear the creak of the floor as she walked into the bedroom with the phone.

"I can't really explain right now, but it's important. Just find me that number quick."

"If it's there I'll find it." She said. I heard her rummaging around. "Here it is. Do you want his cell or home?"

"Cell." I said. She read me the number and I repeated it to myself over and over, only stopping to thank her and tell her to watch the news. I dialed David's number and hit send. It rang three times before he answered.

"David, what the fuck is going on?"

"Oh, I thought that was you. Did you have to report me?" He asked.

"Yeah of course." I answered. "You're in a lot of trouble man, they're going to see your face on the security video."

"Who?" He asked.

"The police!" I said.

"Nah." David said with a laugh. "It won't even be reported stolen, watch. I've got the owner by the balls. He'll just say someone borrowed his car. The police won't be involved."

"Becky Pierson is dead." I said. "And Junior is in the hospital. The police are already involved."

There was silence on his end. "Dead?" He asked finally.

"Yeah, dead. That's usually what happens when you shoot someone in the face."

"I didn't shoot anyone!" He shouted.

"Uh-huh. I don't want to know okay? I just called you to say that I'm not going to lie for you. I'm not gonna risk going to jail to help you out of this shit. This is way over the line, and you _are_ going to get caught."

There was another moment of silence on his end. "I didn't even have a gun!" He yelled. "I've gotta get rid of this fucking car, quick! I-"

I didn't hear what else he said because detective Reyes had turned the corner and was walking towards me. I snapped the phone shut and slipped it into my pocket. "Who are you calling at this hour?" She asked.

"My girlfriend." I answered. "I wanted to tell her I'd be late."

"Oh? What time do you usually get off?"

"Three AM," I said, "I just thought I might be even later than usual because of all this."

She smiled at me. She knew I was lying.

# THREE

"I had to tell them it was David." I said. I was sitting next to Jessie on the couch with the TV on mute. I explained that it was plausible that I couldn't get a good look at him as he drove past, but when they freeze-framed the video and zoomed in, you could see his face clearly. If I'd kept quiet and they found out later that we were friends, it would look like I was involved in some way.

"Why'd you want his number?" Jessie asked.

"I gave it to the cops." I said. It was the truth. After I told them I recognized him, I gave them his number from my cell. I didn't tell Jess that I'd called him because I didn't want to admit to doing something so dumb.

"This is silly." She said. "David wouldn't kill anyone. He might steal stuff or sell some dope, but he's not a murderer."

"Maybe he graduated." I said.

"No, not David. He's gentle. He acts tough, but inside he's like a little boy. He wouldn't kill anyone."

"All the evidence pointing to him couldn't be a coincidence." I said. "You think he just stole a car and the people he stole it from happened to get shot by some other intruder? There's never been a violent crime like this in the history of Lakeview."

"Something's wrong with it. David wouldn't do that." She said. "Tell it to me again, start at the beginning." She picked up her bong and lighter and looked at me as she took a hit. I went through everything starting with the first noise call. She asked me questions about it until I could barely keep my eyes open. I told her I was going to bed.

A few hours later I was dimly aware of her getting into bed beside me. "Pap called." She said. I grunted. "He told me to tell you that there's a company meeting today at two. George Loeffler wants to talk to all the GSA employees about what happened."

"Okay, thanks." I said, trying to end the conversation quickly so I could get back to sleep. I heard her sniff a couple of times and realized she was crying. "What's the matter?"

"It was on the early news." She said. "That poor woman. The whole town is devastated, they put up memorials and pictures-"

"The whole town despised her." I said. "She'd been married to Junior for three years, and people were still calling her 'that home wrecker'. Now that she's dead I'm sure she'll be sainted. Are you really crying for Becky Pierson? You must still be high."

"That poor woman." She said again. "Shot in her own home. It's not right. The whole town came out to show their respect."

"Yeah but people die all the time Jess. The other day they were saying on the radio that in Darfur there's these gangs that go around-"

"Don't talk to me about Darfur!" She said. "This happened right here! It happened in Lakeview." She reached for a tissue.

"You're crazy." I said. "You didn't even know Becky Pierson."

"Fuck off. I'm sad about it all right? Is that okay with you?"

"Darfur." I said as I turned over and pulled the sheets up to my chin.

The entire Guardian Security Agency sat in rows of folding chairs in the guardhouse's common room at two o'clock. Even Ms. Ryan who did payroll and other paperwork for the agency was there. George Loeffler and John sat facing us with their backs to the big map of Lakeview that took up most of the room's wall. There were ten of us in uniform, four part time guards, four full time guards, and Garrett, the only agent other than me. He had been with the GSA almost as long as John Marchin. There was no chitchat or messing around before the meeting, we sat there in silence until George Loeffler stood to address us.

"Murder..." He had to stop to clear his throat and it turned into a prolonged coughing jag. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his mouth. The whole display made him seem very old. He began again: "Murder, right here, not four blocks away, within the gates of our community. I wish I could express to you all what I am feeling right now, but words fail me. I won't try to make you understand, I'll just tell you that I'm disappointed."

He had to swallow hard here, and he took a look around the room, staring directly at me for a moment before he continued. "We must take every step necessary to insure that something like this cannot happen again. From what we know now there's no reason to believe that this incident will result in the termination of anyone's employment. Not as a direct reaction, anyway. But there _will_ be an internal investigation to find out what could've been done to prevent it. We need to look very carefully at our procedures and protocols, and make sure that nothing like this can happen again. The Resident's Council wanted to disband the GSA and bring in an outside firm, but I told them no. I only hope that my decision was not a foolish one. Everyone who lives in Lakeview is like family to me, but Junior Pierson especially. His father and I founded this community together over forty years ago. We envisioned a place that would be safe from the encroachments of the outside world. A place where you could take your family and not have to worry about them, a place where you could leave your doors unlocked. I believe that we can do better. That's all I have to say. I, I just think we can do better..." He was getting choked up and had to stop talking.

"We're with you sir." James called out, and suddenly everyone was clapping and standing up. I joined them, and noticed tears streaming down Niti's face. We surrounded George Loeffler and everyone was shaking his hand and patting him on the back. I was unmoved but I put on a good show with the rest of them.

When things settled down Mr. Loeffler left and John took over the meeting. He told us to brace ourselves for some trouble. He told us that the Resident's Council was making certain demands regarding the GSA, and that there would probably be some changes coming. He reminded us of our responsibility to the community and to the Pierson family. Then he opened up the floor for suggestions on how we could do a better job of keeping Lakeview crime-free. I went first and said that we needed to secure the side-gate so you couldn't drive around it. Everyone agreed. John said that gate and perimeter security had been one of the council's main concerns and that we would be checking every inch of the fence around Lakeview to make sure it hadn't been breached.

Then Franco spoke out. "We should have clearer policies." He said. "For example if you're called to someone's house for suspected gunfire, the policy should be that we have to go _in_ the house and look around. If the resident doesn't want you to, you can say 'sorry sir, it's the policy'. That way you know there isn't a psychopath pointing a gun at the person just out of view."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." I said. "Is that really what you think happened?"

"Okay smart guy, how do you think it happened then?" He asked.

"I don't know." I said. "But Junior showed no sign of distress when I was there. When he came to the door he certainly didn't look like a guy who was being held at gunpoint. Maybe the first noise complaint really _was_ just kids setting off fireworks. Anyway it was more than two hours before the two-eighty-six at my gate."

"Oh boy, and you're saying _I_ don't know what I'm talking about? Mrs. Mc Affie called in two noise complaints last night, and both times she said she heard two shots. Mrs. Pierson got shot twice and Junior got shot twice, and in between, you came and spoke to Junior and didn't notice anything wrong. This Telano guy had to still be there when you came. If our policy was different it wouldn't matter if the investigating _agent_ was observant or not. We need to make the policy idiot-proof."

I was about to answer, but John interrupted. "We're off on an unproductive tangent here. We can't write our policy to protect against armed home-invaders, we'd end up as some sort of occupying military force, and the people don't want that-"

"No, I'm not saying-"

John had his hand up and Franco stopped talking. "Now listen, this conversation will go on, but this meeting has come to an end. There are strong feelings all around, I appreciate that, but we're on the same team in this room, understood?" Franco looked at me and then back at John. "Now I suggest you all attend the prayer meeting and procession that's being held this evening. Everyone's gathering at the upper park at three. That's all." Everyone stood up to go, and Franco headed toward the locker room. I moved to follow him, but John was there next to me. "Come take a walk." He said.

"I wanted to tell Franco something."

"Ah, let him go." He said. "What's getting in a big argument gonna accomplish?" We left the guardhouse and I followed him up the street toward the parking lot. "I just wanted to let you know that no one faults you for this, Ben. Despite what Franco said. He's just mad that you got promoted over him, that's all. There was no way you could have known what was going on."

"When Junior came to the door he wasn't being held at gunpoint. I would've known something was up. Franco's version is wrong."

"Maybe so, but I think the police are working from the same assumptions. It's the only scenario that really makes sense, but that still doesn't mean it's your fault. It's easy for someone to criticize you after the fact, but they weren't there. Maybe no one would've noticed anything was wrong. Who's to say?"

"I'm telling you _nothing was_ wrong. He was in his garage with his shirt off. He came out and told me it was kids setting off firecrackers. There was no way his wife had just been killed. He was too calm."

"But it doesn't matter because the official version becomes _the_ version in a case like this. My point is that you don't have to worry about being made a scapegoat by the Resident's Council or Mr. Loeffler. I spoke with them. Your job is safe."

"Thanks John."

"Okay." He said. "No problem. It's the nature of the business, one day you're a hero, saving a man's finger, the next day you're a villain. You'll be alright if you don't let either one go to your head."

"John, this guy, David Telano. I know him. He's an old friend of mine." I said. "And he's Freddie Divos' nephew."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I said. "Huge coincidence right?"

"That you know him?"

"No, that he's Freddie's nephew. David worked at his Motel too."

"Did you tell the detectives?"

"Yeah, of course." I said.

"And you told them about the pinky?"

"Yeah." I said. "They wanted to know all about it."

"Then we'll just see how it plays out. Maybe there's more to it than there seems." He looked at his watch. "In the mean time just keep doing your job and don't get distracted by all this. You're a good agent Ben." He gave my shoulder a pat like he felt sorry for me.

I thanked him again and stood there while he walked back to the guardhouse. On a tree next to me was a picture of Becky Pierson and underneath her picture it said 'We will never forget you' and had the years of her birth and death.

# FOUR

As I drove Jessie to work the next day, a report came on the radio about the ongoing hunt for David Telano. I turned it off. The local news media seemed to be loving the whole mess, and their barely hidden glee was getting on my nerves.

Jessie worked at a place called The Parley Family Prehistoric Fun Park, or the PFPFP as its employees called it. It's on Route 163, which goes through Shoreston and past Lakeview, and all the private boat slips. Anyone who wanted to have access to Lake Erie on that side of Sandusky Bay, had to take Route 163 and drive by the PFPFP, which was hard to miss with it's three large dinosaurs looking out over the road. They had a T-Rex guarding the entrance to their gravel parking lot, and a Triceratops and a Brontosaurus on either side of the gift shop.

Behind the gift shop was the covered picnic area, and the Prehistoric Fun Park Tour, a paved walkway that wound around the hill, through various huts that held animatronic dinosaur displays. Each hut had it's own sound effects, and painted backgrounds and lighting. The displays were progressively more and more elaborate, and the last one was very loud, and featured two T-rexes in a fierce battle. The mechanical T-rexes only had three moves that they repeated endlessly, but the background sky had been painted with gloomy clouds, and the sound effects and strobe lights simulated a thunderstorm. It was the grand finale. On the way back to the picnic area, tour groups went through a walkway, enclosed in chain-link fence, through the chimpanzee habitat. This was what elevated the tour above the level of a cheap roadside rip-off. There were four live chimps, and their habitat was larger than what they would've had at the Cleveland Zoo. It was full of plants and trees.

The chimps were probably the only reason the PFPFP was still in business. Most of the roadside attractions closed down after The Summertime Splash Zone water park and Put-Put Petey's Minigolf Madness were bought by an investment group that turned them into one park. They'd also bought the adjacent lot and put in a roller coaster and a go-cart track. They renamed it Megapark! -exclamation point and all. Even with Six Flags Cedar Point so close they seemed to do good business and were crowded most of the time. Megapark! wasn't a destination, but it sucked up a lot of the spur-of-the-moment entertainment dollars around Shoreston and Lakeview. With something like that up the road, not so many people wanted to eat lunch in a giant crab anymore, or go to the Monsters of Lake Erie museum, with it's bumpy slide that went down the tail of a Loch-Ness-like creature called Bessie. But for some reason Dinosaurs and chimps were still a winning combination, and the PFPFP was the lone survivor four years after Megapark! opened.

Jessie started working there as a summer job after her senior year of high school, and had accidentally stayed for six years. She was the only year-round employee, and Mr. Parley trusted her to run the place most of the time. He would only come in when something needed to be fixed, or if he was doing inventory or taking a deposit to the bank. He often told Jessie that if he didn't have her he would've closed the place.

After I dropped her off I stopped at a gas station for a coffee before going into work. I thought that the murder-hysteria in Lakeview would've settled down after the prayer meeting and procession on Thursday, but it only seemed to have gained in intensity. There were memorial flyers posted on every available surface, and the schedule of events on the meeting house bulletin board showed a week full of memorials, discussions, support meetings, and grief councilors who were brought in from Cleveland to 'help the children of Lakeview during this difficult time'. The annual miniboat regatta had been cancelled and replaced with a candlelight vigil and moment of silence. I wondered what it was about death that made people want to congregate with candles.

When I got to the guardhouse for my shift John was waiting for me. "George Loeffler wants to talk to you." He said. "Don't go anywhere, he'll be here in a minute."

"What does he want to talk about?" I asked.

"Gee Ben, I'm guessing it's about the murder." He said.

George Loeffler came riding up to the guardhouse in one of the golf carts. He usually wore a suit, but that day he had on a light sweater and khakis. He looked uncomfortable in casual clothes the way most people look uncomfortable when they dress up. He pulled up to the side door and gave me a weak smile. "Hop in Mr. Perkins." He said. "We'll take a ride."

"Have you heard how Junior's doing?" I asked as I got in the cart.

"He's doing as well as can be expected for a man who's putting his wife in the ground day after tomorrow. He's recovering down at his place in Everett. He's not ready to come back to Lakeview."

"But his health is okay?"

"Yes, yes. He should be fine." He turned toward the lake on Noah Avenue and drove a few blocks before he spoke again. "I'll tell you straight," he said, "the Resident's Council wanted you out. They said that you couldn't be trusted because you didn't see that Junior was in distress when you came to check on him after the noise complaint, and because you didn't stop David Telano at the gate -as if it were your fault that the side gate isn't secure. I just wanted you to know that I don't give much credence to all that. I assume that if there had been some sign that Junior was in danger, you would've picked up on it."

"Yes sir." I said. "He seemed absolutely fine."

"The way I see it you're one of our own, and we don't hang one of our own out to dry just because they make a mistake." He made a right turn on Lakeshore Blvd. "The bottom line is that I think you caught some bad breaks that night. That's all. I told them I didn't want you fired over it, and that if John Marchin still believed in you that that was good enough for me."

"Thank you sir. I really-"

"But," he interrupted, "a new fact has come to my attention that has made me question whether or not I was right to defend you." He parked in front of Junior Pierson's house and got out of the cart. "Come with me." He said. I got out and followed him up to the porch. He unlocked the front door and held it open for me.

"What are we doing here?" I asked as I walked into the entryway.

"I just want you to see something, that's all." He said. I followed him through the kitchen and watched him open the door to the garage. "Come in here for a moment." I followed him. "You see this stain on the ground?" There was a dark brown smear on the concrete. "That's where Junior lay bleeding until Miss Ravhandies found him."

I put on my most solemn expression and looked him in the eye. "I can't imagine what he must've gone through." I said. "It must've been horrendous."

He nodded. "Yes." He said.

"Sir, what is this about? You said there was some reason you thought you were wrong to defend me?"

"It has recently come to my attention that you were friends with David Telano growing up."

"That's true." I said. He stared at me for a moment. "We lived on the same street. I was the one who told the detectives who he was. When they blew up the security camera picture I recognized him."

"I bet the detectives had some questions about your relationship with him."

"Yeah of course" I said.

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told them that I had no idea where he was and that we hadn't been close for years." I shook my head. "Shoreston is a small town sir, it's not even a coincidence if you really look at it. I mean, take any two people in town and I bet you could find a connection between them without even having to look too hard."

"I suppose you're right." He said. "Come on."

I followed him through the living room and watched him start up the stairs. "I don't want to go up there." I said.

He stopped and turned around. "I don't care whether you want to or not. I saved your job, and I can un-save it. If we're going to keep you on as an agent I need to settle something in my own mind, and this is the only way I know how to do it. So are you coming or not?"

I considered quitting right then and there. I never had a job that I couldn't walk away from at any moment, and this one was no exception, but there was something about the old man that made me want to go up the steps. It was like I was part of his family or something. He seemed to want to protect me. I followed him through a door at the top of the stairs.

"This is where Becky Pierson was shot to death by David Telano." He said. There was a brown splatter on the wall and a thick layer of dried blood on the carpet. The room had a strange smell, like when rain hits the sidewalk on a hot day. The sight and smell of the gore turned my stomach. I looked at Mr. Loeffler and he looked back at me searchingly. "I need you to tell me the god's honest truth." He said. "Do you know anything about this that you haven't told the police? I want you to swear to me son, because I have to know. This isn't a game -a woman is dead. If you have something to say, now is the time to say it."

"I told the police everything I know." I said, trying to keep my eyes off of the blood. "I swear."

He continued looking at me in silence for a long time. "Good." He said. "Let's go, I'll take you back to the guardhouse." I followed him out of the room and down the steps.

"It's so awful." I said, getting into the golf cart. "That a person can just be gone like that. Last year around Christmas I remember she brought gingerbread cookies to the guardhouse. I talked to her for a while. She was nice."

"Do you go to church son?" He asked as we pulled away from the house.

"Yes I do." I said. The last time I'd been to church was when my cousin had gotten married three years before.

"Are you a Methodist?"

"Episcopalian."

"Well if you're at all interested I want you to know that our services are open to anyone who lives _or works_ here. Nothing would make me happier than to see a young man such as yourself take an interest in our church. You could even bring your lady friend, uh, John's granddaughter. You could make a day of it."

"Well I might just do that." I said. I'd been invited to church exactly five hundred and sixty seven times since I started working in Lakeview, and 'I might just do that' was my standard response. It seemed to work a lot better than 'fuck no.'

"There's not a lot of chance for advancement in your job." He said. "Agent is top of the heap until John retires. I know a lot of our guards want to work in law enforcement, but you don't do you?"

"No, not particularly."

"Doesn't interest you eh?"

"Not really. There's a show on TV, I'm sure you've seen it or heard of it. It's called Cops. That show would put anyone off of being a policeman. I mean, it just seems like they have to break up drunken family squabbles all the time. I don't think I have the patience for it."

"Alright." He said. "I just brought it up because I have some pull over at the prison complex in Port Sound. They're always looking for guards there. The pay is better, and you get full medical coverage right away." He looked at me and waited.

"Uh, that's nice Mr. Loeffler, really. It's just that I don't think I'd be cut out for that kind of work. I can handle these kids around here, and the occasional irate tourist, but I don't know about dealing with real criminals."

"Well, that's what the training is for!" He said. "Just think about it. I could get you in there, no problem." We were pulling up to the guardhouse. "Before you get to work there was one other thing." He said. "I was hoping you could tell me if the police contact you again. I'd like to know what questions they ask."

I looked at him for a moment. "Sure, I could do that." I said. "Any particular reason why?"

"Well Ben, sometimes when the police have a case like this, you know, killer at large and a lot of media attention, they start to look at the people involved as potential suspects. I just want to know if they ask you anything that might make you believe they were trying to pin something on poor Junior. Whenever there's a murder, the spouse is suspect number one, especially if the real killer is out of sight. The police are looking pretty foolish now, you understand. They might start grasping at straws."

"Alright." I said. "I'll let you know."

He smiled at me. "You think about making it to one of our services alright?"

"I sure will." I said getting out of the cart. I watched him drive off.

# FIVE

"Tonight, on America's Most Wanted, we bring you the heart-wrenching tale of David Telano, a cold-blooded killer who rocked the quiet, gated community of Lakeview Ohio. This story is one of the most disturbing crimes on record, and we need your help to bring this scumbag to justice. I'm John Walsh, and to date your tips have helped us capture eight hundred and twenty seven fugitives from the law." Jessie took a bong hit during the opening credits and handed it to me. I reloaded the bowl and took another hit myself.

"On Wednesday night, officers from the Shoreston county police department were called to the small Methodist community of Lakeview, Ohio, to the home of Harold Pierson Junior, son of one of the founding fathers of this gated suburban enclave. When they arrived they found Mr. Pierson struggling for his life with bullet wounds to the shoulder and stomach, and his wife, Becky Pierson, dead in an upstairs bedroom, with two gunshot wounds to the head. This photo shows the conscienceless killer making his getaway in Mr. Pierson's car. He has been identified as David Telano.

"While Mr. Pierson was fighting for his life at the Cleveland Trauma Center, police were searching David Telano's apartment, looking for clues to where he might run in his bid to escape justice. What they found was evidence that David Telano had murdered before."

They showed the male detective who had been at Junior's house along with Reyes. The label at the bottom of the screen identified him as Detective Mike Borgano. He spoke: "In searching David Telano's apartment we found a camera belonging to a woman named Amanda Porgett among his possessions. There were photographs of Ms. Porgett and her friends on the camera's memory card. Ms. Porgett was murdered on June 26th and this camera was one of the items missing from her home. The only physical evidence in that case were cigarette butts found outside Ms. Porgett's house, which happen to be the same brand smoked by David Telano. Our lab is testing the cigarette butts for any DNA."

"They're saying he killed someone else now? He's so fucked." I said.

"I know." Jessie said. "Once you're on America's Most Wanted, it's just a matter of time."

John Walsh continued, "Our crew has produced this recreation of the events of Wednesday night. Watch carefully, as any detail might provide the clues necessary to crack the case."

They showed a guy at a kitchen sink, doing dishes, who was supposed to be Junior Pierson. The voice-over began. "It was an average weeknight in the quiet community of Lakview Ohio. Harold Pierson Junior was home alone, while his wife and daughter from a previous marriage were at the movie theatre just down the street from their lakefront home. He was finishing the dishes when he heard a knock at the door." When he opened the door a big Mexican guy dressed like a gangster shoved his way in and held a knife to the guy's throat. "Where's the safe _essay_? Take me to the safe." He delivered the lines in a heavy Mexican accent while menacing synthesizer music played. They went into the upstairs bedroom and the man pulled a safe out from underneath the bed. The gangster stood behind him with the knife. "Open it." He said. Inside the safe was a wad of money and a handgun. The gangster's eyes widened as he picked up the gun.

Next they showed a woman and a girl sitting in a dark movie house. "I'm getting a migraine, I need my pills." The woman whispered to the girl. "I'm going to run home a minute." Back at the house, actor-David and actor-Junior were going through a box of jewelry in the bedroom when they heard her calling for her husband. The guy playing David held a finger up to his lips, and pushed Junior into a corner. The door opened and as soon as she was in the room, actor-David shot her twice in the head. Junior screamed, and David hit him across the face with the butt of the gun. "Shut up old man." He said. "And gimme your keys, I'm takin' your car. Cooperate and I might let you live, _homes_." Holding the gun to the back of his head, David led him downstairs into the garage. After giving him the keys, actor-Junior got down on his knees and started begging. Gangster-actor-David just laughed, but his laugh was cut short when the doorbell rang.

"I knocked." I said.

David stood the man up and put the gun to his head. He led him back into the kitchen and stood flat against the refrigerator. "Get rid of him." He said. "I could shoot you from here easy. Any funny stuff, and I'll kill you _and_ Mr. rent-a-cop."

The actor playing Junior walked to the door nervously. He opened it on a fat man in a wrinkled uniform with his hat pushed back on his head. His mouth hung slightly open.

Jessie laughed. "That's you!" She squealed "Oh man! They got you perfect."

"We had a noise complaint sir." Fake me said. "Is everything alright? Someone said they heard gunfire."

The guy playing Junior raised his eyebrows meaningfully and darted his eyes back and forth towards the kitchen. "No." He said, too loud and even. "Everything's fine. It was probably just some kids." Again the camera showed his face communicating panic to the guy who was supposed to be me.

"That's what I figured." The fake me said without any comprehension. "I'll keep a lookout for those kids." Actor-Junior gave one more terrified look as he closed the door.

"THIS IS SUCH BULLSHIT!" I screamed. "He never did anything like that! How can they just make shit up? It's ridiculous!"

"Shhh. I can't hear." Jessie said.

Gangster-David pulled fake-Junior back into the garage and made him kneel down. Fake-Junior was crying and begging for his life again when gangster-David shot him twice, wiped the handle of the gun with his shirt, threw it down and took off in the black Mercedes. "Police believe that David Telano is headed west toward California," John Walsh said, "and may have switched cars to avoid detection. If you have any information on the whereabouts of David Telano, or any information regarding this case, our operators are standing by to take your calls and remember, you can remain anonymous."

"Their timeline is fucked up." I said. "It was like two hours between the noise complaints, the way they staged it I would've heard the second gunshots as I was walking away. I'd have run back and checked on him. And I swear to Christ he wasn't making any weird faces at me."

"You said he wasn't wearing a shirt when he came to the door." Jessie said. "They couldn't explain that one so they just left it out."

The TV was blaring a commercial for a vibrating razor with five blades, so I put it on mute. "I'm starting to think you're right, there's something fucked up about this. I mean, David's no Rhodes scholar, but he wouldn't kill someone just to take their car. He could go to the mall and steal a car without any violence. He knows how to crack a steering column."

"Yeah, and why did he shoot Mrs. Pierson in the head, but only shoot Junior in the stomach and shoulder. If he was trying to kill him, wouldn't he shoot him in the head too? And why leave the gun? That makes no sense. Steal the car, and leave the gun? It's fuckin' obvious what really happened. Mr. Pierson shot his wife, and is trying to pin it on David. After David left, he probably shot himself in the stomach and shoulder to avert suspicion. He's the real killer -Mr. Pierson. You should tell that cop, what's-her-name uh, Reyes. You should tell her that Junior Pierson probably did it."

"Yeah, but why was David there?" I asked. "And what about the dead woman whose camera he had, the Porgett lady? That a coincidence too?"

She reloaded the bong and was holding it as she answered. "Maybe so. He used to get stolen electronics and stuff all the time. It could very well be a coincidence." She held a lighter to the bowl and sucked.

"Nah," I said, "it's too much. He's involved somehow. I mean, you're probably right and Junior's trying to frame him, but you gotta figure he knows something about it, or he was involved in some shady deal that went bad. Anyway, it doesn't matter, he's fucked now, he's probably going to death row." I thought about it for a second. "Stupid ass David trying to run to California, thinking he can start his life over again in LA or something. He was always so unrealistic. He's probably even enjoying it on some level."

Jessie handed me the bong and I finished the bowl she'd started. "You're right about the coincidences." She said. "What if we assume there are absolutely no coincidences involved here, then it gets really interesting, because then you have to wonder why the night before all this shit went down, David's uncle had his pinky chopped off, right? That's a pretty big coincidence too."

"Yeah I've been thinking about that since day one." I said. "But the cops know everything we know, so we don't have to go all Matlock on it."

"Are you going to the library tomorrow?"

"Yeah." I said. "I wanna check my email." We had an old computer but no internet connection, so I checked my email once a week at the library.

"Would you do me a favor and Google Amanda Porgett? See if you can find out what happened to her."

"You trying to crack the case, Nancy Drew?"

"Come on, just out of curiosity. Google Amanda Porgett. See if she has any connection to David," she said, "or to people David has a connection to, like Freddie Divos. Maybe she worked in one of his hotels and had some dirt on him, you never know. Just see what you can find out."

"You need a little more faith in law enforcement." I said. "Detective Reyes didn't look stupid. I'm sure if there's a connection, she already found it."

"Just print up anything interesting okay? David's lawyer might need it for his defense." She shook her head. "I can't believe David was on America's Most Wanted."

"I just want to know why they got a fat guy to play me. I mean I know I'm not skinny, but _come on_. Did you see that guy?"

# SIX

There were lots of hits for Amanda Porgett on Google. She was a journalist and had uncovered the Shoreston Aquarium's criminal neglect of Giggles, a dolphin that had died. Her story made national headlines, and was the largest scandal that Shoreston had seen in years. They'd said it was cancer, but she'd found no evidence of any treatment for cancer, and no record of any autopsy being done. She also had an informant inside the Aquarium who had documented Giggle's sad decline. The Aquarium's executive director and veterinarian both did time for cruelty to animals and criminal negligence.

There was a picture of her at an awards dinner in Cleveland, where she'd received a glass obelisk for her work on the story. She was wearing an ill-fitting black dress with rhinestones, and her brown hair was pulled up into a loose bun with two chopsticks sticking out of it awkwardly. There were also two articles about her murder, and a long obituary in the paper she wrote for, The Shoreston Crier. I printed it all out at ten cents a page for a total cost of two dollars and twenty cents.

I'd been home from the library for an hour or so when Jessie called. "They shot him." She said. "He's dead."

"What?"

"David. They got him outside of Reno sometime early this morning." She said. "They thought he had a gun so the cops shot him."

"Are you sure? Where'd you hear that?"

"My mom saw it on the America's Most Wanted web site. Leave it to my mom to be the bearer of bad news. What'd they have to kill him for? He's just a big dope. That fucking rich asshole is going to get away with murder now, David can't defend himself. He's dead." I could tell she was crying.

"I can't believe it-"

"I gotta go," she said, "some people just came in." I hung up and flipped on the TV, thinking the news channels might be reporting it, but it didn't even make the crawl. I watched all the way through a cycle and when they started repeating stories, I turned it off. I rested my head on the arm of the couch and put my feet up. My friend was dead and I had a sink full of dirty dishes.

My sleep was interrupted by the telephone a while later. I looked at it, thinking it was probably Jessie, but I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID so I let the machine pick up. Whoever it was didn't leave a message. I felt uneasy from a dream I couldn't quite remember, so I decided to stay awake. I watched TV for awhile and went to the supermarket and got dinner before going to pick up Jessie from work.

After we ate I showed her the papers I'd printed at the library. "Maybe it had something to do with Giggles the dolphin." She said after studying a couple of pages.

"How so?" I asked.

"I dunno, maybe there's some connection between the aquarium's executive director and Junior Pierson. Amanda Porgett might've been on to some shady deal between them. He might've killed her to keep her quiet."

"Yeah, but there's no money in mistreating a dolphin. It's just cruelty."

"Did you look up Junior Pierson too?" She asked. "I don't see any papers about him."

"You told me to look up Amanda Porgett, not Junior Pierson." I said. "I did exactly what you asked me to do."

"I wanted you to see if there was a _connection_ between them. How would you do that just looking up one of them?"

"You wanted a connection between her and _David_. And what difference does it make? David's dead." I was going to continue but the phone was ringing. I picked it up and hit the button without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Man, am I glad you picked up."

It took a second for the voice to register in my head. "David? Is that you?" I asked. Jessie rushed over, putting her head near the phone so she could hear. "You're supposed to be dead."

"No it was Rico. It was Rico in the car." David said.

"Baby Rico?" I asked. "How?"

"I gave him the car. I owed him some money, and I knew he'd take the car and try to go see his girl in Oakland, I figured it would draw the cops offa me and get rid of the car you know? I thought it was a win win."

"Fuck." I said.

"I know. I figured the worst that could happen was he'd get thrown in jail for a couple of days till they figured out who he was. At most he'd get what? Receiving stolen property? That wouldn't have been a big deal." David said.

"They still think it was you." I said.

"I know, and I hope they go on thinking that, it gives me time." He said.

"Time for what?"

"To figure a way out of this." He said. "I'm one of America's Most Wanted now. I'm fuckin' meat. This whole shit is a set up, I didn't do none of it."

"Okay, so what happened?" I asked. "You stole the guy's car, you have to admit that. And you had that other lady's camera in your room."

"That's my uncle Freddie man, he fucked me." David said. "He's behind the whole thing. He gave me her credit card too. I guess he thought I'd be stupid enough to go out and use it without doing any research. I always google the names on the credit cards for this very reason. I wasn't going to use it after I found out she'd been shot in the head. I tried to be cool about it and ask Freddie where the card come from, and he says a guy named Steve Stetson got it for him. Right then I knew he was trying to set me up. He gives me the guy's first and last name."

"It's a fake sounding name too." I pointed out.

"Yeah imagine me in a police questioning room saying the card came from Steve Stetson. Sounds fake as hell. Freddie's a fucking lowlife man, my own uncle, trying to set me up for a murder."

"So you chopped off his finger?"

"It wasn't revenge." He said. "I had to know who really killed her man, that information could've kept me out of jail. I finally convinced him to tell me the truth."

"You can be real convincing."

"Yeah but they reconnected that shit. I guess I shoulda threw it in the lake. He told me it was Junior Pierson. I shoulda went to the cops, but the guy's rich so I thought I could get paid. I called the dickhead and told him that not only was I _not_ going to be his punk, but that I'd go to the police and the media with what I knew if he didn't pay me. I told him that for starters I was gong to take his car. That fuckin' guy was getting off easy."

"So what happened? How'd his wife end up dead?" I asked.

"How should I know? I never saw her. First I heard of it was when you told me. Now I'm set up for two murders instead of one. Thank god you called me when you did or I'd be in jail right now."

"Did you shoot Junior?" I asked.

"Hell no. I didn't even see any fucking gun while I was there, and I don't carry one, even when I'm working. My uncle must've shot him. Or else he shot himself, I don't know. You gotta help me man, I'm fucked." He said. "You believe me right?"

"Yeah. I believe you," I said, "and Jessie didn't buy any of it from the get-go.""She's a cool girl Ben, you should hang onto that one. I don't know how much longer I can stay out of sight. Can you do something for me?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"I need something against my uncle or that Junior fuck. It has to be solid too. I didn't do anything, but right now I have no way to prove it, it's just my word against theirs."

"Why would your uncle do this to you?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he thought I knew too much about his business." He said.

"Hotels?"

"Oh man, come on." He said. "It's a money laundering operation. He takes a tiny little percentage, which actually winds up being a lot with all the money that goes through there."

"Where's the money come from?" I asked.

"Drugs." He said. "I mean I think it's drugs. The amount of cash that comes in, it has to be. I can't imagine what else."

"You don't know for sure?"

"No, I was just basically a bodyguard. I sat in the car with my uncle while he drove money around. That's it."

"Where'd he pick up the money?" I asked.

"Safe deposit box at the bank on Fourth Street, -PG Financial."

"You ever hear of Amanda Porgett or Junior Pierson before all this?" I asked.

"No." He said. "And now I'm supposed to have killed the both of 'em, and for what? A little money? A camera? A car? I don't need to kill someone to get a car. But all those arrows are pointing to me. And the cops are out to kill my ass, look what they did to Baby Rico." There was a strange gurgling sound on the other end.

"What's the matter?"

"I got my little cousin killed man." He was taking ragged breaths and sniffing. "I fucking deserve to go to jail for that shit. I should just turn myself in."

"No." Jessie said taking the phone from me. "It's not your fault David, we're gonna figure this out. It's not the end of the world okay?"

"Yeah." He said barely audibly. "Thanks Jess."

"David," I took the phone back from her, "just stay hidden alright? We'll see what we can do."

