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Authors: Rob Kitchin

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BOOK: Stiffed
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I’m not sure what to hold, my head or my coccyx.  I know exactly where to keep my eyes, however – on the gun, which
Kate is now pointing at me, gripping it with two hands.  Even if she’s not a crack shot, she can’t miss from there.  And I’ve no doubt it’ll make a bloody mess wherever the bullet hits.

‘Have you any idea how much grief you’ve ca
used me?’ Kate snaps.

I’m not sure how to answer that, so I keep my mouth
shut.  Whatever grief I’ve caused her, it’s been reciprocated multiple times over.  She’s the one responsible for stealing a million dollars, for pissing off Redneck, Barry White and Pirelli, and for getting five people kidnapped! 

‘A million dollars, Tadhg.
  A million fucking dollars.  Have you any idea how much effort I put into that?’

‘You stole it from
Earl Jenkins,’ I can’t help saying.  I touch the side of my face and glance at my hand.  It’s damp with blood.  That’s twice today she’s whacked me on the head, opening a wound.  I hope to heck that this isn’t one of those things that come in threes.

‘And where the fuck do you think he got it?  You think that’s legitimately earned money?  It’s
Mob money.  Dirty money.  My fucking money!’

Juan coughs on the other side of the car.

Kate glances over at him.  ‘You know what I mean, Juan.  Our money,’ she says sweetly.  ‘I mean our money.’  She turns her attention back to me.  ‘I’ve worked damn hard to get that money.  I’ve done things you don’t even want to think about.  And then you stick your nose in and fuck it all up.’

‘I didn’t ca
ll Earl Jenkins or Leroy Taylor,’ I reply.  ‘I didn’t start a gun fight at the truck stop.  I didn’t kill Tony Marino.’

She pulls a wry smile.  ‘
Well, it certainly looked like you killed Tony.  Then decided to … I don’t know, sleep with him.’

‘It wasn’t what it looked like.’  I climb gingerly to my feet.

‘And what was it?’

‘A mistake.
  I was drunk.  I thought it was you.’  I start to dust myself off.

‘Me!
  You thought it was
me
?’ She laughs.  ‘He’s hairier than a grizzly bear.  Temper like one as well.  Jesus, Tadhg.’

‘So you’ve no idea why Tony Marino was left in our – my – bed?
  Stabbed four times, his clothes left in the garbage.’

‘I hoped you were going to tell me.’

‘What happened at the truck stop?’ I ask, changing tack, aware that a trickle of blood is creeping down my chest.  I mop the side of my head with the end of the yellow tie.  There’s little sign of the gash clotting any time soon.

‘A fuck-up.
  Look, Tadhg, I’d really like to stand here and chat all day, but I’ve things to be getting on with.’


Like finding your million dollars.’

‘And my favorite cap.’

‘Your favorite cap?’

‘My Crusader
s cap.’

‘Your Crusader
s cap?’ I repeat.  What the hell is she going on about?  Who cares about a Goddamn cap? 

‘Yes, my fucking lucky C
rusaders cap!  Where the fuck is it, Tadhg?’

‘What the fuck’s your cap got to do with anything?’
I ask, genuinely perplexed.

‘It’s got everything
, you moron.  Use your head!’

‘Use my head?’  Understanding slowly dawns
.  ‘The million dollars is in the cap?’

‘For fuck’s sake, Tadhg, how the fuck would you get
a million dollars in a cap?’

Or maybe it
isn’t.  She’s completely lost me.  I just stare at her bewildered.

‘Just tell me where my fucking
Crusaders cap is, Tadhg!’

She’s the kind of w
acko that would risk everything for their favorite piece of clothing.  The kind that arranges shootouts at truck stops.  For people to get killed in her boyfriend’s bed.

At least t
here’s an opportunity here to play her at her own game.  Well, to at least try.

