The Hooker: A Reprehensible Acts Story (4 page)

“What
do they want?” I managed after a long moment.

“To
bring them cash,” Lance said without emotion.
 

“When?”

“Tomorrow
night.”

***

“Did you get it all?” I asked.

“Yes,”
Lance replied and opened the same wall cabinet that housed the newspaper.
 
He pulled out a padded envelope and tossed it
at me.
 
“There’s my share.”

I
caught the envelope and took out the cash.
 
I gave it a quick count—five grand.
 
I returned the cash to the envelope, adding my five thousand.

“Will
Jane wonder where the cash went?”
 
Lance
continued rummaging in the cabinet.

“Nah,
she doesn’t know all my bank accounts.”

Lance
found what he was looking for and pulled out a gun.

“Jesus,
Lance!
 
We don’t need that.
 
Put the damn thing away.”

“Yes,
we do.”
 
He pulled back the slide on the
automatic and released it.
 
It snapped
back into position, sounding like a tree branch snapping.
 
“We’re going to need all the protection we
can get.”

“All
he wants is the money.
 
He won’t hurt
us.”

“The
guy was Hope’s fucking pimp.
 
He doesn’t
ride the same rails as we do.”

“Still,
the guy is a businessman.
 
He’ll
understand basic economics.”
 

“His
name is Blade.
 
I doubt the guy is a
Zen-fucking-Buddhist.”

“Don’t
bring the gun, Lance,” I insisted.
 
“Please.”

“Fuck
you, Mark.
 
I’m bringing it.
 
We wouldn’t be in this shit if you hadn’t
lost your mind.
 
You couldn’t just bitch
slap the prick.
 
No, you had to smash the
fucker’s brains in.”

At
last, Lance pointed a finger.
 
He had to
have been bottling it up and I couldn’t really blame him.
 
I tried to argue with him, but couldn’t.
 
We were too late for that.

“Okay,
bring the damn thing, if it’ll make you happy.”

***

The sign said Davis Park was
closed.
 
A bar draped across the entrance
and exit to the parking lot confirmed the fact.
 
But that never stopped anyone from using the facilities.
 
The park exhibited all the signs of
misuse—used condoms, hypodermics, graffiti and pointless vandalism.
 
And we were adding to the park
credentials—extortion.
 
Lance parked on
the street.

Scurrying
over the low masonry wall, I said, “What a great place to come.”

“Not
our call, is it?” Lance said sourly.
 
“This way.”

The
barbecue area was deserted, except for a young black couple doing what teenage
couples do.

Getting
close, I whispered, “Is that Blade?”

I
didn’t whisper quietly enough.
 
The
girl’s beau, with a close cropped afro, overheard me.
 
“What the fuck do you want, asshole?”

His
girl uncurled from around him.
 
She was
good-looking with a foul mouth.
 
“Yeah,
bitch.
 
What have you got to say for
yourself?”

“.32
automatic,” Lance replied, bringing the gun out.
 
“What have you got to say now, asshole?”

Anger
boiled underneath the teenager’s eyes, only tempered by his fear.
 
The girl was all fear.
 
We could have milked her and sold the stuff
to medical science.
 
Lance flicked off
the safety and the kids bolted.
 
We
didn’t let their seats go cold and sat at the picnic table.

“When
are we supposed to meet?” I asked.

“At
ten.”
 
Lance didn’t put the gun away.

I
checked my watch, two minutes ‘til.
  
I
was still checking my watch at twenty after and thirty after.
 
It wasn’t until forty-five after that I
realized what Blade was up to.

“He’s
testing us,” I said.

“Who?
 
Blade?”

“Yeah.
 
He wants to see if we brought anyone with us
or if we went to the cops.
 
I bet the son
of a bitch has been here for hours.”
 
I
scanned the park.
 
It was impossible to
tell if anyone was hiding out in the trees, the baseball field or any of the
accessory buildings.
 
“He’ll know you’re
armed.”

“So?”

“It
doesn’t look like a bargaining tool.”

“I’m
not sure I would agree with you.”

I
removed the padded envelope with the cash in it and placed it on the picnic
table between us.
 
I patted the envelope
and left my hand on top.

“What
are you doing?”

“Letting
him know we’re here for a reason and to stop pissing around, our butts are
cold.
 
Put the piece away.
 
Keep it handy, but put it away.”

Lance
frowned but did as he was told.
 
The
gestures worked.
 
Ten minutes later, we
were three.

“Good
evening.”
 
Blade emerged from the
shadows, pointing a gun.
 
“You with the
gun, join your friend with the money.”

Lance
unhooked himself from the table and sat next to me.
 
He launched an angry glare my way for making
him put the gun away.
 
Not that it
mattered.
 
If Lance had started shooting,
we’d be dead.
 
Still pointing the
automatic, Blade sat where Lance had been sitting.

Blade
was Native American.
 
He pushed the cultural
stereotype by sporting a ponytail that ran halfway down his back.
 
It was obvious that Blade wasn’t a man to be
fucked with.
 
It was in his eyes.
 
Even under the scant park lighting, Blade
possessed killer’s eyes.
 
