“The body in the alley.”
“Right, right. What if Bennett also sent the guys to rob me, and told them to kill Crooch? That way it looks like he got burned too. Motherfucker!” Johnny straightened. “He ripped us both off, partner.”
“So Bennett set up the meet as a con. He never intended to give us the merchandise. It might not even exist.”
“Exactly. Exactly.” The man hopeful now, his eyes wide. “Sneaky fuck.”
“Of course, you could be doing the same thing.”
“Huh?”
“For all I know, this Bennett doesn’t exist. Maybe you made him up, staged the robbery, and had Crooch killed in the alley.”
“No, I would never-” He shook his head violently.
“Or maybe Bennett does exist, and you decided to burn us both. Keep the money, keep the goods.”
“No, I swear-”
“See, here’s the thing, Johnny. I don’t care. I really don’t. I just want what I paid for, because I made deals based on your word. And I’m holding you responsible.”
“Wait-”
“So you need to understand something.” Victor took a step, and Johnny followed suit, trembling. “Two more steps, that’s all you’ve got. I will walk you right off the edge of this building. And you will do it, staring me in the eyes the whole time. You will walk yourself right out of life. Because you can imagine what will happen to you if you don’t. Because you believe every word I say.” He took another step, and Johnny did too. “Right?”
“Yes!” The man stood six inches from the edge, hands still cuffed, bent slightly forward as though afraid his balance would betray him. “But I swear to God, I didn’t have anything to do with this. I would have come to you right away-I should have come to you right away. I was just trying to handle it on my own. I’ll get you the stuff, somehow, oh Jesus, I don’t want to, please don’t make me.” There was a sharp tang to the air, and the front of Johnny’s track pants darkened. “I’ll get it for you!”
“How?”
“I’ll find Bennett. If he didn’t fuck me, I’ll find the people that did. I swear, I swear I will. I swear on my mother.”
“Your mother, who lives in that lovely converted bungalow in Jefferson Park?”
The man’s head snapped straight up. His face was nothing but eyes and panic.
“You wanted to be big-league, Johnny. Welcome. We play a rougher game.”
“I will get it for you. I promise.” His voice coming from a ragged place people liked to pretend didn’t exist.
Victor stared him in the face. Lifted his foot, watched Johnny flinch. Then he set it back down and broke into a smile. “OK.” He gestured to his men. They flanked Johnny, one standing ready while the other uncuffed him. The man made a sobbing sound, took a quick stride away from oblivion.
“First,” Victor said, “I want to talk to Bennett. Today. Second. You put the word out to everyone that you were robbed. I don’t care what it does to your reputation. Every pimp, every drug dealer, every bookie. Put money on it. Your own, of course. Someone out there knows something. I want to know it too.”
“Yes. Yes. No problem.” His hands shook as he rubbed at his wrists.
“You can go.”
The man sprinted for the exit. Victor let him almost make it before he said, “Oh, and, Johnny?”
He froze. Victor could see the animal part of the man wanting to continue. Slowly, slowly he turned around. “Yes?”
“From now on, let’s keep the lines of communication open, OK? I find business transactions run much more smoothly that way.”
“Uhh… yeah. Sure. I’ll tell you the moment I hear anything.”
“Good. That’s all.” Victor turned away, walked to the edge of the building. He stood with his toes hanging off, hands clasped behind his back. Chicago spread out in front of him, a wave of tall buildings breaking into a dark froth of two-flats and trees that extended all the way to the rising sun. Clean morning wind teased at his suit jacket. He took a deep breath, tasted the air.
From behind, one of his men said, “You really think he had anything to do with it?”
Victor glanced back, surprised. “Thought never entered my mind.”
CHAPTER 18
WHAT WAS IT with women and their showers?
She had ten kinds of shampoo and conditioner, body lotion in tropical flavors, a couple of things of exfoliant, whatever that was, a washcloth, a loofah, two bright pink razors, and a scrub thing. But bar soap? No.
Mitch settled on coconut-lime body gel. You were probably supposed to put it on the scrub thing first, but that seemed like too presumptuous an intimacy. He grinned at that, considering he’d touched and licked every inch of her last night. Still. He squirted the stuff on his hands, rubbed his armpits, his shoulders, his crotch.
He felt better than good, filled with a sense that everything was going to work out OK. He’d always envied that in other people. Happier, better-looking, richer people. They had a basic belief that the world would line up the way they wanted, and it usually did.
Well, now it was his turn.
Don’t get cocky. You’re not out of trouble yet. Standing under the showerhead, hot water plastering his hair, running down his back, he thought through it again. Checking and rechecking, for the hundredth time.
Best he could tell, once they finished what they had to do today, they’d be clear. As long as they stayed cool and everyone did what they were supposed to, nothing should tie them to last night.
Once things had quieted down, they could tell the others about them. Jenn was nervous, he could understand that; hell, so was he. But now that she had finally seen him, he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it worked out.
Starting with them not getting caught. Best get moving. He reluctantly shut off the water, slid open the shower door, and reached for the towel Jenn had left, a big puffy thing. Where was the best place to abandon a car? A parking lot? Or maybe a rough neighborhood would be better. That made sense. He’d do a little Googling, find out where the most cars where stolen. Then run the Caddy through a detail shop to be sure there weren’t any traces, leave it with the windows open and the keys in the ignition. Even if the police found it first, it wouldn’t be a disaster. They’d just trace it back to the drug dealer-
Holy shit.
How had he missed that?
SHE WAS LEANING ON THE COUNTER, drinking a Diet Coke and thinking about that feeling of impending disaster, wondering what it meant. Were they being stupid even now? Should they go straight to the police and tell them everything? A big part of her wanted to, wanted to confess and get absolution, a detective standing in for a priest.
Absolution? You killed someone last night.
The liquid in her mouth went bitter, and she set the soda down, listened to the hum of the hot-water pipes. Mitch had asked if she minded if he showered, and while yeah, she kind of did, she didn’t know how to say that. It wasn’t that she wanted him gone for good or anything. She just wanted a little time to herself. Time to lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling and think about everything, the money and the alley and the dead man and Mitch and Alex. It was a lot for a girl to process.
“Jenn!”
Even muffled by the walls, she could hear his excitement. She started for the bedroom fast and had no sooner opened the door than they almost collided, him naked and dripping, the towel on his shoulders.
“Whoa.” She glanced down, then back up. Smiled at him. “Hello there.”
He actually blushed as he wrapped the towel around his slim waist. For a second, she had a flash memory of Alex. It was hard not to compare their bodies, muscles and tattoos against pale and somewhat awkward flesh. Not that it was awkward last night.
“What’s up?”
“We forgot, we totally forgot about it. How could we miss it?”
“What?”