Cut and Run (18 page)

Bucks watched the tall, ugly punk on the bed. The man’s eyes were closed, and he was tied down with sailboat rope Frank stored
in the garage. Tasha had draped a cold washcloth across his bruised face, but the man hadn’t stirred.

From the upstairs window Bucks watched Frank Polo and Tasha Strong in the driveway. The damaged Mercedes was tucked into the
garage; still driveable, at least enough to limp into the driveway and then behind the closed doors. The bullet Gary had put
through the Mercedes’ back windshield couldn’t be seen. A police car had arrived minutes after Tasha and Bucks got the punk
and Gary into the house, and the Mercedes into the garage. Frank stood out in the driveway and he had chatted with the cops,
explaining another car crunched into his friend’s Honda then veered into their yard before taking off. He had no idea why
a neighbor would have reported shots fired. The sound of the accident perhaps? Or kids running around in the winter sunshine
with BB guns? Youngsters in the park last week shot grackles out of the oaks. Frank, with a smile, asked the officers if they
heard his songs on the oldies stations, and would they like an autograph for their wives? The police had asked their questions
of him and Tasha; she said she owned the Honda, didn’t see the other car hit it. The police left. Tasha swept up the broken
glass in the street.

Frank could be awesomely cool when he had to be.

‘How’s the guy I hit?’ a gravelly voice behind Bucks said. The punk – he had said last night at the club his name was Leonard
– had one eye open. ‘Did I kill him?’

‘You’re shot, buddy, and you’re wondering if you killed someone?’ Bucks said.

‘I’m shot?’ Leonard seemed surprised. But his eyes were unfocused.

‘Bullets are funny things. He shot at you but it went through the rear windshield and an edge of the headrest and hit you
in the back of the head. Broke the skin but it bounced off your skull, I think. You pulled up hard into our yard, I leaned
in and belted you twice with the butt of my gun. Your head must be made of granite, partner.’

‘I’m shot,’ the man said. He rubbed at the back of his head, as though he expected a bullet fragment to be protruding like
a bump. ‘Gonna be a long wait for the second bullet.’

Bucks sat down by him. ‘Why should I want to kill you, partner?’

‘I’ve messed up your plans,’ Leonard said.

‘But I’m highly adaptable,’ Bucks said. ‘You need to be adaptable, too. So answer a few questions for me, and I don’t stick
my gun in your pants and shoot your dick off.’ He tossed Gooch’s wallet on the bed. ‘Who are you, Mr O’Connor, and why do
you have such a grudge against me?’

‘You’re nothing to me,’ Gooch said.

‘What’s the real name? I’m thinking it’s not O’Connor.’

‘Guchinski. My friends call me Gooch. You can call me sir. Mr Vasco’s not gonna be happy about—’

‘Drop it. You’re not from Detroit. Or from Joe Vasco. I made a couple of calls this morning. No one there ever heard of you.’

Gooch closed his eyes for a moment, shrugged. ‘That’s correct.’

‘So who are you and what do you want with Eve?’

Silence.

‘See, Gooch, I don’t think you were her partners and she double-crossed you. I heard you were all cozy last night at the Pie
Shack. So why were you looking for her last night?’

‘She’s the long-lost mother of my friend.’

‘Don’t give me lines.’ Bucks stood. ‘Where is Eve and your buddy? Mosley, is that his name?’

‘I don’t know where they’re at now. They’re moving. Don’t want to get caught.’

‘Gooch,’ Bucks said. ‘Consider your situation. You should have a goal. To continue breathing in the next five minutes. Do
what you need to accomplish that goal.’

‘They wanted Eve’s car, I said I’d get it for them,’ Gooch said.

‘Where’s the five million?’

‘In my wallet.’

‘Seriously.’ Bucks sat back down again.

‘It’s just you and me here,’ Gooch said. ‘So bag the act. You’ve got the money and you’re blaming Eve. It’s a smart move.
You’ve played well off the situation. I’d applaud if I could.’