"I'm at the-"

"Don't tell me where you are." I interrupted. "I don't want to know. Just call back in a couple of days. And don't forget that it's not just the cops after you. I hope you're not somewhere your uncle knows about."

"You think I'm stupid?" He said. "I'm invisible here, don't worry."

"Alright, just stay that way. The cops are gonna figure out who they shot pretty soon. When that happens they'll be looking for you again."

"I know." He said. "I'll be careful. Thanks Ben. Thanks man. And tell Jessie too."

# SEVEN

Jessie was pissed that I hadn't told her I'd called David on the night of the shooting. She wanted to know how he sounded and what he'd said. Everything I told her seemed to confirm her belief that he was innocent. "Maybe Junior Pierson is a drug dealer." Jessie said. "And Amanda Porgett was going to expose him."

"What about his wife?" I asked.

"Who knows?" She said. "Married people kill each other all the time for all sorts of reasons. When you get married your chances of being murdered go up three hundred percent."

"I doubt Junior Pierson's a dealer." I said. "He might be mixed up with a dealer or something, but he's definitely not the type that would be dealing drugs himself. He's super religious and he does all that charity work. Haven't you heard of the Pierson Foundation? His father started it."

"Well how's he make his money?" She asked.

"It's family money." I said. "And investments and stuff. He's not a nine-to-fiver, he was born rich, that's all." The TV was distracting me so I put it on mute. "Listen if we're gonna figure shit out, we'd better start with Freddie Divos. You heard David, he said Freddie set him up. Freddie Divos knows the whole thing, he's our key."

"What are you gonna do, beat it out of him? Cut off another one of his fingers?"

"No, but I can keep an eye on him." I said. "Maybe he'll do something that will give him away and I can tell the cops."

"Yeah and maybe he won't." She said. "How are you going to watch his place when you're supposed to be working?"

"I'll keep my ears open and maybe we'll get lucky." I said.

"Oh great, I'll call David and tell him his troubles are over." She said.

"Well what do you think we should do?"

"Research." She said. "There's got to be a ton of stuff in the public record about the Pierson family. I'll look for anything that connects Junior to Amanda Porgett. You should focus on trying to find out why Junior wanted to kill his wife. Don't go around asking a lot of questions or anything, but see if there's any rumors. And maybe look for stuff in the old call books at the guardhouse. Noise complaints, domestic disputes, that kind of thing."

The next morning she left the house early to do research on the computers at the library. Monday's were a day off work for both of us. I stayed in bed until ten thirty when hunger got me up. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on toast with my coffee. I got out of the shower feeling refreshed and drank more coffee sitting in the living room, flipping through the Cleveland Scene free newspaper.

It was after one o-clock when Jessie got home. She was in an excited state, which probably seemed exaggerated to me because I was feeling mellow. "There's a connection." She said, slapping a stack of papers on the table. "A big one. Check it out, just two weeks before she was killed, Amanda Porgett wrote a story about a place in Port Sound called Extended Families. It's a place for kids waiting to be put in foster care or adopted. Guess who funds it?"

"Junior Pierson?"

"Bingo. The Pierson Foundation. The article is about how Extended Families only wants little white girls. Apparently they're the easiest to find homes for and the staff is trying to boost their numbers by hardly taking any blacks or latinos. It was supposed to be a series of articles, which is probably why they killed her. She was going to expose what a fucked up place it is. She was going to interfere with their business. You _know_ there's tons of money to be made off adoptions, and Extended Families even gets money from the state. There might be some sort of government corruption scandal here."

"Wow." I said.

"Yeah, and that's not all. Guess who owns PG Financial?"

"Junior Pierson?"

"Yep." She said. "He's the chairman of the board of directors."

"So what's that mean?" I asked

"I don't know but it's a connection." She said. "He owns all kinds of stuff around here. He owns a majority share in Megapark!"

"Really?"

"Yep, and that's not all. They own lots of shit." She nodded to the stack of papers on the table. "There's a list in there." She pulled a bag of weed from her makeup case and opened it, taking a clump out and putting it on my newspaper. She started breaking it up to roll a joint. "We're almost out." She said as she prepared her rolling paper. "We have to call Jack."

"It seems like we just got that."

"It goes quick." She said. She rolled the sticky buds back and forth in the paper, and stopped for a moment to put a couple of crumbs that had fallen back into the joint. She licked the edge and completed the final roll. Her joints are always perfect.

"It's not good joint-weed." I said. "It's still kinda damp. It doesn't burn right in a joint."

"Yeah." She agreed, passing a lighter beneath it to dry out her saliva, "It wants to be smoked in a bong, but I don't feel like changing the water. Besides, I miss joints when I use the bong all the time."

"Because it's more like smoking a cigarette that way." I said. "You miss smoking Marlboros, not joints."

"Yeah, you're right. I'd loooove to smoke just one Marlboro Light -on a cold morning with a big cup of coffee. Just me, all alone, sitting at the kitchen table with strong coffee and a cigarette. That would be heaven." She lit the joint and inhaled, passing it to me. I took a hit and handed it back.

"You'd look cute bald." I said.

"Okay random."

"I'm just saying you lose your hair when they give you chemo. You don't seem like a wig type to me. Maybe a scarf..." While she was hitting the joint there was a loud knock at the door.

She put out the joint and I slid the ashtray under the sofa while she put the bag of weed back in her makeup case. "Clean up the table." I said, pointing to the newspaper with the weed crumbs on it. I went into the kitchen and got the Lysol, and came back spraying liberally as I went. I could see the shadow of a man trying to peer in the window. " _Just a minute_." I called out.

"Relax. It's probably just my mom." Jessie said.

"No it's not, unbutton your shirt." I whispered.

"Huh?"

"Just do it." I said. "And be buttoning it up so they can see. They'll think we were fucking."

"Who?" She asked fiddling with her top button.

"The cops." I said. I set down the Lysol and went to the door. I pulled the curtain back and saw detectives Reyes and Borgano. I took a deep breath before I opened the door. "Hi." I said, too friendly for the occasion.

"Mr. Perkins, do you mind if we come in for a moment to have a word with you?" Detective Borgano asked. He didn't wait for a response before pushing past me into our living room. Jessie stood up and began re-buttoning her shirt. She looked just flustered enough and I was glad to be working with such a pro. Borgano surveyed the room and took a couple of sniffs. Detective Reyes walked in and stood beside her partner. I shut the door.

"What am I smelling?" She asked. "Is that Lysol?" She turned her head to watch me as I walked into the room.

"Yeah." I said. "We got a mold problem. The smell drives us nuts. This is my girlfriend Jessica Carrick. Jessie, detective Reyes and detective Borgano."

She shook hands with Reyes first and then Borgano. "I saw you on TV." She said. There was an awkward silence where Jessie was supposed to say 'you looked good' or 'nice work' or something, but she let the silence ride. If I wasn't having an internal freak out I would've thought it was funny.

"This won't take long Mr. Perkins." Reyes said. "We only have one question we'd like to ask you, and I want you to consider the consequences of your answer. An untruthful answer could mean criminal charges." She let that sink in, while I did my best to look perplexed. "Where is David Telano?" She asked.

"I don't know." I answered truthfully. They both looked at me. "I guess he's in a morgue somewhere in Reno."

"Keep playing dumb." Borgano said. "See how far that gets you."

"The police in Reno shot Ricardo Tajara, David's cousin." Reyes said.

"Wow." I said. "That's... surprising." I felt intensely self-conscious and didn't know what to do with my hands. I folded my arms and then unfolded them too quickly while they watched. I was starting to fray around the edges so I looked at Jessie. She had her eyebrows raised at me. I turned back to the cops who stood there mutely staring at me. "We always used to call him Baby Rico." I said. "He hated it, but that was how everyone knew him. That family has three Ricos and he was the youngest."

"Fascinating." Borgano said. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" Without waiting to hear the answer he walked into the kitchen and I could hear the door to the basement opening.

"The bathroom's down the hall over here." Jessie said.

"What's down here, is this the basement?" He asked as we heard his steps descending the stairs.

Jessie walked into the kitchen with Reyes and me following. She stopped and turned to Reyes. "I guess he's supposed to be the bad cop." She said.

"We're both the bad cop." Reyes answered.

Borgano came up from the basement and shrugged. "Big place you got here." He said. "You rent?"

"Have a look around why don't you." Jessie said.

He walked past her into the living room. "No, just looking for the toilet." He said. "Down the hall right?" Jessie and I trailed after him as he walked past the bathroom and into the bedroom. He opened our closet door, and then turned and shrugged again. "I must've passed it." He walked back into the hall and stuck his head in the bathroom. "Funny." He said, standing in our bathroom's doorway. "I don't have to go anymore."

I finally found my voice. "He's not here." I said. "And I don't know why in hell you'd think he was."

"Because you didn't tell us about your history with David." He said.

"Yes I did." I said. "I told you he was a friend of mine. I told you that."

"You just forgot to mention that you used to be his partner in crime."

"What?"

"You and David Telano were busted together for theft." He said. "And neither one of you would say a word against the other."

"We were just kids back then." I answered. "It was a stupid shoplifting thing. We honestly haven't been close for years. You know how it is with old friends. You lose touch after a while."

"Well you can count on _us_ keeping in touch." He said. "And keeping our eye on you. You told us you didn't know where he is and if we find out that wasn't a true statement you're looking at an obstruction charge, at the very least." We followed him into the living room where Detective Reyes was looking through the papers Jessie had printed at the library. "Apparently this guy doesn't know anything." Borgano said to her. "I guess we should leave him alone."

She smiled and dropped the papers back on the table. "Yeah." She said. "Let's go." Jessie started walking toward them like she was going to tell them off, but I grabbed her hand and held her back. She looked at me and frowned. "We'll be back with more questions at some point." Reyes said. "I left my card on your table. Call me if you hear anything."

I locked the door behind them and then sat on the couch and exhaled. Jessie was still standing there, shaking her head. "Those putrid little fucks!" She hissed. "Those assholes, who do they think they're impressing with that shit? Can you believe that? To just come in here and go stomping around -this is supposed to be America. They can't just do that shit, it's unconstitutional."

"They're the cops, they can do whatever they want." I said.

"Yeah, well." She threw up her hands in exasperation. "You'd probably let them. You're terrible with cops. What was all that shit about Baby Rico?"

"I don't know, I was nervous." I said.

She laughed a little and sat next to me. "I guess I don't ever have to worry about you cheating on me." She said. "You're the worst liar I've ever seen in my life."

# EIGHT

I was driving a golf cart down Lakeshore Blvd when I saw Manny Ayles. I had been making my way to the meetinghouse to check the visitor passes on the cars in the parking lot when I spotted him sitting with Martin on a park bench. Manny was looking over the younger boy's shoulder while he played a small hand held video game device. I turned toward the meetinghouse and was a block away before the idea came to me. I made a u-turn.

Manny was a fourteen-year-old redhead with acne. He was tall and slightly stooped and if you saw him standing on the street you couldn't help but think he was lurking or skulking instead of just standing there. His hair hung down over his eyes and he rarely smiled. I pulled up to the curb and called his name. "What?" he asked, turning away from the pixilated violence.

"C'mere, I want to talk to you." I said. I turned around in the golf cart's seat and put my feet down.

He stood up and ambled in my general direction. "What do you want?" He asked, looking at me with a combination of fear and hatred. It was the same look I'd gotten every time I'd seen him since the day I caught him videotaping Sarah Underhill. He'd set a camera up in the tree across the street from her bedroom, and was up there retrieving it when I spotted him. I figured out what he was doing and told him that according to the Lakeview charter his family could be kicked out for his unethical behavior, and that the Underhills would have to be notified. He begged me not to tell, and swore that he'd never done it before and would never do it again. I made him stomp the videotape to bits, and told him he was lucky it was me that discovered his spy-cam operation. I said I wouldn't tell but that he owed me now. I didn't want to publicly humiliate the kid, but I also didn't want him to think he'd gotten away clean.

"How about a little appreciation from you for not ruining your life first of all." I said.

"Yeah, well I've been thinking, and there's no way you could prove that I did anything." He said. "I could go tell the police I saw _you_ spying on Sarah, then if you said it was really me, you would look like you were lying." He said.

I laughed. "Okay dummy. I was going to give you a chance to even-up, but if you want to play it like that, it's fine with me." I turned and put the cart in drive.

" _Wait_..." He said before I'd started moving. "Okay, yeah, what do you want?" I put the cart back in park.

"Smart move Manny. Now if I let you in on something, can you promise never to breathe a word of it to anyone? I'm serious. Can you keep a secret?"

He gave me a look of suspicious curiosity. "Yeah." He said.

"No seriously." I said. "Swear to me."

"Okay I swear." He said.

"I think Freddie Divos has something to do with what happened to Becky Pierson." I said.

"Freddie Divos? The guy who runs the mobile park?"

"Yeah, the very one." I said. "This guy who's supposed to have done it, David Telano, the guy who was America's Most Wanted -did you know that he's Freddie Divos's nephew?"

He gave me a meaningful look. "No." He said.

"And did you know that on Tuesday, the day before Becky was shot, Freddie Divos had to go to the hospital to have his pinky finger reattached?"

"Oh yeah, I heard about that." He said. "He was chopping carrots right?"

"I'm not so sure." I said. "I mean, think about it. How would you cut your pinky finger off chopping a carrot?" I made chopping motions in the air. "If it had been his thumb I could buy it, but his pinky? How?"

"I don't know." He said. "I didn't think of that."

"Here's the point," I said, "Freddie Divos is involved in some way. I don't know how, but it seems pretty likely given the circumstances."

Manny was nodding with a look of concentration on his face. "Yeah." He said finally. "I guess you could be right."

"Well I want to know what the connection is." I said. "That's where you come in."

"Me?"

"Yeah Manny, you. You seem to have a natural gift for surveillance. I mean just because this gift of yours first manifested itself as a pervy violation of Sarah Underhill's privacy doesn't mean it can't be useful. I can't watch Freddie all the time, I've got to work. And when I'm not working I've got no reason to be hanging around in Lakeview. So I need you to do it."

"Spy on him?"

"Yeah." I said. "Get me some video. I'm not asking you to film the guy taking a shit or anything, I just want to know about his comings and goings. I want to know who comes to visit him, when they leave, if they leave together, what time they get back, that sort of thing. Don't worry about connecting the dots. I'll do that. And Manny, if we come up with something, we can help the police out." I said. "Think about it, John Walsh might even put us on TV. Sarah Underhill's panties would come right off for you after that."

"Would you please shut up about Sarah?" He said. "Seriously, it's getting on my nerves."

"Alright, relax." I said. "Are you in?"

"Yeah." He said. "I can do that."

"Good." I said. "And Manny listen. If anyone finds out about this or catches you, you thought of it all on your own okay? You'll get a stern lecture, but _I_ could lose my job or maybe even get arrested. I'm serious."

"No way." Manny said. "I don't think so. You want to share the credit but not the risk, well that's fucked up. No, we're in it together or it's no deal."

"Okay Manny." I said. "I guess we're in it together then, just please don't get caught." He ran off like he was going to start immediately, and I wondered if I had just made a mistake.

I wrote a couple of parking tickets and then wound up back at the guardhouse. I sat around talking to James for an hour before I took my post at the side-gate, which had been hastily fortified with a wooden barrier so you couldn't drive around it. I dozed in the uncomfortable chair and listened to a radio talk show about nutrition.

When I got home after three in the morning my living room was filled with stale pot smoke and there was a note on the table. Jessie had been at the library doing research all afternoon and had turned up 'something big'. The note said to wake her when I got in, but she didn't want to wake up. I shook her but she just groaned and rolled over, and eventually I quit trying and fell asleep beside her. Sometime later she was shaking me.

"Hey I told you to wake me up when you got in." She said.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "I tried. We can talk in the morning."

"No, come on, I'm up now. Let's talk."

"No, let's sleep instead." I said.

She continued shaking me. "You can sleep all day if you want." She said. "I'll be gone by the time you get up. Just talk to me now."

I took a deep breath and got ready to argue with her about it, but then realized I was awake anyway, so I might as well just hear what she had to say. "Not very considerate." I said, looking at the clock. It was five minutes to five.

"Listen," she said, "that article Amanda Porgett wrote about that Extended Families place in Port Sound? It was supposed to be the first of a series. She died four days before they were going to print the second one, so it never came out. Sounds pretty convenient huh?"

"Yeah, we've been over this." I said. "The place was only taking white babies to boost their numbers, and you think that second article was going to show that maybe they were getting government money."

"Yeah, something like that." She said. "I called the paper and asked when they were going to run the rest of Amanda's series, but the person I talked to said she didn't think it would _ever_ run because Amanda had only finished the one article before her death. I asked if they'd assigned the story to another reporter, and she said they hadn't. So I asked her what the rest of the articles were going to be about, and she said the only person who had that information was Amanda's editor -but that she was unavailable."

"You should be careful." I said. "If we start asking a bunch of questions it might get back to Reyes and Borgano."

"I was going to be cool about it." She said. "But it's useless anyway, because check it out." She got out of bed and ran into the living room. She was wearing an old Grateful Dead T-shirt and gray underwear that clung to her ass appealingly. She came back with photocopies of two of the Shoreston Crier's front pages. She pointed at the staff list. "Look –Editor In Chief: Gretchen Salle, then two days after Amanda's murder, Editor In Chief: Robert Foneto. And look..." She flipped through some of the pages until she got to the obituary page that had Amanda Porgett's memorial. "See? Gretchen Salle was one of the people who eulogized Amanda."

"So? Her boss eulogized her." I said. "What's the big deal?"

"That's not all, look." She flipped to the pages about the awards ceremony for the Giggles article. There were two pictures, one of Amanda with the chopsticks in her hair accepting the award, and another on a different page of Amanda sitting at a table with a man on one side of her and a woman on the other. The man was taking a bite of spaghetti and the woman and Amanda seemed to be laughing about something. The glass obelisk prize Amanda had won was beside her on the table. "Look at the caption." She said. "That's Gretchen Salle."

"Okay, she took her boss to the award dinner with her, what? They were friends." I said.

"You think like a man." She said. "Look at the body language there." She pointed at the picture. "And Gretchen's hair is pretty short don't you think? Pretty butch- and look at Amanda in that dress. She doesn't look too comfortable does she?"

I laughed. "Okay so they've got your gaydar beeping, so what?" I said. "This is what I'm awake at five o-clock in the morning for?"

"We have to talk to this woman." Jessie said. "She can tell us what Amanda was working on. If Amanda had strong enough evidence against Junior Pierson, that could be enough to get David off."

"It still doesn't explain why he would kill his wife." I pointed out as I picked up the phone beside the bed and dialed information. I asked for the number for Gretchen Salle and wrote it down. "We'll call her tomorrow." I said. I put my head down and pulled up the covers. Jessie cursed me and left me alone.

# NINE

A couple of hours later I was dimly aware of the phone ringing, and then Jessie was shaking me. "Wake up." She said. I groaned my annoyance. "It's David, wake up."

I took a deep breath as Jessie handed me the phone. She sat next to me on the bed and listened. "What's going on?" I asked.

"I need to get out of here, I think I'm about to get caught." He said.

"What? Why?"

"There was some guy asking about me at the front desk." He said.

"You're at a hotel?"

"I was." He said.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm at a Denny's in Cleveland. This morning I got a call from the front desk and the lady said there was a guy there who wanted to ask me some questions about my credit card, so I just took off. I bailed out a side door and came here."

"Did you get a look at the guy?" I asked thinking it might've been Borgano.

"No way, I stayed clear of the lobby." He said.

"You were using a stolen credit card?" I asked.

"No," he said, "well, sort of. It's a safe card, it used to belong to a dead guy. You know Mr. Gill who works at the morgue?"

"No." I said.

"Well my uncle hooked me up with him. I bought this guy's ID and credit cards a year ago and I've been using 'em ever since."

"For a year?" I asked. "And they're just now catching up to you?"

"This card is different, I make the payments every month. I called the card company and did an address change to the motor lodge, and I've been paying it off. This dead guy had shitty credit when I started, but now he's up to a two thousand dollar limit because of me." He said.

"Wait a minute," I said, "Were they asking about you, David Telano, or about the guy on the card?"

"I don't know," he said, "I assume they still thought I was Ray. I can't go back there though, and I can't be Ray Denardo anymore either."

"What are you gonna do?" Jessie asked.

"I have no fucking idea." He said. "You don't happen to know of a Unabomber shack in the woods, do you?"

"No man, sorry."

"Well, I'm fucked here." He said. "I got nowhere to go and I got no cash. I know this isn't your problem, but I need help man please. My fucking life depends on it."

"We'll come get you." Jessie said, taking the phone from me. I put my hand up to my face and rubbed my eyes. "You're at the Denny's downtown? The one on Fifth?"

"Yeah." He said. "You really gonna come pick me up? You're not gonna call the cops?"

"The cops?" Jessie said. "We're your friends."

"Ben?"

"No one's calling the cops." I said, taking the phone back. "And hey, go to an ATM and take a cash advance for as much as you can, then ditch that card. Be sure to keep your face covered or block the little camera, just in case they don't know the guy using Ray Denardo's card is you. They could just be investigating a stolen credit card. We should be there in a half hour or so."

"I'll be here." He said.

I hung up the phone and exhaled. "He's not staying here." I said to Jessie. "There's no fucking way. He was on America's Most Wanted. If we put him up, we'll be committing a felony. I'm not going to jail for him. He's not staying here and I'm serious."

"Oh, this isn't half my house too?" She said. "I don't get a say?"

"Well, let me put it another way. If he stays here, I'm moving out. I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he's mostly innocent, but aiding and abetting a fugitive is something I can't get into."

" _Aiding and abetting a fugitive_." She said. "Listen to yourself. Big security agent, with the official cop jargon. We're talking about David here. He's not Bin Laden."

"He's not staying here." I said. "It wouldn't make sense anyway. The cops have already been here once asking questions. They're keeping an eye on us."

"Come on, let's go." She said. "He's waiting."

"I'm not leaving until we know where we're taking him." I said. "If we don't decide now, we'll just end up taking him back here." I grabbed her hands and looked at her. "Listen, Jess, I know you want to help him. It's really great and noble and all, but come on. David only cares about himself," -she shook her head no, but I continued- "he already got his cousin killed over this, you think he'd worry about getting us in trouble with the law? No. He'll take the path of least resistance right over our necks if we let him."

"What about one of the empty places in Lakeveiw?" She asked, perking up. "That would be perfect."

I immediately thought of the Relna place. They were in California and wouldn't be back to Lakeview until the spring. "I don't know." I said.

"Come on, it's perfect." She said. "You could sneak him in and get into one of the empty houses in there. They practically leave the doors wide open."

"Not anymore." I said. "Anyway, if they found him they'd know I helped him get in."

"Not necessarily. After all, he snuck in once before right? He could've done it again, sometimes the best place to hide is right under everyone's nose."

I sighed and got my keys off of the dresser. "Come on." I said. "Let's go transport a fugitive."

David looked ridiculous with blonde hair. It looked like he'd dyed it with bleach in a gas station bathroom. To see him on the street you might think he was a happy-go-lucky gay guy, but only if you didn't notice the deep lines under his eyes, or his tattoos. I sat with him in our living room, while Jessie made us tuna sandwiches in the kitchen. Having him there made me deeply uneasy. I kept thinking I heard someone on the porch. I would've taken him directly to Lakeview but if I'd showed up hours ahead of my shift it would raise questions, so I reluctantly brought him to our house. "Detectives have come here unannounced before." I said. "Just the other day they were here. They were looking for you, and they went through the whole place."

"If they come now I'll just pull my knife and pretend I was holding you hostage or something." He said. "I don't want you to get in trouble for helping me."

"Sounds like a good way to get yourself killed." I said, not thinking of his cousin until the words were already out. I changed the subject. "There's a place that's empty that we can get into in Lakeview. The Relna place. You'll have to stay in the basement, out of sight. It's divided into two rooms, one of which doesn't have any windows, so you should be okay down there. I know where they keep their spare key."

David lit a cigarette and looked at me. "Man, you must be crazy helping me like this." He said. "I was on TV."

"Hey if we don't get caught, it wont make a difference. And if we _do_ get caught, I still have deniability. You just have to say you got in there on your own." He was looking at his shoes.

"I'm gonna turn myself in." He said. "I just need to find some evidence that Freddie did this shit so I can at least go in with a good defense. I'll find some evidence, bring it to a lawyer and then turn myself in."

"You can't be out there looking for evidence." I said. "You have to stay hidden. We're on this okay? We're gonna find something, just stay out of sight and give us time."

"And I don't think its Freddie." Jessie said bringing in a plate of sandwiches. "I think it was all Junior."

"Trust me, Freddie's the one." David said. "I shoulda cut his dick off." He put his cigarette out carefully and put the butt back in his pack. "I seriously doubt you're going to find anything on Junior." He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.

"No," Jessie said, "Junior had a motive to kill Amanda Porgett." She explained to him about the article and the place in Port Sound and the editor. "I called her this morning. I'm still waiting for her to call me back, but I bet she has the next article in the series." She said. "I know we can piece together what's going on from those articles."

"I still feel like it's going to come down to my word against theirs." David said.

"Yeah and their word means a lot." I said. "They own property all over the place, and they own banks and run charities and god knows what else. They're pillars of the goddamned community."

"Pillars are made to fall." Jessie said.

I felt the need to point out that that was not a real expression.

Jessie and David got high together on the last of our weed. I abstained because I had to sneak David into Lakeview later and didn't need the paranoia. I left David at the house and drove Jessie to the PFPFP -she has no problem working high. On my way back I stopped at the grocery store and spent fifty dollars of Ray Denardo's cash advance money on food and toilet paper and stuff for David. He looked through the bag and said that he needed cigarettes too. "You can't smoke down there," I said, "when Phil Relna and his family come back the whole house will stink. Isn't it time to quit anyway?"

"Look man, if I can't smoke, you might as well just turn me in." He said. "No joke. I can smoke in jail."

"That's fucking sad, you know that? Aren't you tired of paying a corporation to kill you a little bit at a time?"

"Yeah but, I'm serious, I'd rather be in jail smoking than hiding out going through withdrawal and shit."

"Come on." I said. "We'll stop on the way."

When we got close to Lakeview David laid on the floor of the backseat with a blanket over him. I knew Franco was working and I prayed he wasn't at the front gate. I was almost at the gate when David started coughing. I slowed down and told him to shut up. I was glad to see John in the gatehouse, he said hi and lifted the gate-arm. I wasn't sure if he'd noticed anything or not.

I pulled up in front of some bushes in the Relna's yard and stopped. "Stick your head up for a second and look." I said. David uncovered his blonde head and looked out the window. "We're right across from the meetinghouse, so this is a busy street. You have to be careful. I'll take the groceries in and unlock the back door. Those bushes right there can cover you from three sides, so when I get back I'll tell you when the coast is clear and you can wait there till I drive away. All you have to do is go in, lock the door behind you, pick up the grocery bag and go straight to the basement."

I got the bag from the back seat and went up to the Relna's back door. I was trying to hurry and look casual at the same time. I put the grocery-bag down and lifted the potted plant where I knew the key would be. I unlocked the door and put the key back. I took the groceries in and set the bag down on the kitchen counter, and then left the house, shutting the unlocked door behind me. I was still on the back porch when I saw Franco in the patrol car stopped across from where I was parked. He had his window down and was looking right at me. I walked self-consciously toward my car. "What are you doing?" He asked. "Why were you in the Relna place?"

"I'm just watering their plants for them while they're out of town." I said. I opened my car door and stood partway behind it. "You gonna give me a parking ticket or something?"

"You can get away with anything. I guess since you're living with the boss's granddaughter you're allowed to take side-jobs."

"It's not a side-job okay? I'm not getting paid to do it, Phil Relna happens to be a friend of mine, and I came early so I wouldn't be doing personal business on GSA time. What's your problem anyway? Before they made me an agent you were all friendly and shit. Now every time I see you, you wanna start shit."

"Come on, the only reason you're an agent is because of John's granddaughter." He said.

"Yeah, so what? That's the way the world works. People look out for their family, and I'm kind of like John's family. Just because your wife's family can't do shit for you, you don't have to take it out on me."

"You're not even married to her."

I laughed. "Mind your own business." I said.

"I might not be an agent, but I'm a professional, I take my job seriously." He said as I got in the car and shut the door. I was going to roll my window down and continue talking to him, but he drove away.

"You should fuck that guy up." David said from under the blanket.

"Yeah." I said. "Maybe someday I will. Don't turn on any lights in the house. Remember, people are walking by here all day and night because it's so close to the meetinghouse, so stay away from the windows."

"Got it." David said.

"Go, now." I said.

He got out of the car and as I drove away, I saw him crouch running up to the back door of the house in my rearview mirror. I had deep reservations about what I had just done. What did David care if Franco now had me connected to his hiding place? It probably didn't even occur to him. It didn't affect him so why would it? All of a sudden it seemed inevitable that I'd get caught.

I parked in the employees lot across from the guardhouse and as I got out of the car my phone was buzzing. It was Jessie.

"She called me back." She said. "Gretchen Salle."

"What'd she say?"

"She agreed to meet us."

"Did you tell her why we wanted to meet with her?" I asked.

"I told her we were old friends of David's and that we didn't think he did it. I told her that we had some questions about Amanda, and her Extended Families articles. When I asked if she would meet us she agreed right away."

"You told her we were friends of David's?"

"What was I supposed to say?" She said. "I mean I had to tell her _something_ and I wasn't going to lie to her."

"No, but you didn't have to tell her that. I mean, she might've gotten off the phone with you and called the cops."

"I doubt it." She said.

"When are we supposed to meet her?"

"Tomorrow morning, at Gouland's Grill." She said. "And don't worry, she sounded cool."

# TEN

Although I hadn't gotten to bed until three thirty, I was expected to be at Gouland's Grill at nine with Jessie to meet Gretchen Salle. A note taped onto the door of the fridge related this information to me. I didn't remember the alarm clock going off, and the first thing I was aware of was Jessie scolding me in advance for making us late. I got out of bed and pulled on a fresh shirt and a pair of pants. She asked if I was going to fix my hair and I pulled on my baseball cap in answer. I got the car keys off the hook, and by the time we were out of the driveway and on the road, I was starting to wake up.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked after we'd rode in silence for a while.

"I'm thinking about what I'm going to tell Reyes and Borgano." I said. "They'll probably be there. I'm sure this woman Gretchen called them. I mean you told her we were meeting with her on behalf of David."

"No, not on behalf. I said I was a friend of his and that I didn't think he did it, that's all." She said. "The cops already know all that. But I doubt she called them, she seemed more curious about me than suspicious."

"It's a fine line." I said.

Gouland's is a popular breakfast place, and was packed with truck drivers and fishermen inhaling plates of pancakes and eggs and downing weak coffee. There was netting arranged on the walls with colorful wooden fish here and there, and a ship's wheel with lights on the pegs hung from the center of the ceiling like a chandelier. It was five after nine and the place was packed with gulping, smoking, slurping, jabbering human beings. We had to wait for a booth to open up, and by the time one did, I was having doubts that she would show.

"I mean if she's not here by now, she probably isn't coming. It's twenty after." I said.

"At least the cops aren't here." She said.

We sat down and ordered coffee. I was looking at the menu when Gretchen came up to our table. She was wearing blue jeans and work boots with a white button-up men's shirt. She wore a baseball cap with the name of a bait shop on it pulled low on her head.

"You Jessie?"

"Yeah." Jessie said.

"Who's he?" She asked nodding toward me.

"Ben, my boyfriend." She said. "He's a friend of David's too."

"And what do you do for a living Ben?" She asked, still not sitting down.

"I'm a security agent over at Lakeview." I said.

She showed surprise quickly followed by anger. "One of the Peirson's hired goons? I should've known this was some kind of bullshit intimidation move." The people in the booth next to us had stopped talking and were listening.

"Hey, no." I said. "I just work there. It's just a job."

"Yeah, well I used to have a job too." She said. "And a friend. Now I don't have either 'cause of your boss. So when you see him and tell him about this little meeting, do me a favor and tell him to fuck off. You tell him _I'm not afraid of him, you, or any of you creeps_." She was getting loud as she spoke, giving the impression that she was, in fact, afraid.

I was shaking my head and holding up my hands in an unthreatening gesture of peace, but she didn't want to hear what I had to say, and she turned and moved quickly toward the front exit of the restaurant. Jessie jumped up and went after her, following her out the front door. Through the big window in Gouland's dining room you could see Jessie stop her in the parking lot. Half the restaurant seemed to be watching the show. I lifted my hat enough to scratch my head and then gave the waitress a sheepish smile as she brought our coffee over.

As Jessie pleaded with the woman she kept looking over at me through the window. I put a creamer in my coffee and stirred it with the mini straw, trying not to stare at the scene. Finally Jessie came back into the restaurant with Gretchen following. They sat across from me, and Gretchen took her hat off. Her hair was military short, and she looked like she hadn't slept in a long time. She set the hat down on the table and leaned over toward me, as if she were going to tell me a secret. "I don't trust you." She said. "You're just another soldier in Junior Pierson's private army as far as I'm concerned."

"It's just a job to me." I said. "I have no loyalty to Junior. Anyway, I'm employed by the Guardian Security Agency, which is under contract with the Lakeview Civic Authority. Junior Pierson isn't even my boss really."

"It's all owned by him and if you don't know that then I don't know why I'm talking to you."

"We need your help." Jessie said. "That's all. I think we can all agree that David is just a fall guy here. Junior Pierson murdered your friend and most likely his own wife too. We can agree on that much, right?"

"Yeah, sure." She said. "If you two are really just a couple of yoyos trying to help your friend, then there _is_ something you can do for me. You can tell me where to find the fucker. David Telano had Amanda's stuff, and he was at Junior's house the night his wife got shot, so he has information. He probably doesn't even know how much he knows. He's gotta be keeping some secrets. You two expect me to believe that you just decided to try to help him out of the blue? That you haven't heard from him? Well that's an obvious lie. I need to talk to him, that's all, I don't want to turn him in."

"I talked to him." I said. "But only once. He called me. We have no idea where he is or how to get in touch with him."

"But you talked to him?"

"Yeah. He told us his uncle had set him up and I believe him. They were into some shady shit together -his uncle was the one who gave him Amanda's stuff."

"Who's his uncle?" She asked.

"Wait," Jessie said, "you have something _we_ want. Let's agree to trade information first. We want to read the articles that Amanda was working on when she was killed. We'll tell you everything we know and can find out, if you let us see those articles."

Gretchen looked at Jessie and smiled. "What do you plan on doing with 'em?"

"Figuring out what the hell is going on for one thing." Jessie said. "And making sure the police know. And if David gets caught, his lawyer will need them."

"The more people who know the truth the better it is for everyone." I said. "If Junior Pierson is a murderer, he should be punished."

"Listen pollyanna, I don't have to tell you dick. I can find out who David Telano's uncle is, easily." She said.

"We could save you the trouble of searching." Jessie said.

"You gonna single handedly take down the Pierson mob, sweetheart? Huh? You and Captain America here? Come on, these people aren't afraid of the law. I would've given Amanda's articles to the cops myself if I thought it would do any good. It won't. The Piersons are smart enough to know they have to give the police a fall guy, and your friend is it. They're not going to bend over backwards to prove a conspiracy when they've got a Mexican with tattoos who's already been convicted on national television." She laughed. "Come on. Are you gonna tell me who David's Uncle is, or do I have to go to the court of records?"

"If you're so sure the police aren't gonna do anything, why do you want information?" I asked. "I mean, if it's not to give to the cops, what's it all about?"

"That's my business." She said. She was about to continue, but the waitress came and asked us what we wanted. I ordered a Fisherman's omelet, and Jessie ordered waffles. Gretchen said she was fine with water. When the waitress left, Gretchen continued, a little more quietly. "What I'm going to do with the information is none of your concern. Either tell me, or stop wasting my time."

