The Barbed-Wire Kiss (19 page)

“That’s all of it?” he said.

“Everything.”

Ray nodded. “Well, I guess I’ve only got one question for you, then. What the
fuck
were you thinking?”

“What do you mean?”

“Trying to help out your friend I can understand, even if he was dealing. But the rest of it …”

“I don’t know that I was thinking much at all. I was going with what felt right at the time. I guess I was making an effort
not
to think about it too much.”

“‘Think a little less, live a little more’?”

“Something like that.”

“Famous last words. They sound great in a courtroom. ‘Well, Your Honor, the incident in question just happened to coincide with the time that I decided to stop thinking so much.’”

Harry stood, wandered over to the window, watched the traffic crawl by below.

“You’re the one who told me I needed to ‘reengage,’ remember?”

“That’s not quite what I meant.”

“No? It was part of it. And you were right. I felt like my life was slipping away, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. It was a relief to stop thinking about things for a while, to just go with something.”

“Couldn’t you have been shagging some waitress somewhere instead? I mean, considering the risk you’re putting yourself at, is it worth it?”

“I lost her once, Ray. I don’t want to lose her again.”

“Jesus, I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you. Mr. Logic. Mr. Don’t-Do-Anything-Until-You’ve-Figured-out-All-the-Angles. What was this, your fall from grace?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a time to stop being yourself.”

“Did I? Maybe when all this started I was just bored. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help Bobby in the first place. Maybe I was just tired of watching the world go around without me. But I’ll tell you something, Ray. This woman, she is worth it.”

“Worth what? Winding up in Raritan Bay with a couple of twenty-two longs in the back of your head?”

“He’s a scumbag.”

“Since when is that your concern? She stays with him, doesn’t she?”

“She has her reasons.”

“If she didn’t want to be with him, she’d walk.”

“It’s not that easy. He wouldn’t let her.”

“So what makes you think he’s going to let her leave with you?”

“He might not have a choice.”

“You’re gone,” Ray said. “You’re lost. I can see it in your eyes. You can’t even hear what you’re saying. And maybe you weren’t paying attention back there when they popped that trunk, but …”

“I don’t think Fallon had anything to do with that. I think something else was going on.”

“Even so. Even if we forget about Fallon and what he does for a living, and whether or not he was involved in this, the fact remains this woman is still his wife. Not his squeeze, not his mistress, not some go-go dancer he bangs on the side. His
wife
.”

“That’s why I told you all this. As a precaution. I wanted you to know what was going on, in case anything happened.”

“Not much consolation to me, is it? You’re on pretty shaky ground here, partner, and you seem awful calm about it.”

“You’re anticipating the worst.”

“You should be too.”

“It could work out.”

“Yeah, and it could get you killed too. If I had to bet, I’d go with the second scenario. And there’s another complication.”

“What’s that?”

“Wesniak. In case you forgot, he led the drive to get Dunleavy shitcanned. He’s the one who made it happen. He’s gonna love it if he finds out the two of you are mixed up in this thing together.”

“Coincidence.”

“Tell that to him. What are you going to do now?”

“Check on some things. I’ll call Wesniak tomorrow. Anything you can find out from the ME in the meantime would be helpful.”

“Why did I know that was coming? Maybe you can ask Wesniak when you talk to him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to provide you with as much information as he can.”

“I told you I’d fill you in on all of this, Ray. And I have. But I still need your help.”

“What you’re going to end up needing is a lawyer, and maybe a twenty-four-hour bodyguard. Helping a friend out is one thing, Harry. But if you’re in any way involved with the person who whacked those two guys, or even if you know who might have been responsible and aren’t telling, then that’s a different story.”

“I’ve been straight with you, Ray. Right down the line.”

“Then I hope it stays that way, for both our sakes.”

Ray stood up. “Call me tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll see if there’s anything new from the ME. Either way, stay in touch. Let me know that you’re still alive, at least. I don’t like this situation at all.”

Harry put out his hand. They shook.

“I hope to Christ you know what you’re doing,” Ray said.

Harry tried to smile. “So do I.”

•  •  •

Clouds filled the sky and no moon. The bedroom window was open, but no breeze came through. The night air was thick and still, the only sound in the room the fan whispering softly above them.

“I saw two dead men today,” he said. “I saw their bodies.”

She raised her head from his shoulder.

“I can’t get them out of my mind.”

She sat up and moved away from him. The edge of the sheet slid off her breasts. “What are you talking about?”

“I was looking for someone. I had a description of his car. I found it today at the airport. There were two bodies in the trunk.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“Did you call the police? Did anyone else see them?”

“Anyone and everyone. State police, Port Authority cops.”

“Port Authority?”

“They’re the ones responsible for the airports. Case like this, they have to get involved. But the state police are leading the investigation. It’s their show.”

She caught the sheet, pulled it up again, studied him.

“This person you were looking for. Did he have anything to do with your friend Bobby?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And this involves Edward?”

“Maybe not.”

“The one you were looking for …”

“Was he one of the bodies? I don’t know. Probably. They have to do postmortems, get IDs.”

“This happened today?”

“This afternoon, after I left you. I decided to look for the car, figured I’d give the airport a shot first. I guess you could say I got lucky.”

“My God.”

He sat up, propped the pillow behind him. She was watching him.

“You’re not telling me the truth, are you?” she said.

“About what?”

“You say this might not have anything to do with Edward. But you think it does, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You think it does. That’s why you brought it up.”

She shrugged the sheet off, got out of bed. He watched her move naked down the hall to the bathroom. He heard water running. After a few moments, she came back in and began to dress.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“What’s wrong?” She pulled on her jeans. “Why is it that every time we’re together it comes back to this?”

“To what?”

