"Will you excuse me?" she said again.?
"Of course."? He looked at his hand as if it was a naughty pet that had gotten away.? He took it back.? "Of course.? If you need anything, please don't hesitate.? I'm always here."
"I know," she said.? "And thank you."
She went upstairs.?
The stairway was gloomy and narrow.? She had never noticed it quite this way before.? The stairs themselves tilted at crazy angles.? It was something from a fun house, something slightly wacky and slightly menacing.?
She reached the door.? Sure enough, the cops had left the door unlocked.? They had taped a sealed Portland Police Department envelope to the door.? She took it down but didn't open it, and went on inside.? Everything was just the same as they had left it.? She walked through the rooms, remembering her life from the day before as if it had taken place a thousand years ago.?
Okay.? It was time to leave the note.? She took two sheets of computer printer paper and wrote identical notes on each one.?
Let's meet for dinner?? 10 p.m.?
Would the cops come back?? Maybe, but they would have no idea what the notes meant.? There were only two other people on earth who would know - Lola or Smoke Dugan.? She could go to the dinner place every night at 10 p.m., forever, she figured, if it took that long.? If the cops saw the notes, they might even get the mistaken impression that all was well here.?
She took one sign and taped it on the door in the stairwell.? Then she came back through the apartment and out onto the deck.? Here were the fire stairs, old wooden steps, firm and strong enough, that snaked down the outside of the building.? She and Lola almost never used these stairs, except to go to the washing machine and dryer in the cellar of the building.? The backyard was a postage stamp, accessible by only a narrow alley from the street.? A high fence and thick hedge blocked the yard from the yard of the building that faced the next street.? They never used the backyard itself.
If ever there was a time to use the backyard, Pamela figured this was it.?
She posted her sign on the door leading into the kitchen.?
Then she left to go see Mr. Dennis Cruz in his hotel room.
?
* * *???
?
Moss drove the big Mercedes away from the airport.?
It felt like home to be back in this car.? It wasn't a work car.? It wasn't some bullshit nondescript sedan the straight world drove.? This was a fucking automobile, and just riding in style made everything seem right again.?
The Mercedes wasn't dirty the way the Taurus was.
Let's keep it that way.
He sank back into the leather seat.? He toyed briefly with the idea of putting on the news, see if they had a description of him.? After a moment, he rejected it out of hand.? Why dwell on an obvious bummer?? If they had his description, he would know soon enough.? There was nowhere to hide, a guy like him, so there was no reason to try.? Drive this bad-ass car, walk into his hotel big and bold, look everybody in the eye, and go to his room.? Order up some room service, take a shower, and change out of these clothes.? Do it all on his time, and in his way.?
If they stormed the room, he figured he'd take a few out with him.?
He drove sedately, and clicked on the radio.? Some classical music came on.? Yeah, he was feeling better.? Sticks was coming, too.? Provided Vito was telling him the truth, and there was no plan to hit him, Moss felt he could swing with Sticks.? He had worked with him before, and he was a sick motherfucker.
He remembered the time Sticks had cut the guy's eyes out.? The thought of it sent a shiver along Moss's spine.? Sticks had held the man's head steady with one hand gripping his hair.? Then he had simply inserted his knife in and behind each eye.
Pop.? Out came one.
Pop.? Out came the other.
The man would have screamed but he was gagged.? He would have struggled but he was bound hand and foot.? Sticks displayed a bloody eye in the palm of each hand.? To Moss, they looked gigantic.
"Lookee there, Moss.? They came right on out just like I said they would."
Then he dropped them on the floor and crushed them with his foot.
Sticks coming meant that the debate team bullshit was over.? Sticks coming meant there was going to be pain.?
Sticks.? Holy shit, was there a worse one out there than Sticks?? For a split second - and the feeling came and went almost before he was consciously aware of it - Moss imagined what it might be like to be on the receiving end of a service visit from Sticks.? He shuddered.? Moss needed to keep his eyes open from here on in.? He needed to keep Sticks and his team at arm length.?