‘I don’t have the money, asswipe.’ Bucks grabbed Gooch by his shirt, shook him hard. ‘I don’t have the goddamned money!’ He
forced his voice to calm, forced his breathing to go steady.

‘I think you do—’

Bucks hoisted Gooch’s head up by the hair, whispered hard in his ear. ‘I don’t have it and I never did, you idiot asshole.
Eve has it. If she says I’ve got it, she’s lying, she’s playing you for a fool.’ He let go of Gooch’s hair, stalked around
the room. ‘Jesus, I’ve hired three hit men to find her. I’m spending a fortune I don’t have to find this woman. If I had all
that money, I would have left town, dumped it in a Swiss banking account, gotten the hell out of Houston immediately. I wouldn’t
bother with a frame.
I don’t want a job with Paul that bad. You think he’s ever going to give me five million? You think this is my dream job?
I used to be somebody.’ Bucks steadied his voice. The panic he’d been fighting down felt like it might surge, blacken his
heart, short-circuit his brain. ‘I am somebody. I don’t have it, Gooch.’

‘I,’ Gooch said, ‘don’t care.’

‘You better care. Who shot Nicky? You? Your friend?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It will to Paul. I can tell him it wasn’t you. If you help me.’

Gooch said nothing.

‘Y’all have the money. I need the money.’ He got his voice low, put his mouth close to Gooch’s ear. ‘Paul will kill you if
he thinks you can’t help him, okay? But I’ll cut a separate deal with you and your friends. And you get to live.’

Gooch considered. ‘What’s the deal?’

‘We could split the money and I can make sure Paul never bothers any of us again. But I have to have that cash. Listen, Paul
can cut a new deal with his buyers. Just buy half the coke tonight, not the whole shipment. It’s not ideal but it would preserve
the deal, at least for a few more days. And you would still get half the money, and you get to live.’

‘Let’s say you and I cut a deal. What’s to keep Paul from coming in and shooting me at any second? While I’m your captive
I don’t have a single guarantee,’ Gooch said. ‘And even if you get half the money, you just let me go?’

‘You’re right,’ Bucks said. ‘You don’t have a guarantee. Except my word that I’ll keep Paul from killing you because I can’t
afford to have your death sour a deal with Eve and Mosley. But I need you to tell Mosley and Eve to give me half the money.
Or Paul will come at you like
that guy in Detroit he chain-whipped to death. Man, I saw pictures. You don’t want to end like that.’

Gooch said nothing, watched the ceiling. ‘They don’t have the money. They can’t cut the deal you want.’ Gooch closed his eyes.
‘It’s really painful to watch a mind work at such a slow pace.’

‘Painful,’ Bucks said. ‘Friend, you’re gonna learn nine new meanings of the word.’ He patted Gooch’s cheek. ‘If you won’t
deal, you’ll just have to take what comes. I have an idea on how to keep you on the table as a bargaining chip.’ He went to
the top of the stairs. ‘Dr Brewer, come up here, please.’ Chad Channing stressed the importance of keeping all your bases
covered.

Twenty minutes later, Bucks went back downstairs. Tasha Strong was on the phone. She nodded, hung up, and Bucks sat down across
from her. Frank Polo sat at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of red wine, rubbing his face. The blond kid, Gary, was on
the sofa, frowning, while Doc Brewer, who had tended to Frank’s injury last night, returned to his interrupted work of stitching
up a cut on Gary’s head. The muscle assigned to watch the Pie Shack lot, Max, with the spare tire now on his Mustang, was
out in the garage surveying the damage to Eve’s car.

‘That was Paul,’ Tasha said. ‘Wants the guy brought to his house. Easier to keep him hid.’

‘The guy still hasn’t regained consciousness,’ Bucks said. Forced himself not to look over at Doc Brewer. ‘I mean, a head
injury like that, he may be out for a while.’

‘Long while,’ Doc Brewer chimed in.

‘So he can’t give us information yet on Eve.’ Bucks crossed his arms, looked hard at Tasha Strong. ‘Tell me again what happened.’

