Poor Boy Road (Jake Caldwell #1) (18 page)

Halle’s throat burned from screaming, the image of Bub’s bloody stumps sitting at Shane’s feet forever carved in her brain. Her fear from being chased through the woods, kidnapped and locked in some house in the middle of nowhere was nothing compared to the unparalleled terror of Shane’s sadistic brutality. Bub may have been a piece of garbage, but even he didn’t deserve the fate she delivered him. Dear God, forgive her.

She gripped a long, rusty nail in her shaking hand, lodged between her first and middle fingers, under a pillow. Her fingertips were raw and bloody from working the nail up from the floorboard under the bed. If Shane came in and wanted to do anything to her, he’d be in for one hell of a surprise. If she could get it through his eye and into his brain, he’d drop hard like a stone. She had to wait for the right moment, lay still and act like she’d been shocked into a catatonic state. Although acting wouldn’t be too hard given the circumstances.

A knock at the door jolted her awake. Her brain swam as it clawed itself back from sleep. How long had she been out? Through her window, the eastern sun floated in the distance, maybe ten in the morning. She focused on the golden knob rotating slowly and ran her raw thumb over the base of the nail, pushing it against her fingers and locking it in place.

“Halle?” Willie asked, poking his head through the door opening, his tone quiet and innocent. Was he afraid to come in? He slinked through the door and crossed the room, squatting at the side of the bed. She focused on the wall as if he weren’t there, looking through him.

“Halle?” he repeated. “You in there? Listen, I know that was crazy with Bub. I know it’s a lot to take in and it don’t look like you’re doing it too well.”

A lot to take in? Was he freaking serious? Bub…in half…her fault. She squeezed the image from her head, her fear turning to anger when the bloody mess wouldn’t go away, tightening her grip on the nail. Willie dropped his forehead on the side of the bed. She could use the nail. He wasn’t looking, but her hand trembled, wanting nothing more than to let the spike of metal go. If she used it, was she any better than Shane?

“Do you believe in God, Willie?”

Willie jerked his head up as if surprised she spoke. “Why?”

“Do you?”

Willie leaned forward on the bed, searching the quilted pattern for an answer. “I’d like to think there is a God. That he created the Earth and there’s a hell for those who deserve it.”

“Does Shane deserve it?”

He glanced sideways at her. “I’m not gonna answer that.”

“Do you deserve it?”

“I don’t know,” he said after a beat. “I always worry that what I’m doing is gonna condemn me, but I don’t know what the hell else to do. I’m trapped here, same as you.”

Halle reached out and rested her hand on his. “I wonder if I deserve it. I don’t want to die, Willie.”

“I got an idea,” Willie said, placing his other hand on hers. “I got an idea but I can’t do it with you like this. I think I can get us both out of this alive, but I need your help.”

Help her? It seemed impossible. To get past Shane and the monster of a bodyguard would be miracle enough. But then there would be the creepy guy from the patio and at least three other people carrying big guns. Who knew how many others there were. She could stab Willie through those stupid brown eyes and try to escape on her own but she wouldn’t make it to the front door. Willie was her only possible ticket out of here. She had no choice but to trust him.

Halle pushed herself up on to one elbow. “What’s your idea?”

It neared eleven in the morning when Jake turned into Maggie’s driveway. He fought off Stony’s skeletal image with a single hot tear leaking out of those clenched eyes. He pulled in behind Bear’s truck and stepped out.

Bear and Maggie talked on her front porch. Bear held a glass of tea in one hand and Maggie’s hand in the other. Her red, puffy eyes found Jake as he climbed the front steps.

“Any word?” Jake asked.

“No. You go see your dad?” she asked. Jake nodded and offered a tight-lipped smile. Only Maggie, with her daughter missing, would have the kindness of heart to ask.

Jake handed her the keys to her car. “I took Janey and we went together. Now you’re not stranded.”

She stood. “I’m going to make a few more calls to Halle’s friends. See if they’ve heard anything.”

Jake took her hand as she passed and kissed her on her cheek. She returned the kiss and disappeared into the house.

“She’s holding together better than I would,” Bear said.

“She’s strong. Stronger than me. Maybe her daughter has the same steel in her.”

“She does. Everything okay with Stony?”

“Stony’s dying. The sooner the better.” Jake climbed on the porch and dropped into a rocker. “Get anything from the guy at the jail?”

“You mean the guy who slammed a shiv into Howie’s skull? Nah. He aint’ sayin’ anything.”

Bear set his glass on the wicker table between them and leaned forward.

“Who is he?” Jake asked.

“Don’t know. Nobody in my office recognizes him. Can’t run fingerprints on him because the scumbag burned them off somewhere in his miserable existence. I shot his picture around to some folks in Kansas City and St. Louis. They’re going to check around and see if anybody knows him. He’s tied to Shane, I know it.”

“How?”

“Guy pulled into town last night and did donuts in the middle of Main Street. Had a bag of weed sitting on the dashboard and gave up without a fight. He wanted to get in the jail cell with Howie.”

