Wet Work - A Greg Kelton Short Story (2 page)

The mention of money didn’t phase Kelton in
the least. “It doesn’t matter how much,” he said. “Money isn’t a
big concern of mine. If you really know as much as you claim to you
would have known that too.”

“
Actually, I did,” Walter said. “It’s
one of the main reasons I chose you, actually. Precisely because it
isn’t only about the money with you.”

“
Then why mention it?”

“
To see if it was actually
true.”

“
Well, now you know,” Kelton said. “So
if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my beer in peace and then go
get some sleep.”

“
What if I told you it was for a good
purpose?” Walter said. “That the man you would be taking care of
has it coming to him? That he deserves it?”

Now this gave Kelton pause. One of the
biggest factors in whether or not he took a job was the
circumstances behind it. But that alone wasn’t enough to sway him.
Not in this situation. There were still way too many unanswered
questions for him to even consider working for Walter. Kelton
didn’t get himself into situations unless he knew the specifics
inside and out. And right now he was running blind.

“
I’d still tell you to go find someone
else,” Kelton said.

“
Don’t you think that if I had someone
else that could do this job for me I’d have gone to him and not
wasted my time with someone that I knew would be a pain in the
ass?”

“
I don’t know and I don’t care,”
Kelton said. “But I do know that you’d better get up out of that
seat before you really start to piss me off.”

“
Oh, enough with the tough guy
shtick,” Walter said. “Earl Paladin speaks highly of you and I need
something done that you’ll agree with doing, so let’s just cut the
bullshit.”

Now this got Kelton’s attention. “How do you
know Earl?”

“
He’s done some work for me in the
past,” Walter said.

Kelton nodded to stall for time and thought
about this last point. Earl was his mentor and one of the only men
on this earth he truly trusted. If Walter really had spoken to Earl
about him, that changed everything. But it still wasn’t enough. Not
yet.

“
I suppose Earl told you about my
conditions for accepting a job?”

“
He did,” Walter said. “And I assure
you, this situation fits comfortably into your
parameters.”

“
Yeah, well I’ll decide that if you
don’t mind.”

“
So you’ll listen to my
offer?”

“
I’ll listen,” Kelton said. “But I
can’t promise you anything.”

“
Nor would I expect you to,” Walter
said.

“
Then the floor is all yours, old
man.”

3

Hell was the perfect name for the nightclub
Kelton found himself in just after midnight. The place was dark,
smelled of shit and sulfur, and was as hot as its namesake.

In order to get to the far side of the club,
Kelton had to pass through hundreds of misguided youth moshing to
the ear-shattering sounds of the four-piece death metal band
pounding away on stage. The aggression of the crowd was palpable
but controlled, with the mosh pits primarily contained within the
two separate fifteen-foot circles of bodies in the middle of the
floor.

Kelton made his way along the fringes of the
building, squeezing through the narrow gaps of the crowd, watching
the spectacle with a little smile on his face as memories of his
college days bubbled up to the surface. Alcohol and music and
friends and Melissa—

The mere thought of his ex-wife’s name
brought toxic memories to the surface:

The acrid, coppery smell permeating the
whole house. I’M SORRY scrawled in red Johner on the door. The
bodies sprawled out on the bed, eyes closed, looking so peaceful.
On his knees, puking all over the floor. Policemen and lab techs
swarming the house. Sitting on the toilet with the barrel of a
shotgun in his mouth, big toe poised on the trigger.

Kelton shook his head violently to purge the
visions from his mind.

All he had to do was think her name and the
good feelings were immediately flushed from his system. His smile
faded and he forced the memories back into the basement of his mind
then closed and locked the door. There was no reason to go there.
Not ever again. He was a different man then, with a different name
and a different set of circumstances. He was no longer James
Howlett. He’d been reborn. And Greg Kelton had no past.

A fight broke out in the ranks of the pit,
but was quickly broken up, and seconds later, the two combatants
were arm-in-arm, going against the grain and wearing blows from
their fellow moshers. Kelton shook his head and yawned to release a
bit of adrenalin. Although he strived to stay as even-keeled as
possible, even he was not completely impervious to the intoxicating
combination of testosterone and controlled violence that permeated
the inside of the club.

He glanced towards the stage, where the
singer stood front and center with a bass guitar in hand. He was
flanked on each side by head-banging guitarists while the drummer
sat on his stool behind the other three members, pounding away on
his skins with his back facing the crowd. On the back of the
drummer’s sweat-drenched shirt were two words in large, black
letters.

FUCK YOU!

Ah, the youth of today. No different than
the youth of yesterday. Or the day before that for that matter.

There was a flurry of heavy riffs combined
with furious drum pounding, then silence. The crowd cheered madly
and screamed for more. The band took a moment’s breather then
started up again with another riff just as Kelton arrived at the
far side of the club.

The double-doors leading the bowels of the
club were watched over at all times. But the security guard knew
Kelton by sight and let him in without a hassle. Kelton nodded his
thanks and the guard nodded back without letting his attention
wander from the crowd.

Kelton was on his way to the door at the end
of the hall on the right when he heard raised voices coming from
the nearest one to his left. He peeked in and saw a gaggle of
20-something boys and girls drinking and smoking. All of them were
trying their damndest to act and look disaffected but all of them
were failing miserably. All except for one; a tall, Nordic-looking
blonde in her early thirties standing in the corner.