‘Paul wanted to see if there were any incriminating files
on Eve’s computer. I didn’t think there would be, because she would have taken the whole laptop, but she didn’t.’

‘Why you?’

‘I used to be a Web designer, I’m comfortable with computers,’ Tasha said. ‘He said go check it out, so I did.’

‘Why didn’t he ask me?’ Bucks said.

‘Ask him,’ Tasha said.

‘Sounds like a matter of trust to me.’ Frank sipped at his wine.

‘Shut the hell up,’ Bucks said.

‘So I come inside with the key Paul gave me, and I hear a noise. I go up to check the computer, but before I can do anything,
Mosley surprises me with the gun. And then he starts asking questions. About you, Bucks.’

‘What about me?’

‘Where you live. Where you eat. How often you got muscle with you. Are you even a decent shot. Stuff like that.’ Tasha gave
him a thin smile. ‘They must be planning to come after you. Tit for tat, since you put a hit on them.’

Bucks commanded himself not to flinch. ‘And what did you say?’

‘I told him I didn’t know you well. Didn’t know where you lived, anyplace you hung out other than the Topaz. He fired a shot,
through the window, to scare me. I told him I didn’t know. Then he told me to stay quiet when y’all came in, and he went out
the window.’ She folded her arms.

‘You find anything interesting on Eve’s computer?’ Bucks asked.

‘I didn’t have time to look. I’ll do that now.’ She stood.

‘We’ll take the computer with us when we move Guchinski over to Paul’s house,’ Bucks said. ‘All have a look together.’

‘Whatever,’ Tasha said.

Frank set down his wineglass. ‘If there was anything valuable on the computer, Mosley would have taken it.’

‘Shut up,’ Bucks said again, and Frank laughed against the rim of his wineglass.

‘Mosley might have copied the information instead,’ Tasha said. ‘If I hadn’t caught him, no one would know he was here. And
they’d have information we didn’t know they had.’

‘Major strategic advantage,’ Bucks said.

‘Baby, You’re My Moron,’
Frank sang.

Doc Brewer stood in the kitchen alcove. He was a short, gray little man with a face the color of faded concrete, and his voice
was always soft, as though he preferred to sidle through life unnoticed. ‘Usually I don’t volunteer my opinions,’ he said,
‘but look at the other side of the coin. If he wasn’t here taking something, he was leaving something behind.’ Tapped his
ear.

Everyone shut up. Bucks stood on a chair, inspecting the ornate light fixtures. He looked along the window-panes. He pulled
the phone off the wall, checked its back. He ducked his head under the kitchen table.

‘Well, hello there.’ Bucks reached for the digital voice recorder.

Friday evening, darkness settled over Houston, the sun painting the clouding sky the orange of joy, the gray of sadness. Whit
wanted to drive back to the house on Timber; Eve forbade him and he decided it was a bad idea, an ambush waiting to happen.
Or maybe they’d chased Gooch and he’d had to lose them and was taking his time getting home, ensuring he wasn’t followed back
to Charlie’s house. The news came on; there was no report of a shooting along the quiet of a River Oaks street. No report
of a man matching Gooch’s description turning up dead.

Whit sat with Eve at Charlie’s PC, studying the data on Tasha’s disc.

‘This isn’t exactly a backup of the hard drive, Whit,’ she said.

He leaned down, looked at the spreadsheets before him. Columns of numbers with annotations and footnotes inserted beneath
that made no sense to him.

‘So what is it?’

‘These spreadsheets show operations from the legit Bellini businesses. And then these are the semilegit businesses, like Alvarez
Insurance. We use them to clean the money from the drug deals, by making it look like the funds are coming from legit accounts
from various holding companies. But these files’ – she pointed to an array of spreadsheet icons – ‘I’ve never seen before.’

‘But she was copying from your drive.’

‘You sure she wasn’t copying from this CD onto my hard drive? You were tense. Maybe it was the other way around.’

‘I should have taken the whole laptop,’ he said.

‘Then they’d know someone had been in the house.’

‘They’d know anyway once Tasha talked.’