“How soon after the lawyer left did this guy show up?”

“Thirty minutes, maybe,” Bear said. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yup. Old Shane got nervous. How’d he get the shiv into the cell?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Could be half a dozen guys. Somebody in my crew is playing both sides of the fence. No doubt about it.”

“Any idea who?” Jake asked. Bear shook his head. “Get anything from the house?”

“It was Royce Weather’s place,” Bear said. “Royce died and his wife left town a couple of years ago. My guys scoured the house and the woods around it. Verified somebody did a cook there recently. Pretty clean considering the usual shit we find. We’re checking for prints. Didn’t find anything in the woods other than Halle’s iPod and the Devil Ice. The one lead we had tying this to Langston was Howie and he’s stuck on a slab in the morgue.”

“We can still use him as a lead,” Jake said.

“Ayuh. Howie was in Willie Banks’ crew. We’re trying to find Willie, his brother and Bub Sievers. My guys are checking the usual places, but haven’t found anything yet.”

“Wish I could do something.”

“You can,” Bear said. “Come with me over to Willie’s trailer. We’ll toss it and see what we can come up with. The little taint jockey is tied up in this thing somehow. If we can link him to the cook house, we can link him to Halle.”

Jake didn’t want to ask the question, like it would be some kind of bad luck. But he needed Bear’s opinion.

“Think she’s still alive?”

Bear pressed his lips together. He peered through the front door at Maggie sitting on the couch with the phone pressed to her ear.

“I sure as hell hope so, partner. I sure as hell hope so. I got a bad feeling we’re running out of time.”

Keats’ deadline loomed. If Bear only knew how short time really was.

                                                        #

Willie paced the floor of the den, smoking and thinking. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. The image of Shane beating on Bub while Antonio and some other mountain man held Bub down stuck in his brain, playing an unwelcome loop. Shane bombarded Bub with questions about his plans on skipping town, each question drawing another face strike whether Bub answered it or not. How the hell had Shane found out about that? Was his truck bugged? After twenty minutes, Bub’s face held the consistency of raw hamburger, and he dipped in and out of consciousness.

The barrage of vicious swings should’ve worn Shane down, but with each punch he grew more agitated and ferocious. The last ripped Bub’s three hundred pounds from the captor’s hold and he crashed to the floor, his head bouncing off the hardwood.

“Fucking run on me, will you?” Shane screamed, lashing out a boot and cracking Bub in the side of the head. Shane’s once slicked-back hair flapped over his brow, his eyes wide and mad. “I’ll show you what happens to pieces of shit who run from me. Steal from me.”

Shane scanned the room but couldn’t seem to locate what he wanted. His eyes settled on Willie for a minute, but Willie turned away quickly. He wanted to get the hell out of there, but there was no telling what Shane would do if he ran. He forced himself to stay anchored to the wall, pressing into the paint. Shane locked in on something past Willie on the patio outside. He walked through the door and came back in moments later with an ax in hand.

“No,” Bub groaned from the floor. His beaten eyes swollen to mere slits, but wide enough to grasp what was about to happen.

“Gag and drag this asshole outside.” Shane removed his shirt and threw it on the couch. His bodyguards stuffed a rag in Bub’s mouth and grabbed his arms, dragging him across the floor. Shane followed, his lean, ripped frame holding the ax like a Samurai warrior. Willie stayed at the wall, afraid to move. With each thunk, Willie’s knees gave way a little at a time and he slid down the paneled wall. Bub’s muffled screams forced their way through Willie’s hands covering his ears. By the time the horror stopped, Willie sat on the floor, heart pounding and sick to his stomach.

Thirty minutes later, he paced, waiting for Shane to come back, his plan with Halle rolling through his head. It was a long shot and worthless if he was the next one to get the ax. As Willie crushed his cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table, Shane returned, freshly showered and wearing a new set of jeans with his patented, tight gray T-shirt. He must have a dozen of those things. He crossed the room and poured a drink from the crystal carafe on the bar. Shane’s cell rang while he poured.

“Yeah,” Shane said, setting the bottle down, brow furrowed. “Who is it? What did he want? You get a plate? Okay, make the call and track it down. Call me when you find out.” He hung up the phone and tossed it on the bar. “Want a drink, Willie?” This time Willie didn’t refuse. Shane poured and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” Willie took the glass, gripping it tight so his trembling hands didn’t drop it. He sat on the couch and gulped the amber liquid, which burned all the way to his stomach.

“You see anyone poking around town asking about me?” Shane asked. Willie’s cheeks tightened. Bub’s bloody corpse made him worried about his omission to Shane about the stranger beating Bub and the Sterretts, and he shook his head.

Shane took a chair on the other side of the coffee table. “Sorry about that back there with Bub. Had to be done.”

“Did it?” Willie asked, focusing on the ashtray on the table rather than face Shane’s gaze. Bub may have been a dirtball, but he was Willie’s friend all the same. In any case, no man should have to die that way. It was fucking medieval.

