Hard Cash (5 page)

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Authors: Mike Dennis

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BOOK: Hard Cash
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"Help you? Extort more money from
Blake?" I couldn't believe the balls on this bitch.

"That way, he'll get his building permits,
and you'll pick up fifteen thousand for your trouble. Come on, Jack. Won't you
help me? Help me get justice for Ricardo?"

And help you get a fast hundred grand while I'm
at it
.
Remind me never to do business
with anyone from that part of the world.

I stood up again, this time successfully.

"I don't do blackmail," I said.

I threw some money down on the table for the meal
and headed for the door. She gestured frantically toward me, beckoning me back.
When she saw I wasn't returning, she called out behind me, "If you change
your mind, I'm staying at the Venetian!"

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

VI

 

I
phoned Madden as soon as I got to my car. He agreed to meet
me at this little out-of-the-way bar I knew off Paradise Road. Fifteen minutes
later, we sat together at a darkened table. I could see only about a half-dozen
customers in the place, all sitting at the bar, buried in video poker. The TVs
played various basketball games.

I went to the bar and got us a couple of beers.
Madden took an enjoyable drink from his bottle. Then he said, "Traffic
called me today. Said they got the guy who ran Lane down. He got pulled over
for DUI about a half an hour afterward. Turns out he worked for a landscaping
company. Had two sixes of beer with him when he was stopped, along with a bunch
of empties on the floorboard, and he was blitzed when he hit Lane. They
eventually matched him up with your description of his van, which had minor
front-end damage consistent with hit-and-run. Traces of blood on the bumper,
too. We're running DNA tests to compare them to Lane's blood, but it won't
really matter. He confessed."

I said I was glad to hear that.

"All right," Madden said after another
sip of beer, "what've you got?"

I repeated Erica's story. He'd heard most of it
from her, of course, but then I told him about the money and the tape
recording.

"Ricardo Lane was the bagman in the deal
between Blake and the officials on South Padre. Erica told Blake the South
Padre guys wanted more, but she most likely saw him as a hungry mark, willing
to stop at nothing to build his hotel. I think she wanted the second hundred
dimes for herself. Blake refused and threatened Lane's family, so Lane came
here right away."

"To get Blake?" Madden asked.

"I doubt it. I think he came to give Blake
back his money."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, for one thing, he had the money with
him. I think he wanted to do the right thing and protect his family. Figured if
he returned the money, Blake wouldn't come after them."

I cleared my throat and drank some more beer.
Then, I reluctantly stated in a flat voice, "Frank, I have the money. Lane
gave it to me right before he died."

"
You
have the money? Lane gave you a
hundred thousand dollars?"

"Only ninety-five, actually. He wanted me to
give it to Blake. Which …" I swallowed hard and said, "which is what
I'm going to do."

 

≈≈≈

 

I arrived home a little
after noon. The money, of course, was right where I left it. I pulled it out
and looked at it, riffling the bills, sniffing it, essentially kissing it
goodbye. Then, I bundled it up in rubber bands, tossed the packets into my
briefcase, and took it out to my car, where I started the long, long trip to
the Bank of America building. I say "long, long" because it was
really only a five- or ten-minute drive, but it seemed like forever.

You know, this really messed me up. Just
yesterday, I told myself Blake would never see this money again. I had big
plans for it, what I was going to do with it and everything, but now, after
learning how Erica Lane was trying to screw him out of it and her sleazy
attempt to derail his hotel project, she shot straight to the top of my shit
list. Not only that, it really pissed me off the way she tried to recruit me to
pry the money loose from him just so she could drop it into her fucking Coco
Chanel purse.

After all that, despite the trimming I suffered at
the hands of Blake and his goons, I knew I couldn't keep it.

And now, here I was, walking right into his
fucking office. In broad daylight. I didn't know whether to be cocky or
nervous. I settled for a little of both.

The receptionist told me he was in. I gave her my
name and said he'd definitely want to see me. After checking with him, she made
me wait a few minutes, then directed me to his office, where his secretary
ushered me in.

The office occupied a big corner of the tenth
floor, with a panoramic view of downtown and beyond. He sat behind an enormous
mahogany desk, with papers neatly arranged on it. His immaculate navy blue suit
looked like it might've cost upwards of three grand. His brown tie looked like
it might've gone two for a dollar. Over in the far corner, No-Sleeve Steve sat
on a high-ticket modern sofa. He didn't look happy, but of course, I guess he never
does. Blake didn't get up from his desk.

"Mr Barnett. What a surprise! May I ask, what
in the
world
are you doing here?"

He eyed me very carefully as I stood about halfway
between the door and his desk. I said, "Before I tell you why I'm here, Mr
Blake, I want you to tell me something. I might add, if you tell me the truth,
it'll make what I have to say a lot more meaningful. Were you supposed to meet
Ricardo Lane at your apartment complex over on Encanto Road the day he was
killed? "

After a slight hesitation, he replied, "I
was."

