"She told them she'd lead them to this woman and her baby," Brad said. His voice sounded dead. He felt dead. He drained the rest of his drink. "She said they could have this woman and her baby in exchange for her own life. And she offered them money. All the money in our savings account.'
And… and they went for it?" William's face was damp with sweat.
*Yes. They took her in their van and she got the money. Then she… led them to.. "
"Oh fuck," Billy said. He hadn't taken another sip since Brad had begun, but now he drained the entire contents of the glass. "Where's the rest of that bottle?'
Brad got up to retrieve the bottle. When he brought it back, William took it and refilled his glass. Billy's hand shook as he poured the whiskey. He looked like he had just seen a horrible car accident. "Jesus Christ, Brad," William said, drinking down half of the glass's contents. "Jesus fucking Christ!"
1bey were going to renege on their deal," Brad said. "They tried to abduct her in the parking lot of that Coco's, probably to take her back to that cabin. But somehow-I don't know how she did it-she escaped. She got the hell out of there and screamed at the top of her lungs and they split."
"And they got that lady, right? And her baby?"
Brad nodded. He poured himself another glass of Jim Beam.
"Fuck!"
The two men were silent for a moment. William drank down the rest of his whiskey and quickly poured himself a refill. Despite already drinking steadily for the past forty minutes or so, Brad didn't feel the least bit drunk. He was sweating it out as rapidly as he was pouring it down.
"Billy, I need your help," Brad finally said, his voice low and shaky.
William looked at him. "What do you want to do? Go to the police?"
"1 don't know," Brad said. "I want to do something, but… I'm confused and I'm scared and…"
"Are you afraid these guys will come after you?"
Brad felt like he was going to collapse. He struggled to contain his emotions; he could feel his limbs shaking. He nodded, the tears springing to his eyes. "Yes"
William leaned forward. He set his hand on Brad's knee, looking directly into his face. "Listen, buddy, there's nothing to worry about. I'm going to help you, okay?"
Brad nodded. His throat hurt. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. "Yeah," he said, stammering. "I'm sorry, Billy," he said; choking back the tears. "It's just… I'm just so glad she's back and… and I had no idea what she went through and to… to think that… it was much worse than she let on… God, no wonder she's been acting this way!"
"I know," William said. He took Brad's hands in his own. Billy was acting more like a fatherly figure to him than a friend. Billy was twenty years Brad's senior, but he looked thirty."But now we know, and that means we can do something about it."
"I don't know what we can do, though," Brad said. He took a deep breath. He took a peek down the hall where his and Lisa's bedroom was, then looked back at Billy. "She didn't want me to tell anybody. She's scared that they'll make good on their threat. I know she is."
'Thankfully, Lisa has a good memory," William said. He had gained a lot of composure, and his stature was making Brad feel good about calling the lawyer over. "She got names. Tim Murray, Al, and Jeff. No last names on the other fellows, but I'm sure that shouldn't be too hard to get. We do have one full name of a victim, though. Debbie Martinez. That should be easy to trace. If she and her husband own a cabin in Big Bear, we can probably find the place Lisa was taken and locate the deed."
"Do you think we should go to the police?" Brad asked.
"You're goddamn right we should go to the police," William said. Now Billy was looking more angry than confused or frightened.
"I'm scared," Brad said. He looked at William, feeling suddenly flush with adrenaline. "I'm scared of what might happen if we go to the police. These guys have our address, and they have her social security card, for God's sakes!"
"Don't worry about that," William said. "I can get you and Lisa whisked away into a protection program. They won't be able to find you"
"Shit." Brad broke down and cried.
He felt hopeless.
When he gained a little bit of control over himself, he looked up at William. "I don't know what to do," he said, wiping his eyes. "I feel like… such a helpless idiot.*
"Leave it to me," William said, gripping Brad's knee with his hand. "I'll take care of everything. I'll talk to Detective On. He'll probably want to talk to Lisa again. We'll have to talk to her when she wakes up tomorrow. She might not like it, but we'll have to reassure her that the two of you will be safe and we'll catch the people who did this. We're gonna get these bastards, Brad. I'll hunt them down myself if I have to.'
Brad gripped his friend's hand. "Thanks. Thanks a lot. I don't know what I'd do without you."
William offered Brad a smile of encouragement. "I'll take care of everything."
Twenty
The Seagram's Business District in the City of Industry comprised rows of industrial buildings that circled the perimeter of a large lot in a U shape.'Iwin rows of identical buildings flanked this structure. The majority of the businesses that operated in the thirty or so spaces fell on the industrial side: commercial printers, T-shirt manufacturing plants, auto-body shops, glaziers, electronics shops, computer hardware manufacturers. The office Al Pressman was visiting this evening bore the legend Mark and Sons, Printers, and it was at the end of the lot. He pulled in front of the sliding door of the garage into what would have been the print shop but which had since been turned into a makeshift film studio. Al turned the car off and sat in the front bucket seat, listening as the engine cooled. He hated this fucking car. It was a Pbrsche, and it had a great engine,but he hated it anyway. It was too goddamned tiny. Like driving a roller skate on the highway. When he got his check for the latest job he was going to get a Corvette. He'd always liked 'Vettes. They were not only strong, they were durable and wouldn't crumple if you sneezed on them.
Al sat in the car for a moment. It wasn't every day he got called to Rick Shectman's place of business. He usually dealt with Sam Bash, who gave out the orders for jobs. Most of the time it was routine blood-sport shit. The last job-the one that had turned into quite the gold mine thanks to the Miller woman selling that homeless woman and her baby down the river-had been arranged by Sam. Al had been told to shoot footage that was to include Animal and a woman that Tim Murray brought. That was it, no questions asked. Al had been surprised to see two women at the cabin, but when Tim explained what had happened he'd shrugged it off. Since they had to get rid of the other bitch anyway, might as well film the shit, right? He was paid to operate a camera and catch the right angles and provide the right amount of lighting, then edit the shit down. That was it. And Animal was paid to do what he did best: rape, torture, and then kill people. They didn't care who they did it to, as long as they were paid.
Except this job had been different. Sam Bash had been quite explicit when he told Al that the woman Tim brought was a special job, that there was double money involved in it. Fine. No big deal. So when the bitch mentioned the homeless woman and the baby, of course it attracted their attention. There were plenty of pedo freaks out there who got off on the prepubescent scene, but infants were another league altogether. You just didn't find many of them in the extreme hardcore underground. Al had known of junkies who sometimes sold their babies for crack and the kids usually wound up dead from whatever freak they'd been sold to. Al knew there was a thriving pedophile underground that got off on this shit, and he knew some of them had money falling out of their assholes. He'd seen the dollar signs immediately, so he'd gone to another part of the cabin and made an executive decision. He'd pretended to call Sam with the news, and Tim just about shit his pants when he came back and told him that the Miller bitch was out and the other woman and the baby were in. Later, while Animal was putting Lisa in the van, he'd pulled Tim aside and told him the real deaclass="underline" get Lisa Miller's money, get the homeless woman and the baby, and get back to the cabin pronto. They were still going to do the Miller bitch as planned. That had made Tim feel better, but then the cunt had escaped. Tim had been fucking paranoidhell, Al had been paranoid too and had had to indulge in some blow to cope. He'd just about had a fit when Tim came back sans the Miller bitch, but he eventually calmed down. "We'll get her," he'd told Tim. "Don't worry. They want her, we'll get her, but I think right now they're going to be pretty happy with what we got now"