“Edward. It’s always about him, isn’t it? Tell me, Harry, what is it you want from me? Do you want me to go and talk to him about your friend?”

“No.”

“You want me to ask him about those two dead men? Is that why you told me this? Is that what’s going on between us?”

“That’s not why I told you.”

“You don’t get it, do you, Harry? I’m with you because I want to be away from him. From what he does. From the people he has around him.”

“Then why don’t you leave him?”

“And move in with you? Is that your idea of a solution?”

“You could do anything,” he said. “Anything you wanted.”

She finished dressing, tucked the tail of her sweater into her jeans.

“You think so? Do you actually believe it would be that simple?” Her voice softened. “Sometimes, Harry, I think you really don’t understand things very well at all.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

She picked up her shoes.

“I’m sorry about what happened today,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to be the one who found those men. But that has nothing to do with me.”

“I know.”

“I hope you and your friend work things out.”

“Don’t leave like this.”

“It’s late.”

“Stay here.”

“I have to get back. I might not be able to call you for a couple of days. Maybe longer.”

“I love you,” he said.

“What?” She stopped in the doorway.

“I said I love you.”

She stood there, watching him.

“Your timing’s a little off,” she said.

“Stay here tonight.”

“You don’t understand, do you, Harry? You really don’t.”

She turned away and went down the hall into darkness. He heard her footsteps on the stairs, heard the front door open. He could not move.

His sleep that night was fitful, his dreams dark. Bloated corpses reached for him, took his hand, and drew him into darkness.

He got up a little after six, the sour taste of the dreams forcing him into the day. He showered and dressed, then paced downstairs, drinking coffee, until it was late enough to start making calls.

He called Bobby’s house a little after eight and Janine answered. When Bobby picked up the phone his voice was thick with sleep.

“We need to talk,” Harry said. “Today.”

“What happened?”

“I found the car.”

“Jimmy’s?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At the airport. There were two bodies in the trunk.”

Silence on the line.

“There’s a chance it’s not him,” Harry said. “But I wouldn’t put money on it. If he ripped you off, he didn’t make it very far afterward.”

“Oh, Christ.”

“We’ll know for certain soon. There are police all over this, but I’ve kept you out of it so far. You know where Pratt’s is in Asbury?”

“Yeah.”

“Meet me there this afternoon, say four-thirty. I might know more by then. We need to talk in person. Phones are no good.”

“Jesus … I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it,” Harry said.

For lunch, he made a bacon and lettuce sandwich, carried it out onto the front porch. He could get only half of it down, so he broke up the rest and tossed it onto the grass. Birds circled, swooped and landed, snatched up pieces, and flew away.

When the phone rang he brushed crumbs from his pants, went inside. It was Ray.

“Tell me something I want to hear,” Harry said.

“How about some preliminary autopsy results?”

“That’s quick.”

“Wesniak put a rush on it. He had them in there at six-thirty this morning. Toxicology report’s still pending and the prints aren’t back from AFIS yet. But they know a little.”

“What?”

“Two males, both of them bound. Each shot twice in the back of the head.”

“Was it Cortez?”

“Looks like it, but they haven’t gotten his dental records yet. They’re trying to find a next of kin.”

“He has a sister in Denver. She’s listed under Cortez, first initial A.”

“I’ll pass that along.”

“What about the other one?”

“Hector Ramirez. That name ring a bell? His fingerprints were on file in Trenton. A biker, used to ride with the Pagans when they were still going strong. Now he lives—lived—down in South Jersey, Mays Landing or some place like that, I didn’t write it down. He was Cortez’s cousin.”

“They know that for sure?”

“They’ve already been in touch with Ramirez’s mother, lives in Philly. She hadn’t seen him in a month. Where do you think he fits in here?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of him. He might have been the buyer, or Cortez may have taken him along for backup. Or it might be something else altogether. Did they find the slugs?”

“All four of them. Thirty-eights. Burns on the back of the head, so it was probably point-blank range. Professional.”

“What else?”

“Traces of white powder in the trunk. On Ramirez too. They haven’t finished the tests, but chances are it will turn out to be heroin or cocaine. So they had the merchandise on them at some point.”

“And somebody took it away from them.”

“Looks like. They’re tearing the car apart now. The phony plates were old, hadn’t been registered in years. Someone must have had them lying around somewhere.”

“Will you hear if they turn up anything more?”

“Will I hear? Probably. Will you hear? Only if I tell you. But what you should be worrying about is what you’re going to tell Wesniak. You talk to him yet?”

“No, I was planning to call later.”

“Do it. His pushing through these autopsies like this isn’t good news.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it means he’s taking a personal interest in the case. At some point he’s going to want to know for certain where you figure into this, and the smoke you floated his way yesterday isn’t going to be enough.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“No, and I don’t want to, because I have the feeling he’s going to ask me questions I can’t answer.”

“I’ll call.”

“Do that. You wrongfoot him again and he’s going to think you’re more involved then you are, and he’s not going to let it go.”

“I guessed as much. He had the look.”

“You used to have that look too, Harry.”

“Maybe I did,” he said. “A hundred years ago.”

“Good of you to call,” Wesniak said.

“No problem. But I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help to you.”

“Well, you never know. That was a bad situation yesterday, you were a little shook up, I know. And there were other agencies present, so I can understand why maybe you were reluctant to get more involved. But you’ve got to look at it from my point of view as the investigating officer.”

“Everything I told you yesterday was true.”

“So what were you leaving out?”

He got up from the kitchen table, went over to lean against the counter, taking his time. He switched the phone to his other hand, looked out into the backyard.

“I wouldn’t hold back anything that I thought was relevant to your investigation. The job’s tough enough as it is, I know.”

“Glad to hear you feel that way.”

“And I don’t know anything about those two bodies or how they got there.”