"So you won't give us Amanda's articles?" Jessie asked.

She sighed. "It's only one article, and the notes for a third." She said. "That's all I got. And no, you can't have them. Here's what I will do if you help me, I'll tell you what they're about. I'll give you the main point."

"Freddie Divos." I said. "He runs the mobile home park in Lakeview. He lives there too."

Gretchen took out a small pad and a pen and got the correct spelling of his name. "Alright." She said looking at us both for a moment. "Junior Pierson used his money and influence to make a child disappear."

# ELEVEN

She told us that a little girl had gone missing from Extended Families and that Junior had gone to great lengths to cover it up. She said they made it look like the kid had been adopted and that now no one could say where she was. "Samantha," she said, "that was her name."

"That's awful." Jess said.

"Amanda looked everywhere for that kid. She interviewed over a hundred people. Junior Pierson didn't want her found and that's why Amanda was killed, and that's why your friend is gonna be strapped to a board and injected with poison." She put her hat on. "Freddie Divos." She said. "Thanks for the name. I told you two more than you told me, I hope it wasn't a mistake."

Jessie shook her head. "We all just want the truth to come out."

"I could give a fuck if the truth comes out." She said. "Because even if it did, no one would listen. You two owe me, I'll be in touch." With that she got up and walked away.

"I like her." I said. Our food arrived and I took a bite of my omelet. "You realize that doesn't help us at all."

"Why not?" Jessie said. "It's a motive for Junior to kill Amanda. David didn't have a motive to kill her."

"I'm sure Junior could deflect the story about the little girl onto the Extended Families organization. Some staff member there didn't do the proper background check and the kid wound up going to a pervert or Chinese organ thieves..."

"This isn't funny."

"I know." I said. "I'm just saying, it could be called a tragic mistake and it would soon be forgotten. Gretchen's right about that."

"But he tried to cover it up." She said. "The cover-up is always what gets powerful people in trouble. They never get in trouble for the actual crime. Murdering Amanda was part of the cover-up."

"True." I said. "But they're investigating two murders, and Junior only had a motive in one of them."

I had to pay for breakfast with the last money I had until payday, which was over a week away. Jessie had eighty dollars, but she said it was off limits because she'd been saving it for weed. She spent the day on the phone trying to line up a deal with no luck. People didn't have it or weren't home. I found myself intensely annoyed by the 'coded' messages she was leaving on people's machines and voice mail. She wanted to know if they'd seen her friend Mary, or the new Tom _Green_ movie. I told her Tom Green hadn't made a new movie in years and that she might as well just ask if they had any dope, but she didn't listen to me.

I was actually glad to have to go to work. "Paula Tilson's been putting her fliers up on the bulletin board again." John told me as I walked in the guardhouse. "You'd better take them down and go have a word with her."

"Okay." I said. "Should I give her a citation?"

"Nah, just give her another warning." He said. I was relieved. I hated handing people citations face to face. Leaving them on fancy cars was kind of fun, but actually seeing a person's reaction when you ruined their day was unpleasant. I took a golf cart and drove it down Noah Street, deliberately taking the long way around, to stretch out the call.

I drove past the Relna place and I slowed down to have a look. It appeared empty. I took down Paula Tilson's fliers, which were for health seminars she was holding in her living room, and went over to her house to warn her not to put them up anymore, but she wasn't home. On my way back I wrote a ticket for a car parked in the main lot that didn't have a visitor tag, and went back to the guardhouse. John was on the phone. "Oh here, he just came in." He said. He handed the phone to me.

"Hello?" -I don't know why, but I assumed it was Jess.

"So far, nothing." Manny Ayles said on the other line. "Hardly any activity at all."

"That's why you called?" I asked, noting John's curious expression as he watched me.

"Just thought I'd keep you informed." He said.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks Manny." I hung up and turned to John with a smile. "The kid thinks he's a deputy agent now." I said. "I told him to keep an eye on the upper park, and let me know if he sees who's been writing those lame tags on the fence."

John nodded. "And?"

"He called to tell me he hasn't seen anything so far."

"That's helpful." John said.

"Yeah, the kid's real sharp." I said

A little later I was dispatched to the dock to tell some party cruisers that they couldn't get a slip without advance registration. They were playing eighties hair metal without any sense of irony, and they were very drunk. There was a middle aged bald man, a younger guy without a shirt, and two heavily made-up girlfriends. They all held beer bottles and gave me bad looks for intruding on their fun.

That night John put me on the main-gate, which was unusual. When I asked him why he said he was reading a good book and wanted the quiet. Before the murder the arm on the main gate stayed up all day, and most of the cars that came through just slowed down a bit so you could see the pass hanging from their rearview mirror. Some of the ruder residents would zip through before you knew they were there, but now everyone had to stop. It made working the main-gate relatively labor intensive. People mostly seemed annoyed by the inconvenience of having to stop, until they realized it was due to the recent tragedy, and then they would overcompensate and be extra nice.

The gatehouse was connected to the main guardhouse, so I heard the call come in. Niti said she understood and that she'd look into it herself. "That's strange." She said after she'd hung up. "Mrs. Pern said she saw someone creeping around in the Relna's house. They're supposed to be out of town."

I froze. "Uh, I think I know who it is." I said, trying to find my way as I went. She looked at me and waited. "Their back door key goes under a potted plant on the porch, and I think Jordan Dinns saw where I left it the other day." I was invoking the name of the closest thing Lakeview had to a juvenile delinquent.

"Oh right, your unauthorized side-job," She said, "Franco told me about that. I guess I'd better get over there."

"Niti, why don't you let me go? I mean, I know the Relnas and I can put a good scare into Jordan."

She stood up. "Yes, I'm just a girl, and not even an agent like you." She said. "I'm sure you're the only one who could handle any real action."

"Come on Niti. I didn't mean that..."

"Yes, yes, I know you can't help it, but you're just like everyone else around here. You're on gate duty at the moment, so I'm afraid you'll have to sit this one out." She turned and walked out.

I got out my cell and started flipping through the Lakeview directory book, looking for the number for the Relna place. I found it and dialed, and as the phone rang, I tried to remember if they had a machine. If it went to voicemail, I was fucked. I could remember their phone in the kitchen, and there was definitely no machine there, but in the living room I wasn't sure. I thought there was a white answering machine next to a lamp on an end table. I was almost certain.

Hi, you've reached the Relna clan. We're not in at the moment, but if you leave your name and number after the beep, we'll get back to you. Thanks!

"DAVID!" I shouted after the beep. "Pick up the phone! Pick up right now. Hurry! It's an emergency, pickuppickuppickup."

I heard a click. "Ben?" He said.

"Someone saw you in there man, security's on the way right now. You need to hide or get the fuck out."

"On their way? How many?" He asked.

"One, but it doesn't matter, she knows where the key is and she's gonna come in the house, You gotta disappear."

"This is it." He said. "I can take care of it."

"What?"

"I got a knife. I can take care of it."

"No, are you fucking crazy? Just go hide somewhere. Go to the attic."

"You've been a good friend." He said. "But this is life and death for me. I'll make it look like I broke in here so you wont get in trouble."

"NO YOU FUCKING IDIOT! JUST _HIDE_ FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

I heard the click on the other end.

I ran out of the guardhouse and continued running toward the Relna place. Niti had taken the golf cart, so I didn't think she had gotten there yet. My lungs began to hurt and I slowed to a jog, but then the thought of Niti getting stabbed to death motivated me back into a sprint. Some old ladies sitting on their front porch looked surprised to see me running, and they called out to me, asking what was going on. I smiled and gave them a wave as I ran by.

When I reached the house the golf cart sat empty in front. I ran around to the back and saw her though the kitchen window. I rushed up the back steps, thinking David might be about to make his move, and threw open the door. Niti jumped and turned around fast. "Niti." I said, leaning over to catch my breath. "Hang on a minute." I held my hand up and looked at her while I tried to bring my breathing back under control. She looked confused. "I just wanted to tell you, I, uh, there was a call right after you left." I took another couple of breaths. "Mrs. Pern. She said she saw Jordan leaving the house, headed down third."

Niti furrowed her brow. "You left the main gate to come down here and tell me that?" She shook her head. "That thing on your belt is called a radio, dummy. It would've gotten that information to me a lot faster than your old legs."

"Right, you're right, yeah." I said. "I shoulda radioed, I just thought you might need help."

"Listen Ben, I think you might've gotten hooked on big excitement and thrills over the last couple of weeks. I'm sorry to disappoint you but there is no burglary or severed body parts or murders going on here. It's something much less exciting than all that." She looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "Don't you smell it?"

I sniffed. "What is it?" I asked, unable to smell anything.

"Pot." She said. "Jordan obviously came in here to smoke a joint, and now he's going back to his house or over to Matt's. I'll go find him and have a word, I suggest you get back to the main gate before someone realizes there's no one there and files a complaint."

"You're right. Sorry." I said. "I was trying to help."

"Go." She said.

She arrived back at the guardhouse about forty-five minutes later, shaking her head and smiling. "That kid is a real problem." She sat back in the chair in front of the telephone and leaned back, folding her arms. "You know where he was? Over in the rec-center, shooting pool with Melissa Finer and Beth Obersen. Just as calm as you please."

"Did he act all shocked and innocent?" I asked.

"Yeah, the little shit. You could tell he was high." She said. "He was red-eyed and slower than usual, but even in that condition he was insolent as ever."

"Did you read him the riot act?"

"Well, I told him we knew he'd been in there, and that given recent events we were not as reluctant as before to get the police involved in local matters. I told him that breaking and entering could get him five years."

"Sounds like a good line." I said.

"Yeah, it has the benefit of actually being true. Anyway, he denied everything and wouldn't you know it, Melissa and Beth both said he'd been with them all night. I would've expected that from Melissa, but imagine little Beth, lying for that creep. Well the three of them are on my list now, and I never forget."

"How'd you leave it with them?" I asked.

"Oh, I told them I was bringing the police in first thing in the morning to dust for finger prints, and that as soon as they were identified we'd be arresting someone."

"That must've freaked them out." I said.

"No it didn't seem to." She said, thinking it over. "Maybe it really wasn't Jordan in there. Either that or he's a good actor. He really didn't look particularly scared at all."

"He probably knew you were just bluffing." I said.

"Yeah, I suppose if _you_ had been there he would've cried and admitted everything."

"No, I didn't mean that," I said, "just that, you know, these kids think they know everything. He's an arrogant little prick."

"Yes, he could use a good beating." She said.

# TWELVE

Jessie had called everyone who had ever sold her weed in her entire life, and still hadn't found anything. She tried to wake me up at nine the next morning, shaking me and asking how I could sleep when we were in the middle of some kind of freaky weed drought. I told her to leave me alone and let me sleep. She continued anyway, demanding that I call Georgia, my ex-girlfriend, and ask if she knew where we could score. This time I yelled into my pillow that I just wanted to sleep, and she took the hint and went back into the living room. I finally got out of bed a little after eleven o'clock and went to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. She came in after me.

"You have to do something." She said. "I'm not going to be much fun to be around if I can't smoke. I'm starting to wig-out already. I can't even score dirt-weed."

"I'll ask our stowaway." I said. "He's got some. He almost got busted last night." I told her how David was going to kill Niti, and how the whole place reeked of herb smoke. She laughed.

"He wouldn't hurt anyone." She said. "He was probably just stoned and freaked out."

"Jessie, I love you, but you give people way more credit than they deserve sometimes. David would absolutely kill someone to save his own neck."

"He never would've done it. He's all talk."

"You need reality orientation." I said. "It's Friday, July twentieth, two thousand seven. I'm glad you can't score, I need you clear-headed right now. I mean think about it, our destiny is tied up with David Telano Jess, _David Telano_. He's the worst fuck-up I have ever known, and I've known some heavy fuck-ups. He's not going to take us down with him, alright? I wont let him. He's a big boy, he's made his decisions and he can live with the consequences. I'm going over there to set him straight today."

"You're such a brute of a man." She said. "So authoritative. You have to take decisive action don't you?"

I flexed my arm muscles. "That's right." I said.

After I'd dropped her off at the PFPFP I headed over to Lakeview early. I parked up the street from the Relna place and walked down. I got the key from underneath the potted plant and entered quickly, leaving the kitchen light off. I went into the living room and sat on the couch, so I couldn't be seen through the front window. I slid the answering machine over and hit play. I skipped a couple of reminders about Lakeview Resident's Council meetings, listening for my own voice so I could erase the incriminating message. It wasn't there. They had a high-end digital answering machine, so it was a possibility that Phil had called to check his messages from California. He certainly wouldn't have known what to make of my message. I tried to remember what I'd said. Had I said David's name? I couldn't remember.

I was starting the messages over again when I heard David's voice. "I erased it already." He said. He was standing inside the doorway, at the top of the stairs to the basement. I quickly got across the room and through the door, shutting it behind me.

"What the fuck was all that shit last night?" I asked, following him down the stairs.

"It was a bad scene," he said, "I was scared man, real scared." We got down into the rec-room, and I noticed right away that the TV was gone. We crossed into the inner room where David had set the TV on the bar. I was glad to see he hadn't sold it. There were blankets and a pillow on the floor and the whole place reeked of stale cigarette smoke. I shut the door behind us and turned on the light.

"You're wrecking this place." I said. "You've only been here two nights. Where'd you get these sheets and stuff?"

"From the bedroom."

"You shouldn't even be up there." I shook my head. "Even if we clean this place up, you think Phil and his wife aren't going to notice that smell? It smells like a bar in here. You can't get that smell out of carpet. It's permanent."

"So they get here and one of the rooms in the house smells like smoke. Big deal. There was an ashtray down here, so they must have friends that smoke. It already smelled when I got here. -We'll fuckin' Febreeze it."

"No, I was here last night with Niti, and the whole place reeked of weed. It smelled like Willie Nelson's tour bus -I mean the whole house, we were up in the kitchen smelling it."

"I can't help it, I got some extra stinky shit." He said. "I need it to calm my nerves."

"Were your nerves real calm last night when you said you were gonna to stab Niti?"

"I never said that."

"You said, _I have a knife. I'll take care of it_. How was I supposed to take that?"

"I woulda only done it as a last resort." He said. "I'm not crazy."

"It shouldn't have come to that in the first place. What are you walking near the windows for? Someone saw you."

"I don't know when. I only left this room twice. I gotta piss, right?"

"When did you move the TV?" I asked.

"Last night." He said. "I was bored."

"And I suppose you turned on the light didn't you?"

"I couldn't move that shit in the dark. The light was only on for a minute." He said.

"Well it was long enough to freak Mrs. Pern out! You almost got caught-"

"But I didn't get caught Ben. Fuck... You just come here to lecture me?"

I took a deep breath. "No man, just please, be more careful. I'm in this now too. I don't want to go to jail either."

"The TV barely works in here anyway." He said. "There's no cable hookup. I only get channel two. Have you found out anything on my uncle? How's the search?"

"Nothing so far." I said. "We don't have shit to go on really. This friend of Amanda's, Gretchen Salle, we met with her and she told us some story about a missing kid from Extended Families. She said Junior's trying to cover it up and keep it out of the papers. You know anything about that?"

"No." He said. "Listen, his whole organization is crooked as fuck. I wouldn't put anything past them. My uncle's end of it involves driving large quantities of small bills to various businesses around town. My uncle's motel, a couple of car dealerships, a salon, a nail place, and Megapark! They get most of it. If Junior Pierson is involved with the adoption place you can be one hundred percent sure he's not motivated by the milk of human fuckin' kindness."

"Yeah." I said. "I guess we don't have anything new to tell you then. Gretchen Salle is on a crusade to find out what happened to this kid. I don't think she can really help us."

"Yeah." David said. "My uncle is the guy who could get me out of this. If we could get Freddie busted he might give up Junior. That would save me. I mean they're more likely to believe that a drug dealer killed his wife than a respectable business man or whatever he's supposed to be."

"Yeah, but your uncle's in the financial end of it, he probably never even sees the actual drugs." I pointed out. "It's gonna be hard to get him busted."

"I'm working on a letter." David said, pulling a legal pad off the bar and handing it to me. "It's to the cops."

I read:

To the police working on the Becky Pierson and Amanda Porget murder case,

I am David Telano. I did not kill anybody. Please beleive me. For more than a year I worked for my uncle, Freddie Divos. I was the "manager" of his hotel, Shoreston Motor Lodge. I sat behind the desk and rented rooms to people, but I never touched the books. After a while, I realized that there was no way even during the summer rush that he was making enough money to pay the bills. There's a Budget Inn right off the highway that's nicer and cheaper! I personally witnessed Freddie Divos bringing large amounts of cash in every month to make it look like it was coming from the hotel. I believe this is called "Money Laundering."

I also did some illegal stuff. I admit it. My Uncle sold me electronics and other goods at very low prices which I would resell at flea markets around here. I did this a lot, and had done some stolen credit cards too, that he provided for me. He gave me Amanda Porget's credit card trying to frame me for her murder. He also gave me her camera and some jewelry which they didn't mention on TV. The real person who killed her was Harold Pierson Junior. Freddie Divos told me. When I confronted Junior Pierson he told me to take his car, in an attempt to buy me off. I was going to bring the car to the police the next day as evidence of attempted bribery, but the next day I found out that his wife had been murdered and that the police were after me. But I didn't do it!

All this is true. My uncle is a bad person, and I'm sure he will tell you everything if he thinks it will get him out of trouble. I am willing to testify to all this in a court of law. I got to clear my name. I will turn myself in if my uncle is arrested and you garantee my safety. Until then I will keep on hiding.

-David Telano

"I don't think this shit is gonna fly." I said, sitting on a bar stool. "I mean come on, you think they're going to believe Junior Pierson just gave you his car? And that you were going to turn it in the next day?"

"That's almost the truth." David said. "Yeah, I was gonna keep the car, but they can't prove that."

"They don't have to prove it. You're not accused of taking a car, you're accused of murder."

"I KNOW!" He yelled. "This letter could help me! I don't need you to come in here and rip holes in it... Fuck!"

"I don't have to rip holes in it, it's already got plenty. I just want to be as tough as the police are going to be."

"It's mostly the truth." He said. "That's the best I can fuckin' do."

"Alright then, send it and let's hope it doesn't fall on deaf ears."

"I need you to e-mail it to them for me." He said.

"We should send it regular mail." I said. "That's harder to trace."

"But they put a stamp on there that says where it was picked up. They'll know I'm in town."

"Not necessarily. You could've mailed it to a friend in town and had that person mail it for you." I pointed out.

"But you could e-mail it from the library or the coffee shop with the computers up on Billard Avenue." He said. "Then even if they traced it, it couldn't be connected to you."

"At the library you have to put in your library card number. They started making you do that after 9-11. And that coffee shop on Billard is always full of people. There'd be witnesses."

"Okay, so we send it regular mail, can you read my handwriting okay?"

"Yeah it's fine." I said.

"I misspell anything?"

"Guarantee has a u, but whatever, it's readable."

"Also, you know the names of the cops on the case right? You can address it to them?"

"No, man, 'cause how would you know their names except through me?" I said. "That would be pretty stupid."

"The one guy was on TV, what's his fuck? Um, Burgandy some-shits-"

"Borgano." I said. "I guess we could address it to him. The guy's a dick though, I'm warning you. He's not gonna believe any of it."

"If he's the guy, we mail it to him. You'll look up the address?"

"Yeah." I said. "Oh and one more thing, can you spare any of that stinky weed? Jessie's jonesin' and nobody has anything."

"Fuck," he said, "I was going to ask if _you_ could bring _me_ some. I'm tapped out."

I went up to the guardhouse and changed into my uniform. Someone had the GSA squad car out, so I took a golf cart and headed toward the trailer park. Freddie Divos' trailer was dark and his car wasn't there. I looked in the bushes on the other side of the parking lot, but there was no sign of Manny or his camera. I decided to go see if he was home. I took the golf cart down to Fourth Street.

Not wanting to explain to his mother why I was there, I didn't knock on the door, and instead, leaned over some bushes and looked in the living room window. Manny was in there sitting in front of the TV playing a video game. He seemed to be alone so I tapped on the window. I had to tap again before he noticed and put his game on pause. He looked out the window and saw me, and then came to the front door. "You scared me." He said. "Why don't you just knock?"

"Thanks for calling me at the guardhouse yesterday." I said. "That was really stupid. You think I want my boss to know what we're doing? Come on Manny, use your head."

"I didn't tell him anything."

"No, you made me come up with a lie on the spot." I said. "And all so you could tell me nothing. I'd understand it if you had some big news."

"He's the most boring person in the world. I watched him for two days and got nothing. He watches a lot of TV." He said.

"What about right now? Anything could be happening up there."

"No, he's been gone all night. He left yesterday afternoon all dressed up, and he's been gone since. I'm gonna go over there later and see if he came back yet. He wasn't there this morning."

"All dressed up?"

"Yeah, he was in a suit." He said.

"Alright," I said, "just don't call the guardhouse anymore." I gave him my cell number and told him to only call me if he had something to report.

# THIRTEEN

"When you were on the force you busted a lot of drug dealers, right?"

John leaned back in his chair and looked at me. It was turning out to be a slow evening and I hadn't been sent out on any calls since I'd gotten back from Manny's. "Yeah." He said. "All the time. Why?"

"I don't know. I was just thinking about something Mr. Loeffler said to me. He said he could get me a job in law enforcement. I told him I wasn't interested, but it kinda got me thinking. There's something attractive about the idea of bringing down a drug cartel. You ever get any big fish?"

"When I was on the taskforce that was our job," he said, "getting the big fish. It didn't really work though. We got a lot of possession with intent to distribute charges, but you hit the ceiling pretty quick. The low level people all flip on each other, but nobody's gonna give up a supplier. You really thinking about joining the force?"

"No, not seriously." I answered. "I'm just curious how it works. You say the low-level people wont give up the high-level people, but did you ever consider starting at the top?"

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know," I said, "maybe you could find someone who fits the profile of a big time supplier, and just watch him until you've got enough to make a case."

"Sometimes you can do it like that, but this is still America. You can't just start surveillance on somebody because you think he _might_ be involved in something. You have to have some kind of evidence or information to start with. You need a warrant. That's drugs mind you -terrorism is another story. If they see you so much as looking at a bridge they can ship you off to a secret prison with a sack over your head. Go figure."

"You ever feel bad about it?" I asked. "Sending all those people to jail?"

"It was my job." He said. "I know these days they'll tell you addiction is a disease, but everyone knows it's a choice. Once you've made the choice it might be near impossible to reverse it, but _near_ impossible aint impossible. Lots of people clean up their act. Sometimes doing fifteen months for possession is just the kind of wake-up call these addicts need."

"But what about Jessie?"

"What about her?"

"You know she smokes marijuana." I said. "She told me so. She could get thrown in jail for it."

"I never busted anyone for pot." He said. "Well, not _just_ pot. If a crack dealer also had some pot, we'd throw that charge on there too, but I've never busted anyone for just pot. I'd say most of the people on the force have used it at some point in their lives, and I don't think anyone takes it too seriously."

"Some must." I said. "There's tons of people in jail on marijuana charges. There's gotta be cops out there who don't share your enlightened views."

"Jessie still smoke it every day?" He asked.

"Yeah, just about."

"Well, I wish she'd quit, but I doubt that'll happen anytime soon. Have those detectives been around to see you again?"

"They came by the house the other night." I said. "They were looking for David, I guess they thought he might be hiding out with us."

"I know, Jessie told me." He said. "I meant since then."

"No, they haven't been around since."

"You tell them everything you know?" He asked, tilting his head forward to emphasize the seriousness of the question.

"Geez, you sound like Mr. Loeffler." I said. "Yeah, of course I did."

"This Telano character, was he always a bad egg?"

"David? Nah. He was a good guy." I said. "He really was. I mean _is_ , I don't know. I haven't talked to him in a long time. After high school I got a real job and started an adult-type life for myself and he didn't, so you know, we lost touch after a while."

"He's a big kid huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that. I don't think he ever meant anyone any harm, but he was always kind of a trouble magnet, you know? A fuck-up."

"You think he did all the stuff they say?"

I was surprised by the question. "No." I said. "No I don't. There's something wrong about the whole scenario, but I can't put my finger on it."

"He worked for Freddie Divos, at the hotel right? And Freddie's his uncle?"

"Yeah." I said.

"David sell dope?"

"No, not really. I mean, just weed sometimes, and even then I don't think he ever bought more than an ounce or two. No, he was into selling electronics and stuff. I don't know if he ripped off the stuff himself or just sold it. Anyway, he never physically hurt anyone as long as I knew him. Aren't killers usually violent to begin with?"

"Yeah," he said, "usually." The phone line was blinking and he picked up the receiver and started to give his standard greeting but cut it off. He mouthed 'Jessie' to me. He listened for a while and then laughed. "Well, then you shouldn't worry about it. The police aren't going to do anything... Yes I'm sure. They have enough to worry about... Okay." John handed the phone to me, shaking his head.

"Some lady wanted her money back from the tour because one of the chimps threw some shit on her." She said.

"Rolly again?"

"Who else? This self-righteous bitch and her creepy fucking family went through and she came out all incensed and started yelling at me. I told her it was part of nature, and that we couldn't control what the chimps did with their own shit, but she kept on demanding her money back."

"You give it to her?" I asked.

"Hell no." She said. "I cursed her out, and told her I'd give her money back if she could find the sign in the shop that promised that the chimps wouldn't throw shit at them. She left and said she'd be back with a cop to get her money. _I knew we shoulda gone to Megapark!_ She said. The fat bitch."

"You did the right thing. I probably would've just given her her money back."

"I'm in no mood to oblige anybody right now." She said. "Did you talk to our friend about that thing? You know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah." I said. "No luck."

"This whole day has been a fucking nightmare, if I don't score soon I'm gonna eat somebody's face."

"I love you too honey." I said. "Bye bye now."

That night I was on the main-gate again and John took the side gate. I was so bored I read a People magazine.

The next morning I had Jessie write out an envelope addressed to Detective Borgano. She put down a made up PO box in Stockholm Sweden for the return address. I wiped the paper and the envelope down with a cleanex, just in case they checked for fingerprints. I carried it by the edges to my car and drove to my old neighborhood. The mailbox I chose to mail it from was a block and a half away from Meredith Divos's house. I figured the cops would assume she'd resent it for him, and they wouldn't make a big deal out of it. If they found out it was me, they would use it to get me on the hook.

I was thinking about David's mom, and how she'd sent me flowers after I saved her brother's pinky, which gave me a good idea. I stopped at a Dunkin Donuts and got a half dozen assorted and two cups of coffee and headed back. I parked across the street from my old house, which my mom had sold years ago to a couple who'd painted it blue. I walked up to Meredith Divos' front door, carrying the box of donuts and coffee in a cardboard carrying case.

My thought was that Freddie might be there, but she seemed to be alone. She was surprised to see me, but she invited me in anyway, apologizing about the state of her house. She was wearing a nightgown, but I didn't think I had gotten her out of bed. We went to her kitchen, and I set the donuts and coffee on the table while she got a roll of paper towels from the counter. The coffee I'd brought was redundant because she had a pot going, but she politely took the lid off one of the cups I'd brought and began fix it with creamer and sugar. "This is very nice of you." She said. "I hadn't seen you in years, and here I see you twice in a matter of weeks. What brings you by?"

"I was in the neighborhood and I thought you might need a little pick-me-up." I said. "You were always so nice to me, I just thought you must be going through a tough time now, between David being in trouble, and your little nephew passed away. I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do."

"That's very Christian of you." She said. "I've been having some bad luck alright. Tell me, are you still living with that nice girl?"

"Jessie." I said. "Yeah I am."

"I always thought that if David had found the right girl his life would've been a lot different. A good woman could've straightened him out. A good hard-headed woman."

"Yeah, maybe so." I said, taking a sip of coffee. "Baby Rico's funeral coming up soon?"

"Two days ago." She said. "Didn't you see the notice in the paper?"

"I don't get the paper." I said. "How's your brother's hand doing?"

"Better, I think. I haven't spoken with him. I'm actually starting to worry. We usually talk every day, and now, during all this he just stops calling back... It's awful."

"Was he at the funeral?"

"Yes." She said. "My sisters aren't speaking to me. They blame David for Rico's death. Maybe Freddie agrees with them. I guess they're right, but I'm sure David didn't mean for anything like that to happen. David couldn't have known that Rico would pull out a stupid pellet gun and point it at those cops. How could he have known?"

"He couldn't have." I said. "The worst you can say about David is that he didn't really think it through, that's all."

"They don't want to hear that. They just want someone to blame. I say blame the police that did it." She was sniffing back tears.

"I'm so sorry." I said. I put a hand on her shoulder. "I came over to cheer you up, and I made it worse didn't I?"

"No, no, you're fine." She said. "I've been so blue since this started. I wish they would catch him so at least I would know he was safe. "

"I'm sure things'll turn around soon." I said, standing up. "I've gotta get going Miss Divos, I don't want to take up any more of your time. Thank you so much for inviting me in, just give me a call if you need anything alright? I'll write my number down." There was a post-it note pad and pen on the counter, and I wrote my name and number. She stood up and gave me a hug. I left her house feeling like a shit.

# FOURTEEN

I told Jessie that our best hope of getting David off was Freddie Divos, and he'd disappeared. She was impressed that I'd gone over to David's mom's house to look for him. "You know," she said, "the man owns a hotel. That would be the obvious place to look for him. He's probably holed up in one of the rooms."

"Yeah, you're right." I said.

"We should go over there and check it out. We might get lucky and spot him."

"Let's go." I said.

"Now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Sarah said she'd call me back today." She said. "There's a guy driving up from Akron, one of her brother's friends, and he supposedly has a bunch of good weed with him. He grows it himself."

"We're trying to help our friend beat a double murder charge, and you're worried about getting some weed?"

"Don't be so dramatic." She said. "You go, I'll stay here and wait for Sarah. He's probably not there anyway."

"You just said you thought he _was_ there."

"If you're gonna go, be sure to be back in time to get me to work."

I drove to the Shoreston Motor Lodge and decided that I didn't want to stay and do surveillance. There were only twelve rooms, and you could tell that they were all empty except for one. There were two cars in the lot, and the office looked closed. I parked and walked up the stairs to the room that looked occupied. It had the curtains closed and the lights on. I knocked.

There was a shuffling sound from inside the room and I heard someone heavy coming toward the door. A chubby hand pulled the curtain in the window aside a little and a large man in a white undershirt looked out at me. He looked like he was in his late thirties and his brown hair was thin and messy, like he'd just gotten out of bed. "Whaddya want?" He said.

"Freddie in there?" I asked.

The guy squinted at me. "No." He said. "Who're you?"

"I'm a friend of his sister." I said. "She hasn't seen him for a while and she's worried about him. I told her I'd come by and see if I could find him."

The guy coughed. "What's your name?" He asked.

"Uh, -Phil." I said.

"Okay, _Uh Phil_ , if I see him I'll tell him you were looking for him."

"Tell him _his sister_ is looking for him." I said.

"Yeah, okay, got it." He said, giving me a fake smile and the thumbs-up sign before letting the curtain fall back in place. I walked to my car wondering who the guy was. I was turning the key in the ignition when I heard a tap on the passenger window that startled me. It was Detective Reyes. She opened the door and sat down next to me.

"Hi." I said.

"Drive." She answered. I pulled out of the parking lot onto the road, headed toward town. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" I asked.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Freddie Divos." I said.

"And why is that, Mr. Perkins?"

"Because his sister's worried about him." I said. I was glad to have that reason handy and not have to think up something on the spot, although it seemed a bit thin now that I was giving it to Reyes. "I went to see her this morning, and she told me he was missing, so I thought I'd see if I could find him. On top of everything that's happened to her, her brother stopped calling her back. She's really depressed. I feel bad for her."

Reyes thought for a moment. "My partner thinks we should be focusing our investigation on you." She said. "Maybe he's right. I had you down as a bumbling security guard with a case of morbid curiosity, but maybe your interest is more than curiosity after all. Maybe it's self-interest."

"I'm a security _agent_ ," I said, "not a guard, and I have no idea what you're talking about. Meredith Divos lost her nephew and had her son accused of two murders, and now her brother has gone missing. I've known her since I was ten, I just thought I could help."

"You're a real boy scout." She said.

"Actually I never got into that stuff. I had a friend who made it all the way to eagle scout, but it always seemed sort of-"

"Turn around and take me back. Trying to talk to you is obviously a waste of time." I turned the car around and began driving back the way I'd come. "Your friend David -who you haven't been in contact with- is in serious danger, and I don't mean from the police. If he isn't already dead he will be soon. Should he happen to contact you, tell him his best and most likely _only_ hope is to turn himself in, although if he killed or kidnapped his uncle there's nothing we can do for him."

"Now you think he killed his uncle?"

"Sure, why not?" She said. "What do you think happened to him?"

"I have no clue." I said.

She told me to stop a block up from the motor lodge. "Do you have any information regarding this case that you'd like to tell me? Any theories? You're obviously an interested party."

"I'd say Junior Pierson is behind the whole thing." I said. "Amanda wrote an article about the adoption place in Port Sound, did you know that? Junior Pierson runs it. Amanda was going to continue investigating. _That's_ probably why she was killed."

Reyes laughed. "I read it." She said. "You're not the only one who knows how to work Google. You think Junior killed her to save himself a little bad publicity huh? And then killed his wife and shot himself too? Just for the hell of it?" She opened the door.

"David wouldn't kill anyone for a camera, or a car. He could've easily stolen that stuff without having to kill anybody."

She got out and turned around, leaning down to look at me. "I've been doing this a long time, and I've come to be wary of people who butt their way into murder investigations. They're never what they appear to be." She shrugged. "You appear to be an honest guy." She shut the door and I watched her walk toward the bank parking lot across the street.

Jessie hadn't heard from Sarah, and was sullen as I drove her to work. "I shoulda called off sick today." She said. "What if she's trying to call right now?"

"Jesus, you're like a junky." I said. "Relax, I'm sure some more weed will show up eventually."

"You really think Reyes suspects something?" She asked.

"Yeah." I said. "She doesn't like me and she didn't believe I was looking for Freddie for his sister's sake."

"You're a terrible liar. You really suck." She picked at the edge of her sleeve, thinking. "What if he fled the country? David seems to think he's the only one who can get him off, maybe Junior paid him to relocate to Barbados or somewhere."

"I don't know, maybe." I said. "Junior hasn't shown his face in Lakeview since the shooting, but they're planning a big reception for him tonight. If Freddie doesn't show up for it, then he's hiding or he ran away. Everyone is gonna be at this thing. They're making Junior out to be the poor victim, and the Resident's Council wants him to know that the whole town is behind him. They keep calling him a hero."

"Why?" She asked. "Even if you believe his story, all he did was watch his wife get shot, get shot himself, and then not quite die."

"To some people that makes him a hero I guess." I said. "Reginald Pickley is the guy planning the reception, and he told John he wanted it to be like that scene at the end of It's a Wonderful Life, you know, when the whole town gave money to Jimmy Stewart. He's trying to stage manage a version of that, but without the money. I think he even wants it to look spontaneous."

"Oh brother. I never liked that movie."

"Really? I think it's pretty good." I said. "I like it when Jimmy Stewart socks the cop."

"What?"

"You know, when he's in the alternate reality, and the angry mob is after him and the cop comes and he just socks him in the face and takes off running. That part's cool."

"Oh, _socks the cop_."

"What'd you think I said?"

"I thought you said you liked the part where Jimmy Stewart sucks the cock."

"Seriously Jess, you might have mental problems." I said. "What's our next move?"

"We just wait and see if Sarah calls." She answered.

"I'm talking about David."

