Piggyback (11 page)

“
Mom, I don
’
t know this creep
…”

Linda Lafleur never heard her daughter; she was in full flirtation mode.

The passenger door popped open. All that emerged was Paul
’
s ass. He was leaned over into the backseat, desperately trying to cut the zip-tie from behind Tristan
’
s back. When he was done, he almost fell out of the car. He steadied himself, turned and saw Mrs. Lafleur and forgot about everything else.

To Paul, she was statuesque, standing three stairs higher than him with her long leather draped around her shoulders and the top two buttons of her blouse popped open. Her mascara was smudged from when she
’
d rubbed her eyes awake. She was bleached, tanned, and tired-looking; Paul
’
s dream girl.

Jimmy could see Paul was smitten. Drunk and stupid as he
’
d been all night, he stared at her like a lovesick teenager. Paul ignored the two younger girls. Shelly and Becky barely had time to react to the intrusion before the rear door of the Camry opened.

Tristan climbed out slowly, his face was white with fright. He mouth looked small because he kept it clamped so tight, but his eyes, his eyes were looking wildly around the room as if to send signals to the girls. He wiggled his eyebrows and pointed with his eyeballs, and pushed his pursed lips from side to side. Signals they didn
’
t understand.

“
Tristan,
”
said Linda acting both excited and surprised.
“
So these are your friends. I didn
’
t see you back there. Well, come on in, all of you. We
’
ll have a night cap. You
’
re amongst friends here.
”
She spun toward the house, trying to look glamorous, expecting them all to follow her in.

“
Paul, you
’
ve been wanting a drink, why don
’
t you go introduce yourself to our hostess and I
’
ll hang back a minute to have a word with the kids.
”

Paul looked relieved. He almost forgot what they
’
d come here to get. He almost forgot about the dead body in the trunk of his friend
’
s car. He stepped up the stairs quickly and followed the woman into her kitchen.

Inside the kitchen, Linda threw her heavy leather toward the back of one of the chairs and missed, letting the expensive jacket hit the floor.

“
So
…”
She hadn
’
t asked either of their names before inviting them in.

“
Paul,
”
he said grinning, trying not to sound excited.

“
Paul. What
’
s your pleasure?
”

“
What are you having?
”

“
Vodka tonic.
”

“
That sounds perfect.
”
It was, too.  He was already wondering if this woman would be into a few lines of blow. If she was, he was home-free.

Linda pulled two tall glasses from the cabinet and, from the tray she
’
d left on the counter before, dropped a couple of melting ice cubes in each. She took the vodka and filled each glass three-quarters full.

“
I don
’
t know about you, Paul, but I like
‘
em stiff.
”

Paul grinned, but couldn
’
t come back with a witty reply. He felt his face flush red. Linda saw he was tongue-tied and winked, stretching Paul
’
s grin even further.

Linda topped off the glasses with tonic and sat down on one of the tall chairs near the kitchen counter. The chairs were the height of barstools and they both felt comfortable there.

“
So, what brings you boys by here so late in the evening?
”

Paul wasn
’
t sure what to say. He and Jimmy hadn
’
t rehearsed any story, so he just shrugged.

“
Really?
”
she said, sounding more sexy than suspicious.
“
How do you two know the girls?
”

Paul hooked a thumb toward the garage.

“
Oh, Tristan, that
’
s right,
”
she said, remembering that Shelly
’
s boyfriend climbed out of the backseat. It seemed that was explanation enough. The girls were adults now, she didn
’
t need to pry into every little thing they did. She smelled enough marijuana in the house; she figured maybe these two strangers were the girls
’
connection. Who was she to judge and play hard-ass? She lifted her glass and said,
“
Cheers.
”

Finally Paul knew what to say. He said,
“
Cheers.
”

In the garage, Jimmy came out and said it.
“
I
’
m here to pick up my stuff.
”

The girls seemed deeply offended. They looked at each other and decided to ignore Jimmy.

“
Tristan, where the hell is Jerrod?
”
asked Shelly. Tristan made quick jerks with his head toward the car. The girls both looked over at the Camry. It looked empty.
“
No, Tristan, where did you leave Jerrod?
”
Becky spoke to Tristan as though he were a child. Tristan made the same jerking motion with his head.