‘Sally has it,’ I say.
  It’s only a small white lie.  Technically it’s true.  It’s in the hall of her house, rather than with her.  Maybe there is a way to try and rescue her after all.  A long shot, but then that’s all I’m playing these days.

‘Sober
Sally?’ Kate asks.  ‘The one with fat ankles and kids with stupid names?’

‘Yes.’

‘You gave my favorite cap to that sour-faced bitch!’

‘She was having a bad hair day.’

‘Bad hair day!  Are you fucking crazy!  That was my favorite cap!’

So this is all about the cap.  Somehow the damn cap is the key to the million dollars.  Of course it is. 
Isn’t it?  Even Kate isn’t kooky enough to be obsessed with a cap purely for sentimental reasons.  She’s told me as much herself after knocking me to the ground. 

‘Hey, Kathy,’ Juan says
over the roof of the car.  ‘It’s not a problem, okay.  We’ll find this Sally and get your cap back after we get the million dollars.’

She seems to calm a little. 
‘You’re right.  You’re right. Let’s go and get her.’  She motions me towards the car with the gun.  ‘Get in the front seat.’

Juan has a confused look on his face; it’s clear he’s only interested in the million dollars not Sally and the cap.

‘That’s not going to be so easy,’ I say, without moving.  ‘Redneck and Cowboy have her.’

‘Who the
fuck
are Redneck and Cowboy?’

‘Earl Jenkins and his sidekick.
  I don’t know his name.’

‘Brett,’ Juan says calmly
, eyeing me like a snake does its prey.  I’m clearly messing up his plans.

‘FUCK! 
For fuck’s sake!’ Kate explodes.  ‘Are you
trying
to ruin my life?’

The gun makes a hell of a bang, the bullet ricocheting off a bridge strut.

Instinctively I duck.  Jesus.  It’s official.  She’s now totally flipped.  And if anyone’s ruined her life it’s herself.  She specializes in ruining lives.  Five people are being held captive because of her.  It’s possible that we might not have any lives once this is all over, and if we do, they’ll be spent in prison. 

‘They want their million d
ollars back in exchange for her,’ I say, straightening back up again.

Kate
laughs.  ‘Priceless,’ she mutters.  Her anger seems to have deflated.  ‘I wouldn’t give them the time of day for her.  Get in.’ She motions at the car again.

Shit.  I guess it was too much to expect Kate to want to get her damn cap back when Redneck and Cowboy are involved.  I open the passenger door and slide in.

Kate slips into the seat behind me, the warm barrel of the gun pressed to my nape.

‘Where the hell are they?’ she asks.

Maybe it’s not. 

‘I’ve no idea.  I just know that they’re holding Sally.  And she has your cap.’

Juan climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the ignition key.  The car sparks into life, the air conditioning immediately starting to blast out cool air.  He puts his foot down and
we set off down the deserted road.

‘Juan?

‘Yeah
, baby?’

‘Do you have Earl’s
cell number?’

‘Uh-huh.’
  He nods his head slowly.

‘We need to give him a ring and arrange a little
get-together.  He has a hostage who’s got my favorite cap.’

I really wish that Kate would remove the gun from my neck.  The road is uneven and
God knows what a sudden jolt will do to her index finger.

‘Your favorite cap?’
Juan says, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Juan thinks she
’s as cuckoo as I do.  It wouldn’t surprise me if he throttled her and left her for dead two minutes after they’d got their hands on the million dollars.  He’s got that dead pool, killer look in his eyes, like he’s gazing right through you.  If he doesn’t act first, I wouldn’t fancy his chances of lasting much beyond three minutes.  She’s a few quarters short of a ten dollar roll and a certified lying, cheating, double-crossing bitch.

‘Yeah, my Crusader
s cap,’ she says using a fake, kooky Marilyn Monroe accent. ‘My lucky cap.  I gotta get my lucky cap back.’