"Oh, I guess we have to find out what happened to Freddie." She said. "The police are looking for him too, but if they think David killed him they're way off base."

"So we figure out where Freddie is and tell the cops?"

"Yeah, that sounds right." She said.

"Any bright ideas where to look for him?"

"We could start with his trailer." She said. "You could get in there and have a look around. You might learn something."

I pulled up to the PFPFP and stopped in front of the front door. "I'm already in for aiding a fugitive, what's a little breaking and entering?"

"That's the spirit." She said. "You don't think this Freddie guy was a smoker do you?"

"Oh, I'm also looking for any spare weed the guy might've been holding?"

"Just a thought."

# FIFTEEN

The key to the trailer was under the mat, but I knocked, just to be sure that Freddie wasn't home. There was no answer so I went in and flipped on the light, feeling no need to be particularly sneaky. You could see the entire space as soon as you entered. Nothing had changed much from when I'd been there looking for the severed pinky. It was a dingy, lifeless hole. Next to the kitchen was an area that could roughly be called the living room, and beyond that was the 'bedroom'. There was a faint smell of mold, which was competing with a lingering cigar smell. I felt a little sick to my stomach.

I went to the telephone in the living room and picked it up. His caller ID showed calls from his sister as far back as the telephone could remember. I hit the redial button, and looked at the number that came up on the screen without hitting the 'OK' button that would dial the number. I wrote it in the margin of a newspaper sports section that was nearby and then ripped it off and put it in my pocket. A noise at the window stopped my snooping, and I went over to check it out but I didn't see anything. I started feeling nervous about being there, but I continued.

Next to the phone was a stack of mail, some of which was open, but useless. I looked at a credit card bill to see where he'd used it, but all the charges listed were a month old. As I went into the bedroom area I had to remind myself that I was doing this for the right reasons. Looking through someone's stuff can make you feel like a creep.

There was a small nightstand by the bed with two drawers. I opened the top drawer and found a small, old-fashioned revolver, sitting on top of a stack of Barely Legal magazines.

I picked up the gun and looked at it, trying to figure out if it was loaded or not when I realized all at once that someone was behind me. getting startled while you're holding a gun is like being startled twice, because you flinch, and then you flinch again, afraid that the first flinch might've accidentally fired the weapon. "I hear you're on a missing persons case." John Marchin said.

"Huh?"

"You're here looking for Freddie right? I mean I assume you're not here to rob the place."

"Oh, no." I said. "Of course not. I went and saw Freddie's sister, Meredith, and she said she hadn't heard from him in days, so I thought I'd see if something happened to him. He coulda choked to death in here all alone."

"No corpses around that I can see."

"No. Boy you scared me coming in like that." I said. "And here I am, holding a gun."

He smiled. "It looks good on you." He said. I started to put the gun back in the drawer. "You should wipe it off first. You don't want to leave your fingerprints all over someone else's gun."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." I said. I took a couple of tissues from a box beside the bed and wiped the gun down. "What did you mean when you said you'd heard I was on a missing persons case?"

"Borgano told me his partner ran into you at Freddie's motor lodge. If they knew you were here right now they'd be pretty irritated. I tried to stick up for you, but they just don't like you son, that's all there is to it."

"You talked to them?"

"Yeah." He said. "You're not the only one trying to find Freddie. Detective Borgano's been watching this place non-stop for the past two days. That's why I've been working the side gate, to let him in and out without any of the other security personnel knowing about it. When he's not here, I'm watching it, and I'm supposed to call him if anything happens. You're lucky you didn't pull this stunt two hours from now. Borgano would love to get you into his interrogation room."

"I guess it was pretty stupid to just come in here like that."

"Yeah." John said. "And if you're gonna do it, do it right and get yourself some gloves."

"Should I wipe down the phone?"

"They already checked the place for prints." He said.

"Did they find anything?"

"No." He said. "But I found something. I found a pimply faced kid with a camcorder sneaking around the place."

"Manny."

"Yeah Manny." He said. "I told him to knock it off. I guess you've been on this for a while now, you wanna tell me why?"

"I talked to David on the phone." I said. "He called me. He said the whole thing was a frame job. He said Junior and his uncle set him up, and I believe him. I do. I figured I'd keep tabs on Freddie for him, see if he shows his hand. So far I got nothing."

"You think Freddie killed that Porgett woman and Becky Pierson?"

"I didn't say he killed them, just that he set David up for it." I said. I considered telling him that I thought Junior was mixed up with drug dealers and about the missing kid, but it sounded too stupid. He was a cop, and my beliefs were based on the word of Gretchen Salle and David Telano, two highly sketchy people, who themselves were probably only speculating.

"Go," he said, "go get your uniform on, you've gotta go down to the lower park for Junior's welcome home party. I want the Guardian Security Agency to be represented. We need to remind people that we're part of this community too."

"Aren't you coming?" I asked.

"No, I gotta stay up here until Borgano shows up." He said.

"Thanks for not making a big deal out of this." I said.

"A big deal out of what? Nothing happened."

The lower park was crowded with well-wishers, and people offering their condolences to the Junior Pierson and his daughter. It was a bright day and the parents who'd brought their kids were having a hard time keeping them from running around and acting like it was just another summer party. It was supposed to be a show of support for someone who had suffered a tragedy. Frisbee would've been in poor taste. People had brought covered dishes and drinks though, and it seemed to me everyone was straining to keep the mood somber.

Junior Pierson sat at the table under the big tree with his daughter. His left arm was in a sling from his gunshot wound. George Loeffler and Reginald Pickley and their wives were also sitting at his table. He was eating a plate of lasagna when I came down, and the other people at his table were eating their food in respectful silence. I was on my way to offer my condolences when Mary Tarletan grabbed my arm and told me I had to have some of her summer squash casserole. I sat down with her and her husband Fred and Mr. and Mrs. Williams. Mary scooped a large portion onto a paper plate for me. The Williams' were a young couple, and their baby was sleeping peacefully in a bassinet. I complimented Mrs. Tarletan on the food and told them I couldn't linger too long because I was still working.

"Oh, you can relax a minute or two." Fred said. "You need food after all, you can't protect the community on an empty stomach."

"No indeed." I said. Whenever I talk to old people I find myself saying things like 'no indeed' as if I were a character from _Our Town_.

"Look at him over there." Mary said nodding to Junior. "He's so brave. I don't know how he can go on after something like that." Our whole table stared at poor Junior Pierson. "What a terrible shock -and to have it happen here."

"These days I guess it could happen anywhere." Fred said, drawing everyone's attention back to our own table.

"I disagree." Mr. Williams said. "You know where things like this are supposed to happen. They're supposed to happen in the inner city. Hell, those people are ready for this kind of thing. It's no shock to them, it's par for the course, _but here_. This place is supposed to be a refuge from that, it's supposed to be safe." He shook his head and then looked at me. "Some people in positions of power around here wont even listen to common-sense suggestions."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Some of the security policies should be altered. What happened _proves_ that-"

"Franco right? He's been talking to the Council?" Mr. Williams didn't answer. "Well it doesn't surprise me." I said. "But let me just say he has his own best interests at heart. I'm sure he would have you believe he came to the Council out of a deep concern for the safety of the citizens of Lakeview, but come on, he's just using this situation to try to get himself a promotion. He's an opportunist."

"He told us some of his ideas and they sounded damn reasonable-"

"Honey," his wife said, "don't argue. Let the man eat his casserole."

"John Marchin has over thirty years experience on the police force." I tried to keep my voice calm. "He knows what he's doing, and he's keeping this place as safe as can reasonably be expected. I mean -should we put up barbed wire? Do you want to live in the green zone?"

"Look what's happened." The man said. "I mean, just look at it-" A child was screaming over by the pier, and it distracted us from our conversation. Some kids had been playing there, poking around in the water with a branch. I looked over in time to see the girl fall into the lake and the boy running away at full speed. Mr. Pickley got to the dock before me and was trying to get the girl to calm down so he could pull her out. She was flailing and crying and he and I were both soaking wet before we finally got her up onto the dock. She sat there coughing and retching up lake water.

Dr. Warren pushed me aside and kneeled next to the girl, putting his hand on her back and pushing her forward gently, to help the water come out. Then someone behind me started screaming and there was a moment of panic among the people who had gathered on the pier. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but finally I saw it. Submerged just below the surface of the murky water was the bug-eyed corpse of Freddie Divos.

# SIXTEEN

Ten-year-old Beth McGinley had been badly traumatized by her swim with Freddie. She was wrapped in a blanket, sitting at one of the picnic tables surrounded by adults trying to calm her. She took ragged breaths through clenched teeth. I radioed a 223, which is a call for outside police assistance, and requested that all available security get down to the lake. Nelson arrived first because he'd been close by at the meetinghouse. I was telling him what happened when John came down in a plain blue Chevrolet with Borgano driving. Borgano took a look at the body in the water and radioed for assistance from the coast guard.

When police cars began arriving, Bogano told Nelson and John and me to get off the dock and help set up a perimeter. It was obvious that he did not consider it the scene of an accident. Reyes arrived around the time that the coast guard boat got there, and I watched her and Borgano hail the boat and direct it toward Freddie. The coast guard guys got a line around him and hauled him up out of the water. There was a horrified gasp from the crowd as the body was lifted into the air. People tried to usher children away from the sight, but quite a few watched the whole spectacle with fascination. The coast guard boat swung the body over the pier and lowered it gently. Reyes unhooked the line and she and Borgano began inspecting the body.

From where I was standing with John and Nelson I could see everything. Freddie was wearing a tank top undershirt and tan slacks and his skin had turned a bluish gray that contrasted sharply with his black chest hair and moustache. One of his loafers had come off, revealing a brown, lacy sock that almost looked like a lady's stocking. It seemed like a ridiculous thing for a corpse to be wearing. The bandage on his hand from where his pinky had been reattached was swollen with water and coming apart.

People from town stood around not knowing what to do. Junior Pierson and his daughter had slipped away, and Beth McGinley's mother had taken her home. The question of what exactly had happened was batted around among the onlookers, until for some reason the idea that it was a suicide took hold and I heard it repeated whenever anyone asked.

After the coroner carted the body away, Borgano and Reyes began taking people out of the crowd for questioning. They were talking to the boy who had turned up the body with a stick, when Meredith Divos arrived. "WHERE IS HE?" She screamed at a policeman guarding the yellow tape. "WHERE'S MY BROTHER?"

Reyes and Borgano looked over with interest. She spotted me and pushed a couple of people out of the way to grab onto my arm. "Ben!" She said. "What happened, where's my Freddie?"

"I'm sorry." I said. "Really, I uh, the coroner just took his body away." She shrieked and fell to her knees, still holding my arm. I knelt beside her and put my hand on her back. "Please," I said, "come sit on a bench. Don't sit on the ground there, _please_." I gently tried to pull her up, but she wouldn't move. A semi-circle formed around us, watching Meredith sob.

"Miss Divos?" Reyes said, pushing through. "I'm detective Reyes, I'm sorry about your brother. Ben, do you think you could help Miss Divos up?" I nodded and tugged at her limp frame, and she finally got herself up. "Miss Divos, you've had a terrible shock-"

"Wh-what happened to Freddie?" She asked.

"Apparently he drowned." She answered. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"He was only forty eight years old. I... what was he doing in the lake?"

"We're not sure Miss Divos, we just don't know what happened yet, it's too early. Ben, is there a place Miss Divos and I could be alone?"

"Yeah," I said, "you could use the office in the guardhouse. I'll take you up there if you want."

"No, I know where it is." She said. "Come with me Miss Divos." Meredith let go of my arm and latched onto the detective's, walking weakly beside her to her car.

I told John that we shouldn't leave the side gate without a guard at a time like this, and that I could go watch it. He thought about it for a minute before he agreed. I took the golf cart that Nelson had come in and headed up the hill. I hailed Niti on my radio as I drove. "Who's that?" She asked.

"Ben." I said. "Are you on two-way?"

"Yeah." She said. "What the hell's going on? Did they really find a body in the lake?"

"Affirmative." I said. "Freddie Divos' body. Listen, Niti, I need a huge favor. In a minute or two a detective is going to come in there with Freddie's sister to interview her. Could you put them in John's office and open the intercom one-way? I'll be at the side gate- we could listen in. You interested?"

"Ben Perkins, are you really that nosy?" She said. "It's none of our business and anyway wouldn't it be illegal?"

"I'm not sure." I said. "In any case it wouldn't be right. What do you say?"

"I'll see what I can do." She said. "They might notice the light."

"Put something in front of it."

"I'll try."

"Thanks Niti, over and out."

"Yeah, whatever." She said.

I got to the side gatehouse and opened up the intercom line. I listened for a minute, and strained my ears thinking they might've been across the room from the box, but when they came in I could hear them perfectly. The first thing I heard was Meredith crying. "I can't imagine the pain you must be feeling." Reyes said. There was warmth in her voice that sounded sincere. "Here, take a tissue. I want to help you Miss Divos, I really do. You've lost your nephew and your brother, and I'm afraid you're facing another tragedy. But this one can be prevented. Your son is in danger. I shouldn't tell you this, but some of my colleagues in law enforcement would like to hurt him. They would like that very much. Now he's got three murder charges hanging over his head, and they wouldn't hesitate to use deadly force."

"Three?" Meredith said. "You think David did this? I... I can't believe... You're wrong!" She sobbed. "It's not true!"

"Miss Divos I want you to take a deep breath. I said he's facing three murder charges, I never said that he committed the murders. It's possible that he's innocent on all counts, but how would we know that if we don't talk to him? He needs to come forward and proclaim his innocence, and who better to convince him to do that than his mother? You can help us and also help your son at the same time. If David turns himself in, it would go a long way with the District Attorney. They would be much more likely to show leniency."

"He wouldn't have hurt his uncle." She said. "He loved his uncle. They spent a lot of time together when he was growing up. I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, David is just mixed up in it by accident. He wouldn't hurt anyone! When he was a boy he cried for a week after his cat died... He tried to kill himself when his girlfriend left him a few years ago. He's... Sensitive."

"Do you know where he's hiding?"

"No, of course not. I didn't even know where he was living before all this happened."

"You haven't had any form of contact with him? No letters, emails, texts, phone calls?"

"Texts? No, no I haven't heard from him." She said.

"We need your help Miss Divos, The media are going to be very interested in this mess, and I'd like you to use that platform to help your son. I need you to urge him to come out of hiding. Wherever he is, I'm sure he'll hear your message. Do you think you could do that?"

"You think he's innocent?" She asked.

"I don't think I can honestly say that." Reyes said.

"But it _is_ a possibility." She said. "You have to admit that there's a _chance_ that this is just a big mistake."

"Yes." Reyes said. "He might be innocent. It's possible"

"If you think it will help, I'll ask him to turn himself in." She said. "But what about my brother?"

"We're going to do everything we can to find out what happened to him. When was the last time you saw him?"

She said she saw him at Rico's funeral on Thursday, and then she went on at length about how she didn't blame the police that had shot Rico, but that it wasn't really David's fault either. Reyes kept trying to break in with her next question. Finally she just interrupted her. "Miss Divos, was there anyone at the funeral that you didn't recognize?"

"You should know who was at the funeral. There were people there with badges taking pictures of everybody. They upset my sister terribly."

"I'm sorry about that, it's really a shame, but we can't take any chances on letting David slip through our fingers again. You'd be surprised how many fugitives we apprehend attending family functions. Was there anyone at the funeral who didn't seem to fit? It's going to take us a long time to identify all of Rico's cousins and friends from the pictures."

"There were a lot of people I didn't know." She said. "All of Rico's friends were strangers to me, and honestly most of them looked like the kind of people I wouldn't want to know. There _was_ one person who I wondered about. A white woman. Older than any of Rico's friends, and definitely not with any of them."

"And what did she look like?"

"Well, she was in all black, and she wore pants and boots -who wears boots to a funeral? And she had really short hair. Not like a bob or anything, I mean short like a buzz. She looked like she was probably thirty-five or forty. I thought maybe she was one of Rico's old teachers or councilors from rehab."

"And did you speak to your brother at all after the service?" Reyes asked.

Before I could hear the answer my walkie-talkie crackled. "Borgano's on his way up to take a statement from you." John said. "Just thought I'd let you know."

"Thanks." I said. I heard a few words of Meredith recounting her last conversation with her brother, something about bringing him tamales, but then I had to turn it off. I could hear Borgano's car coming.

Borgano seemed pleased that Freddie had turned up dead. I figured it must've confirmed a theory of his. I told him what had happened at the dock and he took a few notes but seemed eager to get the interview over with. He reminded me that withholding information about the whereabouts of a fugitive was a crime, and then he left. I switched the intercom back on but there was nothing coming through. I hailed Niti on my walkie-talkie. "What now?" She asked.

"I missed the end of it, I was talking to the other detective," I said, "did she say anything interesting after the tamale thing?"

"She mentioned your name if that's what you want to know."

"What did she say?" I asked.

"The detective asked if she'd been in contact with you recently, and Miss Divos said you brought her some donuts. Then she went on for ten minutes about how she usually doesn't eat junk food but that stress makes her crave sugar." Niti said.

"So that was it?"

"The detective wanted to know if she had asked you to look for her brother, and the Divos woman told her what a nice young man you are, and how you had probably just decided to do it yourself when you saw how upset she was. She thinks you're a good Christian boy, which in my book makes her pretty unobservant."

"No one knows me like you do." I said.

"Don't forget you owe me now." She said. "Over and out."

# SEVENTEEN

"We're responsible for Freddie's death." I said to Jessie when I got home. It was three forty five in the morning.

"He's dead?" She asked rubbing her eyes. I waited until I knew she was going to stay awake, and then I told her the gruesome tale and how I'd gotten a front row seat to Meredith Divos' police interview. "How the hell are we responsible?" She wanted to know.

"We told Gretchen Salle his name." I said. "She didn't know him before that. Meredith said there was a strange woman with short hair at Rico's funeral. That was the last time anyone saw Freddie alive. It's gotta be her."

"A lot of women have short hair." She said. "It could be a coincidence. And even if she did go to the funeral, that doesn't mean she killed Freddie. Assuming he _was_ killed, wouldn't the obvious suspect be Junior Pierson? Maybe Freddie knew too much about their business. If the police are half smart, that's probably what they're thinking."

"The obvious suspect is David Telano." I said. "If Gretchen isn't on their radar screen, they're probably assuming it's David. Reyes certainly didn't seem interested in the woman with short hair."

"Come on, Gretchen Salle didn't seem like a killer. A little rude maybe, but not a killer."

"You don't think anyone you've ever met is capable of murder." I said. "But look at the sequence of events. We tell Gretchen Freddie's name. Later that day she shows up at Rico's funeral, a place she knows Freddie will be, and then two days after that, his body turns up. I'm telling you she did it. I'm like a millimeter away from calling Reyes and spilling my guts."

"The cops don't need our help, they're cops. They know what they're doing."

"They probably think _I_ did it." I said. "Reyes was asking Meredith Divos all about me. It's a good thing your pap found me in Freddie's trailer and not Borgano."

"You find anything while you were in there?"

"Nothing that would help our cause."

"What about _my_ cause?"

"You mean dope? No." I said. "And you really should get your priorities straightened out. What the fuck are you thinking about weed for right now? We need to decide what we're going to do."

"We don't do anything." She said. "When the cops get David's letter, they'll see that he didn't want to kill Freddie -he thought Freddie could get him off. Why would he kill the one guy who could save him?"

"Yeah, or they'll think David killed him and then sent the letter to try to cover his ass. Jesus, maybe..."

"What?"

"I don't know Jess. David coulda done it." I said. "He was in Lakeview. He had reason to do it -call it revenge, or trying to get him to confess or whatever, but he had motive and opportunity."

"No, no." She said. "We're talking about David. He probably doesn't even know his uncle's dead yet."

"Let's face it Jessie, we're fucked. We started messing around with this shit and now it's way out of control. I'm not even sure that we're on the right side of it anymore."

"Yeah but David-"

"Fuck David!" I shouted. "We need to save ourselves! We've got the cops on one side and the fucking Junior Pierson on the other. You wanna wind up in the lake like Freddie? Or in Jail? You didn't see it Jessie. I mean this guy was really dead, right there in front of me. Just gone forever."

"What do you want to do, go to Reyes? Just go admit we helped one of America's Most Wanted hide two blocks from where he killed that woman?"

"Ha! You _do_ think he killed her. I knew it! I knew you weren't as sure as you pretended to be!"

"That just came out wrong-"

"No, you said it. I heard it loud and clear."

"You're an asshole." She said getting out of bed. She left the room.

"You can walk away but we're still fucked." I said, more to myself than to her. I took off my uniform and got under the covers. The sound of the TV in the living room and thoughts of cops and crooks and journalists and corpses and girlfriends wouldn't let me sleep.

Right as I started to drift off Jessie woke me, shouting about something on TV. I took a deep breath. "Come look, it's on the news already. It's their lead story." She said. I got out of bed and walked into the living room in time to hear the newswoman say that it appeared that David Telano had struck again.

" **Police would not speculate on the motive for the crime, but they did say that this recent death was highly suspicious and was probably connected to the attempted double murder here earlier this month. They have named David Telano as a person of interest in the case."** They showed an old mug shot of him on screen. **"If you have any information on the whereabouts of this man, police would like to hear from you. Tips can be made anonymously by calling the number below. Our News Crew Eleven reporter Wes Braskey was on the scene last night, when David Telano's mother made this statement to reporters."** She was standing in front of the bushes outside the guardhouse, with lights in her face. Underneath her picture it said 'Meredith Divos -Mother Of Suspected Killer'.

" **David didn't do any of this."** She said. **"You people have all jumped to the conclusion that he's guilty, but if you knew him, if you only knew him, you would know that he couldn't have done it. He's just a boy. He... He loved his uncle, they used to go fishing together. I don't understand why anyone would think he was a bad person. The police killed my nephew, just because they thought he was David. It's awful I..."** She looked off camera and nodded. **"David, mijo, if you're listening to this, turn yourself in. I know you're innocent, and we can get a lawyer and prove it in court. Just come forward and tell the police the truth. Please, I can't take any more of this."**

They cut back to the newswoman at her desk. **"The mother of alleged murderer David Telano. In other news, could your four-year-old drive a car? We meet one who did, and the parents who're just glad he's safe."**

"You said David set up a TV in his room, you think he saw that?" Jessie asked.

"Probably not." I said. "He's gotta be sleeping, but even if he did see it, he wouldn't turn himself in just 'cause his mom asked him to. He never listened to her before, I don't know why he'd start now."

"You should tell him about his uncle." She said. "He needs to know. It changes everything."

"Yeah assuming he wasn't the one that killed him." I said. "I can't keep going in and out of the Relna place, every time I go in there I'm putting myself at risk, and we know the cops are doing surveillance in Lakeview." I shook my head. "No, I'm only going in there to bring him food, and not 'till next week. All he needs to do is keep hiding, if he told us everything he knows, then the fact that his uncle is dead doesn't matter. We wait for the detectives to do their job and find out who did this, then he can turn himself in."

"They think _he_ did it!" She said. "Come on, they're looking for David, which means they're wasting their time."

"They were looking at Freddie's hotel weren't they? And his trailer? They must know this shit goes deeper than David."

"They were probably looking at his hotel because David used to work there, and they thought he'd be stupid enough to show up. Their only lead is David, and when they find him they'll convict him and give him the death penalty. We've gotta get these cops on the right track. We can't just sit around and wait for them to get it right. They won't."

"Okay, what should we do? Should we find Gretchen and tell her we know she killed Freddie?"

"We don't know that." She said.

"Yeah, but we could say we do and gauge her reaction." I pointed out.

"Great idea, if she did it, we'd be next on her hit list, and if she didn't she'd just laugh." Jessie said. "I've been thinking about it, and I think there is someone who can help us."

"Oh no-"

"Pap." She said. "He knows what's going on and he has experience. He's on our side. We should tell him about Gretchen and see what he says."

"Okay," I said, "but promise me one thing. Promise you'll let me sleep uninterrupted for the next three hours. After that, we can go through whatever torture you feel is necessary."

# EIGHTEEN

It was John Marchin's day off as well as Jessie's and mine, and he leaned against the counter in the kitchen sipping coffee out of one of our Santa-Claus mugs. Jessie told him that we had started looking into a few things for David and that now we were afraid it was out of control. "If you knew where he was or had been hiding him you'd be in real trouble." He said. "But just looking into a few things for a friend isn't serious. Borgano and Reyes already know you're doing that, I'm sure they didn't buy that you were looking for Freddie as a favor to his sister. They probably suspect you've been in contact with him, and they might even think you know where he is, but I wouldn't worry. David's the one who's really in the soup."

"David told us that if we could find any evidence at all that someone else was involved, he would turn himself in." Jessie said. "He's afraid that if the cops get him now, the investigation would be over."

"He's right." John said. "It would be. Who does David think is behind it?"

"Junior." I said. "That's what his uncle told him."

"Junior's history is far from spotless, I'll tell you that." John took a sip of coffee. "His father used to bail him out all the time, so now that he's not around Junior might've gotten into something he can't handle. I might be able to help you get something on Junior. It's possible. But Ben and I have to be careful. He's a part-owner in the GSA so he's our boss. Whatever we get, it can't look like it came from us. If you want my help in this thing, you'll have to agree that _I_ decide when we come forward, how we come forward, and with what evidence."

"Of course." Jessie said.

"Agreed." I said.

"Alright so let me have it. Give me everything you got." He said.

We told him about Gretchen Salle and how we thought she'd been at Rico's funeral, and about how she told us Amanda's articles were going to expose how Junior had covered up the disappearance of a kid from Extended Families. I told him how David was sure Junior Pierson was selling drugs, about the cash going to local business, and about the guy at Freddie's hotel, and then I remembered the number. "When I was in Freddie's trailer, I got a number from his redial." I said. I went to the bedroom and retrieved the scrap of newspaper with the number on it. "This number belongs to the last person Freddie called." I handed it to John. "Should we call it?"

John looked at me with concern. "No," he said, "let's just find out who it belongs to." He made a phone call, asking the person on the other end if he would look up a number for him. He read the guy the number, and within a minute was writing down the information. He thanked the person and hung up. "It belongs to a place called National Custom Gunsmith. Address in east Cleveland."

"I guess Freddie knew he was in danger." Jessie said.

"Maybe," John said, "maybe not. We don't know why he called this place -which is why I'm going to see what I can find out about it. And we're gonna go over the surveillance footage from the gates the day Becky Pierson was murdered. I mean the whole day, twenty four hours back from the shooting. I backed up all the footage from that day onto disks for the detectives, I have copies at work."

"What are we looking for?" I asked.

"Gretchen Salle." He said. "If she thought Junior killed her girlfriend that means she had a reason to go after Junior."

"She didn't seem like a killer." Jessie said. "And why would she kill Becky?"

"I don't know." John said. "Maybe by mistake. She botched her first attempt at revenge with Junior, but was successful with Freddie. She's getting better and she thinks she can kill with impunity because she's got the perfect fall guy. She's gonna try to hit Junior again to finish the job. That's gotta be her next move."

"We'd better call Reyes and Borgano." I said. "I doubt they even know who Gretchen is."

"That would be one way to handle it." John said.

"You had something else in mind?"

"Cops don't like partisans. And they especially don't like partisans who are on the side of their chief suspect in a murder investigation. Coming to them with a theory, no matter how plausible, would probably just bring their suspicion down on us, and I'm not sure we could stand up to it."

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked.

"I mean that if you know where David Telano is and you're helping him, you could wind up in jail." He saw that Jess was about to protest, so he held his hand up and continued. "This is serious Jess. I know, I know, you just talked to him on the phone a couple of times. But if that weren't true, and you had been helping him, then going to the police would be pretty stupid unless you had something more concrete than theories to give them. Hopefully we'll have video proving she was in Lakeview the night of the murder. That's a good first step, but we're going to need more than that."

"Like what?" I asked.

"I'd say she probably intends to finish what she started with Junior before the police find David. One of us had better be watching her at all times starting immediately, then when she tries to get to Junior we alert the authorities anonymously. Unless she tries to do it in Lakeview, in which case Ben and I swoop in to save the day and become the Guardian Security Agents of the century."

This was a side of John I had never seen before. "When do we start?" I asked.

"Tonight." He said. "Let's hope she isn't killing the bastard right now as we speak."

"Hang on." Jessie said. "Gretchen Salle's girlfriend was murdered. If I were her I'd want to kill Junior too. How can we just feed her to the wolves? What she's doing is kinda right."

"She's trying to feed David to the wolves." I said.

"That's true." John said. "And what about Becky Pierson? She didn't do anything." He took a sip of coffee. "Anyway, if Gretchen went down the cops would figure out that Junior killed Amanda, 'cause that's what started the whole thing. He would go down too. Hell, Gretchen might wind up getting a slap on the wrist if she could find a good lawyer. She could plead it down to ten or twelve years -she only killed one innocent person. Freddie Divos was a bad bastard who had it coming."

Gretchen Salle did not appear on any of the surveillance footage. John had dropped off the DVDs and gone to see what he could find out about National Custom Gunsmith and Gretchen Salle. Jessie and I watched hour upon hour of footage, mostly in fast forward until we saw something promising, at which point we would back it up and watch it again at regular speed. We were inevitably disappointed. The whole exercise was very tedious and made Jessie pine for a bong hit. Getting high looked pretty good to me too, so we went through the routine of calling all the people we knew who sold or smoked weed, but only found everybody with the same complaint. It was an unprecedented weed shortage.

When John came back later that afternoon he was disappointed to hear that we hadn't spotted Gretchen on the videos. "I got her address." He said. "So I'll start watching her right away. We'll do it in shifts."

"What about the gun place?" Jessie asked.

"Oh it's an interesting place with an interesting owner. I'm not sure how it's connected to Freddie, but I think we can find out."

"How?" I asked.

"You're going to go over there tomorrow." He said. "You're going to buy a gun."

# NINETEEN

We set up a schedule for who was going to watch Gretchen over the next few days. John watched her that first night, and then it was Jessie's turn on Monday morning. I rode out with her early. Gretchen Salle lived in a house on Wilbur Avenue, just outside a new subdivision adjacent to the Shoreston Mall and it's immense parking lot. Her closest neighbor was a boat repair place across the street that looked like it was in need of some repair itself. Her place was a colonial two-story house, painted light blue with white trim. A neat garden grew around the lawn and there were two old bicycles on her porch. John's car was next to the boat repair place, and we pulled up behind him. He got out and walked back to Jessie's open window. "She got in a little after eleven." He told us. "I think she's still asleep. The Honda's hers. If she goes anywhere near Lakeview or Everett, or anywhere you think Junior Pierson might be, call me."

"Jesus Pap, you look terrible." Jessie said.

"Thanks."

"You shouldn't stay up all night. It's not healthy."

"I used to do it all the time when I was on the force," he said, "and for long periods of time. One night's not gonna kill me."

I said goodbye to Jess and got out of the car. John gave me his keys and told me to drive his car. We went to a Bob's Big Boy near his place and ordered breakfast. I had coffee, he had juice. He told me the gun place opened at eleven and gave me four hundred dollars cash. "That should be enough to get you a decent piece." He said. "The owner is named Dennis Reston, and you should ask for him. Don't pump the guy for information, just mention that you were a friend of Freddie's and see how he reacts. You're there to buy a handgun, that's all. If we get nothing else out of it, at least you'll have the gun. Consider it a gift from me." I thanked him and wondered why he seemed nervous. We ate our food and talked about people in Lakeview and the employees at the Guardian Security Agency.

National Custom Gunsmith looked pretty run down. The gray paint was peeling, and the G in the sign was crooked. The glass door had iron bars on the inside, and there was a sign that said that the store was under twenty-four-hour surveillance. A loud electronic _ping_ sounded as I opened the door. The place smelled like oil. There were racks of rifles along the wall and display cases showing off a huge variety of handguns. One case held knives, brass knuckles, pepper spray and Tasers. There was a radio on, tuned to a classic rock station, and the wall behind the cash register was crowded with political bumper stickers, all right-wing.

I'd been in the store a few minutes before an old guy came from the back room and asked if he could help me. He was stooped-over and gray, and looked like a heavy smoker. "Is Dennis here?" I asked.

"Who're you?"

"I'm Ben." I said. "A friend of a friend."

"What Friend?" He asked.

"Freddie Divos told me about this place. He said Dennis would set me up with a handgun."

"Shame what happened to Freddie." The guy said, shaking his head.

"Yeah." I said.

"Wait here." He told me. He turned and slouched into the back room. I looked at some handguns and then at some pictures taped to the inside of the glass counter near the cash register. They were of an older, tough-looking guy posing with dead animals in various locales. He didn't just hunt dear, there were pictures of him holding birds, kneeling next to a moose carcass, and on a boat next to a shark. In one picture he was holding a long snake that didn't look dead, it was twisting up, trying to bite him, and the background looked like jungle. The picture that stood out from the rest was him in desert camo, standing with his arms crossed over a black plastic body bag. It looked like he was on a runway, you could see part of a plane and some mountains in the background. This had to be Dennis Reston.

The man from the pictures came from the back room wiping his hands on a small towel. "Who're you?" He asked.

"Ben Perkins." I said. "You must be Dennis."

He flipped the towel over his shoulder and leaned on the counter. "You knew Freddie how?"

"From Lakeview." I said. "I'm a security agent there."

"Heck of a job you guys have been doing lately." He said. "Now what can I do for you?"

"I want to buy a handgun."

"Your first one?"

"Yeah."

"You looking to take out David Telano if he comes back to Lakeview?"

"Nah, nothing like that." I said. "I just need it for self protection, and to exercise my second amendment right." I nodded toward a framed sign that had the second amendment written out in biblical looking script.

"Alright. What kind would you like?" He spread his hands as if he were presenting a meal he had prepared.

"I really don't know much about guns." I said. "Something loud and powerful, but I don't have much money."

"How much were you looking to spend?'

"Four hundred is my limit." I said.

"They don't pay very much over at Lakeview huh?"

"No."

He pulled out a couple of guns in my price range. He went down the differences in them and it was mostly incomprehensible to me. It reminded me of how kids I knew in school would talk about Dungeons and Dragons. The gist of it was that guns were equal in performance, but looked and felt different. When he was finished I held each gun and pondered the decision. "The Makarov." I said.

He smiled. "What made you chose that one?"

"It's heavier and it looks better."

"Yeah," he said, "It looks real cool. The Mak is reliable and inexpensive. I added the rubber grips and put different sights on there -Novaks. It oughta shoot straight. I'll throw in a box of ammo." He pulled out a box and showed me how to load the magazine. "You ever shoot before?"

"No." I said. "I used to have a pellet gun but that's not the same thing I guess."

"Didn't you have a father?"

"Yeah, of course, he just wasn't into guns."

"You'll want to find a range that's friendly for beginners. You'll need a couple of pointers before you feel comfortable."

He took the bullets out of the magazine and put them back in their box, and then put the gun back in its box and took it over to the cash register. It was three hundred and eighty seven dollars and twelve cents. He put the two boxes in a large gray bag and handed them to me. "What'd you say your name was?" He asked.

"Ben Perkins." I said. "Isn't there some kind of background check or a waiting period or something?"

He laughed.

On my way back to John's apartment I called Jess to see how the surveillance gig was going. "Boring as shit." She said. "You buy yourself a shiny new dick?"

"Yeah." I said. "But that was all I got out of it. He didn't seem particularly surprised that I was friend of Freddie's. Good thing too, 'cause the guy seemed like a real hard ass. Best not to fuck with."

"You should give that gun to Pap. He paid for it. I don't want the thing in our house."

"So what's Gretchen up to now?" I asked.

"She's home. Earlier she went to the liquor store and the Rite Aid, but she's been home for like two hours now... Did David get rid of his cell?"