“I won’t tolerate desertion or theft, Willie. Little Halle in there told me what Bub said and you confirmed it. I figure it had to be Bub who stole the money from the warehouse. Hell, even if he didn’t, it was a matter of time before he did something stupid and exposed everything you and I have worked hard to build. The message had to be sent. You think anyone in my organization will dare question me after that?”

“No, sir,” Willie said. Not if they like their legs attached. He sipped the Scotch, face scrunching as it worked its way down. “You could’ve just shot him, though.”

Shane laughed. He took a swig of his drink. “You scared of me, Willie?”

“Most definitely,” Willie replied, bobbing his head like a rooster. A little wood carving of a deer sat on the table. He pictured the deer in the woods with its legs chopped off, Shane bare-chested and holding a blood-dripping ax.

“You worried I’m going to hurt you?”

“A little.”

“Don’t. You’ve been straight with me and I know you’d never betray me. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to promote you.”

Willie’s eyes narrowed in confusion. What the hell? From worried Shane would take him out next to a light at the end of the tunnel. Where the light led remained to be seen.

“I want to expand your territory,” Shane said. “I’ve got a new product line I’m delving into. Easier to make, more profitable, and nowhere near as high on the radar of local law enforcement as meth.”

Shit. A new product line? So much for making a big score and fading into the sunset. Then again, something with high profitability and lower risk would still allow him to make his escape in a few years. “What is it?”

“Cannibinoids,” Shane said.

“What the hell is that?”

“You hear of K2, Spice, synthetic marijuana?”

“Yeah, never tried it though.”

“Don’t,” Shane said. “There’s a reason they label the packages ‘not for human consumption.’ Doesn’t mean we can’t make a profit off it because there’s plenty of idiots out there wanting to get high on the stuff.”

“Why mess with dope?”

“It’s not dope. You basically get the chemical, spray it on some natural herbs, bag it up in a colorful package which draws the kids’ attention and bingo. Costs nothing to make and you sell it for ten bucks a gram.”

Colorful packages selling for cheap that gets kids high? He had his doubts. “And the cops don’t track it?”

“Oh, they’re after it. The reason we’re even talking about it is because of a big bust in Kansas City in October. Cops seized over twenty-four thousand packets of the stuff and a hundred grand in cash. Teddy Garrett got pinched and that leaves an opening for yours truly. Keats is bucking for the territory, but I’m going to wedge my way in before he gets the chance.”

“How do I fit in?” Willie asked.

“I like you, Willie. You know how to maintain a low profile and you don’t make stupid mistakes. I’m expanding into Kansas City and St. Louis with this. I’ve been in contact with some suppliers and I’ve got the lowdown on the distribution. You help me expand the web in Kansas City, hit both sides of the state line. We both make a shitload of money. You up for it?”

A change of scenery would be welcome. Get the hell out of Warsaw and Benton County. If he could save enough money over the next few years, he could get out of this violent world and do something legitimate, maybe open a bar or a liquor store. Still, there were loose ends.

“What about Howie and Bennett?”

“Howie’s done. That leaves one of your crew, assuming Bennett isn’t going to cause me any trouble about his brother.”

He was afraid to ask what "done" meant after what Shane did to Bub. “You can’t get Howie out of this?”

“He’s dead, Willie. Got shanked in the eye in the jailhouse this morning.”

Willie closed his eyes, trying not to react. He liked Howie and Shane just killed him. Two of his crew wiped out in one day. Play it cool, man. Never let ‘em see you sweat.

“Bennett ain’t gonna be happy,” Willie said. “But random violence happens in this business, right?”

Shane winked. “You’re going to need some additional help. I have a couple of guys I can move over from Sedalia while you’re setting up in Kansas City. Bennett can handle the business here. Cool?”

Time to address the elephant in the room. “What about the girl?”

Shane held up his drink and swirled its contents, the light dancing in and out of the liquid.

“I’m not a monster, Willie. I don’t want to kill a child. But she can’t go home now. She’s seen too much.”

“I’ll take her with me,” Willie said, the perfect opening for his plan.

“She won’t stay. She’ll run to the cops the first chance she gets and you know it.”

Willie fell silent. All the reasons he came up with to plead his case were stupid. He couldn’t think of a logical argument. But maybe he could keep her contained until he made enough in Kansas City to run far, far away. Maybe she would run with him. Until then, he had to convince Shane keeping her alive wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. He had to convince Shane he was tough and couldn’t let him know of his love for Halle.

“I’ve got a plan,” Willie said. “I’ll keep the bitch drugged up and with me. I’ve been waiting to tap her ass for a couple years now. Either she comes to appreciate me or I’ll deal with her.”

Shane drained his drink and set the glass on the table. “Tap that ass all you want, but she isn’t leaving this house. She’s seen everything. She could take us all down and I can’t risk it. Show me you’re committed to the cause, Willie.”