She shook her head. ‘Honey, you think I kept records so a Fed with a search warrant could walk in, seize a system, and indict
us? No. I switched out hard drives every few weeks and destroyed the old ones. But I kept the files that made the drug money
look legitimate.’

‘So how would Tommy Bellini know if his books balanced?’

‘He and I would review them together before I destroyed the drug files. Of course that stopped after his stroke.’ She glanced
at him. ‘The idea was to park a certain amount of real money in his legit interests. So you go ahead and pay the taxes on
those. The rest went into his pocket, backed by the money-cleaning books. Out of that he paid salaries, expenses, and so on.’

‘And supplies. Like the coke.’

She nodded.

‘Why would Tasha have these other files and want to put them on your laptop?’ he said. ‘Unless she’s part of the frame. She’s
in with Bucks.’

Eve scrolled down through the spreadsheets. ‘This looks more like an extra set of cooked books.’ She began to click open files,
studying them. ‘Hey. These are files for businesses Paul doesn’t own. With lots of money parked in them. Look at these revenue
figures.’

‘So why does a stripper at his club have an additional set of cooked books on a CD? Why?’

Eve frowned. ‘Let’s say Paul gives her the CD, asks her to back up the data on the laptop. Then these are extra files already
on the CD – data he was keeping secret from me. I didn’t think he had operations I didn’t know about but now anything’s possible
with Paul.’

‘Again, why not simply take the laptop? It’s his.’

‘Because he doesn’t want Bucks or Frank to know it’s gone.’

‘Because he suspects Bucks but doesn’t want to tip his hand,’ Whit said. ‘Or Frank’s. You said he embezzled from Paul.’ Whit
leaned over her, watched the screen. ‘Let’s consider another possibility. She has these files on the disc. But did she also
copy these files to the hard drive in return?’

‘Why?’

‘Part of the frame-up on you,’ he said. ‘Bucks could say you were incorrectly cooking the books with this data.’

‘Those files would have a date stamp for when they were placed on the hard drive.’ She clicked the mouse, expanded a view.
‘See. They’re showing as transferred today.’

‘But they could be edited once they were on the machine. Assuming Tasha has the computer know-how, and I’ll bet she does.
Bucks didn’t want Frank around when the files were added. So he asks Tasha to do it when they’re gone.’

‘I prefer simplicity,’ Eve said. ‘She’s in bed with Paul, he wanted to know what was on that system without alerting Bucks
and Frank. He’s a sneaky ass.’

‘She’s sneakier,’ he said. ‘She had that little gun hidden in a cell phone. Have you ever seen that used?’

‘No, but I’ve heard of them. Paul might’ve given it to her.’ She pointed again at the spreadsheet icons. ‘This bothers me.
This data makes the Bellinis look like they’ve got way more income that is being cleaned than they actually do, in lots of
places that don’t exist. I don’t believe Tommy or Paul truly has this money. So what would be the point of putting it on my
computer or tying it to other Bellini financial records?’

‘What would the Feds do if they got this information?’

‘Start auditing each and every company. Start tracing the money trail. Start shutting down operations, making
arrests.’ She pointed at the cooked-book files. This would make them pee in excitement.’

‘Then we have a negotiating point, right? We could put Paul in jail.’

‘And me in jail, Whit.’ She touched the back of his hand. ‘Is that what you want?’

‘I didn’t do the crime,’ Whit said.

‘No, you didn’t. I told you, I go to prison, they’ll still kill me. I have no doubt.’ She stood, walked to the window. ‘There
has to be another way to use this to get Paul to back off on having me whacked.’

Whit said nothing for a few moments. He tried Gooch’s cell phone again, calling on his own cell, not wanting to call on Charlie’s
home number. No answer. ‘This isn’t right,’ he said.

‘We have to assume they got him,’ Eve said. ‘You said he was pulling away but they may have shot him.’

‘In the middle of River Oaks?’

‘He’s not here, is he?’

‘I messed up,’ Whit said.

