Running on Empty (36 page)

She fell spinning backwards into the room, an arc of blood spraying from her broken nose, as the dislodged door crashed to the ground.

In the confusion, Joey had jumped onto the back of the couch, as if trying to avoid an imaginary mouse scurrying about the floor. In walked Gorgeous, and two of his associates. Melody sat upright on the floor, whining softly, trying to stem the flow of blood from her nose with her hands.

‘You’re a hard man to track down, Joey, yes indeedy, a tricky customer. Treat you like my own son, then you just up and leave, fly the nest. Don’t call, don’t write, not even a postcard. You hurt my feelings Joey, I’m deeply hurt, you know that’?

‘ Gorgeous, what the fuck’?

‘Now Joey, now you’re stealing my lines. That’s my line, what the fuck, as in, what the fuck happened to you paying back my fifteen hundred? You got fifteen hundred in loose change about that scraggy ass of yours Joey’?

Joey shook his head silently.

‘Nah, didn’t think so. So, where does this leave us? Let me think of how I should put this. Ah yeah, I got it’. Gorgeous produced a large white envelope and two airline tickets from his pocket, handing them to Joey, whose hands trembled slightly as he received them.

‘Further to our previous conversation and as per the terms of our agreed contract, I’m entrusting you with the contents of this here envelope. You are to hand this envelope to an acquaintance, by the name of Mr. Dowling, of the Crawford Import & Distribution Company, in return for which you will receive a package which shall be returned to myself forthwith. On completion of this transaction, all outstanding debts relating to your business with me shall be absolved, and I shall also reimburse you to the tune of two hundred dollars for said services. Now, you couldn’t ask better than that, could you Joey. Unfortunately though, as with any contract, there is the inevitable small print. If you fuck up in any shape or form, you’re dead. If this transaction doesn’t go smoothly, you’re dead. If you’re late, you’re dead. Basically, if I haven’t got my package, delivered by you into my hands within two days, you’re dead’.

‘When’s all this supposed to happen Gorgeous? I mean… I don’t think, I…don’t know if I’m ready for this right now’.

‘Get your shit together Feeney. You’ve a flight for Denver in two hours time. Weasel here’ll be dropping you to the airport, so clean yourself up and get your ass in gear. You transfer from Denver to a Chadron flight, where you’ll be met, and brought to Crawford. You’ll stay there overnight ‘cause you’ll be too late for to catch the last flight out. They must have no fucking lights on them crop dusters they use ‘cause they don’t fly after dark. You’ll be watched in Denver too, so don’t you start growing a brain and getting any bright ideas, or, you know what will happen? Come on Joey boy, help me out here. What will happen if you fuck up in any way whatsoever’?

‘I’ll be,..dead’

‘Now you got it, Joey boy, you’ve nailed it in one’.

‘What about Melody’?

‘Good point, Joey, very chivalrous of you thinking of poor Melody here. You’re right. We can’t leave her all alone to suffer with her injury’.

Gorgeous walked over and squatted down beside her, putting a comforting arm around Melody’s shoulder.

‘Me and the boys’ll take good care of young Melody here, won’t we boys? Yes indeedy, we’ll keep her occupied, for sure. But..’ his arm went from around her shoulder to ensnare her neck, ‘.. should you get waylaid in any shape or form, Melody here’ll suffer like no bitch has suffered before. Just an additional little insurance premium that you be a good boy, Joey. Now, I don’t know how much you care for your girl here, and frankly I don’t give a shit, but having her here is better than not, so she stays’.

‘Joey, don’t leave me…please, not with these animals’.

‘Shut the fuck up, bitch. You’re staying and that’s final. Joey does what he’s told and you live. He doesn’t, and well, you know eh’?

Gorgeous made a gesture of slashing her throat with his thumb.

The only thing that can save both your sorry asses now is me having that package in my hands in two days time. Otherwise you’ll be joining your friend Melody here in the hereafter. You got that’?

Joey nodded, his trembling hands covering his eyes.

‘Now get yourself cleaned up and outta my sight, before I change my mind’.

*****

The three of them sat around the kitchen table.

‘Grainne, I want you to go on the internet, and book two tickets on the next available flight to Denver’ said Pat.

‘Not a fucking hope’.

‘Sorry’?

‘I said, not a fucking hope. I’ll book three tickets, or none. You want two tickets, book them yourself. But if that’s the case, I’ll be booking myself a single’.

‘Now Grainne, be reasonable. This isn’t a holiday we’re going on. It could be, actually I take that back, it will be, dangerous. I’ll have enough on my plate without worrying about you all the while’.

Pat looked over to Tom, pleadingly.

Tom, talk to her, will you? Get her to see reason’.

‘You are joking, right?’ answered Tom. ‘You do realize that she’s a woman, Pat, don’t you. And you want me to reason with her?

Grainne just smiled.

‘Jesus, ok, ok, do what you have to do. Book three flights then if that’s what you want. Christ, what’s the world coming to’?

Grainne, still smiling, began punching keys.

‘You only want flights to Denver’? she asked. ‘You know you can get a regional flight to Chadron, which is only thirty miles from Crawford’.

‘No, Denver is fine’ answered Pat. ‘They may not know me, and they certainly won’t know you’ he continued, ‘but Tom here is a different matter. Chadron only has a couple of flights a day, with a handful of people on each flight, and there’s a distinct possibility he could be spotted. Denver, on the other hand, has dozens, maybe hundreds of flights a day, and there’ll be thousands of people milling around. No, Denver’s the safe bet. We’ll hire a car and drive the remainder. I think it’s only a three or four hour drive to Crawford from there’.