"I ride alone," Moss said, trying it out.? Sure, it sounded right.? "Hey Sticks, son, I ride alone, you know what I'm saying?"
Moss drove to his hotel with a smile on his face.? He pulled into the parking area.? The kid came out for the car.? Sure, big and bold.? Let the kid park the car, and tip him good.? Give the geek a thrill.
Parking cars.? Moss smiled and shook his head at the thought of it.?
He climbed out of the car and towered over the kid.? He gave the skinny geek the keys with a twenty dollar bill.? The kid smiled.? "Thank you, sir."
That's right.? Sir.? Should have said "sire."
Moss paced through the lobby to the elevators.?
A little food.? A shower and change of clothes.? Some coffee and maybe a couple of drinks from the wet bar in his room.? Then, if he was feeling motivated, maybe scoot up to Lola's place and scope the place out a bit before Sticks and them got here.???
His mind roamed back to how he blew away that fat bastard in the parking lot just a couple hours before.? Inside the elevators, in the gleam of the polished chrome, he caught himself smiling a big, goofy grin.
"Yessir, it's been a hell of a day."
?
* * *
?
Pamela stood in front of the door to Room 238.
It was a nice hotel.
It was a really nice hotel.? She hadn't noticed how nice it was last night, what with the way they had come in, Cruz holding the gun on her.
She found that she was shaking just slightly.? Why should she be nervous?? Just stopping in to see Cruz in his hotel room.? That was all.? She reached toward the door with her fist as if to knock, but then hesitated.? What was she doing?? She should run as fast and as far away from here as she could.? This was nuts.?
She pulled her hand back.? She raised it again.?
The door opened.? Cruz stood there, wearing the clothes he had bought.? "Geek clothes," he had called them, but they fit him well and looked good on him.? She saw him as if for the first time.? He had a thin, sleek body, more like a triathlete than a body builder.? His hair, after a shower, was combed back from his forehead.? The scar ran down his right cheek, thick and long.? He had been cut there, she realized, and wondered why she hadn't thought of that before.? A knife had entered his face and cut through four inches of it.? What had that felt like??
His arms were at his sides.? His hands were small, and the backs were covered with dark hair.? She thought of Smoke Dugan's hands doing the dishes in their apartment in earlier times.? Smoke's hands were huge compared to Cruz's hands.?
Cruz's work was different from Smoke's.
His eyes were deep and intense, watching her.? Murderer's eyes.? The intensity of them took her breath away.? There was a fire in there, an inferno.? This man had seen things, had felt things that most men never had.? She almost looked at her shoes, but didn't.? She held his gaze instead.
He smiled, but his eyes never changed.? "I was wondering if you were going to knock or what," he said.?
"I was about to."
The smile widened, still not reaching the eyes.? He shrugged and moved away from the door to let her pass.? "Well, come on in then."
She passed him.? He held a glass in his hand.? There was a thick yellow liquid in there with two ice cubes.
"What do you have there?" she said.
He held up
the glass.? "This?? Oh, nothing.? Doctor's orders.? A drink.? Scotch and ice.? You know, trying to take the edge off a little."
"I didn't know you took the edge off."
"Once in a while, I do."? He seemed to shake a thought away.? "Can I make you one?"?
"What else do you have?"
He gestured at the little wet bar.? "Anything, really.? How about a gin and tonic?? Vodka tonic?? A beer?? Wine?? It's all in there."
"A gin and tonic sounds pretty good right about now."
He opened the little bar and began to take out the ingredients.? He seemed distracted, not at all himself.? Pamela stood for a moment and watched him, then she came to a decision.? She was the new Pamela.? She was the bold Pamela.? Pam?? No one ever called her Pam, mostly because she preferred the more formal Pamela.? Maybe she was Pam now?? Maybe Pam was the adventurer.
She stepped up to Cruz and got close.? He turned to face her, his drink in his hand.? He was just a few inches taller than she was.? That was fine.? That was perfect.? They were face to face.? His face showed alarm, everywhere but the eyes.? She took the drink from his hand and placed it on top of the bar.? He watched it go.
