He drove around for a while, till he spotted what he was looking for. Down around Firth Sterling Ave and Sumner Road he saw a boy, no older than ten or eleven, on a men’s road bike that looked to be in perfect shape and was way too big for him. Lawrence pulled over and leaned out the open window.
“Young!” shouted Lawrence. “Yeah, you. Don’t worry, you not in trouble. I just want to talk to you.”
“What you want?” said the boy, who was pedaling the bike slowly in a tight circle.
“You about to make some money.”
“What kinda money?”
“Kind you spend,” said Lawrence. He killed the engine and stepped out of the car.
Flynn and Hector carried a roll of Berber out of the warehouse of Top Carpet and Floor Install in Beltsville and loaded it into Hector’s van. Hector was not his usual upbeat self. He had been upset by the killing of Ben and his general air of optimism had been tested. But he was determined to work his way through it. He and the others in Isaac’s crew, in the absence of Ben and Chris, had doubled their load and come through for the company.
Flynn’s chest ached as he pushed the roll into the back of the van. He stood straight and waited for the pain to pass.
“You okay, boss?” said Hector.
“Fine,” said Flynn. “This is going to that Tenleytown job.”
“Tito gonna meet me there,” said Hector, speaking of a new guy from the Dominican.
“Okay. Then you need to come back and pick up that roll for the lady in Tysons.”
“We gonna take care of it. We make it nice.”
“Thank you,” said Flynn, looking Hector straight in the eye. “I appreciate it. I do.”
As Hector drove off, Flynn entered the warehouse, passing the stage where a man spun a large piece of carpet levitated by air, and walked into the office area. Susie, the chubby girl with the fried-perm hairdo, and Katherine were seated behind their desks. Katherine had dark semicircles beneath her eyes. It was obvious she hadn’t slept.
Flynn looked at Katherine and made a head motion toward the door.
“I’ll just be a minute, Suze,” said Katherine, and she got up out of her chair and followed Flynn outside.
They went by a parking area, crossed a narrow road, and stood in the shade of a lone oak.
“You hear from Chris?” said Flynn.
“No.”
“We haven’t, either. I’m in touch with Ali, and of course Amanda is sitting by the phone at home.” Flynn touched Katherine’s arm. “I don’t want you to worry.”
“It’s like it was when Ben was missing,” said Katherine. “It feels the same way.”
“It’s not gonna be like that,” said Flynn. “Nothing’s going to happen to my son and he’s not going to kill anyone. Chris is tough and he’s got character. This is going to be over with today and it’s going to end right. Between all of us, we’re going to find him. Okay?”
“I want to believe you,” said Katherine.
“I promise you,” said Flynn. Hoping that the sick feeling inside him, the helplessness, was not showing on his face.
Chris saw the Cavalier, parked in the lot where Lawrence had said it would be. Chris put the van in a space alongside the Chevy. Chris had followed Lawrence’s directions to a community park in Colman Manor, but he was in an unfamiliar place and felt lucky to have found the vehicle. Atop the Cavalier were a couple of loose ropes that went inside the barely open windows. Lawrence had lashed something to the roof of the car.
Chris only knew that he was in Prince George’s County, somewhere near the District, having come through a tucked-in community that looked like a country town.
He locked the van, and, per Lawrence’s instructions, found a nearby bike path sided by trees. He walked it for what seemed like a long while. Partway in, he realized he had left his cell back in the Ford, but he had come too far to turn back. Eventually he emerged from the woods and found himself on a wide road along a body of water. There were houses and streets on his left. He idly wondered why Lawrence had not told him to park on those residential blocks, which were much closer to the meeting spot. Across the water he could see a large dock and recreation area, and the famous tan-and-brown Peace Cross, a place his father had spoken of, once home to country, rock, and biker nightlife. Now Chris had a better idea of his location. He was somewhere near Bladensburg Road and the old Route 1.
The bike path continued, veering off the road and down a dip, going under a bridge. There he saw Lawrence in the shadows. A bicycle leaned up against a three-pole rail that separated the path and a drop-off to the water. An old white man, not much larger than a boy, was standing there, too. On the ground nearby were several blankets and a cooler.
Chris walked under the bridge and nodded at Lawrence. The little white man, unshaven, drunk, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, raised his fists over his head and flexed his muscles.
“I’m fifty-five,” said the little man, smiling, showing brown nubs that had once been teeth. “And I’ll do fifty-five push-ups.”
“Leave outta here, old-timer,” said Lawrence, not unkindly.
“This is my house,” said the little man.
Lawrence produced a roll of cash from his pocket and peeled off a twenty. “Go on, man. Get yourself some medicine. When you come back, we’ll be gone.”
The little man happily took the money and walked down the path in the direction of Bladensburg Road.
“Where are we?” said Chris.
“That’s the Anacostia right there,” said Lawrence, nodding at the river. “You know it flowed this far into Maryland?”
“I didn’t.”
“I’m tellin you, you can’t know this city till you get on a bicycle.”
“Where’d you get that one?”
“Bought it off some kid. It was stole, I reckon, so he made out all right.”
Chris shifted his feet. “Why are we meeting here, Lawrence?”
“It’s out the way.”
“Tell me about it. I could have parked right in that neighborhood over there, instead of in that park.”
“And now you gonna have to hike out a distance to get back to your car. Gives me time to put some space between us, what with me and my two wheels.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“ ’Cause you ain’t comin with me, man.”
Chris squinted. “I thought you bought me a gun.”
“I threw that cheap piece off the Douglass. It would have blown up in your face, anyhow. That is, if you had the steel to use it. I just don’t think you do.”
“You’re right,” said Chris. “I wouldn’t have used it. I’m not about to kill anyone.”
“So why are you here?”
“To try and stop you.”
“Try, then.”
Chris reached out to put a brotherly hand on Lawrence’s shoulder. Lawrence slapped Chris’s hand away and smiled.
“Don’t be touchin on me,” said Lawrence.
“There’s got to be another way to solve this.”
“Not for me.”
“Tell me where you’re meeting them. We’ll have them arrested.”
“You know I ain’t gonna do that.”
“We can talk about it, at least.”
“You wanna talk now?” said Lawrence. “What about all that time in the Ridge when you refused to talk to me? When you showed me your back. Callin me Bughouse and shit, when I had a real last name. You think I don’t know what y’all thought of me? All ’a y’all, except Ben. That boy had good in him, man. And I killed him.” Lawrence poked a finger roughly into his own chest. “ I did. This here got nothing to do with you. So go home, White Boy. Leave me to my thing.”
“Listen,” said Chris, taking a step forward.
Lawrence threw a right. It caught Chris square on the jaw, and he lost his balance. He went down on his side to the paved path. He rolled over and got up onto his knees. He had bitten his tongue and he spit out saliva and blood. He stood slowly and unsteadily. The landscape was tilted, and he tried to shake his head and make it straight but could not.
“That’s right,” said Lawrence. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”