I hadn’t known
what that meant until I stared into his.
 
I wondered if that was what Lance had seen in mine when he had dragged
me off Hope.

“I
realize that we are wary of each other.
 
Neither of us knows what the other is capable of,” Blade said.

“But
we have an idea,” I said.

“Yes.”
 
Blade pointed the gun at my chest, resting
the butt on the table.
 
“I saw what you
did with Hope’s corpse.
 
So, I know you
are capable of killing.”

I
said nothing, neither did Lance.

Blade
turned the gun on Lance.
 
“Put the gun on
the table.”

Lance
flashed another fearsome glance at me.

Slowly,
Blade laid his weapon to rest on the table, but kept his finger looped inside
the trigger guard.
 
“I don’t want us to
be sidetracked on whether one of us is going to shoot while we’re talking.
 
You put your gun on the table and we’ll leave
them alone.
 
And should we need them,
we’ll know where to find them and both of us will be equal on the draw.
 
All’s fair in love and war and all that bullshit.”
 

Lance
did as he was told, laying the gun to the right of him on the table, just out
of quick reach.
 
Blade removed his finger
from the trigger guard.

“You’ve
brought the money?” Blade asked, turning to me.

I
patted the envelope.

“Ten
grand?”

“What
you asked for,” Lance hissed.

“Can
I see it?”

I
nodded, grasping the envelope.
 
Smiling,
Blade held out his hand to take the money.
 
I didn’t give it to him.
 
Instead,
I removed the cash and flicked through the wad so each bill could be seen for a
fraction of a second before the next took its place.

“Don’t
fuck around.
 
I want to count it myself.”

“And
you will.
 
I want to discuss price.”

“This
isn’t a negotiation.”

“Well,
I say it is.”

“You’re
not in a position to say shit.”

“Hope
isn’t worth ten grand.”

Disgusted,
Blade looked away from me, waved a dismissive hand and sighed.
 
“Speak.”

“Hope
was transgender.
 
Not even a very good
looking one.
 
She didn’t generate that
much cash for you.
 
She had to chase us
down with some line just to be able to pitch to us.
 
There can’t be many who’d want to fuck a guy.”

“You’re
wrong.
 
You’d be surprised how many want
to sample a lady man.
 
Eighth wonder of
the world to some.”

“Not
to us, pal,” Lance remarked.

Blade
shrugged.

“I
think Hope is worth five grand.”
 
I
separated the bills and put the five thousand in the middle of the table.

“Let
me put the situation in terms you understand.”
 
Blade raised an eyebrow but his hand smothered the pile of
hundreds.
 
“Okay, Hope isn’t worth much
to you.
 
That’s cool.
 
But how much are you worth?
 
The both of you.”

Lance
and I shared a glance.

“The
cops are already putting me through the wringer over this.
 
They know I was Hope’s pimp.
 
They know pimps on occasion kill their
bitches.
 
If they don’t pin it on me,
they’ll want to pin it on someone.
 
I
could give them you two.
 
A forensic lab
can match you to the crime, I’m sure.
 
So, I’ll ask you again.
 
How much
are you worth, huh?
 
Ten grand sounds
pretty slim from where I’m sitting.”

I
tossed the envelope with the remaining cash at Blade.
 
It slapped him in the chest.
 
Catching the money, he flashed a winner’s
grin.

“Nice
try, fellas.
 
It might have worked if you
had anything to bargain with.”
 
Blade
pocketed the cash.
 
“I think that
concludes our business.
 
I’ll contact you
when I need more.”

“Hey,
no, this is a one off,” Lance said.

Getting
up from the picnic table and picking up his automatic, Blade laughed.
 
“Who said that?”

“Ten
grand is your compensation,” Lance said.
 
“That’s it.”

Blade
tucked the pistol into the small of his back.
 
“The problem hasn’t gone away.
 
The cops are pushing and that means expenses, which you’ll have to pick
up.”

“Fuck
that,” I spat.

“No,
fuck you.
 
Next time, be more careful
when you kill.”

Lance
snatched up his .32 and aimed it at Blade.
 
I involuntarily jerked away from my friend.

Blade
held up his hands in surrender but showed no sign of fear.
 
“Hey, be cool.
 
This is where things can get fucked up.”

“Only
for you,” Lance said and a spasmodic smile lit up his face.
 
“Only for you, pal.”

“Do
you want the money, huh?
 
Is that it?”

Lance
shook his head.
 
“No, I want you to keep
it.
 
I just don’t want you coming
back.”
  
His gun hand wavered.
 
Blade latched onto Lance’s fear.
 
The pimp grinned.

“I
can’t guarantee I won’t be asking for more.
 
It’s a fact.
 
We both know
it.
 
Now, put the gun away.”

“No.”
 
The .32 still wavered in Lance’s grasp.

I
don’t think Blade believed Lance would shoot or he wouldn’t have gone for his
gun.
 
Blade slowly lowered his hands to
his sides,
then
snatched at his back for the
automatic.
 
Blade was fast; I’ll give him
that.
 
He had that 9mm out and cocked
before I could blink, but Lance didn’t have to do all that.
 
He just had to squeeze the trigger—and he
did.