He didn’t complete the action.
He spun, picked up the chair he’d been sitting on, and threw it through a plate-glass window facing the back deck.
In a flash, Johnson, Monroe, and Raj pulled out guns that they’d hidden under tables and chairs. If you’d blinked you would’ve thought they were magic. They pointed the guns at Rafael.
Rafael’s partner and three other men in the crowd pulled out guns and pointed them at Johnson, Monroe, and Raj. Not as fast but just as deadly.
I fished in the front of my pants but couldn’t get at the Ruger fast enough to make a difference.
The men with the guns faced off, no one moving, no one saying a word.
Then the door from the back deck opened.
Johnson, Monroe, Raj, and the gang members swung so their guns pointed at the two men and the woman who walked through it.
The men were Peter Finley and the other cop who’d been checking for weapons when we came in. They held the woman by the wrists and ignored the guns that were pointing at them. “We found her outside,” Finley said to Johnson. Then to everyone else, “Anyone know who she is?”
I raised my hand slowly.
“Hi, Joe,” the woman said.
“Hi, Lucinda.”
Johnson kept cool. He lowered his gun before anyone else and set it on the table in front of him, harmless for the moment but still in easy reach. Three of the gang members lowered their guns. Monroe and Raj tucked theirs away. Rafael’s partner pointed his at Johnson until the room calmed, then tipped it toward the floor but with his finger still on the trigger.
Johnson cocked his head and looked at Lucinda. “What are you doing here?”
She said nothing.
“I asked her to come,” I lied.
Johnson glared at me and turned to the crowd. “If we’d all do as we’re told, this would work a lot better.” He looked from face to face to see if everyone was listening, and added, “That’s my nice way of warning you not to ignore me.” Again, he looked at me. “We’ll talk about this later.” Then, back to the crowd, “There’s a bed in the back. Which one of you wants her?”
Uneasy laughter filled the room. A few of the gang members volunteered. Two offered to share her. Lucinda pulled against the hands that were holding her wrists. The skinny man who’d said he saw me on TV spoke to Johnson, “That ain’t funny and it ain’t cool.”
Johnson smiled at him and turned to Finley. “Would you please walk the lady to her car?”
“I’ll take her,” I said.
He turned on me. “No,” he said. “You stay here.”
Lucinda gave me a look and a nod to say it was all right.
I figured she had a better chance if she went with Finley alone than if I crossed Johnson. I said, “Whatever.”
Finley and Lucinda left and Johnson turned back to Rafael. His voice was calm but vicious. “You fucked up big. We invite you to talk and you start throwing furniture. Look around and start thinking. All these other guys are in. For a few bucks each they’re buying security and peace of mind. They’re eliminating the competition. They can do their business and we’ll leave them alone. You know what we’ll do with all that time we save when we’re not hassling them? We’ll be busting you. Six months from now, there won’t be anything left of you and your friends.”
If Johnson’s speech worried Rafael, he didn’t show it. He gestured to his partner and the two headed for the same door Lucinda and Finley had just used. As Rafael stepped outside, he flipped his middle finger at Johnson.
Johnson laughed and said, “Hey, Rafael.”
Rafael and his partner turned.
Johnson grabbed his gun from the table and fired it. The partner’s head snapped back, struck by a piece of metal that weighed about ten grams but hit harder than a truck.
Rafael opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. He looked down at his companion. Everyone else looked too. The man’s face was half gone. Bone, brain, and blood spilled from the broken shell that had been his skull. The skinny man who knew me from TV said, “Fuuuck!” The others said nothing but looked like they agreed with him.
Then Rafael ran. No one from Johnson’s crew stopped him or went after him.
Johnson lowered his gun, stared at me, and spoke to the crowd. “In case anyone’s wondering, that’s an example of what happens if you break the rules.” Then he asked, “Does anyone else want to drop out now?”
No one moved.
“Okay,” he said. “Ten bucks apiece tonight. Next week, Joe and Raj will want a list of active members and ten dollars for each of them. Same thing the following week and every week after it. With a little organization, life will be easy for you guys.”
“For you too,” someone called out.
“Yes,” Johnson said. “For us, too.”
We sat in the living room after the gang members left, their spinning tires spitting gravel from the driveway, their stereos blasting music. Finley had come back in and nailed a piece of plywood over the broken window. We’d picked up the empty beer cans. We’d mopped the floor and deck where Rafael’s partner fell. Three men had gone to the garage and returned with shovels. They’d carried the body of the partner to the beach and, in less than a half hour, had covered him with sand in a hole five feet deep. Deep enough to keep the smell down and the wild animals out. Deep enough to keep the winter storms from exposing the remains.
Now, Johnson and Monroe seemed thoughtful but Raj and Finley laughed easily and looked happy, like they’d escaped a bloody battle without getting wounded. So did the other guys in Johnson’s crew.
The duct tape had come loose on my thigh, so I ripped away the rest of it and took out the Ruger.
Johnson turned on me and said, “What the fuck were you thinking?”
The question sounded rhetorical so I didn’t answer.
He gestured at Finley but kept his eyes on me. “Peter could have shot your friend just as easily as bringing her in for you to identify. Then you would’ve had a dead friend and we would’ve had another mess to clean up-smaller than the one you made at Southshore but big enough. You’re making it hard for us to work with you.”
Again I said nothing. I figured that cleaning up another body when he’d just splattered one across Finley’s living room and deck wouldn’t be a lot of extra work, but telling him that seemed like a bad idea. And explaining that I’d told Lucinda not to follow me-that she must have hung back when the FBI van followed us when we shot across Congress Parkway, fallen in behind us when we’d reappeared, and come on her own-would just make him ask why I’d told her about my evening plans to begin with.
“And who told you to bring a gun?” he said.
I said, “I figured the idea for this meeting was just crazy enough that someone like Rafael would throw a chair through a window. I wanted to be ready.”
Johnson sighed. “You got the first part right, but we expected that. We were ready for it. Were you? Next time don’t disobey orders. Or if you do, do it right. If you’re going to carry a gun, make sure you can get to it. If it weren’t for me, Monroe, and Raj, you would’ve had ten holes in your body before you finished jerking off and got the gun out of your pants.”
“I could’ve gotten it out,” I said.
“You could’ve shot yourself in the balls.” He turned to Monroe. “You brought this guy in. He’s your responsibility.”
Monroe glared at him.
“No more fuckups,” Johnson said.
Raj interrupted. “You think we’ve got a problem with Rafael?”
Johnson shook his head. “He’s easy. We know where he stands. It’s the ones who stayed quiet that we’ve got to worry about.” He looked back at me. “Them and anyone we don’t know well enough to count on.”
“Why did you shoot Rafael’s partner?” I asked. “Why not Rafael himself?”
Johnson spoke slowly, like he figured I needed special help. “You don’t shoot a gang leader unless you want the rest of his gang to be gunning for you. Rafael’s partner made the point.”