I remained standing and took a heavy breath.
"In that case, I have something here that belongs to you, as much as I
hate to admit it." I walked over to his desk and set my briefcase on it.
Right away, No-Sleeve Steve leaped up from his sofa and came toward me. But
when I pulled the money out, Blake's eyes nearly popped out of his well-coiffed
head.

I placed the money on his desk and said,
"Ricardo Lane gave me this as he drew his last breath. He died trying to
get it to you, so he could protect his family from you and your goons." I
threw a fast glance at No-Sleeve Steve.

Blake didn't bother counting the money. I saved
him the trouble. "It's not all there," I said. "Lane only gave
me ninety-five thousand. I don't know, maybe he figured he'd skim five dimes
for his trouble and expenses. Maybe he lost it at the Four Queens dice tables.
Who knows? He never had much money he could call his own. But I have to tell
you I took out ninety-five hundred for a ten percent finder's fee, and for the
beating I suffered at your direction. The rest of it's right there. Eighty-five
thousand, five hundred." With all the money on the desk, I snapped the
briefcase shut and stepped back.

Blake slumped into his high-backed leather chair.
He held a handful of bills.

"I swear, Barnett, I thought Erica Lane had
this money. I truly thought I'd never see it again." He swiveled slightly
in his chair and gazed absently out the window at the downtown skyline. His
voice became soft, creamy. "You know, I was late for my appointment with
Lane that day. He said he wanted to talk to me about the South Padre deal. I
took that to mean that maybe he could get those public works yokels to listen
to reason. I didn't want to meet him in my office because, well, I didn't want
there to be any documented connection between me and him. If I'd gotten there
on time, maybe …"

"Yeah, maybe he'd still be alive. Fact is, he
wanted to give you your money."

"And now you're doing it instead."

"It's the least I can do for him."

The faraway look in his eyes disappeared, as he
faced forward and stood up. "Looks like we've got ourselves an honest man
here, Steve. What do you think of that?"

Steve didn't answer. He wasn't supposed to.

Instead, Blake walked around to the front of the
desk and offered me his hand. I thought about it for a moment, then shook it
with little enthusiasm.

He said, "Anytime you want to come to work
for me, Jack, there'll be a job waiting for you."

"No, thanks. Enjoy your money." I turned
and left his office.

As I got on the elevator, I consoled myself with
having made ten percent out of this affair. But at least, the whole bundle was
mine for a while.

Outside, when I got to my car, I could see the
metermaid had left one of her little droppings on my windshield. The ticket was
going to cost me twenty-five bucks.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 
 

After thirty years as a professional
musician (piano), Mike Dennis left Key West  and moved to Las Vegas to
become a professional poker player. He turned to writing when his first novel,
The
Take
, was picked up by a publisher in 2009.

His next book,
Setup On Front Street,
was the first in a series of Key West noir
novels. The series is called
Key West
Nocturnes
, and it will lift the veil on that town, revealing it as a true
noir city, on a par with Los Angeles, New Orleans, or Miami.

The
Ghosts Of Havana
, a tale of old vendettas that will not die,
is the second book in that series. The third,
Man-Slaughter
, is now available, and the fourth in the series,
The Guns Of Miami
, will be coming in 2013.

Temptation
Town
was Mike's first novelette, and the first in the
Jack Barnett / Las Vegas series. Drawn on Mike's years in Las Vegas, the tale
takes the reader to areas of Sin City that never appear in tourist guidebooks.
Hard Cash
is the second installment in
that series.

A full Barnett novel,
The Downtown Deal
, is now available.

Mike also has a collection of short stories,
Bloodstains On The Wall.
 In addition, his stories have been
published in A Twist Of Noir, Mysterical e, Powder Burn Flash, Slow Trains,
The
Wizards Of Words 2009 Anthology
,
and on Amazon Kindle
.

Mike has an experimental rockabilly novel,
Cadillac's Comin'
, a hard tale of the
chaotic early days of rock & roll, which is now available.

In late 2010, Mike moved back to Key West,
where he enjoys year-round island living with his wife Yleana, whom he married
on a warm night in December, 2012, on the rooftop of an apartment building in
Havana, Cuba.

 
 

Contact Mike Dennis
 
[email protected]

Visit Mike's website
 
http://mikedennisnoir.com

 
 

Please
leave a
review on Amazon
.

OTHER BOOKS
BY MIKE DENNIS

 

The Key West Nocturnes Series

SETUP ON FRONT STREET

THE GHOSTS OF HAVANA

MAN-SLAUGHTER

THE GUNS OF
MIAMI
(coming soon)

Available in
digital and paperback

 

The Jack Barnett/Las Vegas Series

TEMPTATION TOWN

HARD CASH

THE DOWNTOWN
DEAL

Available in
digital and paperback

 

BLOODSTAINS ON THE WALL

Three stories from the dark side

Available in
digital and paperback

 

THE TAKE

A novel of human desperation

Available in
digital and paperback

 

CADILLAC'S COMIN'

A rock & roll novel

Available in
digital only

 

BETWEEN THE DEVIL AND

THE
DEEP BLUE EYES

A Las Vegas noir short story

Available in
digital only

 

THE SESSION

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