‘There, it’s done’ she said. ‘We depart Shannon on an eight thirty flight tomorrow morning, with a connecting flight from Chicago to Denver at ten am local time. Better get packing boys, we’ll have to drive to Shannon this evening, and don’t forget your passports’.

‘Well Grainne, seeing as how you insist on coming along, you might as well make yourself useful’ said Pat. ‘It might be an idea to pack some of that fancy camera gear you have, just in case. Maybe bring something with a long reach’.

‘I have a 600 f4, what about that’?

‘Whatever’.

They drove to Shannon that evening, staying overnight in a guest house near the airport, so they could arrive in good time to check-in for their early flight. Once airborne, Tom began to have mixed emotions about the trip, and the idea of setting foot on American soil again. He still had his passport in his hand. He opened it, and looked at the image, and the name, Matthew Stephens.
Sounds more like a limpet name than a conger name
, he thought.
I just hope this isn’t one big fuck-up of a mistake, heading back. Just when life seemed to be returning to some form of what most people would regard as normality, here I am flying back into the eye of the storm, and dragging Grainne into it as well. I just hope Pat knows what he’s doing.

He looked across to Pat, seated in the opposite aisle. He sat there, calmness personified, flicking through an in flight magazine as if he were in a barbers waiting his turn for a haircut.

I just hope that crazy uncle of mine isn’t embarking on one battle too many.

The three of them were strolling through Denver airport.

‘Matthew, you wanna stop for a coffee’? asked Grainne.

Tom kept walking.

‘Matthew’? Grainne took his arm, stopping them both.

‘Huh? Oh yeah, Matthew. I forgot. Sorry, what were you saying’?

‘I said, would you like to pull over for a coffee’? she asked again, gesturing towards the coffee dock about fifty yards away.

‘Oh, no I’m good thanks’ he answered, and they resumed walking.

Brad Johnson stood in line, waiting his turn to purchase two coffees at the coffee dock in Denver International airport, while Sally sat at a nearby table. Two people, a man and a woman, were talking in the middle of the concourse about fifty yards away, with an older man standing nearby.

That guys face seems familiar,
thought Brad.
I’ve seen that face before.
He tried to search his brain, looking for a connection. As the threesome walked away, it dawned on him.

That picture Fielding gave me, of Tom Feeney, that guy looks like him.

Nah, it couldn’t be. Tom Feeney’s in Ireland. This is Denver. There’s no way Feeney could be in Denver. It’s just the mind playing tricks. Maybe it’s time to pay a visit to the opticians.

He shrugged his shoulders, and returned to Sally with two coffees a few minutes later, and sat down. He looked preoccupied.

‘What’s up’? asked Sally, ‘you look like you’ve seen a ghost’.

‘Oh nothing. You’ll probably think I’m losing it, but for a moment up at the bar, I thought I spotted Tom Feeney’.

‘What’?

‘Yeah, I know it’s crazy. There was a guy, over on the concourse talking to a girl, with an older guy standing beside them. For a minute I thought it was Tom Feeney, but that’s impossible of course’.

‘Not impossible’ said Sally, ‘difficult, but certainly doable’.

‘Huh’?

‘Where are they now’?

‘Gone into the crowd somewhere. They looked like they were going to come over here for a minute, but in the end they kept on walking. You don’t seriously think it could have been him, do you? But sure how could he possibly be back in the States, what about all the paperwork involved? And even if he did make it back, why on earth would he come to Denver’?

‘With regard to the first part, he got out of the States, and into another country, without having any paperwork, didn’t he? And with regard to the second part, as to why he’s here in Denver, well, we’re here aren’t we? Maybe he’s here for a similar reason’.

‘Do you honestly think I saw Tom Feeney’?

‘No, you’re probably right, you just saw a guy that looked similar, and our imaginations are running away with themselves’ answered Sally, her face still retaining a certain amount of doubt.

Joseph Feeney walked slowly yet erratically through Denver terminal.

He scanned the signs for departures, arrivals, gates and the million other pieces of information airports seem determined to inform you of, whether you needed it or not. He felt sick, his head spinning, his eyes trying to focus, his brain tried to filter the important and the frivolous. Although t was still winter, tiny droplets of perspiration formed on his forehead and upper lip. He could feel the onset of a headache, and knew he was going to suffer more soon. All the while, he was conscious of the possibility that he was being watched, which just made him more paranoid, nervous and unwell.

He stopped outside a coffee dock, adjacent to a middle aged man and a younger woman who sat at a table, a pair of crutches propped up on the seat beside them. He contemplated going in for a coffee, but concluded that something a little stronger was needed, and walked on.

Maybe they’ll have a few freebies for me when I get there,
he thought, warming to the prospect. He found the check-in for Great Lakes Aviation, and joined the queue. Two smartly dressed men stood in front, and snippets of conversation could be heard by Joey through his personal haze.

‘…anyway Carter, it’ll become clearer when we get there…..production and transportation costs….getting the merchandise out in the public arena….’

Fucking businessmen,
thought Joey, his mind beginning to drift on to something else.

Brad stood up from the table.

‘I’m going to head over and rent a car, Sally. You can wait and finish your coffee’.

‘I’ll follow you in a few minutes, I’m nearly done anyway’ she answered.

He headed to the car rental counter, and stood waiting his turn. Another middle aged man already stood there, a very attractive younger woman by his side, as they dealt with the receptionist. Sally finished the last of her coffee, mounted her crutches, and began making her way over. Tom dried his hands in the men’s room, and began striding towards the rental company counter.