"Yeah why?"

"Cause I was gonna call him." She said. "We gotta let him know about Gretchen. If he heard about his uncle he might think his last hope is gone. He might do something desperate. We should let him know we're on a new lead. You have the number for the Relna place?"

"You can't call him there." I said. "It's not safe."

"Then you have to go tell him as soon as possible."

"I don't work until tomorrow." I said.

"Okay tomorrow, I just hope he doesn't pull something before then. FUCK- I need a joint."

"Karen ever call?"

"No, I'm going to call her as soon as I get off with you." She said.

"You gotta be careful, you're gonna become a pest." I said. "Then no one's gonna want to help you, even if they do score."

"Oh shut up." She said. "You think Rolly's unhappy?"

I took a second to catch up. "Rolly the chimp? Uh, maybe, I don't spend a lot of time with him, so I couldn't say."

"Prisoners do it, you know. Human beings who're in jail will throw shit at the guards when they're pissed off about something. And Rolly's done it before. I just wonder what the psychology behind it is."

"Maybe he just likes to play with his shit." I said. "I don't think you should give a monkey too much psychological depth. Just be glad he isn't throwing it at you."

"He's a chimp." She said. "And I can say with absolute certainty that chimps possess psychological depth. Especially Rolly. He's been so depressed lately, but I don't know what's wrong."

"Maybe his chimp girlfriend left him." I said.

"Sheeba didn't leave him, believe me. They still go at it all the time. No, I don't think it has anything to do with their internal politics or whatever you want to call it." She took a deep breath. "I think he finally realized that he's stuck in a cage. God I hate my job."

"Join the club." I said. "I write parking tickets for a living."

"Why do you have to do that? Why do you make everything a competition? So okay, you win, your job is worse, but I still hate _my_ job, is that alright with you?"

"Sorry." I said. "I didn't mean-"

"I don't know why I stay, I really don't. It's a summer job, you know? For a kid. I'm not a kid anymore. Every once in a while a tourist will come in and say something like, 'oh, what a fun place to work' or 'what a great job you have'. I want to scream at them: I've been here for six years! The fun wore off a long time ago! I can't stand it, and then Rolly just stares at me you know? He's thinking, _you're the one who's keeping me here_. He's looking at me with this hatred, but he can't show it 'cause I'm the one who feeds him. It's like he's showing me this fake respect, like when we used to call Mr. Problis 'sir' in PE class."

"Jess, your pap's trying to call through." I said. "I should take it."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Don't be mad, I've got his car. I have to take it."

"Don't let me stop you." She said. I was going to try to smooth it over a little more but she hung up.

# TWENTY

John told me that James had called off and that I needed to cover his shift. "But it's my day off." I said.

"Hey if you don't like it take it up with your boss." He said. "Tell me about your encounter with Dennis Reston." I told him everything and apologized for the wasted money. "No, a gun is a good investment. It could save your life someday."

"Jessie said she didn't want it in the house." I said.

"They all say that. She doesn't mean it." He said. "Come pick me up and we'll go over to Lakeview together, I have to go in today too. George Loeffler wants to talk to me. We'll have to kill an hour or so before your shift starts."

"Could we just get over there early?" I asked. "I'm supposed to water the Relna's plants."

"Oh right." He said. "Your unauthorized side-job. I heard all about it."

The little room in the basement was starting to take on the hamster-cage smell, and David looked like he could use a shower. I told him his uncle was dead and they found his body in the lake. "I know already, I saw it on TV." David said.

"So I guess you heard your mom's little speech to the reporters." I said. "She wants you to turn yourself in."

"Fuck that. The cops probably told her to say that. My mom loves me. She wants me to get away." He said.

"I don't think there's any getting away from this. I think you're gonna have to stick around and deal with it."

"No, I'm going to Costa Rica –it's cheap down there. I'll get a new name, a job, maybe find a nice girl and a little apartment. I can really do it, I've been thinking about it for two days."

"What about the border?" I asked. "That's where they caught that Peterson guy who killed his wife. And he dyed his hair blonde just like you, only it didn't fool anybody."

"I won't use one of the border checkpoints." He said. "That Peterson guy was a square. A white boy. He probably never even had a speeding ticket before he killed his wife. No, I'll use a coyote. They're all over the place down there. Go to Arizona or southern Texas and you can find someone to take you across. It's gotta be easier going _into_ Mexico. You don't have a bunch of racist cowboys patrolling when you get there. So I sneak into Mexico and I make my way down to Costa Rica. You can come visit me, we'll hang out on the beach."

"And how do you pay for this adventure?" I asked.

"I steal." He said. "I knew I'd been practicing for something. I rob and steal my way to Costa Rica and then I go straight."

"What if you could clear your name? Wouldn't that be better?"

"The cops think I killed my uncle now too. That's three murders they think I did. How'm I supposed to clear my name?"

"Look, we've got professional help now." I said. "Jessie's pap. He used to be a cop, he's solved all kinds of cases. We told him everything except that we're hiding you, and he has no doubt whatsoever that Gretchen Salle is behind it. After Junior and your uncle killed Amanda Porgett, Gretchen went crazy and tried to kill Junior, but only wounded him, and accidentally killed his wife. Then she went after Freddie. She's out for revenge, and she thinks she's gonna get away with it 'cause the cops are after you. We're tailing her non-stop -Jessie's watching her right this second. So when she goes to finish the job on Junior, which is her obvious next move, we call the cops and they catch her red-handed. Then you can turn yourself in."

"This cop, Jessie's grandfather, you think he could figure out where I am?"

"No, of course not." I said. "We told him we'd just talked to you on the phone."

"And he really thinks this Gretchen woman did all that? Two murders? A woman?"

"She's a lesbian."

"So the plan is that the cops catch her going after Junior -but what if she manages to slip away before they get there? I could wind up getting blamed for that too. It would only be you and Jessie sticking up for me, and the cops know we're friends. I'm thinking Costa Rica looks pretty good."

"Don't be stupid David, they'd catch you." I said. "I mean, it's a nice fantasy, going down there and living on the beach and everything, but real life isn't like that. You'd get caught before you ever got there, and even if you did make it to Costa Rica somehow, someone would recognize you and turn you in. You've got John Walsh after you don't forget."

"Yeah. He called me a scumbag." David said. "This thing you're working on now feels sketchy though. It all depends on her getting caught in the act, and she might be pretty smart. She might go after Junior in some way where she can't get caught. It might happen all of a sudden... If I knew she was going to do it, and I knew _when_ , then I could turn myself in just before. I'd have the best alibi in the world. Not even the Shoreston PD can charge you with a crime you're supposed to have committed while you were in one of their cells."

"That's true." I said. "But we don't know when she's going to do it. She might be on her way over there right now."

"If I get busted first, it's like a fail-safe." He said. "Even if she gets away, they still know _I_ didn't do it."

"So we wait until we're _sure_ she's about to do it, and then you turn yourself in immediately."

"See, this is why you haven't gotten ahead in life." He said. "You can't see an excellent opportunity when it's right in front of you."

"What are you talking about?"

" _You're_ gonna bust me," he said with a smile, "and redeem yourself for letting me get away. You'll come out of this smelling like a rose, and this way I don't get shot down by some pig when I'm trying to turn myself in."

"Yeah, but I probably won't be around." I said. "If I'm the one following her when she makes her move, I might be way the hell down in the Cuyahoga Valley in Everett. That's where Junior's staying right now."

"Man, I'm trying to help you. You helped me, and now I'm trying to help you. You gonna let me do that?"

"If I happen to be in Lakeview." I said. "But otherwise, you just turn yourself in, okay? Just walk right into the main guardhouse and say, _here I am_." I looked at the ashtray and noticed a half smoked mini-cigar, but it took me a minute to figure out why it bothered me. David was saying something but I interrupted him. "Is this a Black-and-Mild?" I asked picking it up. "It is. I didn't get you any Black-and-Milds. Where the fuck did you get this?"

"There were some here." He said. "I figured what the hell."

"You expect me to believe that Phil Relna smokes Black-and-Milds? Phil's a millionaire man, if he wants a cigar he's smoking some fancy shit. Come on, where'd you get it?"

"I'm telling you, I found it." He said. "There was half a pack, right under the bar. I just decided to take 'em. Seriously."

I thought about it. "You know you can't leave here, right? You'll get caught."

"You think I left? What the hell? Those were here, I'm not gonna take off and start walking around the neighborhood looking for smokes. You don't believe me? What the fuck?"

"Someone could've brought them to you." I said. "Does anyone else know you're here?"

"No man, come on."

"It just seems weird that Phil would have those, that's all. It's odd."

"You ever smoked one? They're pleasant. They're real nice, they're not just for poor people."

"I'm a little paranoid." I said. "This isn't shoplifting, if we get caught there's some serious life-altering consequences now."

"I know." He said. "It's serious. It's not like stealing some sneakers."

"Yeah, that's a perfect example of why I'm paranoid." I said. "Because it wasn't thought out at all. We had to walk home a different route from school for a year after that, until that guy stopped working there."

"A small price to pay for Air Jordans." He said. "Remember how he chased us? Like some middle aged dude getting four fifty an hour is going to catch a couple of kids in new sneaks running for their freedom."

I had to laugh. "You know they changed store policy after that. They only let you try on one shoe at a time from then on." I shook my head. "And don't forget that not all our shoplifting ventures were so successful. Even with the sneakers -I had to hide them from my mom. Every damn day leaving for school with the stolen shoes in my backpack, changing out of my old kicks on the corner. And then finally my mom breaks down and says, you know, 'those shoes are looking pretty tired, lets go down to the footlocker and get you a new pair.'" David laughed. "It wasn't funny man, I kept trying to put it off, and she couldn't understand why I didn't want new shoes all of a sudden."

"But you looked good in those." David said. "I remember being jealous, thinking _why did I get the blue ones? I shoulda got all black like Ben_."

"I thought the same thing about yours." I said. "We were some punk-ass kids back then. We're all grown up now, huh?"

"I don't feel it." He said. "I feel exactly the same as I did back then. I mean on the inside. I always thought that when I hit a certain age I'd just turn into an adult or something. Like all of a sudden I'd be listening to Sting, you know?"

"You'll still be listening to NWA when you're eighty."

"Seriously. I still want adventure and action and shit, just like when I was thirteen. That's probably why I'm in this basement." He said. "Did you ever wind up going to Footlocker with your mom?"

"Yeah, but the guy wasn't working. I got lucky." I said.

"Yeah," David said. "That's what we need now. Luck."

"Hey David? You didn't kill your uncle did you?"

"No, man, no." He said.

I told him I'd be back in a couple of days with groceries, and he gave me some requests. He made me swear that as soon as I knew that Gretchen was making her move I would call him. "I can hear the machine from here, so I'll be listening for it." He said.

I was thinking about old times as I walked up to the guardhouse to sign in and start my shift. I was almost in a good mood as I came into the room and noticed that George Loeffler was in John's office. As soon as he saw me John called me in. I could tell right away that the mood was serious. He shut the door behind me and took his seat behind the desk where he had an open folder in front of him. Mr. Loeffler sat in an armchair against the wall, and the only other chair in the room was facing John. He told me to sit. "Ben, we have a problem." He said. He was using his official head-of-the-Guardian-Security-Agency voice for George's benefit. He didn't sound like Jessie's pap anymore. "Mr. Loeffler here was just telling me about a troubling conversation he had with a Cleveland Police detective concerning David Telano. It appears that you and he were arrested together on some kind of petty theft charge."

"Shoplifting." I said. "We were kids."

"1993, that would make you what? Sixteen? Seventeen at the time?" John asked.

"Sixteen." I said.

"In any case this is troubling news." Mr. Loeffler said, looking directly at me. "We have to have faith in the honesty and integrity of all of our employees. This, frankly, casts doubt on yours."

"Hey I was just a kid." I repeated. "Who hasn't shoplifted once or twice, right? It really wasn't a big deal."

"You signed an application for employment that asked if you'd ever been arrested." Mr. Loeffler said in a quiet, calm voice. "You stated that you had not. You signed that document knowing it was false, which in itself is a crime."

"It was expunged from my record because I was a minor." I argued. "My lawyer told me it was like it never happened. I didn't think I had to divulge that on your application. I didn't even get in that much trouble for it-"

"The application did not ask if your record was clean," he said, "it asked if you had ever been arrested. You _had_ been arrested and you stated that you had not. You signed a false statement." I tried to interrupt, but he held up his hand and continued. "And let's not overlook the fact that the person you were arrested with has killed three people."

"I told you we were friends." I said. "I was completely honest about that. I thought we had an understanding Mr. Loeffler."

"Yes I thought we did too. Certainly knowing someone and being a partner with them in criminal activity are two very different things. Detective Borgano thinks that you're involved somehow in the crimes committed in Lakeview. Obviously we can't keep you here with this cloud of suspicion hanging over your head."

"Wait a minute, is this because of the old shoplifting thing, or because of Borgano's suspicions? You have to pick one. I _am_ being fired, right? But you can't fire me based on someone's suspicion. And you can't fire me over something that was expunged from my record back in the early nineties for god's sake. It's silly."

"Nobody said we were firing you." Mr. Loffler said. "But you _did_ lie on your application. We can't overlook that."

"Wait a minute, I think the application asked if I'd ever been charged with a felony. I'd like to see that application."

Mr. Loeffler cleared his throat. "We're not obligated to show you anything." He said.

"Hey, I'm going to call a lawyer." I said as calmly as I could. "What's those guys on TV? _Benson and Crewe get money for you_? They do employment disputes. I can fight this."

"You don't need a lawyer." John said, silently communicating that I should cool down. "You're not being fired. We have the right to put you on suspension at any time for any reason. It's in your contract. You will be suspended without pay until the matter with David Telano is brought to a close at which point we will consider your reinstatement. If what you're telling us is the truth, you have nothing to worry about. Of course if any charges are brought against you or you are found to have been involved in any way, your employment with the Guardian Security Agency will be immediately terminated. Do you understand?"

"I wasn't even supposed to come in today. This is my day off."

"He asked you a question." Mr. Loeffler said. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I guess so." I said.

# TWENTY-ONE

"They can't fire you based on one cop's suspicion." Jessie said. I called her immediately after leaving Lakeview. Her anger was making me feel better. "And Borgano can't go making wild accusations about you to your boss. That's slander. He's spreading lies about you. It's illegal."

"Jessie, they're not lies. I am helping David. His suspicion is correct."

"They don't know that. And until they prove it, you're innocent. What does Pap say?"

"He says that I might be reinstated when David is arrested if it turns out I'm not involved. They're calling it a suspension without pay."

"Why didn't he stick up for you?"

"I don't know." I said. "You can ask him yourself when you pick him up. I've still got his car." I explained that we were going to have to trade cars and that she would have to pick up Pap in his car and get a ride home from him.

"Oh I'll ask him alright, don't worry."

"Jess, it's really not his fault. He works for Loeffler and Pierson, he's got to do what they say. It's not really up to him."

"Jesus, you're pretty philosophical about it." She said. "They just fired you Ben..."

"I was suspended without pay." I said.

"Oh I'm sorry, big distinction. You need to get pissed off here -what's wrong with you? Don't you see that you won't be getting a paycheck anymore? No paycheck means no rent, no food, no car payments. We're fucked. They just inflicted physical violence against us and you're being philosophical about it. If someone was punching you in the face I hope you would at least put your fists up to make it look like you might try to fight back."

"Cool-out Jess, damn." I said. "This'll probably all blow over in a couple of weeks. And even if it doesn't, I can get another job, I'll wash dishes or something. And it's not your fuckin' Pap's fault either, so don't go yelling at him. He was nice enough to get me the job in the first place, I don't want him to think we're ungrateful just because it didn't last forever." I took a deep breath. "I need something to take my mind of this shit. What's going on with Gretchen?"

She told me that she was waiting for Gretchen to come out of the Shoreston public library and I told her I'd meet her there to take over the rest of her surveillance shift so she could bring Pap his car.

We had to make the exchange quickly because Gretchen was leaving the library, walking to the parking lot when I pulled up. I followed her on a short drive from the library to a sporting goods store, where she spent about twenty minutes shopping and emerged with a bag. She got back on the road again, and I followed, careful to keep a car or two between us whenever possible.

Her next stop was a liquor store, where she picked up what I assumed to be a bottle of wine in a silver gift bag. I followed her onto route twenty, relieved to be in some traffic where I wouldn't be noticed. It was early in the evening, the sun had gone down but it wasn't quite dark yet.

She took an off-ramp without using her turn signal, and then turned down a residential street and parked in front of a one-story white house. It looked like all the other one-story white houses in the area. I drove past and watched in my rearview mirror as she walked up to the house, holding the wine. I went to the end of the next block, and made a u-turn and parked facing the house. I turned my headlights off and sat.

Almost fifteen minutes later, a maroon Chevy pulled up, and parked behind Gretchen's car. Two women got out, one of them holding a bouquet of flowers. They walked up to the house close together, maybe holding hands. Someone opened the door for them before they'd even knocked. My phone was vibrating. It was John. "I'm sorry Ben, it was out of my hands." He said.

"That's okay," I said, "I don't blame you."

"This detective has it in for you, I don't know why."

"It's okay really. I was never in love with the job anyway. It was always just a paycheck to me. That's the only thing I'll miss -the paycheck."

"You're not fired yet." He said. "I told Jessie the same thing, you could get your job back when David is caught."

"Doesn't seem likely."

"Well, on the bright side, you can spend more time doing surveillance. Are you with the object of our extra-curricular investigation?"

"Yeah, I'm on her." I said.

"Any news?"

I told him about the sporting goods store and how she was at a house off route twenty near the CostCo. "I think it's a dinner party, she brought wine and some other people went in." I said.

"Did she leave the bag from the sporting goods store in her car?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess." I said.

"Well? Don't you want to know what's in there?"

"You mean you want me to bust into her car?"

"No, don't _bust in_ , just go see if she left a door unlocked or a window down. Hell, you might be able to see what's in the bag _through_ the window. Just go check it out." He said. "Is it a new car? When she got out did she beep it with a remote?"

"No." I said.

"There you go, she probably left one of the doors unlocked then." He said. "See if it's ammo. She might be making her move soon if she's out buying up cartons of ammo. She's in the house drinking wine and eating dinner, you have at least an hour."

"I guess I could take a look." I said.

"Just be quiet about it." He said. "And hey, call me back and let me know what you find. After I drop Jessie off I'm going to get some food and then I'll come take the night shift. I'll need directions."

I said alright and shut the phone, thinking that with my luck I'd get arrested for trying to break into her car. I left my keys in the ignition and walked quickly up the street to Gretchen's Honda. It was a quiet street, so I wasn't worried about anyone coming by. Her driver's side door was locked, and the rear door on that side too, so I walked around the car, glancing over at the house to see if anyone was at the window. I didn't see anyone so I tried both doors on that side but they were also locked. I looked through the rear-window at the bag sitting on the back seat. It could be boxes of ammo or a baseball glove or fishing wire or anything. I couldn't tell.

I was about to go back to my car, when I had the idea to try the hatchback. It took me a long time to find the handle, but when I did, it opened right up. The light went on in her car and I looked at the house again, but didn't see any indication that I was being watched. I climbed in and leaned over the back seat to reach the bag. There was dark cloth in there, and I had to actually remove the stuff before I realized that it was ski masks and gloves. Four masks and four pairs of gloves. I shoved them back in the bag and got out of there. The hatchback made a loud thunk when I closed it, which sent me ducking behind the car.

I peeked around the bumper at the house, but the front window remained empty. I stood and began walking casually toward my car. A pair of headlights was coming toward me from up the street. The car was about two blocks away, and I knew that if I kept going they would see me. For some reason the sight of those ski masks had freaked me out and I was in a nervous state. I thought they might've seen me ducking behind the car, and it would be bad if they got a good look at me. I thought they would know I was spying.

When I got to the end of the block, instead of crossing the street to my car, I turned right and walked away from it. I was about halfway down the block when I heard the car pass behind me. I stopped and exhaled. It was a warm night and there was a particularly loud cricket nearby. I looked over and noticed an alley that cut the block in half and ran right behind the house Gretchen and the two women had gone into. It ran the whole length of the street. Before I had time to think about it, my legs were carrying me down the alley toward the back of the house.

There were small garages on either side of the alley and some fences around what I imagined were nice, suburban back yards, but the house that Gretchen had gone into didn't have a garage. It had two parking places on a patch of gravel, with a dented Toyota Carolla parked in one of the spots. There were cement stairs with a rusty metal handrail that led up to a small yard surrounded by bushes. An old tree in the corner of the yard had branches that stretched out over the Toyota. I went halfway up the steps and looked at the back of the house. There was an enclosed back porch with a garden next to it underneath a lit up window. I thought the window was probably to a den. I could see the blue light from a TV flickering in the corner above a bookshelf. I stood there for a while and saw no sign of people. I figured they were probably in an adjacent dining room, eating.

I took a deep breath and went up the stairs into the back yard. I crouched down and ran to the enclosed porch, where I held myself against the vinyl siding so I couldn't be seen from any of the windows. I wanted to look into the den, but from my low, crouching position I couldn't see any more than I had from the steps. I slowly started to stand and before I was upright I saw three female faces looking my direction. I froze and it took me a moment to see that they weren't looking at me, but at a TV. I slowly crouched down again and fought an urge to run.

The thing that kept me there was that if I could get to the other side of the window I could see what they were watching. Maybe it was just _The L Word_ , or _Desperate Housewives_ , or something, but I was curious. I ducked down and slipped over to the other side of the window.

When I saw naked flesh on the screen my first thought was that they were watching porn, but nothing sexual seemed to be happening. The image was being reversed, but it was clearly a nude man in some kind of crouching position. When it started playing again, I could see that it was Freddie Divos. He was handcuffed to a grate in a cement floor, and his ankles were duct-taped to his wrists, holding him in an awkward position. He was hit with a spray of water from off camera, and he yelled, red-faced, before he went into a prolonged coughing fit. I couldn't hear what he had said, because of an air conditioner close by that was humming loudly. I'm not sure I could've heard anyway.

Freddie Divos seemed to be talking at a rapid pace while I got my phone out. I looked away from the TV as I flipped it open and navigated to the Pix and Flix screen. I selected Make Video, and held the phone up in front of me. I got as close as I could and hit the button to record. A 'Video Memory Full' sign came on the screen. They were reversing the tape again as I switched to the picture function. I thought he must've been saying something important at that point in the tape. I held the phone up and got the TV in the frame and hit the button. There was a loud, fake shutter sound as it took the picture. I plastered myself against the wall and waited.

After awhile I decided that they hadn't heard. The air conditioner was pretty loud. I was turning down the volume on my phone so I could take more pictures when it started vibrating in my hand. It startled me, and sent me crouch-running back to the alley. I was almost back to the street before I looked at the phone and saw that it was John calling. I flipped it open, breathing hard from the running and the excitement. "You were right John, you were so right. Everything you said was right. It's her, she did it. "

"What did you find in there?" He asked.

I told him about the ski masks and the alley and the video as I walked back to my car. "I think I have a good picture of it on my phone." I said. "That's hard evidence right? David could use that in court couldn't he?"

"Is Gretchen on the screen with Freddie?" He asked.

"No." I said, getting into my car.

"Did you hear any of what they were saying?"

"No not at all." I said. "I was right near an air conditioner, and the window was closed."

"Then I'm not sure how useful your phone picture's going to be." He said. "At least in proving Gretchen did it. Now if we could somehow get our hands on that tape and look at the whole thing. Then we might really have something. The important thing is that now we know a video exists. This is good news. You done good kid, you coulda been a gumshoe."

My phone was buzzing again, and I looked and saw that it was Jessie. "I'm getting a call from Jess." I said.

"Okay, but call me back." He said. "When I come to take the night shift I'll need directions."

I hung up with John and flipped the phone open again. "You feel like driving to Pittsburgh tonight?" Jessie asked.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Sara met this guy online who sells weed by the ounce. He lives in Pittsburgh. We can drive down there tonight and pick it up. It's not that far."

"It's like four hours!" I said. "There and back it's over eight, plus however long it takes while we're there. Even if we left right now, we wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning."

"Don't exaggerate, we could be back before the sun comes up. This guy's supposed to have really good weed."

"It's probably a fucking cop." I said. " _Sara met him online_. Shit, you can't be serious."

"Of course I'm serious."

"You'd be lucky if it was a cop, it's probably some psycho. No, no way, not with all this shit going on."

"It's not like you have to go to work tomorrow." She said.

"No, but _you_ do." I said. "Why doesn't Sara get her boyfriend to drive her? We could just buy some when she gets back -that is if she doesn't get thrown in jail or chopped up by the next Jeffrey Dhalmer."

"Her boyfriend's still on house arrest, I told you." She said. "You never listen to a word I say."

"Look, Jess, Gretchen's gonna make her move any second. She definitely killed Freddie. I have proof now. Well, not legal proof, but proof enough for us." I said. "What if she goes to kill Junior and we're in Pittsburgh trying to score weed? We have to be here."

"Okay, I'll go without you." She said. "Don't take forever getting the car back here, Sara and I want to leave as soon as possible."

# TWENTY-TWO

Jessie left and I spent the night at home watching late night talk shows, waiting for my Tylenol PMs to kick in so I could get some sleep. I didn't remember falling asleep. The phone rang at a little after nine AM. It was John. "What the hell's going on? Jessie was supposed to take over an hour ago." He said.

"Sorry." I sat up on the couch and rubbed my eyes. "Any news?"

"No, she left her friend's house and drove herself home, swerving a little and going slow. That's it." He said.

"You been up this whole time?"

"I've been dosing on and off, but now I need a bed. What are you doing? Where's Jess?"

"Well, Jessie's not here right now, she shoulda been back. I'll call her."

"Where is she?" He asked.

"She drove to Pittsburgh last night."

"What the hell for?"

"You don't want to know." I said. "I'll call you back okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." He said. I hung up and got up off the couch. I got the coffee brewing and called Jessie's phone. Sara answered.

"Can you put Jess on?" I said.

"No, she's driving, she doesn't want to talk and drive at the same time."

"Where are you guys?" I asked.

"We just left Pittsburgh. We should be back in a few hours."

"A few hours? What took so long?"

"We hit a couple of snags in the 'Burgh."

"Just out of curiosity, was the trip a success?" I asked.

"Kind of." She said. "Half and half. I can't explain over the phone."

"Alright." I said. "Don't let her fall asleep at the wheel alright? Keep her up."

"Yeah okay." Sara said.

Jessie got home at quarter to two, and I found out what Sara meant calling the trip half-successful. Apparently they had gotten to Little Billy's apartment -that was the guy's name- but he wasn't there and they had to wait in the car for over an hour for him to get home. When he finally arrived, he was drunk -he'd been at some after-hours club. He told them he'd sold the last of what he'd had and he wasn't getting any more in until the following week.

"He didn't even apologize." Jessie said. "He just told us to come back next week. So standing right there in front of his apartment Sara just started going off. She was yelling at him, calling him a liar, 'cause he told her in a text that he could hook her up that night and now we'd come all the way down there for nothing. He kept telling her to be quiet or the neighbors would hear, but Sara was pissed. So the guy made some phone calls, but keep in mind it was like quarter to four in the morning and everyone was sleeping except this one guy -but this guy didn't even have any weed, just 'shrooms. I was like 'fuck it, let's go home' but Sara said that at least this way we could get something out of the trip. So we took this Little Billy freak way the hell up some hill, to this real bad neighborhood, and we bought a half ounce of shrooms off this scary tweaker named Pat."

"Sounds like a wonderful trip. I'm sorry I missed it." I said.

"Don't be a dick." She said. "You were right, isn't that enough?"

"I guess so. You missed your shift watching Gretchen."

"Yeah." She said. "And I have to be at work in ten minutes. How'm I supposed to work all day on no sleep?"

"You know your pap has been out there all night and all day. He's probably exhausted."

"Him and me both." She said, showing no sign of guilt. I drove her to the PFPFP and after I'd dropped her off I called John to tell him I was on my way.

"Good, it's getting interesting." He said. "She went back to that house off twenty and picked someone up. I'm not sure where they're going now, I think they're heading toward Cleveland. Get on the road and I'll let you know where we wind up."

I was on route 6 almost to Cleveland when John called. "Yes, this is very interesting indeed." He said. "We're in front of National Custom Gunsmith."

"Really? Did they go in there?" I asked.

"No, that's what's strange." He said. "It looks like they're doing surveillance on the place. They're not very good at it either. They're just sitting there with binoculars watching the front door. Pretty obvious. And I'm up the block watching them."

"I wonder if anyone's watching you." I said.

"Actually, that's a good question. When you're talking about Dennis Reston it's really not that far fetched."

"Why?" I asked. "You never told me what you found out about him."

"He didn't bite when you went in there talking about Freddie, so I didn't think he had anything to do with all this." He said. "I guess I was wrong. Dennis Reston is a local guy who was a spook in the eighties. CIA supposedly. Anyway, he retired a few years back and opened the gun shop."

"Why would Gretchen be watching his shop?" I asked.

"I haven't got a clue." He said.

"You still tired?"

"I'm getting a second wind. I want to know what these ladies think they're up to here. I mean Gretchen's got at least three of her friends involved. I wonder why she needs all that manpower?"

"You mean woman power." I said. I pulled off the freeway and stopped at a traffic light. "The thing that seemed weird to me was, you know, the casual nature of the whole thing. I mean there they were, these woman sitting around a living room, watching this guy getting tortured on the TV, and they were drinking wine. Like it was American Idol or something."

"That's cold-blooded alright. I wonder where that video is now."

"You gotta figure it's either at the house off route twenty or at Gretchen's place." I said.

"Those are two places we know are empty right at this very moment." John said. "As soon as you get here, I think I'll go on a little easter-egg hunt."

"Sounds like a good idea." I was pulling up behind him. "That's me, I'll take over from here. Be sure and let me know if you find that video."

He told me he would and that he was going to search Gretchen's place first. "If you even think they might be headed toward that general area, call me. I'm counting on you." He said. I told him not to worry.

Looking out my passenger window, I could see Gretchen's Honda between two trees and the side of a Goodwill store. They were watching the gun shop alright. It wasn't long before I saw the Honda's taillights flash and they were moving. I put my car in gear and went after them.

After they'd made a couple of turns I realized that they were following a dark silver Cadillac Escalade with a red W sticker on the back window. Eventually the Caddy pulled into a strip mall and Gretchen parked on the street in front. I made a quick left down a side street and, when I was sure I was out of sight, turned around and came back down, parking in a place where I could see Gretchen's Honda and had a clear view of the strip mall. Dennis Reston had gotten out of the Escalade. He was wearing tan slacks and an Orioles baseball cap. He went into a coffee shop called The Sipping Point.

He could be seen through the window ordering his drink and then waiting for it. He flipped through the leftover newspapers that were in a basket by the front door, then pulled out a section and began looking it over. When his drink was ready he tucked the paper under his arm and left the shop.

He pulled out of the lot and turned right, going in the opposite direction than he had come, headed back toward Main. Gretchen's taillights flashed and she turned and went after the Escalade.

Dennis Reston led Gretchen and me on a trip down into the flats, past the trendy nightclub area and into a run down neighborhood that I'd never been to before. He made so many turns that I considered the possibility that he was trying to lose her, but then he finally pulled into a place called Warren Auto-Body. It had an illuminated yellow plastic sign on a pillar in the corner of a small lot. There were a couple of tow trucks parked half on the sidewalk, and the lot had a few cars in it. The garage doors were open and there was a car visible on one of the lifts inside.

When the Cadillac pulled in, Gretchen slowed down and crept past the place and then made her first left up a narrow street of row-houses on a hill. I stepped on the gas and accelerated past the street where she had turned. At the first opportunity I turned right and then right again, headed toward the back of the auto-body shop. I made another right and pulled to the curb on the street next to the shop. I kept rolling until I could see the front of Dennis Reston's SUV, and then I parked and put down my window. It was hot and I was starting to sweat.

I sat there for over three hours, going crazy with the heat and wondering what the hell the guy could be doing. I tried to distract myself from the boredom with right-wing talk radio. I was about to call Jess when my phone rang. It was John. "So far no luck." He said. "She did have some items of interest in a box under her bed, but I couldn't find the video or anything pertaining to anything."

"How'd you get in?"

"One of the windows in her basement needed some encouragement, but it let me in eventually. I didn't have to break anything. How about you? What's your twenty?"

"We're down in the flats in front of an auto-body shop. We followed Dennis Reston down here and we've been sitting here for a really long time. He's driving a silver Escalade."

"Warren Auto-Body?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"He owns it." John said. "He also owns a textile wholesalers up near the train station. How long have you been there?"

"Three hours or so."

"Are you sure he's still in there? Can you see him?"

"No," I said, "I can see his car."

"He coulda switched cars. Can you see Gretchen and her friend?"

"No, but I can see the street they're on. If the guy left the shop in either direction they'd have to come down the street and I'd see them." I explained. "They haven't moved."

"Just remember you're following _them_ , not him." John said. "I'm going to search the place off route twenty, so make sure they're still there would ya? I don't want any surprises."

"I'll go look." I said.

"If they left, call me." He said. "Otherwise, I'll call you when I'm through with the search."

"Hey, you haven't slept all night." I said. "Aren't you tired?"

"Are you kidding? I haven't had this much fun in years." He answered.

I started my car and turned it around on the narrow street. I went back the way I came and turned up the hill a block before the street where Gretchen and her friend were. I went to the top of the hill and made a left and then stopped at the next intersection and looked for the Honda. Not seeing it, I decided to turn down the street to see if she was in front of a van that was blocking my view. I realized all at once that Gretchen's Honda was not on the street. My mouth went dry and I looked around frantically and stepped on the gas.

As the auto-body parking lot came into view, I saw that the Escalade was gone too, and knew they must have just left. I hit the cross street in time to see Gretchen's Honda turning right a few blocks away. I stomped on the gas pedal and got honked at by someone who had to brake to avoid hitting me. I turned where they had turned but saw only an empty street. I was cursing myself as I raced up the hill, slowing enough at the first two intersections to look either way. I didn't see them. On my right was a freeway onramp, and I decided to take the gamble. I got on the freeway and was relived to see the back of the Honda about a hundred yards ahead, going around a curve. I quickly got myself within a safe distance. We were headed south. It was getting dark and soon the only thing I could identify on the Honda were its taillights, which were distinctively shaped like two lopsided pac-men.

We were going very fast and once we got out of Cleveland the speed of our caravan increased. Gretchen was staying far behind Dennis, but I was fairly close to her, figuring that someone tailing another person would be much less likely to suspect being tailed themselves. The logical extension of that thought made me check my own rearview. We got onto 80 east, and then right away onto 271 south. We were in Cuyahoga Valley, a national park and the location of Harold Pierson Junior's second home. It was the place where Junior was recuperating -I called John Marchin.

"Well, we can't jump to any conclusions just yet." He said after he heard where I was. "There's more than one house out there, we don't know they're going to the Pierson place. And anyway, there's too many people involved. If she was after Junior, why follow this Dennis around? We need to know she's making her move on Junior before we call the cops. I went to a barbecue at the Pierson place once. If they turn off on a dirt road called Fallowfield -off of Oak Hill I think- I want you to call Reyes and tell her Junior's in trouble. Don't follow them up that road. The Pierson property starts about a quarter mile in, it's like a long driveway. I have in my possession a certain Mini DV video that might explain what the hell is going on here. I'm going over to your place right now to watch the thing with Jessie."

"Good." I said. "Keep me updated."

"Will do." He said. "Stay outta trouble."