Jimmy interrupted,
“
You can talk, you know. Go ahead, you can tell
‘
em.
”

Tristan began to speak and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried it again.
“
He
’
s in the trunk.
”

“
The trunk? What the hell are you talking about?
”
Shelly sounded as patronizing at Becky.
“
And who the hell are these guys you brought over to my house?
”

Jimmy interrupted again,
“
I told you—
Shelly
, I
’
m just here to get my stuff.
”
Jimmy put his hands on his hips and, by doing so, pulled back his jacket exposing the pistol in its holster under his arm. The mood in the garage suddenly changed. Jimmy smiled. It was a thin, fake smile, but Jimmy thought it sent goodwill.

Jimmy looked down at the suitcases on the cement floor and said,
“
So, what
’
s going on? You girls having a fight?
”

Nobody spoke. The three young people caught in a game of freeze-tag. Nobody knew what to say. Jimmy knew that meant all they were doing was trying to come up with a lie.

“
I
’
m not one for kidding around, Tristan here
’
ll tell ya. Now, where is that stuff of mine? I know you girls have it, and we don
’
t need to waste anymore of my time, do we?
”

It took a few more uncomfortable moments of silence before Shelly said,
“
We can
’
t find it.
”

She said it so plainly, so quickly, that it sounded like the truth. Jimmy knew it, the girls knew it, and now Tristan knew it. It was what Jimmy was afraid of the moment he saw those suitcases littering the floor. A frightened breath escaped Tristan
’
s lungs.

Jimmy stood there for a moment trying to decide what to do. His first impulse was to shoot one of them, one of the girls, but that was just anger. He didn
’
t know who knew what. There was still the mother inside the house. Now he had four people he had to worry about. Five including Paul. Six, if you count the dead body.

Damon Lafleur had pulled off the freeway into a Denny
’
s parking lot. He walked in and was seated, ordering a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie before the hostess had a chance to leave the table.

“
You know what? Forget the coffee, make it a coke. With a straw, please.
”

When his order arrived he grabbed the straw and left the rest to sit and went straight into the bathroom. There he stood in a stall and carefully poured out a small pile of coke on the toilet paper dispenser. Taking a credit card from his wallet, he chopped out two fat lines. He unwrapped the straw and sucked each line deep into each nostril. He put the straw back into his pocket and flushed the toilet and left the stall. He washed his hands in the basin with the abrasive powdered soap and dried them by running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As he was standing in front of the mirror admiring himself, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He looked at the number. San Francisco—caller unknown. He hit the green answer button and held the phone to his ear.

The voice on the other end had a thick accent.

“
You never called me back.
”

“
I
’
m still on the road. Things are under control,
”
said Damon. He was sucking in his cheeks and turning his head ever so slightly, seducing himself in the mirror.

“
Things are not under control, my friend. You should have called us.
”

“
I
’
ll be back home in about an hour. I
’
ll call you from a safe line and we
’
ll see what
’
s what.
”

“
What
’
s what? I don
’
t know what that means. I hope you will have good news for me, my friend.
”

“
You know I will,
”
said Damon, but the voice was gone. The call was over before he finished his sentence. He looked at his phone and saw the word
disconnected
. Damon shrugged, lifted his head up just enough to examine his nostrils for any traces of white powder, and then exited the bathroom.

He sat in his booth near the window with the pie untouched in front of him. He sipped at his cola without the use of the straw. He was looking out the window at the lights of the interstate, but couldn
’
t help being distracted by his own reflection.

“
Oh sure, I was born and raised in Southern California. I didn
’
t come up north till my twenties. You mind if I smoke?
”

Jimmy listened to Paul giving the mother his life story as he tailed Tristan and the two girls up the stairs toward Shelly
’
s bedroom. When they got there, he said,
“
All three of you, on the bed. Shut up and sit still.
”

He pulled out Tristan
’
s cell phone and went directly to recent calls and dialed Shelly
’
s number. The phone rang in Shelly
’
s pocket.

“
I
’
ll take that, please.
”

He repeated the process with Jerrod
’
s phone. There was a vibration in Becky
’
s pocket.

“
You, too,
”
he said.

Jimmy looked out the open window, then shut it and the curtain. He noticed a land-line on the nightstand and unplugged it. He surveyed the rest of the bedroom.

“
Bathroom attached to your room? Must be nice.
”
He walked over and flipped on the bathroom light, flipped it off, and shut the door. Jimmy turned to the three on the bed and said,
“
Okay then, this is where I tell you that we can do this the hard way, or we can do this the easy way.
”

“
Who the fuck are you, pal? And why should we even be listening to you?
”
Becky
’
s burst of bravado caused Tristan to wince. He knew what was coming.