‘No. Gooch shouldn’t have shown up there. He told me he was coming straight back here. He didn’t stick to the plan, Whit.
It’s not your fault.’

‘He saved me from getting shot, and I left him.’

‘You did what he wanted.’ She touched his face.

‘Where would they take him?’

‘The Bellinis own two houses in River Oaks. The one Frank and I were in, and another, much bigger house on Lazy Lane.’ She
crossed her arms. ‘Lazy Lane’s a street where practically every house has a guard station. Dogs roaming property. Heavy protection.
If they take Gooch there we’ll never get in.’

‘We’re not abandoning him.’

‘Paul owns a house down in Galveston, too, but it’s for sale. I doubt they would head down there.’

‘I can’t risk Gooch’s life. I’m calling the police,’ Whit said.

‘And tell them what?’ Eve asked.

‘Everything,’ he said.

‘Will that help your dad, Whit?’ she asked. ‘You want him to see you in jail before he dies?’

‘Your concern for my dad is a little late,’ Whit said. ‘Like thirty years.’

‘I’m more concerned for you.’

‘And your own hide.’

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘You have me pegged, anyway. What I did to you defines every aspect of me as a person, right?’

‘Yes,’ Whit said. ‘Would anyone ignore abandoning your family in estimating your character?’

‘I suppose not.’ She sat down on the couch. ‘Call them, then. They’ll arrest the both of us. Me for the felonies I’ve committed,
you for the knowledge of them. That’s at least three years in prison, Whit. You already turned your back on law and order,
baby.’

He sat down on the couch, put his face in his hands.

‘Whit? What are you going to do?’ she asked quietly.

His cell phone buzzed. He answered it, praying it was Gooch. ‘Hello?’

‘Whit? It’s Claudia.’

‘Hey,’ he said, his stomach sinking at the sound of her voice.

‘Thank God,’ she said. ‘You’re okay?’

‘Sure,’ he said.

‘I’m in Houston. Did you know about Harry Chyme?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It was on the news. I’m so sorry, Claudia.’

‘Had Harry found your mom, Whit? Tell me.’ A crackle marred Claudia’s voice on the line. ‘Whit? Did you hear me?’

‘No, he hadn’t found her,’ Whit said. Seeing how the
lie tasted in his mouth. ‘I talked with him briefly, he said he thought Eve Michaels was in Houston, but I didn’t hear anything
more from him.’

‘Are you still in Houston?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Where? I want to see you. Now.’

‘This is a bad time, Claudia. Really. I can’t talk right now.’

‘I’m staying at a Hampton Inn near the Galleria. I came to Houston to find you, find out what happened to Harry. And you are
going to tell me what the hell’s going on. When I heard Harry was found dead with a man, and you had gone to Houston … I’ve
been scared to death. I’ve left you messages, why haven’t you called?’

‘I’m sorry, Claudia. I’m sorry. Go back to Port Leo, okay? I’m okay and I’ll talk with you later.’

‘Whit, for God’s sakes, this is me!’

‘You’re one of my best friends, Claudia, and I love you and I don’t want you involved in this. I’m sorry. Go home.’ And he
clicked off the phone.

‘Girlfriend?’ Eve asked.

‘No. Good friend.’

‘I didn’t even ask if you were married. Or had been.’

‘I haven’t been. But I won’t be bringing a girl home to meet you.’

‘You shouldn’t. I would probably scare a nice girl.’

He said nothing.

Eve sat next to him on the couch. ‘They will torture Gooch if they have to, Whit. They’ll blow the fingers off his hand one
by one. Cut off his balls. Cut him so he bleeds to death an inch at a time. Strangle him until he’s nearly dead then give
him the gift of breath back. Then strangle him. Again and again, till he’s begging to die. He’ll tell them where we are. We’ve
got to find a new place to hide.’

They’ll never break Gooch,’ Whit said. ‘If he’s dead and beyond our help, we’re too late. If he’s not, he’ll never turn on
us.’

‘Whit. He’s an incredible person. I can tell that. But these people will break him.’