We exited 271 and got onto a small two-lane road called Major. It was a heavily wooded area and was very dark. There was no one around except the Escalade, the Honda and me, and I was starting to get the feeling that it would be pretty obvious that I was following them soon. They went over a hill and while they were out of sight, I slowed and turned off my headlights. I let a significant space open up between us, and then sped after them, feeling dangerous driving without my lights on. I caught up to them as they were turning right onto Oak Hill. I could stay on the dark road by watching what the Honda's pac-man taillights were doing.

I couldn't see the Escalade, but at the speed we were going I didn't think it could be too far ahead of us. Finally, as Gretchen got to the top of a hill, her brake lights flashed and for a moment the road was illuminated with red light. I was passing a small side road that was marked with a wooden sign. The brake lights disappeared over the hill before I could read it, but I thought I saw an f. I slowed to a crawl and then stopped as I got to the top of the hill.

The Honda was parked down on the other side, pulled over on the shoulder near a bend in the road with a minivan parked facing it. I put my car in reverse and backed away from them. I turned around and drove slowly, looking at the thick line of trees on my right. I finally saw an opening, so I turned in and took my poor car bounding into the forest between the two trees. I drove about ten feet in before I was brought to a sudden, crunching stop by a boulder. I got out of the car cursing, and saw that I'd smashed my bumper and right front panel on a large rock. The turn signal was gone, but the headlight looked like it might still work. I told myself that it could be worse. At least I hadn't done any damage to the engine, and at least my car was more or less out of sight from the road.

I put the keys in my pocket, got the binoculars, and started up the hill on foot. I stayed close to the tree line so that I could duck into the woods and hide if I needed to. At the top of the hill I looked through the binoculars at Gretchen's car and the minivan. The only light in the area was coming from inside the van, and it illuminated a chubby woman in all black, wearing a ski mask. Someone handed her what looked like a hunting rifle and then there was a loud squeak as she slammed the van's door shut. Four black figures, barely visible in the half moon light, were moving toward me. I ran back down the hill to my car.

# TWENTY-THREE

"This is Ben Perkins, Guardian Security Agent, I'm out near Everett close to the Pierson house. They're gonna get Junior. Four women just went up the road wearing ski masks and they had at least one gun."

"What women?" Detective Reyes asked.

"One's named Gretchen Salle, and I don't know the rest." I said. "She's the one that killed Freddie Divos, I think I can prove that, and now she's after Junior Pierson. You've gotta get some people out here. There's four of 'em, and they're headed up there right now."

"Where exactly are you calling from?" She asked.

"I'm just off Oak Hill Road." I said. "They're on foot, going up Fallowfield."

"Alright, I'll send some police down from Peninsula," she said, "and I'm on my way. In the mean time I want you to stay put do you understand? I'm going to want to talk to you when I get there."

She hung up and I immediately dialed Phil Relna's number and listened to his message. The machine beeped. "IT'S BEN," I shouted, " _pick up_."

It took a moment before I heard the click and then David's voice. "Yeah?"

"It's time." I said. "You need to turn yourself in right now. She's making her move."

"Fuck. Okay." He said. "Thanks man, for everything."

"Hey David, before you go, erase the message I just left." I said. "And break a window or something."

He said he would, and hung up. I thought about calling John and Jessie, but Gretchen Salle and her friends were on their way to kill Junior and it occurred to me that detective Reyes knew I was there. If they murdered him I would be considered pretty chickenshit for not at least trying to warn him that they were coming. I didn't care in the least if she killed him, but I wanted it to look like I had tried to stop it. I took the flashlight out of the glove compartment and went after them.

I was half jogging up the dark road, going up a steep hill, and I was out of breath when I reached the fence. It was about eight feet high, chain link, with razor wire in a neat spiral along the top and there was a sign that said Private Property - No Trespassing. I saw a flash of light in the trees, far away on the other side of the fence. It was only visible for a moment and I figured it was Gretchen and company. I wondered how they got in. I tracked my light along the bottom of the fence and didn't have to go far before I saw what they'd done. A segment of the bottom of the fence had been pulled upwards a couple of feet and they'd wedged a two-by-four under it, lifting it high enough to shimmy through. I got down on my belly and slid under, getting part of my hoody snagged on the wire. I was trespassing now, and the energy of that fact increased my speed up the hill.

I came to a fork in the road and decided to go to the left, because the light I'd seen had come from that direction. As I came around a curve I was confronted by light shining directly into my eyes.

"Get down on the ground." A male voice said. I held a hand up and tried to block the light to see who it was. "Now." He said.

I got down on my stomach and the man told me to put my arms out to the side. As he kneeled down beside me I knew it was Dennis Reston. He pulled my hands together behind me and slipped a plastic tie around them, tightening to the point of pain. "Wait," I said, "I came up here to warn you..."

"You're Ben Perkins right? What the fuck are you doing here?" He said. "You set off every alarm in the place, what'd you do climb the fence?"

"Wait, listen, there's a bunch of women with guns who came up here to kill Junior Pierson."

He rolled me over and pulled me to a sitting position by my sweater. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"They're in here now." I said. "I followed them up the hill."

He smiled at me and nodded. "Your friend's in trouble and you think if you get something on Junior you can get him out of it." He said. "Well that's nice as hell. I wish I had a friend like that, but you're not going to get anything on Junior. In fact you're never going to be seen or heard from again Ben Perkins." He pulled a black canvas sack over my head and tightened the drawstring around my neck.

"Please don't kill me." I said, surprised at how scared I was. "I'm telling you the truth."

Just then there was a loud pop from up the hill. I felt Dennis freeze and then heard him running from me up the hill. I could hear yelling up there but I couldn't make it out. It sounded like women yelling. I was having a hard time catching my breath and I told myself to relax or I would suffocate.

More pops, but different sounding, two guns, maybe three. I put my face against my knee and dragged downward, trying to pull off the sack but I was having no success. I flexed my neck muscles and moved my head around to loosen the drawstring and it seemed to work. I could hear a car engine start and more gunshots. I needed to be able to see.

I put a leg underneath myself and got on a knee and then stood. The car engine was getting louder, but I had no idea which direction I had to go to get out of the road. I took a few steps but then stopped, thinking it was stupid to continue blind. I took a wide stance and whipped my head forward, head-banger style. I did it so hard that I almost fell, but more importantly I felt the sack almost come off. As soon as I had my balance I took the wide stance and threw my head forward again, harder this time, and the sack flipped off my head. I looked up to see headlights coming toward me fast. There was skidding and I lunged away as Dennis Reston's Escalade bounced by and slammed into a tree.

My first thought was that he was trying to run me over. I stood and focused my eyes on the truck, ready to run. I saw the back window was shattered, probably from the gunshots, and I watched the SUV back away from the tree with a wrenching sound. Inside I could see the four women and a child.

I looked closer and realized that it was many children, six or seven in fact, all girls. One was crying loud and the others looked dazed or even asleep. A woman in a ski mask was yelling at the driver to go, and another was looking at me like she was trying to figure out what I was doing there.

The SUV was not harmed by its encounter with the tree and speed away down the hill. I was having a hard time processing what I had just seen. I couldn't imagine where those kids had come from. I tried to break the plastic holding my wrists together by pulling as hard as I could, but it was no use. I looked around for something I could break it on. I thought maybe I could rip it apart on a tree, but then realized I would probably only rip my own flesh. I stood there in the dark for what seemed like fifteen minutes, my mind going in a hundred different directions at once while my body was practically paralyzed.

Another motor was audible coming down the road and I got out of the way in a hurry. I hid behind a tree as Dennis came flying down the dirt road on a motorcycle. He looked crazy.

At that point I knew I wanted to get out of there and away from the whole thing. I started running down the hill, thinking about hiding in my car until the police arrived. The gate had been demolished by the Escalade and a large section of fence had come down too. I was running awkwardly, with my hands restrained, up the side of Oak Hill Road toward my car, when Dennis sped up on his bike. He slowed down to keep pace with me.

"Hey," he said, "did you see which way they went?"

"No." I said.

"Where the fuck are you running to? Stop running."

"No." I said. "You were going to kill me. The cops are on the way and I'm going to stay on this public road until they get here."

He pulled his bike in front of me, blocking my path. "Stop." He said. I stopped and looked at him. All the muscles in his face seemed tense. "You didn't call the cops did you? How could you, your hands are tied."

"I called before." I said. "I called as soon as I saw those women go up Fallowfield. I was trying to stop them -and I might've succeeded if you had listened to me."

"Get on the bike." He said. "We have to go back."

"My hands are tied." I said.

He got off the bike and used a pocketknife to free my hands. He got on the bike and I stood there weighing my options. "Get on." He said. I took a deep breath and got on the bike holding the back of the seat. "You ever ride on the back of a bike before?"

"Just go." I said.

# TWENTY-FOUR

The road where I had almost been killed by the Escalade led to a flat clearing that was brightly lit. There were four banks of lights, high up on poles like at a football field, and they illuminated a large patch of pavement and two long buildings. One of the buildings was open on one side, like a big garage door. It wasn't until I was almost to the top of the hill that I saw the small airplane with it's under compartment open, and it's stairs down. It was an airfield.

When we pulled up to the side of the building I saw a body face down in a pool of blood, still holding onto a handgun. The bike's wheels went through the blood and it seemed incredibly cold to me that he would drive through the man's blood. He could've easily avoided it.

"Who's that?" I asked when he had stopped the bike.

"His name wouldn't mean anything to you." Dennis said.

I got off the bike and looked at the man. "It's not Junior?"

"No, Junior's in the office." He said. "Come on." He opened the door to the side of the building and went in and I followed him. It was a small office with fake plants and a large framed photograph of a glacier on the wall. Junior Pierson sat behind a desk listening to someone speaking on the other end of the phone. His left arm was still in a sling. He didn't look surprised to see me.

"I gotta go." He told whoever it was. "No, tomorrow." He hung up the phone and looked at me. "Ben Perkins." He said. "Why am I looking at you right now? What possible reason could there be for your presence here right now?"

"He called the cops." Dennis said. "When he saw those bitches coming up here, he figured they were going to try to kill you so he called the cops."

"How long ago?" He asked me

"I don't know." I said. "Twenty minutes or so I guess."

"Oh, they should be here soon then." Junior said. "I guess we'd better call the Jesus Committee."

"Yeah and tell them to hurry." Dennis said. "We leave Ray where he's at?"

"Yeah, no time anyway, the JC will take care of it. I guess Ross'll get some more flight hours now."

"Hell of a way to get them." Dennis said. "What about our security guard here?"

" _Former_ security guard." Junior said. "They recently terminated his employment."

"He was trying to help you." Dennis said.

"Is that true?" Junior asked me. "How did you know they'd come up here?"

"I figured whoever killed Freddie was going to try to kill you next so I waited down the road and kept an eye on your driveway. I was going to warn you."

"Yeah, nice work," Dennis was laughing, "usually you warn somebody about something _before_ it happens."

"I got held up on the way." I said looking at Dennis.

"You really want your job back that much? You appoint yourself my personal bodyguard?"

"Look I don't care one way or another. I just don't want to see my friend go down for something some crazy bitch did."

That seemed to satisfy him. "I'll call the JC, you have a talk to our savior here." He said to Dennis.

"Come on." Dennis said. I followed him outside and we stood not far from the body of Ray. "Did you see those bitches drive by in my truck?" He asked.

"No." I said. "I had a sack over my head at the time."

"Oh yeah. And what are you going to tell the police?"

"Nothing." I said.

"That's right." He said. "You didn't see nothin' you don't know nothin'." He stretched his neck out by tilting his head side to side. "Look I have to admit, as much of a pain in the ass as you've been tonight, you've definitely got some balls. I know you're out of a job and you could probably use some extra money and maybe I could help. I could always use some extra manpower. Does that interest you at all?"

"Yeah." I said. "Fuck yeah."

"Just to be clear, it might be the kind of work where you'd have to bring along that Mak I sold you."

"I understand." I said. Red and blue lights were flashing on the tops of the trees and we both saw it at the same time.

"We'll see how you handle yourself with the cops and then go from there." He said. As the cop car drove onto the airfield Dennis pulled a leather case with a badge in it out of his coat pocket and held it up above his head. "Federal agent." He shouted.

# TWENTY-FIVE

The black Ford Explorers arrived and I watched from the back seat of Reyes' car as the men who emerged took over the scene at the airfield. When the cops from Peninsula had seen the body they called in backup, which arrived about the time that Reyes did. She spoke to one of the black Explorer guys for a minute and then she got behind the wheel of the car and turned off the airfield's pavement, going down the dirt road. She seemed annoyed. "Those are feds right? The guys in the black Explorers?" I asked. "They look like the guys that tried to kill E.T." She didn't answer me. We passed the gnarled gate and got onto Oak Hill Road, headed back toward the freeway. "What's going to happen to my car?" I asked. "I can't just leave it here."

"I told one of the officers to drive it to the station, don't worry about it." She answered. We rode in silence for what seemed like a long time. Finally she spoke. "You want to tell me what you're doing here Mr. Perkins?"

"Trying to help." I said. I told her the same thing I'd told Junior, that I was watching his place on a hunch. "Protecting Junior Pierson is part of my job as a security agent. I just figured I could help."

She looked at me in the rearview mirror with her lie-detector eyes, and I knew that what I had said wasn't going over. "Mr. Pierson told me that you aren't an agent anymore. He said you're on some kind of suspension until the Telano matter is settled."

"Just a mix up." I said. "I haven't spoken with David in years."

"So what happened tonight? Start at the beginning."

I told her I was watching Fallowfield road from a hiding spot when I saw four people in ski masks with guns going up toward the Pierson property. "That was when I called you." I said.

"You said it was four women." She said. "You mentioned a name."

"That hunch wasn't so good." I said. "See Jessie and me did some research on Amanda Porgett, and we found out that she had this girlfriend, Gretchen. Our theory was that Gretchen was the one doing all the murders, for revenge or whatever. So when I saw the people going up the road I figured one of them was her."

Detective Reyes sighed. "You thought this Gretchen person had assembled a small army and invaded the Pierson compound for revenge?"

"It sounds silly when you say it."

"So what happens next?"

I told her how I was intercepted and tied up by Dennis, only I didn't use his name. I told about the black sack and the gunshots I'd heard. I told her how I'd almost been run over.

"Did you get a good look at the vehicle when it drove by?"

"Uh not really. Why do you think David Telano might've been one of the guys in ski masks?" I mentioned his name in hopes that she would tell me he'd been arrested earlier that night, but she wasn't sharing.

"You're a key witness in three homicides now, would you like to explain why you happened to be at the scene of each of these murders?"

"Just lucky I guess."

She didn't laugh. "You know how many murders we had in this county last year?" She asked. "One. All year. Now we've had four in the last two months. We don't like the high profile homicide cases. Bad for tourism -bad for the town's image."

"Bad for the people who get murdered." I said.

"I want you to know that you're going to jail. Maybe not for murder, but for something. Withholding evidence at the very least. You haven't cooperated with this investigation for a second, and you know what? It's starting to get on my nerves. Nobody likes to be lied to Mr. Perkins, but when it's patently obvious that you are being lied to, then it becomes insulting." She shrugged. "I've heard that jail isn't a nice place, so if I were you I'd be talking right now. I'd be telling the whole truth, and not treating the detective who holds your fate in her hands as if she were an idiot. You don't think I'm an idiot do you Mr. Perkins?"

"No." I said.

"And do you want to go to jail?"

"No." I said.

"And what would you think if you were in my position?"

"I guess I would think that I had something to do with this." I said. She glanced at me in the rearview again and waited. "I'm trying to solve this thing, which I know isn't my job, but I'm in trouble, okay? They've practically fired me over it- I've been practically branded a criminal myself."

"Well we know you like your marijuana." She said.

"Uh, yeah. I can't deny it. I didn't think we'd fooled you that night you showed up at our house. Yes I smoke weed, but that doesn't mean I'm tied up with these killings. That's a pretty big leap isn't it? Look, I figured they already went after Junior once and screwed it up. I didn't have to have any inside information to know they'd be back. If I had saved the day, I'd be back in Junior Pierson's good graces. Hell, I'd be a hero. And listen, I called you didn't I? If it weren't for me you wouldn't even know about this right now -if ever. By the way, wouldn't it be interesting to know if Pierson or that guy called the police? You can check phone records right? It was a good half hour after the killers left before the cops got there, during which time you'd think someone would call the cops, right? I'd bet money no one there called the cops except me. And you want to throw _me_ in jail."

"I know I said you should talk, but on second thought maybe you should shut up now Mr. Perkins... It's a long ride to Cleveland."

When we got to the police station, Reyes took me to a room and sat me at a table that had a large black stain on it. She told me to wait. The cushion on my chair was thin and there was a hard lump, like a metal rod that ran the length of the seat. It made getting comfortable impossible. They shut the door and I sat there for at least a half an hour. There was a large mirror on the wall, and I figured I was being watched. Jessie called and I told her where I was and that I would call her as soon as they let me go.

Two guys in black suits came in and I knew immediately that they were feds. One had a thick neck, and a military haircut, and the other one was short and had light brown hair and bags under his eyes. He sat opposite me while the other one stood behind him. "I watch a lot of Law and Order." I said. "I never thought I'd be sitting in this kind of room. Is the assistant DA watching from behind the mirror?"

"Why? Have you committed a crime?" The short one asked.

"No," I said, "that's my point. I'm a law abiding person, that's why I never thought I'd be here."

"We're not cops, we're with the Department of Homeland Security." The big guy said.

"Homeland Security?" I looked back and forth at the two men. "Wow. Well then, on a personal note, thank you. I mean, you know, there haven't been any attacks since nine-eleven, so you guys must be doing a good job." They didn't seem to appreciate the compliment.

The little guy asked for my story, and I gave him the same thing I'd given Reyes. There was no reason to mention Gretchen Salle, and I wanted to see if they would ask me about her or about the kids.

He made me explain everything that happened again and again. I knew it was supposed to trip me up, but it was so close to the truth that I could keep it all straight pretty easily. They seemed disappointed. "We have to check out your story before we let you go. It shouldn't take long, but why don't you make yourself comfortable in the mean time."

This time I sat there for much longer. I checked the time on my phone, they kept me waiting there for two hours.

Finally Detective Reyes came in. "You can leave now Mr. Perkins." She said, handing me my car keys. "I've been instructed to tell you that the events of last night have been deemed sensitive and confidential by the Department of Homeland Security. If you were to tell anyone what you witnessed last night you could be charged with treason."

# TWENTY-SIX

I drove home in a kind of daze, tired and confused and above all hungry. Jessie was asleep on the couch when I got in, and I tried to stay quiet as I made myself two cheese sandwiches on toast. My eyes felt hot and I knew I had to get to bed. I was finishing the last bite of my second sandwich when Jessie called my name from the other room. I answered and she came in full of energy, wanting to know what had happened to me. "Wait," I said, "first tell me what was on that tape."

"Awful." She said. "Freddie Divos tied up in a basement being drowned with a pressure hose, begging for his life and answering questions."

"Anything that could help David?"

"Yeah." She said. " _Junior_ killed Becky Piesron. He said it was an accident. They'd set David up for Amanda, but David found out and stupidly tried to blackmail Junior. So Junior figures he can shoot David when he comes to take the payoff and just say he was an intruder. But his wife came home unexpectedly while he was getting ready, and he shot her by mistake. They already had David set up for one murder, so Junior figures he'll pin that one on him too. He let David take his car, and then he shot himself to make it look more realistic. Freddie's version of this makes Junior look like the fuck-up of the year."

"Whoa."

"That's not the half of it." She said. "He told her all about this thing called the Afghan Air-Bridge that Junior Pierson is all mixed up with. It's drugs coming in, like we thought, but also kids going out. They're fucking trafficking in children from that Extended Families place, selling them to god-knows-who for god-knows-what purpose. And the kicker is that the whole thing is connected to the CIA. Can you imagine?"

"Yes." I said. "I was questioned this morning by two guys from the Department of Homeland Security."

Her eyes widened and she held up her hand. "Wait." She stood up. "Come look out the front window." I followed her into the living room and looked through the blinds with her.

"Yeah?" I said.

"That Verizon van has been there since around five thirty this morning." She said. "Who gets their phone lines worked on at that hour? No one around here works for Verizon. I've never seen that van before."

She let the blinds snap back into place and followed me over to the couch. "Fuck." I said. I picked up the notepad by the phone and wrote: **Don't mention Gretchen's name.**

She took it from me and wrote: **Why Not?**

I wrote: **She took a bunch of kids and I want them to get away. Plus I don't think Reyes told the feds about her.**

She wrote: **Did she kill Junior?**

**No** I wrote.

**The kids** she wrote, "You saw them?"

"Yes." I said.

Jessie looked angry. "This is silly." She said. Before I knew what she was up to she was out the front door and crossing the street, going right up to the Verizon van. I followed and stood next to her as she knocked hard on the window five times. "Hey!" She shouted. "Who's in there?"

A guy in a Verizon uniform came up from the back of the vehicle. He was frowning as he rolled the window down. "What?" He asked.

"What are you doing here?" Jessie demanded.

"Working." The guy said. "We're testing our signal strength in the area, and I have to stay here for a while. Maybe a long time. The signal's been dropping in and out."

"Lemme see some ID." Jessie said.

"Huh?" The guy squinted at me and then looked back at Jessie. "I don't have to show you ID. You're not a cop." He said.

"No, she's not a cop." I said as I pulled out my cell. "But we can get one here pretty quick." I dialed information and said Shoreston Ohio. When they asked for the listing I said Shoreston Police Department and waited. "Oh that's nice." I said. "Fifty cents extra and they dial the number for you." I hit one and waited. The guy told Jessie that we were being ridiculous and that he was just trying to do his job. I described the situation to the person who answered. "There's some creep spying on our house. He's in a Verizon van, and he claims he's doing work here, but we think he's really spying. Maybe he's casing the place -there's been some robberies around here, or he could just be some kind of pervert, I'm not sure. But we need a cop out here, quick."

"Sir, if it's a Verizon truck, they're probably just testing the signal." The guy on the other end said. I told the guy my address while he kept trying to interrupt me. "Sir?" He said. "Sir? We aren't sending anyone to your house. We're far too busy to bother with this. I suggest you ignore the van and go about your business."

"Thank you very much." I answered, snapping the phone shut. "They're sending someone right out. I'm sure they'll want to take a look in your little van there."

"Hey, I'm done anyway." The guy said. "I was about to leave."

"All of a sudden you're done?" Jessie scoffed. "I thought you said you might have to stay a long time- we're gonna take your license number and call Verizon. I bet you don't even work for them. You can't harass us like this." As she was speaking he rolled up the window and got into the driver's seat. He started the van. "There, see?" Jessie said to me as the guy turned his van around on our narrow street. "They're more afraid of us than we are of them -like snakes."

We went back to the house and I headed straight for the bedroom. "Hey," she said, following me, "you never told me what the hell happened to you last night."

I gave her the rough outline and mentioned how Dennis had said he could use my help and there might be money in it.

"Fuck." She said.

"Now I sleep." I said.

"You're not going to do anything for those fuckers are you?"

"You think I'm stupid? I'll wait and see, maybe they'll never call. If they do I guess I'll have to come up with an excuse or something." I put my head on the pillow. "I can't believe they are selling kids." I said, closing my eyes. "What the fuck?"

"Apparently this Afghan Air-Bridge has been operating since the eighties." Jessie said, undeterred by my being on the verge of sleep. "It's like a corporation or something, and I guess Pierson Senior left his share to Junior and he's the one who started selling the kids."

"Fucking nepotism." I said.

My sleep was short, maybe a couple of hours before Jessie was hauling me into the living room. "Look," she said, "David is on the news." I struggled to focus on the TV.

Local news anchors Tom Farnin and Kate Welsh sat behind a blue desk while the drums and synthesized horns of their opening theme music faded. **"Good morning."** Tom Farnin began. **"Our top story today is the capture of accused murderer David Telano. Telano -wanted in connection with three murders- was apprehended last night,** _inside_ **the city of Lakeview. Residents of this exclusive gated community were shocked to find that they had a killer in their midst. Sally Tupins has this exclusive report."**

She stood outside the front gate, on the side of the road. **"The mood here in Lakeview today is one of stunned disbelief, as residents come to understand just what has happened in their normally peaceful community."** In quick succession came shots of a couple I didn't recognize walking a baby stroller through the park, then Bess Joiner and her grandson eating ice cream cones on the meetinghouse steps, and then a close up of Harry Means sitting in his car with the window down. **"It's beyond belief."** Harry said. **"I just don't understand it. It's bad enough that these things happened, but for the killer to be right here, less than a block away from our house of worship, its just... It's a shock."**

" **I didn't know Freddie Divos, but I knew Becky Pierson."** A woman I'd seen many times, but whose name I couldn't remember was saying. **"And she didn't deserve to die like that. No one does. At least now that he's caught they can punish him. He oughta get the chair for what he did."**

Sally Tupins came back on. **"Earlier, I spoke with the security guard that apprehended the alleged killer."** She said. **"Miss Niti Ravhandies gave us this statement."**

Niti was standing in the guardhouse common room, in front of a large map of Lakeview. **"We received a noise complaint at around eleven forty, which called us to a home that was supposed to be empty until next spring. When we arrived we found a window broken and loud music playing and inside we found Mr. Telano and one of our local kids. Apparently this young woman knew that Mr. Telano was hiding there and had kept it a secret for almost a week. After we found him, he gave himself up without any trouble, and sat quietly in the guardhouse until the Shoreston and Cleveland police arrived."**

" **Reporting live from the community of Lakeview, this is Sally Tupins. Tom?"**

" **Thank you Sally. Action News Crew Eleven was on the scene as David Telano was escorted into the courthouse in Cleveland this morning. We have this exclusive footage."** They showed David being led in handcuffs by two cops. He had his head down. There were a lot of cameras there, and someone yelled a question.

" **I ain't do nothin'."** David said, barely looking up.

"Ugh." I said. "If ever a situation called for the use of proper English."

Tom Farnin continued. **"Mr. Telano is charged with three counts of murder in the first degree, attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, burglary, auto theft, resisting arrest, breaking and entering and statutory rape. He pleaded not guilty on all charges."**

"Statutory rape? How'd they throw that one in there?" Jessie asked.

"I don't know." I said. The news had moved on to another story and our phone was ringing. I picked it up.

"You're in some deep shit Ben." Said a voice that I recognized as Niti.

"Hey I just saw you on TV." I said. "You did good."

"Don't be stupid." Niti said. "You think I forgot about the other night when we had that call to the Relna place?"

"No, why?"

"Cut the shit." She said. "I didn't say a word about it to the cops, but Franco saw you going in there to _water the plants_. He couldn't wait to share that little tidbit with the detective."

"Oh fuck." I said. "What detective?"

"Same guy that was in Lakeview the other day, the big guy."

"Borgano." I said.

"Yes, him. How could you help someone like David Telano? I saw what he did to Becky Pierson, he is an inhuman monster Ben. I thought you had more sense." She seemed hurt, almost betrayed.

"Don't worry." I said. "He's innocent. You'll see. He's a good guy Niti, he couldn't have killed anyone."

"We found him balls-deep in Melissa Finer."

"That's what the statutory rape thing is about-"

"Yes, she's _sixteen_."

"That's funny -you saying 'balls-deep'." I said.

"This is serious Ben. What are you thinking?"

"Hey, Jordan had been in there smoking dope." I said. "The Lakeview teens were probably using it as some kind of love shack. Melissa must've let him in there. You implied it on TV just now. They must've known each other. That's plausible."

"Barely. If that's the best you can do I'm worried about your future."

"Yeah, it's pretty thin." I said. "Shit. For what it's worth he didn't do it. He's a fucking patsy."

"You are a stupid, stupid man." She said. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Okay." I said. "Thanks for the heads-up about Franco." I hung up.

Jessie was annoyed. "Why's she so concerned for you? It's none of her business." She said. "I might be jealous if I didn't know for a fact that Indian girls don't fuck."

I considered asking if she'd heard of a little book called the Kama Sutra, but then I thought better of it. I began dialing a number. "Who're you calling?" She asked.

"Reyes." I said. Jessie came over and put her ear next to the phone. When I got the detective on the line, I started right in. "Yesterday I mentioned a name to you that you didn't pass on to the guys in the black suits. Why?"

"From the moment I met you, you've been operating on the assumption that I have no idea what's going on." She said. "Why is that?"

"It's not that," I said, "I just got the feeling your partner was against me from the beginning."

"Yes well, he's having quite a time interviewing your friend. The story of how he managed to elude police for so long has some glaring holes in it, and the general consensus around here is that they are Ben Perkins shaped holes. Would you like to comment on that?"

"Coincidence." I said. "I haven't seen David since the night he drove by my gate in Junior Pierson's car. Listen, if you can lose Mr. Personality I'd be happy to sit down with you somewhere and tell you everything I know."

"Not interested." She said. "I already know everything you could give me. Information is useful only when it leads to hard evidence."

"Like videotape?"

"I'm listening."

"Freddie Divos's last words."

"And how would you have such a thing?"

"Long story." I said. "Can we meet somewhere privately?"

"Yes." She said. "If you bring me the tape."

We set it up for that afternoon at a park in Cleveland Heights and I hung up.

"Are you going to give her the video?"

"Part of it." I said. "Is Gretchen on there? Can you see her?"

"No, but you can hear her voice." She said. "Pap said he was going to cut the sound out when she was talking on the dubs he's making. He's got some video editing equipment on his Mac at work. He said he was going to edit her voice out and type the questions she was asking on the screen."

"How many copies do you think he'll make?"

"A bunch." She said. Her phone was ringing and she looked at it. "That's him now."

# TWENTY-SEVEN

I handed Reyes the DVD. "There were children in the back of the Escalade when Gretchen and her crew left the airfield." I said. "She's not out for revenge, she's trying to save a bunch of kids. And she didn't kill Becky Pierson, Junior did. That's something Freddie says on the video." We were sitting on a bench near a jungle gym that needed a paint job. The park was empty except for a couple of dog walkers.

"If you're feeling guilty about giving me this it's not necessary. Even if this DVD is hard evidence that she killed someone, I don't think it would be admissible in court."

"Because we stole it?"

"No." She said. "That might be a problem too, but I assume there are things on here that would be deemed sensitive and confidential by DHS. The evidence would be sealed and only a judge would ever see it."

"So it's useless?"

"No, far from useless from your perspective. I assume you have some copies squirrelled away somewhere."

"Yeah." I said.

"Good, you might not be a complete moron." She said. "How come your friend has a public defender?"

"David? I don't know." I said. "I mean they don't have a lot of money, but I figure his mom should be able to scrape together something for a lawyer."

"Thomas Delaney the Third." She said. "That's the guy he should get. I worked on a case that was similar to this and he knew which buttons to push to get his clients off."

"Thanks, I'll tell his mom." I said. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about before you go. Dennis Reston mentioned that he wanted to give me a job. He made it pretty clear that it was something illegal and I told him I was interested. If he follows through I can get in touch with you and let you know what he wants me to do."

"You're determined to get yourself killed aren't you?"

"These guys are selling children. Don't you want to bust them? They're selling heroin too. I might be able to help."

"There's no way to bust them for the drugs, it's already well known that the CIA is involved in drug smuggling and no one cares. It's an open secret, but the children, that's another matter. If that were to come out there would be public outcry. There might not be anything we could do in the courts but we could give it to the media, and then we might get a government reaction of some kind."

"So I'm looking for something we could give to the media?"

"If you're willing to risk your life for it." She said. "I hope you wouldn't do anything stupid, I don't have to tell you that these people would kill you without a second thought."

"I know."

"And you're not working for me, if you do this you're doing it as a free agent. I have a feeling my partner will be coming for you soon, and I don't want you running your mouth to him about how you're helping me."

"I wont." I said. "Does he have anything on me?"

"He's looking pretty damn hard." She said. "I'll try to give you some warning before they come for you, but not directly. I'll let John Marchin know."

"Why him?" I asked.

"Because he's helping you." She said. "He and I had a long conversation about this mess. He was a good cop in his day."

"But you can't give me any help with Dennis Reston?"

"Like what?"

"Like backup." I said. "If I get in trouble I'd like to be able to call in the cavalry."

"Well I guess I could do something." She said. "I'll have to take your phone."

"What are you going to do with it?" I asked as I handed it to her. "You gonna put a wire in there?"

"No, just a panic button and a GPS" She said. "But you have to promise that you'll only use it if your life is in eminent danger."

"Okay." I said.

"I should be able to get it back to you tomorrow if my tech guy's not too busy."

I thanked her and sat alone in the park for an hour or so after she left. I was wondering if I would have the guts to die for a bunch of kids I never knew. Sitting in the park I was, but I wondered what I would do in the moment if the moment came.

When I got home I looked up the contact information for Thomas Delaney the Third, and called Meredtih Divos. I explained to her that I had a cop friend who told me that Thomas Delaney the Third was the best lawyer for David. She said she'd called Benson and Crewe, from TV, but I told her I didn't think that was such a good idea. "I'm sure they're okay if you're trying to get money from somebody, but David needs a defense attorney." I said. She said maybe that was why they hadn't called back yet. I gave her Delaney's number and she god-blessed me before I got off the phone. "You too." I said.

I went and picked up Jessie at the PFPFP and waited while she closed the place down. On our way home she wanted to stop at the Buy n' Fly and she came out unwrapping a pack of Marlboro Ultra Lights. "What's all this now?" I asked as she got in the car.

She looked at me as she pulled one out. "It's a cigarette." She said. "I'm gonna smoke it."

"Since when did you start smoking again?"

"Since I can't find any weed and I need a fucking hobby, since that's when." She said, lighting it up with a new red lighter. "You have a problem with that?"

"Oh no, by all means, go ahead and smoke that toxic shit right next to me. I love it."

"Well I don't see you making any phone calls about the weed situation."

"Jessie, I've been sort of busy lately, I don't know if you've noticed." I said. "Gimme one of those."

"I thought you were opposed."

"I am, but second-hand smoke makes me gag." I said.

"Welcome to flavor country." She said.

# TWENTY-EIGHT

John called me the next day at around eleven and told me that he'd had a call from detective Reyes. "You need to get out of your house now son." He said. "They're issuing a warrant for your arrest today. I'm not sure when, but they're gonna come get you."

"A warrant for what?"

"Harboring a fugitive." He said. "They checked your phone records and apparently you called the Relna place on the night of the shooting down in Everett. I was a little surprised to hear that myself."

"Sorry." I said.

"It's okay, I suspected you anyway. But between the phone call and Franco telling anyone who'll listen how you were going in and out of there all the time -you look pretty guilty."

"Shit." I said.

"They could be coming over to your place right now. You need to leave."

"I don't have anywhere to go John. Maybe I should let them arrest me. What am I supposed to do?"

"You could stay at my place for awhile." He said. "They'll find you eventually, but maybe by then the case against David will be different. Thomas Delaney the Third had a meeting with David just this morning, so you never know."

"If I'm at your place, you might get in trouble." I said.

"I'm an ex-cop, I won't get in trouble. Anyway, I'd be harboring a fugitive who's wanted for harboring a fugitive. That's too interesting to pass up."

I told Jessie the situation and had her drive me to her Pap's place before she went to work. John opened the door to his apartment with a crooked smile. "Well if it isn't Richard Kimble." He said. "Come on in." He lived in a one bedroom on the fourth floor of a seven-story apartment complex. He had a balcony and a small dining area next to his living room, which was furnished with a new black sofa and easy chair. There was a glass coffee table, an end table, and a well-stocked bookcase. He had a gray cat named Daring, who was sitting on the counter between the kitchen and the living room. "I was just making a couple of sandwiches for us, you want a beer?"

"Yeah." I said. I sat on the sofa, and looked at the TV, which he had on mute. There was an open book on the table, and while he was in the kitchen I picked it up and looked at it. It was about the Spanish-American war. "This any good?" I asked when he came in holding our lunch on a TV tray.