* * *

The drive back to Carrick Springs was uneventful.  After a while Kate lowered the gun from my neck, which dropped me several points down the sphincter scale.  The wound on the side of my head finally clotted, but there’s not much yellow left on the tie. 

As we reach the
town limits, Kate jabs the gun into the back of the seat.

‘One wrong move and I’ll shoot first and ask questions later,’ she says.

‘Don’t you need me to get the million dollars?’ I ask.

She laughs.  ‘Not anymore.
  It turns out that was something of a wasted trade.’

Juan’s eyes flick up to the mirror, staring back at Kate.

‘Except you now know where your cap is,’ I point out.

‘True, but it makes you surplus to requirements.’

So I was right.  This is all about the cap.

I glance over at Juan.  He’s lowered his gaze back to the road, his forehead creased in a frown, his lips pursed.  I suspect he’s come to the same conclusion as I have and he doesn’t like it
one bit.  It means having to confront Redneck and Cowboy.

‘So what are you going to do with me?’

I could tell her that Sally doesn’t have the cap, that in fact I’m the only one who knows where it is, but I think I’m going to save that as a last resort if it looks like I’m going to meet my maker.

‘Who knows?  I haven’t decided yet.’

Juan clears his throat and glances up into the mirror.

‘We … I mean
we
haven’t decided yet,’ she corrects.

If she didn’t get herself into
a collective frame of reference soon then she could well be looking for a new partner.

‘The last seven months meant nothing to you?’
I ask.

‘I showed you a good time, didn’t I?’

‘You used me.’

‘Everybody uses each other.  That’s what people do.’

I hope Juan is listening to this, but I suspect he thinks he’s using her as much as she’s using him.  The million dollars was just too much of a temptation to stay loyal to Redneck.

‘It’s meant to be well meaning and reciproc
al,’ I say. ‘You were just using me to hide.’

‘Don’t be such a … a cry baby.  It’s not like you had a life anyway.’

‘What are you on about?  I had a life.  I mean have a life.  I …’

‘You won’t have a life if you don’t shut the fuck up
,’ Juan interrupts, his voice full of menace.  ‘It’s like listening to an old married couple.  You used me.  You’re a cry baby.  Blah, blah, blah.  Who gives a fuck?’

Well, I guess Juan doesn’t give a fuck
and he’s seriously pissed off.  He probably thought he’d be well on the way to the Canadian border at this stage. 

We drive in silence for a w
hile through low density houses on large plots.

‘How did Redneck
, I mean Earl Jenkins, get away?’ I ask, unnerved by the quiet.  Kate, I sense, might let me go – tie me up and leave me for someone to hopefully find.  Juan is a whole different ball game.  I reckon he might be happier to put a bullet in my head.  He seems the type that doesn’t like loose ends, especially those with a tongue in their head who could appear on a witness stand.  He’s radiating negative energy.

‘What do you mean, get away?’

‘When you kidnapped Annabelle, she was guarding him.’

‘We left him in the house.  He was unconscious and tied up.  No point trying to move a dead weight.’

I nod my head.  At least they didn’t kill him, otherwise we’d have had a third body on our hands.

So how the hell did Redneck get free then?  At some
point between Sally fleeing, Kate snatching Annabelle and searching the house, and Sally returning, Redneck disappeared.  Cowboy was in no fit state to get there before us.  Perhaps Redneck came round and worked his way out of his bonds by himself?  He wasn’t exactly tied up by professionals. 

‘What did you
do with the bed and Tony?’ Kate asks.

‘We burnt the bed and wrapped Marino in a couple of sheets.  He’s with
Junior.’

‘Junior?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘Give me the highlights.’  She puts the gun back against
the base of my neck.

My sphincter tightens quicker than
a flytrap.

‘Ronald Carter Junior.  Barry
Wh … I mean Leroy Taylor shot him in my hallway.’

‘Leroy shot Ronnie?’ Kate says in disbelief.

BOOK: Stiffed
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