Sunset Express

He said, 'Maybe I'm confused. Isn't this my house? Isn't that my sofa? The only thing that doesn't seem to belong here is you.' Showing attitude.

'Look at me, Luke. Do you recognize me?'

'Sure. On television. You're the detective who's working with Jonathan.' He closed the door. He was moving slowly. Wary, but trying to be oh-so-cool about it. 'How's Jonathan?'

I smiled at him. 'Funny you should ask, Luke. Jonathan is why I'm here.'

That's when he saw the Baggies. He stared at them for most of an eternity, and then he said, 'What's that?' Like he'd never seen them before.

'Here's the deal, Luke. You used to work in Jonathan's contracts department, and I want to know everything there is to know about Jonathan and his relationship to Teddy Martin. You're going to tell me what you know, and then you're going to get me into his office so that I can see for myself. Are we on the same page with that?'

He shook his head as if I'd spoken Somali. 'Are you high? I don't know you. Get out of here.'

I leaned back and spread my arms along the hack of the couch so that my jacket would open and he could see the Dan Wesson.

'Look, I'm not doing anything for you. I'm going to call Jonathan right now. I'm going to tell him what's going on.'

'

'Oh, you'll go along, Luke. Trust me.' I pointed at the Baggies with my foot. 'You've been a bad boy.'

He smiled like he'd decided exactly how he was going to play it out and he knew he could beat me because he was smarter than me. 'Is this how you're going to get me to do what you want? You're going to call the police? You figure you can have me bounced for violating probation?'

I shook my head. 'No way, Luke. We don't need the police.'

He smiled wider and moved past me, going to the phone. 'Tell you what. I'll call them for you.' He picked up the phone and waved it, showing me just how in control he thought he was. 'Because when they get here and pull us in, I promise you that I can beat this nine ways from Monday in court.' Waving the phone at the dope. 'That's not mine. You're here, you planted it, and you're trying to extort me to screw Jonathan because of the Martin case. Man, Jonathan will have a field day with that one. I can see it now.'

I looked disappointed. 'You didn't listen, Luke. I'm not going to call the cops. I've already made my call.'

Worley frowned and looked uncertain. 'Who'd you call?'

Someone knocked at the door.

Lucas Worley suddenly didn't look so sure of himself.

'Don't you think you should get that?'

He didn't look at the door. 'Who is it?'

Someone knocked again.

I said, 'I kinda figured that you wouldn't cooperate, and that if I tried setting you up with the police that you'd find a way to beat it, so I called a guy I know named Gerald DiVega. You know DiVega?'

His mouth formed into a little O, like the name was ringing a bell but he couldn't quite be sure of it.

I went to the door. 'Gerald DiVega sells drugs to westside hipsters like yourself. For many years he sold drugs on the streets, like so many other gentlemen of free enterprise, but in the past few years he's chosen to cultivate a more upscale clientele: movie and TV people, music people, lawyers and doctors, the very same people you're selling to with your little pissant business.' I opened the door and Ray and Joe stepped in. They were both wearing sunglasses and looking somber. Ray reached under his jacket and drew out a Colt.45 Government model. Joe Pike took out his Python. I said, 'This is Mr X and this is Mr Y. Mr D sent them because he doesn't like you cutting in on his clientele.'

Ray Depente said, 'This the muthuhfuckuh?' He took a black tube from his jacket pocket and screwed it onto the muzzle of the.45 as he said it.

That's him.'

Lucas Worley's eyes went wide, and he took one step back. 'Hey. What is this? What's going on?' Smug was gone. Arrogance had vanished.

Ray and Joe crossed the room like two large, sinuous sharks gliding toward a blood spoor. Ray moved between Worley and the stairs, and Joe moved in from the other side and grabbed Worley's throat hard and rode him down on the couch. When Joe grabbed him, Lucas made a gurgling sound. I said, 'I guess you should've called the cops when you had the chance, Luke.'

Ray waved the.45 at me. 'You can split now, you want. Mr DiVega says thanks.'

'Can't I stay?'

Ray shrugged like it was nothing to him. 'Either way.'

Lucas Worley's eyes were bulging and his face changed from red to purple. He was clawing at Joe's one hand with both of his, but it was like a child trying to bend steel bars.

Ray jacked a round into the.45, then put the muzzle of the suppressor against Worley's cheek and held out his other hand to shield himself from the blood-splatter that would surely follow and Lucas Worley thrashed and moaned and his bowels and bladder went loose at the same time. Guess the real world wasn't seeming like Easy Rider anymore. Guess it wasn't like a movie or a television program. Not much glamor in messing your shorts.

I said, 'You guys don't shoot him, yet.'

Lucas Worley's eyes rolled toward me.

I walked over and squatted by him to look into the rolling eyest I said, 'I helped Mr DiVega out a couple of years back, and he owes me. He knows that I want something from you, and he's willing to play this however I want. You see?'

Lucas Worley was trying to shake his head, trying to say he wasn't trying to cut in on anyone's trade and wouldn't do it anymore if only they'd let him live. Of course, since Joe was strangling him, we couldn't quite make out the words.

'These gentlemen have orders to kill you unless I tell them not to.'

Ray said, 'Kill yo' ass dead.' I frowned at Ray over the top of Worley's head, and Ray shrugged. Overacting.

I said, 'So what's it going to be, Luke? You going to help me out with Jonathan Green, or do I walk out the door and make these guys happy?'

Lucas Worley gurgled some more.

I said, 'I didn't understand you, Luke.'

Joe released some of the pressure, and Lucas Worley croaked, 'Anything. I'll do anything.'

Ray Depente pressed the gun in harder and looked angry. 'Shit. You mean we don't get to kill the little muthuhfuckuh?'

'Not yet. But maybe later.'

Ray squinted down at the rolling eyes, then withdrew the gun and stepped back. Joe let Worley go and also stepped away. Ray said, 'You got a pass this time, dipshit. But Mr DiVega be on your ass now, you understand?'

Lucas Worley was frozen on the couch like a squirrel in front of an onrushing car.

Ray said, 'You just retired from the dope dealin' business, didn't you?'

Worley nodded.

Ray said, 'You're giving Mr DiVega your word, and you know what will happen if you break your word, don't you?'

Worley nodded again. I think he was too terrified to speak.

Ray looked at the framed Harvard Law School diploma and shook his head. 'Dumb muthuhfuckuh. You Oughta be ashamed of yourself.'

He put away the.45, then he and Joe Pike walked over to the bar and made themselves a drink.

I said, 'I told you that you'd see it my way, Luke. Now go wash off and change your clothes. We've got some work to do.'

CHAPTER 29

When Lucas Worley was in the shower I looked at Ray Depente. '"Kill yo' ass dead"?'

'I thought it was very effective.'

Joe Pike shook his head. 'Samuel L. Jackson.'

Ray frowned. 'Since when did you become Sir Laurence Olivier?'

Pike's mouth twitched, and he went over to browse through Worley's CDs.

By the time we got Worley out of the shower and dressed and sitting in the living room, it was two-forty that afternoon. Joe and Ray were back in character, Joe standing behind the couch like an ominous shadow, Ray watching ESPN on the big-screen. I said, 'Luke, do you have a gun here in your house?'