He set the tray down and I took a plate and a can of beer off of it. "I'm enjoying it." He said, sitting down beside me. "There's not much new information in it, but it's still presented well. You like history?"

"In school I liked learning about ancient history." I said. "Mesopotamia, Egypt and the Fertile Crescent and all that. I don't read too much anymore. Mostly magazines." He'd made us jumbo sandwiches on wheat with pickles and mayo. There was also a sad handful of potato chips on the plate.

"There'll be plenty of time for reading when you're locked up." He said. "I just read a book about these private security companies in Iraq... Do you have any idea how much money they're making? It's unbelievable."

"Niti told me that guy Mike who used to work for the GSA is over there. He's working for a trucking company and she said they're paying him half a million dollars a year."

"Yeah, Junior Pierson got him that job." John said. "I tried to talk him out of it."

"It's a lotta money though."

"Yeah, he'll be the richest guy in the cemetery."

"I guess I wouldn't do it." I said. "Even for a half million. That country is so screwed up now. It's crazy to think it's all because these politicians like Rumsfeld don't know what they're doing."

"I wouldn't be so sure." John said. "It might be that everything went exactly as planned in Iraq. Look at all those so-called mistakes -no one could be that incompetent. Not even the Bush administration. They expect us to believe they disbanded the entire military and had no idea what would happen?"

"You think they were out to create a clusterfuck on purpose?" I asked.

"Look at the outcome of that clusterfuck. Even the people who were against the war from the beginning are now saying that we have to stay or there'll be a genocidal civil war. Meanwhile Haliburton, Lockheed-Martin and Northrup Grumman get richer and richer, and the price of oil goes through the roof, and the American bases quietly become permanent military outposts where we can launch attacks when world-war-three comes. If things had gone well in Iraq, we'd be out of there already and the huge money-faucet would be turned off."

"That's pretty grim." I said.

"Maybe I'm just a cynical old cop, looking at the world through shit-colored glasses." He said. "But the reason I brought it up was because that book about the security companies gave me an idea. I was thinking we should start one right here in Ohio. It's a growth industry, and you need a job. I'm going to need one too pretty soon -we could really do it. Lots of security is being outsourced to private companies these days. We could make a killing. With my experience and credentials, and your youth and moderately good looks-"

"What do you mean you're going to need a job?" I asked.

He took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down with some beer. "I don't know." He said. "I just get the feeling I'll be getting sacked over this mess too."

"But you didn't do anything." I said.

"Yet." He smiled. "You think I want to work for a family of drug pushers? Goddam child-sellers? I'm just hanging around to see if Junior Pierson makes any mistakes before he fires me. I want to see the bastard go down. Besides I don't want to quit if I can help it."

"Unemployment?"

"Yeah. If I get fired it probably won't be for gross misconduct, so I should be eligible for some free money." He said. "You on the other hand would be turned down."

I laughed even though he hadn't said anything particularly funny. "You serious about starting our own company?" I asked.

"Hell yeah." He said. "I'm talking about a private army for hire, right here in Ohio."

"That's interesting." I said. "I'm definitely on board if you're serious."

"I'm absolutely serious." He said. "And I don't just want you on board, I want you to be a full partner. Fifty-fifty. I even have an idea who our first client might be, but I wanted to make sure you were willing to do it first."

"Who?"

"You."

"No, I mean who's our first client?"

"Oh, I don't want to jinx it. But if it happens, there'll be plenty of money to spread around." He finished the last bite of his sandwich and looked at his watch. "I gotta go into Lakeview for awhile." He said. "I should be back in a couple of hours."

"You don't work today. Why do you have to go to Lakeview?" I asked.

"I'm emailing myself files," he said, "things I might need someday if they do fire me. I'm not going down without a fight."

After he left I finished my beer, took my shoes off, and put my head on the armrest. I woke up sometime later to Daring pushing his head into my hand over and over. I sat up and rubbed his little head for a while and then called Jessie. She didn't answer, so I took the TV off mute and got myself another beer from the fridge. I was watching Jerry Springer, waiting for the results of a hillbilly paternity test when Jessie called back. "Sorry I didn't answer before." She said. "The cops were here."

"Really?" I asked. "They went to the PFPFP?"

"Yeah they were looking for you."

"What'd you say?"

"I told them we had a fight last night and that you left. I told them I didn't know where you were." She said.

"And what'd they say to that?"

"They wanted to know where you might've gone. I said I didn't know, but they wouldn't leave me alone. So finally I told them you might've gone to your mom's place in Akron."

" _What_? My mom's? That was pretty fucking stupid."

"I didn't know what else to say."

"Do you have any idea how my mom is going to react when cops come knocking on her door asking about me?"

"I'm sorry." She said. "I didn't know what to say."

"Remember how she acted when that bill collector called her? Well it'll be like a hundred times worse than that."

"Maybe they wont send anyone down there. I didn't give them her address or anything."

"Oh, well that's good." I said.

"Don't get shitty." She said. "They wont go down there."

"I hope you're right." I said. She told me she was going to come over after work and hide out with me. "Listen, don't park nearby." I said. "And make sure no one's following you."

"They asked me a couple of questions Ben, I doubt they're watching my every move."

"Would you just be careful please? As a favor to me?"

It was getting dark out and I was feeling restless from being cooped up all day. I washed my face and opened the door to the balcony to get some fresh air. I was careful not to go too far out there in case someone was watching from below. I was that paranoid. Jessie and John arrived together a little later -John had stopped off somewhere and picked up a pizza. He seemed to be enjoying having company, despite the circumstances, and it almost seemed like a party.

We sat in front of the TV for a while and then John helped us move the coffee table and pull the bed out of the sofa. He brought in some blankets and said good night. "We'll start calling lawyers tomorrow." He said. "We'll get you out of this mess Ben, don't worry."

I thanked him.

Later on, while we were watching Jimmy Kimmel, Jessie and I started fooling around. We were trying to be super quiet, which made it more fun. I fell asleep with the TV on and woke up sometime in the night when John came into the room to turn it off. I was only dimly aware of this and then I was asleep again.

By six o'clock the next morning the bar under the mattress of the foldout bed was driving me nuts, digging into my side. No matter which way I turned I couldn't get comfortable. I finally got up and went into the kitchen to make coffee. While it was brewing I sat on the edge of the bed and turned the TV back on. I had the volume way down so I wouldn't wake Jessie or John and sat there in my boxer shorts and T-shirt and watched the 6 AM news. There was still nothing about the murder at the Pierson place in Everett.

I felt sleepy again and I curled up on the lower half of the bed, below the bar, and drifted off for a moment. I woke up to the sound of a loud knock at the door.

# TWENTY-NINE

I got to the door at about the same time as John. "I'll just go with them." I said. "I don't want to hide, they'd just find me."

John looked out the peephole. "It's not the cops." He whispered to me before turning back to the door. "Can I help you?" He asked without opening it.

"We'd like to speak to Ben." Said a voice I recognized.

"That's Dennis Reston." I said. I moved John out of the way and opened the door. Dennis was standing in the hall next to a short guy wearing a fancy watch. "How'd you know I was here?" I asked.

"Lucky guess." He said. "We heard you were gonna be arrested, so we went by your house to warn you, but you weren't there so we figured you must've already got the tip off. I guess it helps that your girlfriend is John Marchin's granddaughter."

"Yeah, it's done me some good over the years." I said. "You want to come in? I'm making a pot of coffee."

"Nah, but we wanted to talk to you. Get yourself dressed and meet us downstairs." He said. "We'll wait."

"Oh, okay." I said. "I'll be down in a minute." They turned and walked down the hall as I shut the door. John looked like he was trying to burn a hole in my head with his mind. "What?" I asked.

"It's six forty five in the morning." He said. "Why the hell are they here now?"

"I don't know." I said.

"Neither do I, but it gives me a bad feeling. Are you sure you want to do this? You could run you know, we could slip you out the back way."

"Yeah." Jessie said coming in from the living room. "Let's do that. Those guys are going to kill you Ben. It's obvious. You can't go with them."

"Come on. They're not going to kill me, Dennis wants to give me a job –and they're probably here this early because they wanted to get to me before the cops did."

"I think maybe we should put them off," John said, "at least until Reyes gets you that phone back. You'll have no way of getting help if something bad is going down."

"I'll take Jessie's phone." I said. "You both need to chill."

"Ben, this is serious." John said. "What's your strategy here? How far are you willing to go with this?"

"I've thought about it." I said. "I'm gonna play a part. I'm an ultra conservative right wing conspiracy nut -Glenn Beck and Michael Savage and Alex Jones combined. I know that stuff backwards and forwards."

"That could work." John said. "But what if they interview people who know you?"

"Nobody knows my political beliefs." I said. "I never talk about that shit. I firmly believe that in the history of political discussion no one has ever changed anyone else's mind. Ever. I just don't talk about it with people, it's useless."

"But you are one of the worst liars I've ever seen." Jessie said.

"You sure about that?" I asked her. "Would you know if I'd told you a good lie?"

"I hate you so much." She said.

"I hate you too honey." I said. I went into the bathroom and washed my face a bit and used the toothbrush that Jessie had brought. I got my clothes on and slipped Jessie's phone in my pocket with my wallet. "I'll call when I can." I said.

"Okay." John said. "Be carful out there."

"I will." I looked at Jessie but she had her back turned to me. John shrugged and patted me on the shoulder as I left the apartment.

Dennis Reston was sitting in the passenger seat of a black Ford Excursion, and Mr. gaudy-watch was behind the wheel. When I got in the back seat they interrupted their conversation for a moment to acknowledge my presence and Dennis continued talking as we pulled away from the curb. "So the guy's kid is sitting there at the kitchen table, I don't know if you know his kid, he's maybe about seven or eight, I forget his name. Anyway the kid's face is all fucked up." Dennis said. "It had stitches all down his nose and across his cheek and you could just tell from looking at this kid that he was traumatized you know? Ralph's there on the back porch petting his new fucking Rottweiler and really, I don't want to ask you know? But I have to, I say 'Ralph what happened to the kid' and guess what he says."

"Rottweiler." The little guy driving said.

"Bingo. 'He doesn't know how to handle Deuce' he says –that's the fucking dog's name, Deuce. This guy's petting the dog while he's telling me this!"

"Like it's the kid's fault." The driver said.

"Yeah!" Dennis said. He turned to me. "You have a dog?"

"Nope." I said.

"So I have to do something right? I'm not a hard on or anything but this is too much, so I'm like looking at the dog and looking at Ralph, just watching."

"Fuckin' Ralph." The little guy said.

"Yeah, and he's so in love with this dog it could make you sick. He's baby talking the dog and showing me where the dog likes to be scratched, and meanwhile every time I go near the thing he's growling. So the other guests arrive and we're grilling on the back porch and Ralph is showing everybody how he throws a piece of meat in the air and the dog can catch it. He thinks this is just precious you know? That's when I get my idea. I have in my possession at the time a few Oxycotins. The big ones you know? So I get one of these out and I'm holding it, down low, just waiting for my moment."

"You didn't."

"Yes I did. Evelyn came out with drinks and everyone was distracted for a moment. I gave the mutt a chance though, all I did was throw the pill in the air, he didn't have to catch it if he didn't want to."

"But he did." The driver said.

"He did." Dennis said. "Swallowed it whole. That was the end of Deuce."

"Must've ruined the cookout." I said.

"Not really." Dennis said. "We were almost done eating when they noticed the dog was acting weird. Evelyn put him inside and we finished eating and had a couple more drinks and eventually everybody left. It wasn't until the next day that Ralph called and told me Deuce had died. They thought he'd gotten ahold of some auto coolant or something."

"You never liked dogs did you?" The driver said.

"Hell no." He said. "They kill babies -three or four a year. But that particular dog had it coming. And so did Ralph -I mean, if you don't have the sense to put down a dog that attacked your son, then I have no sympathy for you."

"Sounds like you just did the kennel's job for 'em." I said. "And at the kennel they kill 'em with gas. I'd rather OD on Oxycotin than be gassed to death anyway. That dog probably went out high as a kite."

Dennis and the driver laughed. "That's right." Dennis said. "I was thinking about charging Ralph for the pill too, I mean those things are twenty bucks apiece. But I let it go. Better he thinks the dog ate some coolant."

"I don't think I've ever met you." I said to the guy driving the SUV.

"Sorry about that." Dennis said. "This is Mario, Mario this is Ben." Mario glanced at me in the rearview and nodded.

"You guys always get up this early?"

"Hell no." Mario said. "We been up all night."

"Oh." I said. "Where are we headed?"

"The flats." Dennis said even though we were already in the flats. I had a good idea of where we were going by then and pretty soon we were pulling up to Warren Auto-Body.

"Look what those fucking bitches did to my car." He said as we entered the garage. The Escalade was up on a lift and aside from the back window and two side windows being gone, the SUV had a smashed up front end and scratches that looked like giant claw marks down the side.

"Whoa." I said. "That's all from the fence?"

"Yeah, it's well constructed but it still wasn't going to hold up to my Caddy behemoth." Dennis said. He shut the garage door and nodded toward Mario who was walking to the back of the space. Mario opened an unpainted wooden door, and I followed him down some stairs into a large cement bunker that was under the shop. Dennis flipped on the lights and I saw that it was set up as a shooting range with a line on the floor, and a pulley system for the paper targets. Behind the paper target was a mangled block of plastic fixed to the wall. There was also a card table with mis-matched chairs, a beat up old couch and a mini-fridge. There were two centerfolds taped to the wall behind the card table that looked like they came from Hustler or one of the lower-class porn mags. The possibility that they might kill me suddenly seemed very real.

Dennis pointed at one of the chairs and told me to sit. They sat facing me and Mario lit a cigarette before asking if I wanted one. I said no thanks, but Dennis took one and I felt stupid being the only one not smoking. "What's up guys?" I asked. "Is everything cool?"

"Don't be nervous." Dennis said. "We're not trying to freak you out by bringing you here. In fact we want to help you, but we just have to ask you a few questions first. We like to know who the hell we're helping. This is just a place we play cards sometimes. I'd take you to my place but my niece is visiting this week and I don't want to wake her." He leaned back in his chair and took a hit from his cigarette. "I'm curious what you told the cops the other night."

"Not much." I said. "I told them pretty much the truth, and the truth is that I really don't know much at all. I told them you thought I was trying to break in and by the time you realized I was just there to help, the ski-mask crew had already started shooting."

"Did you tell them my name?" Dennis asked.

"No." I said.

"But you knew my name, why not tell them?"

"Because I figured it would open up a line of questioning I didn't want to get into."

"Like why did you come into my store to buy a gun on Monday."

"Exactly." I said.

"And why _did_ you come into my store? We know it wasn't because you wanted to carry a gun. You weren't carrying it that night."

"I wanted the gun." I said. "I'm just not sure how to use it yet. I never had a chance to take it to a range or anything so it would be pretty silly to go around packing a gun you know? I've never even shot one."

"It's easy." Mario said. "You just pull the trigger."

"There's lots of places to buy guns." Dennis said. "Why my store?"

"Freddie told me about it."

"Before he died." Mario said.

"Yeah obviously."

"You were good friends with Freddie?" Dennis asked.

"No, I wouldn't say good friends." I said. "One of the guards at Lakeview left a gun magazine in the gatehouse and Freddie saw me reading it. He asked if I was a gun owner and we just started talking about it. He told me if I ever needed a gun to go see you."

"And who do you think killed Freddie?" Dennis asked. "Do you have any thoughts on that?"

"I have no clue." I said.

"One popular theory is that it was David Telano." Dennis said. "Your friend who you were helping when Freddie died. What do you think of that?"

"It's possible." I said. "It's not like I was with him the whole time he was hiding, but I don't think it was him."

"Who then?" Dennis asked.

"These psycho vigilante bitches who shot up Pierson's airport would be the first on my list." I said.

"Yeah, the psycho bitches," Dennis said, "did you tell the police that it was women that shot up Pierson's place?"

"No."

"And why not?"

" _I don't know nothin' I ain't see nothing_.'" I said. "Why mention it."

"That's good," Dennis said, "that's the right attitude to take with the cops. How did they leave it with you?"

"They told me it was a matter of national security and that I can't tell anyone what I saw."

"And what do you think of that?"

"Fine with me." I said. They just looked back at me in silence. "Okay I'm curious," I said, "but it's none of my business so I'll stay out of it. I saw how quick the feds got there -obviously something important was going on. For all I know those bitches could be far-left radical extremists. I'm just glad I'm still breathing and not in jail."

"Yet." Mario said.

"Yet." I agreed.

Dennis let some silence ride before he spoke again. "After I talked to you about working for me I did a little research on you Ben Perkins. Turns out you're an enigma."

"News to me." I said.

"You were basically a shit student, although you had some bright spots in English and History. Divorced parents, you stayed with your mom. One arrest, a couple of underage drinking citations, but nothing major. Did a year of community college, but you half-assed it, then held down a series of low paying shit jobs and never stayed past the two-year mark at any of them. You are not registered to vote and you live with an unremarkable young woman by the name of Jessica Stewart. These facts give me zero insight into who you actually are."

"We know he's loyal to his friends." Mario said. "He put his ass on the line for that Telano fuckup."

Dennis looked at Mario. "You got 'loyal friend' from that?" He asked. "I got dumb ass."

I laughed. "You're both right." I said. "I'm a loyal friend, which in David's case makes me a dumb ass."

"I guess what I'm wondering Ben, is who the fuck are you? What do you stand for? I've known aimless parasites, scumbags and pederasts that start families and hold down jobs. Don't you want any of that? Don't you at least want money? I mean at least that... So you don't have a calling, don't you want a Mercedes? What the hell are you living for?"

I looked down at the table and took a shallow breath. "I guess I-" I looked at the two men across the table from me and stopped for a moment. "I guess I don't know." I said. "I mean maybe I'm still waiting to find purpose in my life. I've got my eyes open, you know? I'm looking for something I just don't know what it is yet. I thought on nine-eleven that I found it. I never even thought about politics before that, but after nine-eleven I was ready to join the military, I really was. But the more I thought about it the more I realized it wouldn't really help. What's one more soldier really? And what is the military but another branch of the federal government, that den of thieves and snakes all out for themselves, ready to sell out America to the highest bidder. That's why I'm not registered to vote. It's all a big lie, the whole thing. The media props up these puppets on the right and left and make this huge show of letting you choose your puppet, but they'll never show you who's pulling the strings. I'm sorry, I know you work for the government, but it's a cheap hustle in my book."

Dennis smiled a little, but Mario sat expressionless. "I don't work for the government anymore." Dennis said. "Although I still maintain some privileges. The fact of the matter is Ben, a lot of people who work in government would agree with your assessment of it. There are a few of us who aren't afraid to do the right thing, whether or not it's authorized by the ACLU."

"I know." I said. "I saw the pictures from Abu Graib and Guantanamo. I can't believe people are whining about that shit. It's us or them and these fucking rug-munchers are surprised that we're choosing us!" I laughed, but was not joined by the two men on the other side of the table. "If I had joined the military I think I would be one of those guys in the pictures, giving a big thumbs up to the pile of naked terrorists. I'd be the one on trial right now. Sometimes I feel like nobody around me can even see reality, even my girlfriend."

"She doesn't share your views?" Dennis asked.

"No, but we don't really talk about it that much. If I'm listening to talk radio she wants to change it, you know? She wants to hear rock and roll."

"You've lived together a long time." Dennis said. "Didn't you ever want to get married and start a family?"

"No." I said. "Marriage seems like something we would do for all the people in our families, not for ourselves. Put on a big show for the aunts and uncles, ugh, who needs it? She feels the same way about it too. And kids? Fuck that -where's the upside? You guys have kids?"

"I got a daughter." Mario said. "Nineteen."

"Okay, so maybe I'm just fucked up, but I really see having kids as a crap shoot. I mean pick a random person on the street and chances are I'm not going to like that person. I think having a kid is like that. I know most people think that the kid is going to have half your personality and half the woman's, but I don't think it works like that. I think the kid's going to come out with their own unique personality, and the chances that the kid's going to be some kind of dick are about equal the chances that any person you meet will be. In other words the chances are good that you'll be forever yoked to some asshole. Who wants to take the risk?" The two of them seemed amused so I quit while I was ahead.

"Okay Ben, I think I can work with you." Dennis said. "What do you think Mario?"

"He's okay." Mario said.

"We'll take you along on a job or two and if you do okay we'll make sure you've got some money coming in." Dennis said. "Assuming you can work out your legal problems. It shouldn't be hard for a person who knows national secrets, know what I mean?"

I told him I did.

When I got back to the apartment Jessie was sitting at the kitchen table having coffee. "I'm in." I told her.

"What'd you have to do?" Jessie asked.

"Nothing," I said, "they just asked me some questions."

"That's strange." She said. "Pap thought they'd test you first. All they did was talk?"

"Yup." I said. "Where is he?"

"He went to Lakeview after you texted him you were okay. He said we could stay as long as we wanted."

I rubbed my eyes. "Jesus I'm tired." I said. "That pullout bed was brutal."

"It's not a bed it's a torture device." She said.

"Let's go home."

"Are you sure? What about the cops?"

"What the hell, I doubt they're keeping a twenty-four hour vigil at the house. We'll just slip in the back, and get a couple good hours of sleep before you have to get to work."

# THIRTY

I got about an hour and a half of sleep before Borgano kicked the back door in. At the time I didn't know what it was, and I got up in a hurry and called out for Jessie. I heard no reply so I headed toward the noise and met Borgano and two uniformed cops pointing their guns at me in the hall. Borgano commanded me to get down on my stomach. He was on top of me in an instant with his knees on my back. He got one of my wrists and squeezed it so hard he seemed to be trying to break it. "Get his other hand! Get his other hand!" He shouted at one of the cops, who quickly complied. I was handcuffed, and they patted me down even though I was in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. They hauled me to my feet and marched me into the kitchen where a female officer was waiting with Jessie. I wished I could've gotten another ten minutes of sleep.

"Ben Perkins you are under arrest for harboring a fugitive." Borgano said. "Give him his rights Lawrence, I'll get him some pants."

"You coulda knocked." I said. "You didn't have to kick the door in."

"It's more fun that way." Borgano said.

Lawrence told me about my rights and then he and the other cop helped me put my pants on. My boxers were bunched up in the process and I had no way to fix them. I told Jessie to call Thomas Delaney the Third as I was walked out of my house and put in the back of a cruiser.

When we got to the station, they put me in the same room I'd been in before, in the chair with the thin cushion and the metal rod. They'd taken the cuffs off at least, and I was able to straighten out my shorts. I sat in there alone for a minute before I got up and switched chairs with the one opposite, which was a wooden armchair and altogether more comfortable.

Borgano came in and ordered me back to the other chair. He did it coolly, with no hint that it bothered him. "You know this is bullshit, right?" I said. "I mean it's just wrong. I didn't help David. I lost my job over this, and it's just pure bullshit."

"Okay," he said, "maybe it's a mistake. I've made mistakes before. We can clear this whole thing up right now. Were you going in and out of the Relna house while they were gone?"

"Yeah, to water their plants." I said. "Phil Relna is a friend of mine."

"We're going to check on that Ben," he said, "I have a call in to Phil Relna. And in the meantime we're supposed to believe that your other friend, the one wanted for homicide, just happened to choose that same house as his hideout?"

"No," I said, "the key to the place was under a pot, and some kids from Lakeview must've seen where it was hidden when I went in there to water the plants. They'd been using the place to smoke their dope. Ask Niti Ravhandies. We practically caught them red handed."

"So the dope-fiends let him in?"

"That'd be my guess." I said.

"He told us he got in through a window. We did find a window broken -with glass on the outside. Seems like the kind of thing that a person would do if he were trying to divert suspicion from a helpful friend." He said.

"Right, I'm sure David didn't want to get the dope-fiends in trouble."

He smiled. "Then there's the matter of a phone call made from your phone to the Relna place on the night of the bru-ha-ha down in Everett. Are you in the habit of calling plants?"

"No." I said. "Obviously I don't call plants. That's a little silly, I mean, I assume that was some kind of joke-"

"Why did you make that call?"

"Oh, I don't remember. I can't think why I would've called the Relna place that night." I said. "I mean there was so much going on, what with the murder and everything. I'm sure you'd rather hear about that, right? That's a much more serious crime than harboring a fugitive isn't it? It was a group of vigilantes trying to disrupt a drug smuggling ring. I have plenty of proof."

"I asked about a phone call." He said, keeping a forced coolness to his voice.

"If you're not interested, I'm sure the judge will be." I said. "And the press. I'll make sure they all know to come to my arraignment hearing. Unless this is some kind of mistake."

"You are a very stupid young man." He said.

"I'm thirty." I said.

He went to the door and opened it, and made a signal to a cop who came in and pulled me out of the chair by my arm. He led me from the little room down a hall, past three empty holding cells to one with five guys in it. He unlocked the door and pushed me in among them. There were a couple of Hispanic teenagers in the corner, sitting on a metal bench, an old black guy sleeping with his head against the cinderblock wall, and two gangster types, one black and one white, who were staring at me.

"Hi." I said to them. They did not respond. There was no room on the metal bench, so I leaned against the wall and rubbed my head. My hair was sticking straight up in the middle from bed, and I realized I probably looked crazy. I smiled a bit, not feeling so vulnerable anymore. I figured if anyone messed with me, I could just bark at them.

My stay in the big house was brief. Half an hour or a little more before a guard came in and told me to follow him. We walked past the empty cells again and this time went into the main station area that was open to the public. I saw Jessie standing next to an overweight, balding man who I took to be the lawyer, Delaney. "You're free to go." The cop said. "The charges have been suspended for now."

"Thanks." I said. I walked past him toward Jessie, but she wasn't looking at me, she was looking at the cop.

"Hey!" She shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "What about our back door? You fucking cops can't just kick in our door for no reason. You think our landlord's gonna pay for that? It's gonna cost us at least a hundred bucks."

Delaney looked alarmed and put a hand on her arm. "Ms. Stewart, _please_." He said.

I caught her eye and mouthed for her to shut up through clenched teeth. She sighed heavily. I turned to the cop who seemed mildly annoyed. "We all make mistakes." I said. "I'm not really worried about the door." Someone was moving toward us on the right and I looked over to see Borgano coming at me. He had been close enough to hear everything.

"We're not done with you." He said. "Just 'cause we're not holding you at the moment doesn't mean you're off the hook. This isn't over." He was right in my face.

Thomas Delaney the Third took over the situation as only a lawyer could. He put himself between Borgano and me. "My client is grateful that the charges against him have been suspended. The charges against him are the product of a simple misunderstanding, and I'm sure they'll be dropped in short order. Thank you detective, we'll be getting out of your hair now." He turned and nodded to the door, and we followed him out. When we were on the sidewalk he laughed a little. "Ms. Stewart, I admire your pluck, but it's not generally advisable to yell at the police."

"They didn't have to kick our door in." She said. "They coulda knocked."

He nodded sympathetically, and turned to me. "Contrary to what the detective said, this _is_ over. They won't be bothering you anymore. Come on, I'll walk you to your car." We began to walk.

"There's a video you should see." I said. "It could help with the David Telano case."

"I have it already. John Marchin brought me a copy this morning. I plan on entering it as evidence as soon as possible." Sensing Jessie's confusion, he continued: "The evidence will be sealed in the interest of national security, and the only person who'll ever see it will be the judge. So far David has only actually been charged with the murder of Becky Pierson and the attempted murder of Junior Pierson, and that's all he _will_ be charged with. I've discovered that the detectives working this case believe that Junior Pierson committed the Porgett and Divos murders -David is no longer a suspect in those. We can get the case against David thrown out on sealed exculpatory evidence. It doesn't even matter if the evidence is strong or not, because no one will ever see it, and believe me, that judge doesn't want to open up a can of federally sanctioned worms in his courtroom."

"That's great." I said. We arrived at our car and I turned and faced him. "And thanks for getting me out of there."

"Oh, I didn't do that." He said. "When we got here they'd already suspended the charges. They might've kept you there for another few hours, just to prove a point, but they weren't going to charge you."

I told him thanks anyway and shook his hand. We got into our car and headed to the PFPFP. Jessie was late, but we were laughing and talking about how our luck was finally changing.

When I got home John was waiting for me. He had picked up my phone from Reyes. "The panic button is the star key." He told me. "The phone doesn't even have to be on for it to work. It's a direct line to her phone, so if she gets the panic signal, she'll activate the GPS and find you wherever you are. She wanted me to remind you to only use it if your life was in danger."

We were sitting in the living room and John stretched out a bit on the couch. "I think we have to talk about the end-game in this thing." He said. "I'd like you and Jess to get passports, just in case. If you can get some proof that Junior and his thugs are trafficking in children, you have to be able to disappear after you get it out there. You can stay with my sister in Winnipeg for a while if you have to. Reyes knows that they wont let you get close without having something they can use against you, and she's prepared to give you cover, but it's not unlimited. We should have two escape plans, one if you have to run from the Air-Bridge, and one from if you have to run from the cops."

"You think it's a suicide mission John?"

"No, not quite." He said. "I think you've just got to be smart. You've got at least a fifty-fifty shot."

"That's comforting." I said. "You think it's worth it?"

"This thing has been going on since the eighties," he said, "god only knows how many children they've stuffed down the black hole. That's not even accounting for the misery they've caused with the heroin. I wish to hell I could do what you're doing, I really do. I admire you for this Ben, I always told Jess I thought you were a good egg."

"I'm not even really sure what it is I have to do though."

"All you need to do is get one good piece of evidence. Gretchen has Amanda Porgett's research, so if you get some cell phone video of children being put on a plane for example, that should be enough. We can put it together with Gretchen's info and hand it over to some friendly media outlet and you and Jess can disappear until the bastards are in jail. Just don't do anything to make yourself an unreliable witness."

"If he offers me money, I'm going to take it." I said. "I got bills."

"Oh, that reminds me." John said, pulling an envelope from his coat pocket. "Your last paycheck from the GSA."

"Thanks." I said. "It's weird to think that I won't be going back to Lakeview. I kinda got used to the place."

"Don't be so sure." John said. "It hasn't been made public yet but Junior Pierson is being ejected from Lakeview. The council met and discussed it, and it was decided that everything that's happened in Lakeview this month was his fault, and that under the town charter they could be deemed undesirable tenants and ejected."

"His father was one of the founding members." I said. "He practically built the place."

"It doesn't matter." John said. "The rules apply to everyone. There was hemming and hawing about how he'd just lost his wife, but ultimately they had to do what was best for the community."

"He owns the biggest house in town." I said. "What's going to happen to it?"

"He has to sell it." John said.

"What did you tell the council?" I asked

"I just spelled everything out for them, how Freddie, David Telano, and Junior were all working together, and how none of this would've happened if the Junior hadn't been there. The Council agreed."

"He owns the Guardian Security Agency." I said. "What about that?"

"Oh he still owns it." John said. "But the GSA's contract with Lakeview has been cancelled."

I smiled. "I suppose they're looking for another security company to take its place."

"Yes as a matter of fact they are, and it just so happens that a new one has recently been formed. We haven't even filed articles of incorporation yet, and we've already secured a very lucrative contract." He said. "You and I are successful entrepreneurs now, which I'd say calls for a celebration."

We had some beers and kicked around a few names for our company, but nothing was sticking. He left when I went to pick up Jess. She spent the evening making calls to potential weed connections with no luck. We fell asleep on the couch watching TV, and I woke up after one and roused Jessie and told her to come to bed. It took a long time for me to fall back to sleep.

It was barely five in the morning when the house-phone woke me up. I had to lean over Jessie to reach the receiver. "Hello?"

"Ben?"

"Who's this?"

"Be ready to go in twenty minutes. We'll be around to pick you up." I heard a click before I could ask where we were going.

# THIRTY-ONE

Mario and Dennis arrived about a half-hour later in Mario's black Ford Excursion. I decided to bring my gun even though Jessie was against the idea. I figured it would go with my true-believer persona so I stuck it in the waistband of my pants, in back. They pulled up out front and honked. I put on a black button-up shirt over a gray T-shirt and gave Jessie a kiss. "Don't go." She said. "Just tell them you're sick, or your mom's in the hospital or something."

"Nah, I'm fine." I said. "I'll be careful."

"I'm going to call Reyes and tell her what's up." She said. "That way we can follow your GPS signal."

"Don't call her." I said. "I'm okay Jess, don't worry about me." It made me feel less nervous to comfort her.

I said good morning to Mario and Dennis as I climbed into the back seat of the SUV. Mario was behind the wheel and Led Zeppelin was playing on the stereo, which seemed odd that early. "Where we headed?"

"Coffee first." Mario said.

"Then what?"

"You'll see." Dennis said. "It's a surprise. Did you bring your piece?"

"Yeah of course."

"Good."

We stopped at a 24 hour Sunoco just south of Shoreston and each got a big styrofoam cup filled with burnt coffee. Dennis paid. We got back in the car and sat there with the motor running while Mario got his coffee and napkins situated in the cup holder. He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a case about the size of an Altoids tin. "You want some coke?" He asked me.

I did not want any coke. "Sure." I said.

He flipped open the center console between the two front seats and pulled out a piece of glass that he laid across the console. He detached a small spoon from the lid of his tin and scooped a pile onto the glass. Dennis began chopping it with a credit card. It was yellowish and clumpy and he kept having to stop and clean the edge of the card. He formed three lines. Mario put his tin back in his pocket and rolled up a twenty-dollar bill. He leaned over and snorted up a line loudly, and then held his nose and put his head back. He handed the rolled-up bill to Dennis, who snorted his line and then cleaned the residue off the glass with his finger and stuck it in his mouth. He handed me the rolled-up twenty.

One thing I never understood about cocaine users was how they could share something that they stuck up their nose, like a twenty-dollar bill or a straw. I didn't want to be rude so I leaned over the console and began snorting. I had to stop halfway through the line to cough. I swallowed and tasted the familiar bitterness going down my throat. I tried to swallow a second time, but I couldn't feel it. "I haven't done this in a long time." I said. I leaned over and finished the rest of it. "That's good shit." I handed Mario back his twenty. "Thanks."

"It's no-cut." Mario said. "The best." He turned up the music and backed out of the Sunoco. We got onto the highway and nobody said anything for a long time. My heart was racing, and I wasn't sure if it was the coke or because I was nervous. The lack of conversation seemed strange, and I was afraid it was a bad sign. I kept taking sips of my coffee even though it was disgusting.

We got off the highway and I knew exactly where we were going. I used to go fishing with my cousins, and we would always go the same way to the Marina.

"We going on a boat ride?" I said.

"You got it." Dennis answered.

"Who's boat?' I asked.

"Mine." He said.

"We fishing?"

"No," Dennis said, "not today." He looked at Mario, and smiled. "It's more of a pleasure cruise." He turned and looked at me. "You'll see." He said. I swallowed some more coke that had lingered in my nasal cavity and felt my heart race again. It was very strong.

We got out of the SUV and I followed them to the main gate. You were supposed to sign in, but Dennis just nodded to the guy behind the desk and he hit the buzzer. I dumped the rest of my coffee into a garbage can as we went down the ramp to the pier. We walked all the way out to the second to last slip. His boat was a late model Carver, just under forty feel long, and it looked fast. There was an upper level in front where the helm was, and below was a large deck. Underneath the wheel there was a sliding door that opened onto steps to the cabin below. It was a white boat with silver trim polished and shining in the sunlight. On the side, written in large cursive script, was the name of the boat: The Menace.

Once we were on board they opened the sliding doors to the cabin and Mario went down below while I stood there. "Nice boat." I said to Dennis as he unhitched it from the dock.

"Thanks." He said. "You like boats?"

"Sure." I said.