"Why don't we save the drinks for later?" she said.?
"Okay.? What would you rather do?"
Her lips rose to meet his.? They hesitated for a moment, the two of them, and she thought: He's shy like me.? He's shy around girls.
Then they met again, and the kiss was deeper, longer.?
"That was nice," she said.
He watched her.? They met again.? She closed her eyes.? This was the longest and deepest yet.? They pressed close.?
"Thanks for saving my life," she said, her mouth against his.
"Thanks for being there to be saved."
She opened her eyes.? She saw him and they both laughed.?
And tumbled toward the bed.?
?
* * *
?
Moss drove the black Mercedes right up to the apartment house.? He pulled into an open space just across the street.? It wasn't a work car - he felt a twinge of regret about burning it like this, but fuck it.? He was in too good a mood to go creeping around.?
He imagined Cruz out there - somewhere nearby, for sure - hiding like a rat in a hole.? He had probably ditched the Taurus in favor of a goddamned Yugo or some shit.???
Moss himself felt like new.? He had eaten - two cheese steak sandwiches and fries, with a beer and a tiny two-shot bottle of Jack Daniel's from the wet bar.? He had knocked back three cups of black coffee and a palmful of Advil.? He figured he didn't need to eat again until tomorrow.?
He had his long black Diesel leather jacket on.? It was a beast, weathered and beaten half to death in all the right places.? He had reflector sunglasses on against the bright glare of the day.? His hair was pulled into a tight ponytail.? He fancied he looked every ounce the killer.? Indeed.? He looked like a modern grim reaper.
And well he should.? Back at the hotel room, he had re-upped the weapons he had spent and then some.? He was strapped with two guns and another knife taped to his calf.? He had handcuffs and brass knuckles.? He was ready for the show.??
He strolled - and that was the right word for it: strolled - across the street toward the building.? From here, it looked like it was huddled against him.? It should huddle.? He felt bigger than that fucking building.?
As he approached, the door to the first floor apartment opened.?
An old man poked out, old beak nose way out ahead of his face like a dog off its leash, fine white hair brushed back in a swoop.
Moss fished inside his jacket for the badge.?
"Hello there," the old man said.? He spoke in a mild tone.?
Moss flashed the badge.? No sense getting bogged down with this dink.? He gave the old man the government-issue impassive face.? "Federal officer.? Official business."
"Oh, I thought you were the police coming here again.? That's what made me wonder about that car. ?The police don't usually drive a car like that.? Why is the federal government involved in this case?"?
Moss shrugged, a gesture that said nothing.? It was none of this old man's business if the Feds were in on this or not.? All the same, he felt that twinge about the car again.? Burned it.? The minute he went upstairs, this old geek would run outside and jot down the license plate.
"In any case," the old man went on, "you just missed her."
Moss put the badge away.? "Who did I miss?"
"Pamela Gray, one of the young women who lives upstairs.? She stopped in here for a few moments, then left again.? This happened not a half-hour ago."
"She was here, eh?"
"That's what I said."
"Well, I guess I'll go upstairs and have a look around.? Thanks for the information.? Do you have a key to this outside door?"
The old man hesitated.? He hovered there, halfway in his door and halfway out.? Moss loomed over him, put the old man entirely in his shadow, then took off the reflector shades.? He looked hard at the old man, and the old man came outside and juggled some keys out of his pocket.? "I have an arrangement with the landlord," he said, by way of explaining why he had the key to the door.? "I keep an eye on the place, sort of like a property manager."? He opened the door and stepped aside.? "What branch of the government did you say you worked for?"
"I didn't say.? But I'm not here to hide anything.? I work for the DEA - the Drug Enforcement Agency."? Let the old man chew on that one for a while.?
Moss climbed the stairs quickly.? The door to the apartment was still unlocked - hell, the lock was probably fucked by their tumultuous entry the night before.? Surprised that old bird downstairs hadn't been snooping around for that one.
But something had changed.? There was a sign on the door now: Let's meet for dinner?? 10 p.m.??
