I could hear footsteps running through the snow. I sprinted toward the parking lot to follow, but when I got there, she was gone.
53
“Mike, it’s Julian. We gotta go, man. We gotta go.”
“What’s going on?”
“Ah shit,” I said. “Ah shit ah shit ah shit. I might have screwed up.”
I sped through the back roads that led away from Mitchum Trail, thirty miles an hour over the speed limit, going nowhere in particular. My headlights ricocheted off the pine trees that lined the road.
“I ran into one of the crew,” I said. “Adeline, Vince’s girl. Ben’s girl. Whatever. We got to talking and had an argument. She might know what’s going on. There was a gun involved.”
“Jesus,” Raphino said, “you shot her?”
“No, no. We’re both fine. But she just…she ran off and she might be telling Decierdo about it now. Murray. Fuck.”
“Is our cover blown?”
“I don’t know, probably. Yeah.”
“Shit,” he said.
“Yeah. Listen, we gotta go to Plan B.”
“There’s no Plan B. There’s hardly a Plan A.”
“Well, we need to figure one out. I’m driving right now; there isn’t time for me to get all the way to Eagle. Can you meet me between here and there?”
We met in the parking lot of a liquor store off the interstate. The store was closed, the lot empty and dark. I listened to the hum of the freeway as I stood outside my car and waited.
Raphino pulled up in an unmarked car ten minutes after I’d arrived. The door swung open and he looked around.
“Clear?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Okay,” he said, studying the surroundings and getting his bearings. “Do you think they’re coming after you now?”
“Probably not yet. If she actually ran to tell Murray, they’re probably discussing it right now.”
He lit a cigarette. “How much does she know?”
I spoke quickly. “Not that much, but I’m not sure it’ll matter. I asked her about the money disappearing—accused her, really—and she flipped. She doesn’t know about you or anything. But she’s going to tell him something, and they’re going to come after me. I’m sure of it.”
When I stopped, I was out of breath.
“She knows you know something.”
“Pretty much. And she’s to be taken seriously, Mike. She’ll do whatever she needs to get what she wants. There’s evil in that woman.”
Raphino took a drag and nodded.
“I screwed up by talking to her. I screwed up bad. That’s on me.”
“What happened with the gun?”
“We were just talking, and then she…touched me and took it. She just picked it straight from my waistband. Happened so fast. I was able to get it back from her, but she said she was gonna tell Murray, either about our affair or our conversation. Either way he’ll have me dead.”
“Were there shots fired?”
“One. When I grabbed it back we wrestled for a bit. One bullet into the air. No damage.”
He held the cigarette in one hand and rubbed his face with the other.
“Listen man,” I said, “I don’t know what we can do other than get out of here. Like, now.”
Raphino frowned.
“Anything else is too risky,” I said. “Let’s just hop on 70 west and go. Regroup when we get to Denver. I’ll leave my car and we’ll go in yours; they won’t even notice. There’s no tail on us now. You have Korman’s file, right?”
“Yes.” He thought about it. “Denver?”
“Yeah, Denver.”
“And then what?”
“And then? I don’t know—we’ll figure it out when we get there. At least it’ll be safer. Listen, my life’s in danger here. Maybe yours, too.”
He flicked the cigarette and thought. Arms folded, leaning on his car, thinking. “I don’t think that’s gonna work.”
“What? Why? They’ll have no idea.”
“We go to Denver. Maybe we’re safe. Then who’s gonna bust them?”
“We’ll figure that out. State police. Hell, we’ll get the feds involved. Right now I’m more worried about staying alive.” I was becoming increasingly anxious as time drug on. I expected someone to pop out from behind a tree and empty a clip.
He nodded. “See, I’m afraid that doesn’t work for me.”
“What?”
He looked around the night, motioning with his hands. “What does that do, if we leave? Makes us safe, maybe? What does that do for the mountains? What does that do for my home?”
“Jesus, Mike. We’ll get ‘em somehow, alright?”
“We cut and run when there’s trouble, we’re just like everyone. Just like the cops who want cash more than justice. The politicians who turn their backs on it. We leave and hope someone else cleans up the mess? No. That’s what created these problems in the first place. That’s a cowards way out.”
“Mike, we can’t take them on by ourselves.”
“It’s a cowards way,” he said, and turned to look at the highway.
I stood there, incredulous, as he pondered the passing cars. I looked over my shoulder and around the corners of the darkened liquor store. We were still alone.
“We take Decierdo,” Raphino said, his back still to me. “To hell with the rest of them.”
“Murray,” I said.
“We arrest him and head east. We lock him up in Denver. He can’t skate if he’s locked up.”
“You’re not worried about a mole anymore?”
Raphino turned back to face me. “It’s our only option. Bring him in and let them sort it out.”
“He’ll be barricaded up there,” I said. “He’ll be surrounded by his people, especially now.”
Raphino shrugged. “We only need him.”
We stood silent for a good minute, the night air biting my ears and fingers. A gentle breeze moved through the pines. He’d made up his mind.
“I’m no Rambo,” I said.
He was silent for a moment.
“Mountain business is mountain business,” he said. “I have a responsibility.” He put another cigarette between his lips and sparked a lighter. “This is my home. You got a home, Julian? You got a home.”
I exhaled. “Sort of. Give me one of those.”
He pulled a cigarette from the pack and handed it to me. “Sorta? Everyone’s got a home.”
I lit the cigarette with his lighter and inhaled. It tasted filthy, like licking a fireplace. The tobacco made a low crackle as I sucked in, burning orange in the black of night.
“Yeah but I left mine,” I said. “Made a new home. Then left that one too.”
We stood together, watching the freeway. The moon was behind a cloud, darkening the pavement underneath us. I took another drag.
“I’m not police,” I said. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Citizens assist officers all the time,” he said. “It’s no big deal.”
I exhaled.
“You do what you want,” he said. “You can get in your car and head east right now, no hard feelings. If it ain’t your fight, it ain’t your fight. But I’m going up there.”
The wind picked up and I flicked my cigarette, still half unsmoked, and stomped it out. A fleeting tobacco buzz swirled in my brain, not helping the anxiety. I exhaled and watched my breath leave my lungs. There was a lull of cars on the highway. The night was quiet.
54