That old song 'Rags to Riches' came on over the speakers and Dennis smiled. "The Good Fellas soundtrack. He loves that." He said. He went up to the upper level and stood behind the wheel. The motors coughed to life behind me and they were plenty loud. We began moving backward out of the slip very slowly.

Mario came up from below and handed me a water bottle. "Hang on." Dennis called down to us when we had backed away from the dock. Mario grabbed the railing to the stairs that led to the upper deck and I reached for the edge of the doorway but didn't quite make it in time. Dennis gunned the engine and spun the boat around and I stumbled and dropped my water bottle trying not to fall. I got hold of the railing as my bottle rolled all the way to the back of the boat and went right through one of the drainage slots into the water. The engines were generating a huge wake behind us, and we were flying. I'd never been in a boat that fast. Mario laughed at me. "You okay down there?" Dennis called down.

"Yeah." I said. "Can't this thing go any faster?"

He nodded and the boat accelerated. Mario was saying something to me but I could barely hear him over the engines and the wind. I got closer and he repeated, "I cut a line for you downstairs. There's more water in the fridge down there too."

"Thanks." I yelled, smiling. I went down the stairs and looked around. There was a table bolted down with a bench around it like a booth at a restaurant. Two lines of coke were set out on the formica tabletop and a short segment of straw next to them. It had been cut with a gold Visa card.

I scooped one of the lines into my hand. The bathroom was right next to the table, and I went in and lifted the lid on the toilet and dumped my line in there and flushed. I went to the fridge and got a water bottle. I was about to go back up to the deck, but then I decided to look around for a moment first. There were shelves with notebooks, compasses, maps and other nautical devices that I didn't recognize. There were some photographs in frames on the walls. A longer haired Dennis shaking hands with Ronald Regan at what looked like a formal dinner. There was a shot of him standing next to Bush Senior in an office, and a picture of him and a very old Frank Sinatra. There was a wooden sliding door at the back of the room that was partway open, and I saw that behind it was a small bedroom with a low ceiling. I slid the door a little farther open and looked in.

There was someone on the bed and it took me a moment before I knew that it was Gretchen Salle.

She was facing me with her hands cuffed and connected to her ankles which were chained together, keeping her in a leaned over position, sideways on the bed. The chains around her ankles were connected to the bed frame, which was bolted down, and she had duct tape wrapped around her head at mouth level. Her eyes widened and then narrowed suddenly when she saw me, like she was trying to scream. I pulled out my phone and hit the pound key. I wanted to say something to her, but I was at a loss. I slid the door shut and went back up to the deck. The music continued to play and I tried to remember which scene in the movie it went with. It gave my mind something to do other than to think about Gretchen tied up below. Mario was sitting on a deck chair and he motioned for me to sit next to him. I took a chair from the open storage compartment and unfolded it. I sat next to him and played around with my nose like I'd just inhaled a line.

"I'm not used to doing such strong coke." I said.

"Yeah, most of the stuff on the street is shit." He said. "Me and Dennis have been up all night on it."

"You guys partying?"

"No, working." He said. "You'll see." I nodded and took a sip of my water.

"You okay kid?" He asked me. "You feeling sick?"

"A little." I said. "Between that coffee and the coke and the waves-"

"Look at the horizon." Mario said. "And if you do throw up, you'll probably feel better."

I watched the horizon like he said, and I tried to regulate my breathing, but it didn't help. I got up and puked over the side. Right afterwards, the engines cut off and I wondered if Dennis had stopped because of me. I wiped my hand across my mouth and looked around. When we'd started out we'd passed some fishermen, but now we were miles from anything and all I could see was lake in all directions. I took a mouthful of water from my bottle and spit it over the rail. Dennis was coming down from the upper deck. "A little off your game this morning?"

"Yeah, I guess so." I said. "You don't feel like taking me back to dry land do you?"

"Pretty soon." He said.

"I cut you a line downstairs." Mario told him. I slumped back into my chair. I felt the handgun pressing into my back, and it seemed ridiculous all of a sudden. Dennis went down below deck and came back up a few minutes later with Gretchen. She had to walk all hunched over and could only take little steps because of the chains. He pushed her down in the back of the boat and she sat there looking at us. It seemed like she was trying to control her breathing.

"Well," Dennis said, "this is the person who raided the Pierson place the other night. At least this is one of them. She's the ringleader. The other ones will be taken care of too, but this is the one who planned it. She was giving the orders, and she killed Ray."

"Who is she?" I asked.

"Her name's Gretchen Salle." He said. "She's Amanda Porgett's ex-girlfriend." He looked at her. "They were dykes."

"Probably just never met the right guy." Mario said.

Gretchen tried to say something to him, but it came out as an unintelligible grunt.

"That's right." Dennis shrugged. "Or she hates her daddy. In any case, we're going to put her out of her misery."

"You're gonna shoot her?" I asked.

"No." Dennis said. "You are."

I looked at him for signs that he was kidding, but I didn't see any. "Hey, uh, I can't kill someone." I said. "I mean she's tied up here. How fair is that?"

"I guess we could uncuff her and give her a gun too, then it would be fair." Dennis said. "Would that be better?"

Mario laughed.

"I just feel a little creeped out by the idea of killing a woman who's chained up."

"Here's the thing." Dennis said. "No one will ever, ever know. She goes in the lake -end of story. Me and Mario aren't going to say anything. This isn't high school, no one's gonna rat you out. You put a bullet in her, we dump the body, we get you back to dry land and buy you a big steak."

"This is so fucked up." I said, looking at Gretchen. She had her eyes closed, and I thought she might be praying.

"Yeah, it's fucked up, but so is everything." Dennis said. "The world is a fucked up place, and believe me, this bitch would kill you if she could. You me or him. She would do it in a second. What can we do? Let her go? No -she's not getting off this boat alive, how about you?"

"Are you serious?" I asked. "You'd kill me too?"

"This guy's a fucking genius." Mario said.

"You said you wanted to kill terrorists, here's your chance. You're either with us or with her, and you're not getting off this boat unless you're with us." I looked at them. It seemed like they were having fun. I didn't know what to say.

Mario pulled a gun and pointed it at my head. "You get the girl and I'll take this one." He said to Dennis.

"No, wait." Dennis said. "He's just nervous, that's all. Remember the first time you did somebody? Weren't you nervous?"

"I forget." Mario said.

"Well I was nervous _my_ first time. He's going to rise to the occasion here." Dennis said.

"I got an idea." Mario said. "Why don't we all shoot her at the same time. That way Mahatma here only has to live with a third of the guilt."

"Yeah." Dennis said. "Like a firing squad, only we all got live rounds. I like it. Get your gun out kid."

"Fuck." I said. I pulled the gun from my waistband.

"You loaded?" Mario asked.

"Yeah." I said.

Gretchen opened her eyes and looked at us. She had gray eyes.

"Alright then, on the count of three we point and shoot. Ready?" Dennis pulled a small gun from his pocket.

I didn't have a choice -I had to do it.

"One. Two."

I was shaking.

"Three."

I did nothing. They did nothing. There was a moment of silence before Mario started to say something, but I interrupted. "-I'll do it, I'll do it, I fucking swear I will." I said. "I don't care about this bitch, I don't, I just never did this before. Gimme a break guys, come on." The words were rushing out of my mouth. "I didn't wake up this morning thinking I was gonna kill someone, you know? Gimme a minute. Shit! Gimme two minutes. I can do this, I swear, just hold up. I'm shaking and shit. Let me breathe. I need to calm down -steady myself. It's a lot of pressure here, come on, I'm sick. I'm fucking crashing. I just need some of that coke. I need drugs. I don't want to be sober when I do this. I'll do it I swear. Gimme a couple minutes to gather myself, that's all. I just need some of that good, good blow, so I can be numb -so I can do it cold-blooded. One more rail and I'm a killer, I promise."

I was afraid if I stopped talking they would kill me. But when I did finally stop they both just shook their heads at me. Mario was smiling. "Cut him a line." Dennis said. "Make it a cable, he needs it. Fuck it, cut three, we'll all do one."

Mario shrugged and tucked his gun in his waistband and I did the same. I followed him down the stairs and Dennis followed me. "What about her?" I said.

"What's she gonna do?" Dennis said. "Let her try something, it'd be funny."

Mario and I sat at the table and Dennis leaned against the sink. Mario opened his tin and dumped what was left onto the Formica. "I don't like to waste this shit." He said as he started chopping with the credit card. "So you'd better do this. I don't want to get you high just to kill you. That would be pretty stupid."

"I'll do it." I said. "If she doesn't escape. What's she doing?"

Dennis looked up the stairs. "She's in the tackle cabinet." He said. "There's nothing in there, let her have her hope."

"What about the harpoon gun?" Mario asked.

"Mack borrowed it." He said.

Mario snorted up his line and handed the straw to Dennis. When he was finished he handed it to me. The amount of coke in my line was ridiculous. I leaned over and snorted half of it and had to stop. I held my nose and tried to swallow I was all numb through the esophagus. I leaned over to finish it and when I was halfway through I heard a strange pop and shooshing sound. I thought I had broken something in my brain from all the cocaine, but then I realized it was from outside. "What the fuck was that?" Mario said.

"Fuck, the stupid bitch shot off the flare gun." Dennis said. He headed toward the stairs. Mario was laughing. I got the gun from my waist.

"No one around to see it." Mario said. Dennis went up the stairs, leaving me alone with Mario. I pointed my gun at his head and pulled the trigger. Nothing. "Hey!" He said "You don't fuckin' point a gun at someone's head!" Broken? Jammed? "I mean it's just basic gun safety-" Safety -the safety was on. I flipped it down while he continued. "Even kidding around, you don't do it. Even if it's not loaded-" I shot him in the head and he rocked back before flopping forward and sinking under the table. I heard a thump on the upper deck and vaguely knew that Dennis had thrown Gretchen down.

"What the fuck was that?" He yelled. I got out from behind the table and headed for the bedroom. "You can't shoot in my cabin." I heard him say, with his voice getting closer. His footsteps came down the stairs and then stopped when he must've seen Mario's body under the table. I was in the bedroom buzzing high and tight. The thought that he might bust into the room flashed through my brain and scared me, so I jumped through the doorway shooting twice before I knew where he was. The room was empty. No, he hadn't had time to leave, I spun around in time to see him against the wall. I started to point my gun at him, but we were too close and he slapped it out of my hand. It hit my foot and I caught a glimpse of it skidding far away. I saw that his other hand held a gun, and it was coming up so I grabbed his wrist and pushed it away. He got my hair and slammed my head against the wall, but I kept holding his wrist. It seemed close to my face, so I bit into it. I heard him exhale loudly, and I realized I was biting him but hadn't broken the skin. I bit down harder and ripped. I felt hot wetness rush into my mouth and onto my face. Dennis was screaming and I wondered why I couldn't taste it. I took hold of his shirt and pulled him downward, tangling up our legs. We fell and I lost hold of his wrist, now slippery with blood. I heard a shot and reached toward where it came from and felt the gun in his hand, against his leg. I pulled it free and tossed it away. Before I knew what I was doing I was on my feet kicking Dennis in the head and neck as hard as I could, over and over again. After I knew what I was doing I kicked him two more times.

His hands were covering his face from my kicks, and I thought the fight was over and that I had won. I started across the room to pick up his gun, but he threw his legs up and tripped me. He was still in good shape apparently, because he was on me quick and forced me to the ground. I tried to twist myself around, and succeeded, but then regretted it, because now I was on my back -a harder position to get up from. I was half under the table and my shoulder was on Mario's foot. Dennis' hand was on my face and two of his fingers gripped into my eye socket. I'd closed my eyes in time, but he used the harsh grip to slam my head against the floor. His hand slipped down and his forearm wedged against my neck. He pressed down mercilessly, strangling me while his other hand pushed against my shoulder, holding me in place. I didn't know how things had turned in his favor so quickly. I couldn't breathe or make a sound. What little fight I had left went into my legs, which were kicking at nothing as he strangled me with his forearm.

My right arm was free and I beat against the side of his head to no effect. With him on top of me and my shoulder against the floor, my blows were coming from my elbow and were weak. I felt something hard above my head and instinctively grabbed onto it. It fit in my hand and was heavy. I realized as I brought it down on Dennis' head that it was a gun. Mario's gun -I'd pulled it from his waistband. The blow from the butt of the gun interrupted the weight on my neck for a moment and I caught a short breath as I got my finger on the trigger. I squeezed and the pop brought Dennis down onto me. I gasped for breath, and realized he wasn't fighting anymore, I had killed him. I pushed him off and saw a hole in his temple the size of nickel.

I looked up to see Gretchen at the top of the stairs, hunched over with the tape around her head. My throat hurt like hell and every breath felt rough going in and rough coming out. My coughing only made it worse. I stood up, still wanting to run away from Dennis, even though he was dead. I threw down Mario's gun and backed away from the body.

Gretchen did her little small-step hunch walk down the stairs and over to my gun. She picked it up and nudged Dennis with her shoe. He didn't move, but she shot him in the head, and was making some barely audible screaming sound from beneath the tape. I went to her and put my hand on her shoulder. "He's dead." I said.

I went to the drawer by the fridge and found a steak knife. I peeled back the lower edge of the tape on her cheek, and pushed the knife up there, gently, with the dull side against her skin. I ripped at the tape with the knife, and repeated it a couple of times, until I had finally cut through it all. I pulled it off, across her mouth and a wadded up sock came out. She winced and coughed, and I pulled another wet sock from her mouth. She coughed and spit and tried to wipe her mouth off on her shoulder. "You fuckin' believe this shit?" She said. She turned to the corpse at her feet. "FUCK YOU!" She screamed. She looked at the one under the table. "I wish this were the ocean so we could feed them to the sharks."

I didn't know what to say. I guess I was crying.

"It's okay." She said. "We'll figure out what to do, don't worry. Hey, help me look for the keys, would you? I need to get out of these chains. Look through his pockets, -if they're not there, they may be on the other guy."

"Are we drifting?" I said.

"Yeah, I think so." She said. "But it's okay. We're in the middle of nowhere. Here hand me your phone, I'll try to call someone while you look for the keys."

"I hear a motor." I said.

"I hear it too." She said. "Find those keys! If it's some fishermen, they might call the coast guard on us." I looked through Dennis's pockets quickly as the sound of the motor got louder. There were only car keys and a wallet in there. I threw them on the table and was about to search Mario when I saw Dennis's coat hanging behind the door. I found a set of small keys in the inside pocket. They fit the lock at Gretchen's feet and I opened it and began taking the chain off. "Hello?" She said. "I can barely hear you." When the chain was off she stood and held the phone against her ear with her shoulder while she presented her handcuffs to me.

I looked out the window and saw a small speedboat approaching with three people in it. "They're coming right to us." I said. I unlocked her hands and she took off the cuffs and flung them across the room.

"This is Gretchen." She said. "Yes, I'm with him. We're fine." She looked at me with a relieved expression. "You are?" She said. "Yeah, that's us." I looked at the boat approaching and saw that John Marchin was at the helm and Reyes and Jessie were on board. The boat was called The Cavalier.

# THIRTY-TWO

"Everyone's dead." Gretchen told Reyes, helping her up the ladder.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"They were gonna kill me, but he shot them first." She said. "He shot the both of 'em. I woulda got the one, but he beat me to it. They're down in the cabin."

Reyes didn't answer, she just went down in the cabin to look for herself. Jessie got up the ladder and hugged me. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" She asked searching me with her eyes.

"No," I said, wiping off my mouth. "The blood's from Dennis. I bit a chunk off his wrist."

"Oh my god." She said. John had come up the ladder and he put a hand on my shoulder. Gretchen was peeling tape off of the back of her head when Reyes came back up. She was holding the three guns. She surveyed the horizon, looking for other boats.

When she was satisfied that we were alone she dumped the guns overboard and turned to us. "We gotta look for tarps or sheets or anything that we can wrap the bodies in." She said. "We need to find something heavy to weigh the bodies down. We want them to stay at the bottom of the lake."

"There's bedclothes downstairs." I said.

"Good, get them." She said.

I got chills walking through the small room with the corpses in it, but I got the comforter and fitted sheet off the bed and brought them out. John was in the cabin and we laid out the comforter next to Dennis. He was still warm when we rolled him onto it. We wrapped him up with his arms crossed and watched blood seep through the fabric. It had pooled where his body had been and I was amazed at how much there was. Reyes came down the stairs with a tarp and I could see Jessie and Gretchen dump a bunch of rusty chain up on the deck before they followed Reyes down into the cabin.

"We're in luck." Reyes said. "This boat is outfitted to sink bodies."

John and I pulled Mario out from under the table and his arm got wedged between the bench and the table's leg. It took me a long time to pull it free and I started to get sick to my stomach from looking at his purple face with the hole above the right eyebrow. I got him free and then I ran up on deck and puked over the side again.

When I came back down Jessie was standing to the side looking pale and scared. Gretchen and Reyes were wrapping up Mario in the tarp, and there was blood smeared everywhere. I helped John lift Dennis' corpse as Gretchen and Reyes half-carried, half-dragged Mario up the stairs, onto deck. We followed them up with Dennis, while Jessie hovered nervously. We did all this without talking, which seemed to be adding to a growing sense of horror. I took a deep breath when we had the bodies on deck. "Nice day." I said.

Reyes just looked at me. She untangled some chain and laid it out. We went about wrapping the bodies in the chain, feet first, being careful to wrap the ends in tight so the chain wouldn't unravel on the way to the bottom of the lake. "Are you cold?" Reyes asked me when Jessie and Gretchen had finished wrapping up Mario.

"No, why?"

"Your teeth are chattering." She said.

I realized she was right. "Weird, I, uh, I guess it must be nerves." I said. I felt like crying again, but held it back. "This is really fucked up isn't it?"

"No." She said. "This is exactly what these men deserve. No one will ever know about this."

Her words echoed what Dennis had said earlier -a coincidence that seemed frighteningly significant to me. John, Gretchen, Reyes and I lifted Dennis' body and dropped it off the side while Jessie watched. It was gone instantly. We went over to the other side and lifted Mario, who was lighter. Jessie got the excess chain and dumped that in first, and then we pushed Mario over. I immediately felt a little better.

John looked in a compartment under the deck, near the engine. "Plenty of gas." He said, pulling out a large orange container, and then another.

"We gonna torch it?" I asked. "Can't we just sink it?"

"Scuttling a boat isn't as easy as you think." Reyes said. "This thing's got a metal hull. We're better off making sure all the evidence gets burned up and then when the coast guard finds it they'll probably figure on some kind of accident. When a boat fire gets out of hand, people will usually jump overboard to avoid getting burned and then they drown. It happens all the time. Even if they think it might be arson, they won't have much to go on. Where did you launch?"

"The Marina on 57th."

"Good, they don't have security cameras. Did you sign in?"

"No." I said.

"Then we're fine."

"Okay." I said. "But shouldn't we move the boat so it's not directly over the bodies?"

"A little paranoid, but probably a good idea." Reyes said. "We'll torch it and set it running. It could make it a few miles before the fire melts the engine housing."

We stood on deck and watched Reyes and John douse the cabin with gasoline, spreading it liberally around on any surface that had blood. There was a lot of gas left over so they put a bunch in the bedroom, and then did some of the deck area, being careful not to go too close to the engines, so the boat would run for a while. Reyes went upstairs to the steering column and called down to us to get in the other boat and follow. John went down first and helped Gretchen and Jessie climb down. As I climbed onto The Cavalier, the engines of the bigger boat coughed to life. I unhooked the rope and John started our motor. I waved up to Reyes, who jammed up the accelerator and spun The Menace around heading north, away from land while we followed along side. The wind was whipping through my hair, and my teeth were chattering again. I watched Reyes leave the helm and go down onto the main deck with the boat still speeding along and increasing its separation from us. I saw her throw something down into the cabin. She waited for a moment, watching intently. Finally she turned and ran for the back of the fast moving boat. She dove off the railing as the flames became visible through the windows of the cabin.

By the time John brought our boat to where she was treading water, The Menace was far off and smoke was pluming into the sky in a shocking black arc. We helped her in and John turned our boat in the opposite direction. It really was a beautiful day.

We docked at the Lakeview Pier and I asked John whose boat it was. I had to laugh when he told me they had commandeered Junior Pierson's Boat from the docks at Lakeview. "I like the name." I told him.

He smiled, knowing what I meant. "Cavalier Security? That might work."

# THIRTY-THREE

There was a story on the news about a boat fire on the lake, but it was described as a tragic accident. The newswoman said that as many as three people might've died, but that no bodies had yet been found. The coast guard let the boat sink, and the news had some good helicopter shots of it going down. The whole thing left me pretty shook up, which I guess was obvious, because John told me to take two weeks off before I came back to work. He told me that when I came back I would no longer be working for the Guardian Security Agency, but would be a full partner in the newly formed Cavalier Security Incorporated. Jessie had already started calling us CSI Ohio.

David Telano pled guilty to breaking and entering and statutory rape for fucking Melissa Finer. He got sixteen months, but Thomas Delaney the Third said he would probably do nine. The newspapers did a couple of stories about how the murder charges had been dropped, but left it at that. America's Most Wanted offered no apologies, in fact they didn't mention it at all. As far as the media was concerned none of it had happened.

A day after the boat ride, Jessie got a call from her friend Jack, who'd just gotten in from Canada with a large supply of a particularly potent strain of marijuana called White Widow. We bought a half-ounce for three hundred dollars, taking a Payday loan from one of those check-cashing places to cover it. It was worth it.

Jessie kept in touch with Gretchen and over the next couple of months they became good friends. She learned that Gretchen had placed the kids she'd taken with adoptive parents all over the Midwest, mostly wholesome lesbian and gay couples, and supplied them with fake backgrounds and identities. Gretchen and Amanda had belonged to an LGBT bowling league, their team was called the Lady Pirates, and that's where Gretchen got her crew for the airfield invasion.

Gretchen had kept one child, Nadia, and Jessie started going over to baby-sit one night a week –bowling night. I didn't go, because the thought of seeing Gretchen made me sick. I kept thinking about the fact that I would've killed her to save myself. The opportunity to kill Mario presented itself first and I took it, but if it hadn't, I would've shot her to save myself. She had thanked me for saving her life, but I felt like a fraud for not setting her straight. I tried to explain all this to Jessie but she told me I wound up doing the right thing and that was what counted.

As far as I knew the Afghan Air-Bridge continued to operate. None of us were naive enough to think that we had brought it down. I had failed to get any evidence that could be used to prove human trafficking. Junior Pierson retreated to his place in Everett. Paranoia sometimes overwhelmed me in the days after the incident, and it was centered around fears of Junior Pierson coming after Jessie and me. When I actually thought about it, it seemed unlikely that he knew the full extent of our involvement, but rational thought couldn't overcome the fear.

It was about two months later when Jessie woke me up at three forty five in the morning, and told me to get dressed. I asked her why, and she said it was a surprise, and that I had to get dressed and take her to the PFPFP. She'd rolled two joints and packed sandwiches and water bottles in a bag. I kept asking what was going on, but she told me it was a surprise and that I would like it.

"Because I love surprises so much?"

"Just get your ass out of bed and come on." She said. It was about a quarter after four when we arrived at the PFPFP. The roadside dinosaurs looked creepy all lit up from underneath in the dark. I parked by the triceratops and we went into the shop, with Jessie locking the door behind us. The chimps were all asleep when we went through their enclosure -I followed her up the hill.

"Please tell me there's a blowjob at the top of this hill."

"Come on. Just trust me." She said. We got to the last dinosaur exhibit on the tour, the one with the T-rexes fighting, and walked around the small building to the back. There was an old wooden ladder leaning against the back wall. "Go on." She said.

I sighed and climbed the ladder. There were two folding chairs on the roof. Jessie came up after me. "Okay." I said. "Here I am on the roof. What now? What's the big deal?"

"It's a nice view up here." She said.

"Yeah, I'm sure it is, _in the daytime_ , when you can see something."

"Just sit okay? Here." She got one of the chairs and turned it so it was facing off to the left of the building. "Sit right here and smoke a joint with me." She pulled the other chair over and sat.

I sighed and sat down. She lit one of the joints and handed it to me. I took a couple of hits and passed it back. She asked me what time it was and I got out my phone and looked. "Twenty after." I said. We passed the joint back and forth a couple of times. "Are you pregnant?" I asked.

"What? No... Why'd you ask that?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe we were up here to watch the sunrise, and that during that perfect, magical moment, you were going to tell me that we're having a kid."

"Would I be smoking if I were pregnant?"

"Yeah, probably." I said. She punched me in the arm and took the joint from me.

"No, I'm not pregnant." She inhaled.

"Because if we're here to see the sunrise, I was gonna point out that we're facing west." I took it back from her and took another hit. I was starting to feel loose in my elbows and thick in my tongue. "That's it for me." I said passing it back to her. "That shit is strong."

"You're a lightweight." She said, taking it from me. "What time is it?"

"Again? What the fuck?" I got out my phone and looked. "Four twenty seven." I took a water bottle out of the bag and sipped it. Jessie put out the joint and leaned forward in her chair as if she were waiting for something. "You're making me nervous." I said. "What's going on?"

"Just sit there for a few minutes okay?" She said. "Trust me. Let's just sit here for like five minutes more." I grunted. The sun was starting to come up and the landscape was slowly becoming visible around us. There was fog rising from the trees, and I could see Lakeview off to the right, a lush patch of green in an otherwise mostly brown scene. Beyond it was a big empty space on the horizon, which was the lake. I could only see a sliver of water from where I was. On the other side of the PFPFP's T-rex I could see Route 163 stretching out past Megapark! and all the way to the highway. I took a deep breath. There was a bird nearby that was chirping repeatedly in a strange way. I was slightly creeped out by it.

A light popped in the distance and I turned and tried to focus on where it came from. There was another, and another before I heard the sound. A low frequency thump came to my ears, followed closely by two more thumps. It was coming from Megapark! and I saw the tall roller coaster crashing down in a cloud of dust and smoke. There were more flashes, followed by a massive crashing sound and the tall water slides started falling too. I saw smoke coming off of the main gatehouse, and from the food court. There was a really big flash, and the whole arcade was suddenly on fire. The sound and smell of the fire came to us on the roof of the dinosaur exhibit. A huge plume of gray and black smoke was going into the air and it reminded me of videos I had seen of atomic bombs. "Oh fuck." I said.

Jessie was on her feet. " _Yeah! Fuck you Pierson asshole!_ "

"Jess, what the fuck? Is that Gretchen? Is she doing that?"

"That's the Lady Pirates." She said. She turned back to the fire. " _Burn that shit down!_ " She screamed.

I wasn't sure whether to celebrate or run. The fire was so big that it seemed like we could be in danger. It also occurred to me that if anyone saw us there, they would realize that we'd known this was coming. We'd even brought sandwiches. My car was sitting in the lot for anyone to see. I watched sparks fly and flames going higher. It was an epic bonfire by the lake. I was smiling and shaking uncontrollably at the same time. Jessie was laughing, which made me laugh too. I was gripping the arms of my chair tightly. There was nothing to say, it was too outrageous. I could hear sirens in the distance.

# About the Author

Benjamin Broke is the pseudonym of an author who wishes to remain anonymous. He currently lives in Pittsburgh and works a regular job. Please download and read more of his books, it would make him happy. He can be reached by email at:

bennybroke@gmail.com

Twitter: @Benny_Broke

You can call or text Benny at: (412) 512-7732

-back to table of contents-

# Also by Benjamin Broke

Please go to Benjamin Broke's author page at your preferred ebook retailer and check out some of his other work.

-Short stories in the Second Civil War series

FULL EMPLOYMENT IN AMERICA

A radical proposal to end unemployment and repair our economy.

FREE SOUP

When a homeless man and a young girl go to a soup kitchen run by a UFO cult, they find out that there's really no such thing as free soup.

THE MANY ITERATIONS OF KENDRA DIXON

A brain surgery reveals the true nature of time to Kendra Dixon and allows her to freely roam all possible versions of her life.

ANNIHILATING THE PAST

An interview with the man who permanently erased the line between entertainment and brainwashing.

ANIMAL THEATER

UFO cults, mass suicides, clones, designer drugs, brain-implants, propaganda, mind control, war, politics and conspiracies big and small -this collection contains all 20 previously published Second Civil War stories.

In the chaotic aftermath of a complete economic collapse, the American people turn to a right-wing political movement, the Christian Nationalist Party, to restore order. When the western states refuse to enact some of the party's harsh new anti-terror measures, the military moves in, setting off a long and bloody civil war. This series of short stories explores the impact of the war on the lives of people from every level of society.

-Other ebooks by Benjamin Broke

SPACECRAFT

This is not a book -it's a scam.

It's the story of Nick, a seventeen year old weed-smoking, acid-eating, suburban nihilist dropout who accidentally stumbles across an idea that is truly revolutionary. In this text you will find arguments against art, money, sobriety, religion, education, and the rule of law.

This is Benjamin Broke's first novel and it is deeply flawed and wrong on many levels. You should begin downloading it immediately.

# White Phosphorus Chapter 1

Friday March 7, 2008

The fire was arson. No doubt about it. There was still smoke rising from the burned half of the house when the fire inspector told us. John took the news with his usual calm, just nodding as the guy told us what he'd figured out. "A propellant, most likely gasoline, was splashed onto the back wall here and all the way around to the porch. There was no attempt to make it look like something else. It's arson." He shook his head in disgust. "I'd say it was an amateur job."

"Are there professional arsonists?" I asked.

"Lots do it for money." The guy said. "Mostly insurance fraud. You could never get a payout with hackwork like this though. I suppose your homeowner is out of town?"

"That's right." John said.

"I have to contact the insurance company, but I doubt that's what's going on here. This looks like it might be some kind of vandalism. Maybe somebody has something against the owner personally?"

"Mrs. Patrice? I doubt it, she's in her late seventies." John shook his head. "She comes out here during the summer and has her kids and their families stay with her. It's a vacation home basically."

"Probably a random thing then." The guy said pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. He turned away from us and took an incoming call. The sky had been gray for awhile and was slowly turning blue as the sun came up.

"It's not even spring yet and it's starting again." John said to me.

"You think this is part of the crime spree?" I asked.

"Yup."

That's what we called the sudden rash of thefts and obscene graffiti that had turned up in Lakeview in the last months before winter. The crime spree. There had even been an article in the Cleveland Plain Dealer: _More crime comes to a gated Methodist community_ the headline read. It had caused so much concern inside Lakeview that two families had put their houses up for sale and more than a few renters had decided not to renew their leases another year.

"I guess in a way it's good that it happened this early in the season." I said. "Since there's so few people in town now, it limits the suspects."

"True." John said. "I guess we can rule out Jordin Dinns and the local juvenile delinquents we were looking at last year." He began to walk and I followed.

"Where we going?"

"I just wanted to check something out." John said. We walked away from the scene, with the fire truck and cops and the few residents who were in Lakeview milling around trying to find out anything they could about this latest drama. John and I crossed the street to the lake front strip-park and went down a side path to the shed where the lawnmowers and gardening supplies where stored. The padlock from the door was on the ground, broken. John picked it up and looked at it. "Cheap lock, probably from Rite Aid or somewhere. Looks like they busted it with a crowbar or maybe a hammer. The yard guys keep a couple of cans of gasoline in here."

"Should I go tell the cops?" I asked. "You think they'll want to dust for fingerprints?"

"They wont bother." John said. "But yeah, go tell them."

On my way back to the charred house Ray Manesek intercepted me. He looked up at me from beneath his bushy eyebrows and large forehead. He had a coat on over his pajamas. "Hold up a minute, Ben. What did the man from the fire department say? Did he tell you what caused this?" He asked the question with the authority that his new position as head of the Resident's Council gave him.

"Yeah, it's arson. Looks like someone smashed the lock on the gardener's shed and used the gas in there to start the fire."

"Why in the world would somebody do that?" He asked

"I don't know." I said. The cops who had shown up after the fire truck were standing down on the sidewalk across the street from the park, looking out at the lake through a pair of binoculars. Ray and I noticed them at the same time and we walked down to see what they were looking at.

"...couple of drowned rats." One of the cops was saying.

"What's up?" I asked.

"See for yourself." The one who seemed to be in charge said, handing me the binoculars. "Look at the buoy."

About a mile and a half out was a small buoy with a bell, and on it were two wet men, huddled together. One of them was very fat. "What the hell?" I looked at the cops who seemed amused. I looked again and saw that there was no boat anywhere around them.

"I'm guessing we found your arsonists." The cop in charge said. "We called the coast guard."

"Probably take 'em a half hour to get here." I said.

"Those guys will have hypothermia by then." Ray Said. "My boat would get us there in a minute." The cop said it was a good idea and went with Ray. As they left John came down to where we were and took a look at the guys. _Thank god for stupid criminals_ was his only comment. Soon Ray and the cop were speeding out to the Buoy in Rays little motorboat. The other cop watched through the Binoculars as the two wet men climbed in.

The two guys sat in the front of the boat handcuffed together with their arms crossed. The fat one looked Hispanic and the other one was a white guy who was tall and skinny. Sitting next to each other they looked like a pissed off Laurel and Hardy. Everyone standing on the dock had to laugh as they came into view. The other cop helped them get off the boat and then led them up the dock. He sat them down on a park bench and the cop in charge, the one who'd been on the boat asked for their names.

"Steven Habala." The skinny one said.

"Ricardo Telano." The fat one said. The last name rang all kinds of bells in my head.

"Okay so, what the fuck happened?" The cop asked. "Steven?"

"Sir, our skiff sank." He said. "We swam to the buoy sir. That's it."

"We were going to swim to shore but we wanted to wait till it got light out." Ricardo added.

"You didn't notice a fire?" The cop asked.

"Yeah we saw all the smoke and the fire truck and everything. I guess we got lucky, 'cause otherwise you guys wouldn't have been there to see us." Ricardo said.

"Pal, you're a lot of things but lucky isn't one of them." The cop said. "When did your boat go down?"

"Last night." Ricardo said, sullen now.

"What time? How long would you say you were on the buoy? You were still wet when we got there. Steven? How long?"

"Sir, I don't know... Three hours I guess." He said.

"Okay it's six thirty now, so I guess the obvious question is what are a couple of cool guys like yourselves doing rowing around in a leaky skiff at three thirty in the morning?"

"Sir? Sir? We always go fishing at three in the morning. You catch the best fish right before dawn sir." Steven said. "That's the truth."

"I fish," the cop said, "and I never heard that."

"Sir? It's freezing out here, and we're sitting here wet and handcuffed and we haven't broken any laws sir. What are you doing to us? You trying to put something on us? We almost drowned tonight sir, and now you're trying to put something on us. It's not right." Steven said all this without making eye contact with any of the officers around him. He had his head hanging down and he occasionally looked out to the lake, maybe at the buoy.

"You're right Steven." The cop said after a moment. "I _am_ trying to put something on you. Arson. You came here in the middle of the night, you and your friend, and you set fire to a nice old lady's house. You probably would've gotten away with it but your stupid little skiff was taking on water, and you wound up on that buoy. We all know that's what happened..."

"Sir?"

"We all know that's what happened. The only remaining question is -why?"

"We're not saying nothing else." Ricardo said. "You already made up your mind that we done some bullshit, so there's no point talking to you. We'll just talk to a lawyer. I think I know one who'll help us out." He looked at Steven who smiled and finally looked up at the cop.

The Coast Guard hauled their old skiff out of the shallow water. It had a large crack between two of the floorboards and there was a coffee can that finally couldn't bail the water out fast enough. They also pulled up a Dora the Explorer backpack that had a mini crowbar and two pair of black gloves in it. In the front pouch there was a small notebook with the name Madison Habala written in pink on the back cover. The two men were charged with trespassing, vandalism, destruction of private property, theft (the gasoline), and arson.