That hadn't been there before.? He toyed briefly with tearing it down, then left it there.? It was a message from Pamela to the others.? Okay, better that the message gets sent than doesn't get sent, as long as we're here to intercept the recipients.
Moss went inside.? He roamed the apartment for a few moments, grid searching it for other clues.? There was nothing.? In fact, the place was just about the same as it had been the night before.
Moss was mindful of the old man.? That old boy wouldn't be able to sit still down there for too long without calling somebody.
Moss went out on the deck to catch a view of the bay from across the way.? It was almost like the two buildings back there had been built with the idea of not obstructing this view.? Okay, it was a somewhat distant water view, but decent enough.? Not like his, of course.? He had the real deal.? But still, it was okay.? He imagined they sat out here and ate their meals in warm weather.
He glanced around the deck.
There was a sign on the door to the inside.
Let's meet for dinner?? 10 p.m.?
Facing outside.? As if somebody might come in this way.? He turned around and looked at the deck again.? Sure enough, there was a set of stairs leading down from here.? You wouldn't see them unless you were looking for them.? In fact, you had to open a gate to get to them, and the gate looked like a continuation of the railing.? He stood at the top of the stairs and watched them wind their rickety way down to the overgrown backyard.? He squinted down.? There was an overgrown hedge back there, and a small chain link fence buried in the hedge.?
A man could come from the street over there, walk between those two buildings, then climb this fence and at the same time force his way through that hedge.? Somebody fit.? Not Smoke Dugan, for sure.? The fuck could hardly walk.
Lola could do it.
So the message was for Lola.
Pamela figured Lola might come up these back stairs.?
Okay.? Now we were getting somewhere.
Moss went back into the apartment, crossed through and went down the stairs.? When he came onto the street, the old man was not around.? Moss jumped in the Mercedes and headed back to the hotel.? It was a nice day, with a
stiff breeze, and as he drove down the steep hill on Congress Street, clouds skidded across bright blue skies above the office towers downtown.?
It was a nice city.? He could almost see why Dugan had stopped running here.
Back at the hotel, the kid hopped to it when he saw the Mercedes pull up.? Moss gave him the keys and another five bucks.? It was a gold rush day for the geek.
"I'm gonna need it again in a little while."
"Yes sir," the kid said.?
He got back into the room, and had barely fixed himself a whiskey and ice, and settled into a chair facing the door when the knock came.? He sipped his drink.? Calm.? Roland Moss, if anything, was ice cold.? He had his round glass in his left hand, and his big right hand rested on his knee, gripping his gun, a round chambered and ready to go.
The knock came again.
If they wanted to get him, they wouldn't knock.
"It's open."
The door swung wide and three men stepped into the room.? The first of the three was about average height, but thin almost to the point of pain.? His body looked like a razor.? His face looked like a weasel's face.? He wore black leather - not a trench - and jeans.? He hunched his shoulders when he walked.? Like a fake tough guy, like a skinny guy who was trying too hard.???
Only this guy wasn't trying at all.
Moss thought of the man with the eyes again.? Or, should he say, the man without the eyes?? And this guy had done it to him, smiling - not quite laughing - and humming to himself all the while.?
This guy was Sticks, and Sticks was a maniac.?
Sticks looked at Moss.? He looked at the gun on Moss's knee.?
A short burst of air escaped his mouth.? It might have been the beginning of a laugh, were it someone else.? He sucked his teeth for a moment.
"What's the matter, Moss?? Your friends come in, you don't look happy to see us."
"I'm always happy to see you, Sticks."
"Then how come you don't offer me a drink?"
?
* * *
?
Cruz and Pamela walked hand in hand along a long, curving crescent of sand beach in Cape Elizabeth, about ten miles outside of the city.? The waves made small, one foot crests and crashed to shore, the sound of the crashing all out of proportion to the size of the waves.? In the distance was a small cove where fishing boats bobbed.? About a half mile out to sea was a large island.? Even from here, Cruz could make out what looked like tall grasses, waving in the breeze.?