Her name was Heather Dutrun and she alone
pulled off the look. As well she should. She had spent most of her
life perfecting it. Kelton watched as she just stood there, holding
court, not taking part in any of the conversations but dominating
all of them by her mere presence, getting sly glances from the rest
of the group to see if she was watching them. Which she was. Just
not when they were looking.

Heather glanced up and saw Kelton. A tiny
smile skittered over her features, as extreme a reaction as she
ever showed in public. It went unnoticed by every one in the room
except Kelton, who’d spent enough time with her over the years to
pick up on it. She held up one finger, telling him she’d be there
in a minute. He nodded in acknowledgement and stepped out of the
doorway and waited.

She exited the room less than a minute later
and together they headed towards her office at the far end of the
hall.

Heather unlocked the door to her office and
led Kelton inside. It was a sparsely adorned room with plain white
walls and no decorations. Against one wall sat an old leather
couch. Opposite the couch was a plain oak desk with two laptops and
a pair of speakers atop it. Next to the desk was a single bookcase
full of books. Nothing else, no television, no stereo, no
entertainment center. As much as she loved to play up her
appearance when she was in public, once she got down to work she
was all business. But sometimes it took her a while to get
there.

As soon as he shut and locked the door
behind them she hooked her arm in his. He didn’t bother trying to
pull away. She was only trying to get a rise out of him, just like
always. He’d learned quickly that the best way to deal with it was
to just ignore it.

“
So what do I owe this pleasure?” she
said.

“
I want you to look at some stuff for
me,” Kelton replied.

She released his arm, stepped back from him
and looked him over. “I know what you want me to look at,” she
said, smiling wickedly at him. “But you have to get naked if you
want me to see it properly.”

“
You can do what I need you to with
your clothes on,” Kelton said, keeping it completely business-like
despite Heather’s ribbing.

“
Well, I’m sure I could, but it
wouldn’t be as much fun.”

“
I’m not here for fun. I’m here for
business.”

“
With you everything’s business, all
the time,” Heather said. “Why don’t you let your hair down, have a
little fun. You never know, you might enjoy it.”

Enjoying it was
exactly
what Kelton was afraid of. But he’d
never admit that to anyone, let alone Heather.
Besides, he didn’t know how much of her song and dance was
just an act and how much of it was genuine. And he wasn’t about to
test the waters. Even if he wanted to. He had no desire to ever go
down that road again. So he just looked at her blankly and
waited.

Eventually she gave in. “Fine,” she said,
pretending to pout. But her smiling face belied her tone. “Then
down to business it is. What exactly do you need?”

“
I need you to check out some
information,” Kelton said. He pulled a zip drive from his pocket
and handed it to her.

“
What’s this?” she said, a curious
little smile on her face.

“
I think it’s called a flash
drive.”

“
I know
what
it is,” Heather said. “What I mean is, what
are you doing with it? I thought you despised
technology.”

“
I do.”

“
I mean, you don’t even own a cell
phone yet, right?”

“
Not yet,” Kelton said.
And not ever,
he could have added,
but there was no reason to get into that right now. “As for the
flash drive, it was given to me.”

“
By who?”

“
A man who wants me to do a job for
him.”

“
Do I know this man?”

“
I doubt it,” Kelton said. “I only met
him tonight.”

Heather tilted her head and gave him a funny
look.

“
What?” he said.

“
It’s just not like you to take a job
from someone you don’t know.”

“
I haven’t agreed to do anything
yet.”

“
Then let me rephrase,” Heather said.
“It’s not like you to
consider
taking a job from someone you don’t know.”

Kelton shrugged. “Earl sent him my way so I
figured I’d give him a chance.”

“
And?” she said.

“
And what?” he asked.

“
And how much is he paying
you?”

“
You know it’s not about the money
with me.”

“
It may not be
about
the money, but that doesn’t mean the money
doesn’t matter at all."

“
It doesn’t,” he said.

She laughed. “You can’t tell me that if some
stranger would have asked you do a job for him for free, you would
have even considered it, even if Earl did send him your way.”

“
If the cause was right, sure I
would.”

“
Bullshit,” she said, waving him off.
“You’d say thanks but no thanks.”

“
Yeah, you’re probably right,” he
said, just to get the conversation back on track.

He’d never before been able to convince her
that it was about the cause with him, not the money, and he knew he
stood no chance of doing so right now. Better to just move on.

“
So how much did offer you?” she
said.

“
A hundred thousand dollars,” Kelton
said, seeing no reason not to tell her the truth.

She smiled, satisfied in her own mind
that she was right, that it
was
about the money. Which was fine by him. He didn’t care what
she thought, as long as they could move on to business.

“
Must be one hell of a job,” Heather
said. “What’s it entail?”

“
Breaking into a house and killing the
man who lives there.”

“
That’s it?” she said.

Kelton nodded.

“
Sounds pretty cut and dry,” she
said.

“
It is.”

“
Then why the big payday?”

“
Circumstances,” Kelton said.
“Apparently the guy I’m supposed to kill isn’t just some regular
guy. He’s a former mob hitman that cut a deal with the feds that
landed him in the federal witness protection program.”

Heather whistled through her teeth. “Witness
Protection, huh? That’s some serious shit.”

“
It certainly is.”

“
I must say though, this whole thing
pokes a pretty big hole in your morals clause.”

“
How so?”

“
Do I really have to spell it out for
you?”

“
I’m afraid you do.”

“
You’re working for the mob,” Heather
said. “Killing this guy to get back at him for turning on
them.”