‘Tell me. Have you seen them hurt people before?’

‘Yes,’ she said after a moment.

‘And did nothing.’

‘Stop judging me, Whitman.’ Her voice was as low as a whisper.

‘If I were judging you, I would be walking out the door. I would never have even tried to find you. Because I did, Harry is
dead. Gooch may be dead. I don’t blame you. I blame me.’

‘Whit …’ Her voice softened.

‘My choices,’ he said. ‘So I got to fix it. I’m calling the cops. But you, take Gooch’s van and go. You’re good at hiding,
they’ll never find you. You leave. I’ll stay to get Gooch.’

‘Absolutely not. I’m not leaving you to face this alone.’

‘You have to, because if I call the cops you’ll be arrested.’

She put her face in her hands, shook her head.

‘And I lose you all over again,’ Whit said. ‘But I can’t let them hurt Gooch.’

She looked up at him. ‘What if there’s another option?’

He got up, walked to the window, let the drape drop down. ‘I don’t know how to beat these people.’

She followed him to the window. Slowly, awkwardly, she hugged him. His arms tensed under hers. She rested her head against
his chest and he let his breath loose.

‘I don’t have a right to hug you, son,’ she said. ‘But pretend I do, okay?’

He stood there in the fading light, his mother holding him and his heart fractured along a thousand fissure lines,
a thousand hurts, a thousand wishes. The house was quiet and he listened to the hush of her breath. Slowly he hugged her
back.

‘I’ll make it all right, son,’ she said.

Her cell phone, tucked in her purse, rang. She broke the hug and went to the purse, dug it out, clicked it on. ‘Yes?’

She listened for a moment, then handed Whit the phone. ‘Bucks. He wants to speak to you.’

‘Hello?’

‘Your friend is made of stern stuff,’ Bucks said. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘Is he alive?’

‘For now.’

‘Prove it to me.’

‘He’s unconscious. Not in good shape.’

‘How do I know you have him?’

‘Hmmm,’ Bucks said. ‘His name is Gooch but his ID says Jim O’Connor.’

Whit closed his eyes ‘I assume you’re not just calling to gloat.’

‘Of course not. I’m calling to discuss Gooch’s future.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘I’ll guarantee Gooch’s safety. You give me half of the five million. You keep the other half.’

‘We don’t have the money,’ Whit said.

‘I think it would hurt poor Gooch’s feelings to know you don’t value his life.’

‘I do. But we don’t have the money,’ Whit said again, but then thinking:
maybe Gooch told them we do to keep them from killing him, so play along to buy time, dumbass. But if Bucks has the money,
this is nothing but a trap
.

He had to choose. Now.

‘There are people hunting you right now, asshole.
People who make me look like an Eagle Scout, okay? This is really your best option. And I’ve got a 9-millimeter aimed right
between Gooch’s eyes at the moment. He’s asleep and he’ll never know what hit him. I suppose that’s a mercy. Oh, wait, I feel
a hand spasm coming on—’

‘Okay,’ Whit said. ‘Okay. I’ll deal.’ Eve stared at him, shook her head.

‘You have until tomorrow at six p.m.,’ Bucks said. I’ll call you back with details. Call the police, the Feds, your friend
dies. In a fashion that won’t be pleasant. And then we’ll come after you and Eve anyway.’

‘Since we’re negotiating,’ Whit said. ‘There’s a little matter of way cool data we have. Computer records about Paul Bellini’s
accounts. The paper trail that leads to fat federal indictments. Release Gooch. Tell Paul to cancel the hit on Eve. Right
away.’

There was silence for a moment, then a soft laugh. ‘I admire the ballsitude, man. Truly. You’re a focused individual. But
I know what was on that computer, and it was crap that doesn’t matter. That laptop’s got nothing. You think I wouldn’t check
her files as soon as Eve went running? Whatever you got, it’s nothing to me. Six o’clock tomorrow, man. I’ll call you back
with details.’ He hung up.

‘Jesus,’ Whit said. ‘Is he a moron?’ He told Eve what had been said.