Small Crimes (4 page)

'I
would have had no choice, I would've moved on to Plan B. By the way, Joe, when
this is done it might be a good idea for you to get out of Bradley. You might
want to think about moving to Albany and being closer to your two girls.'

My
heart skipped a beat. 'How do you know Elaine's in Albany?' I asked, trying to
keep my voice composed.

'I
know things, Joe. And your ex, she changed her name. My guess, she didn't want
you finding her. Her new name is Elise Mathews.'

'Did
she remarry?'

'I
don't think so, at least she hadn't last I checked.' Any idea how my girls have
been?'

He
made a face as if to say how the fuck would he know that.

We
stood staring at each other for a long moment. Dan finally broke the silence,
telling me I had three days tops. 'Try and finish this mess earlier if you can,
Joe. But get it done. I really don't want to go to Plan B.'

He
offered me his hand and then nodded so long, a big friendly smile playing on
his face. I watched as he turned his pickup truck around and drove off.

As
I drove back to my parents' house I thought about the situation. I was pretty
sure Dan was overreacting to things. The Manny Vassey I knew would just as soon
spit in Phil's face as say a word to him. It didn't seem possible that he could
have changed that much. Still, it was troubling thinking of Manny accepting
daily visits from Phil and sitting still so he could listen to the Bible being
read to him. More likely Manny was playing some con on Phil, maybe just having
fun playing with his head.

I
didn't bother asking Dan about Plan B because I knew what it had to be. Dan was
guessing that if I were to end up dead Phil would lose interest in Manny and
let him and his secrets die in peace. Years ago I hid a tape recorder in my
coat pocket and recorded a conversation Dan and I'd had about a coin shop we
had broken into. The exchange was kind of a heated one in which I pretended to
be unhappy with my cut, and Dan, trying to soothe the situation, went into
great detail about what was taken and how much his fence in upstate New York
was able to get for us. I'd placed that tape and a journal I made of the crimes
we committed together in a safety deposit box and arranged for the contents to
be delivered to Vermont's attorney general on my death. Later I told Dan about
my safety deposit box. He wasn't happy about it, but I could tell he respected
me for it. For him to consider Plan B meant he either thought there was a
chance I was bluffing or maybe that he had a shot of excluding my evidence due
to hearsay. Or it could be that Manny had worse on him than

I
had. He was deluding himself, though. If that tape and journal ever came out
he'd do a hard twenty years.

I
pulled up in front of my parents' house and sat quietly and thought the matter
over. I wasn't going to murder either Phil or Manny. I had already done enough
damage for one lifetime. Instead, I'd visit Manny, figure out what game he was
playing, and then talk sense into Dan.

Chapter 4

I
found my mom in the kitchen preparing dinner. When she saw me she gave me a
nervous, anxious smile and wavered for a moment before coming over to peck me
on the cheek. Like my dad, she seemed to have aged excessively during the last
seven years. She had shrunk somewhat, and her hair, which used to be mostly
blonde with only touches of gray, was now completely white. She stood in front
of me trying to smile, her eyes tiny in her now raisin-like face.

'You
look tired, Joey,' she said, and then she moved back to the stove and her
sauce-stirring.

I
started laughing, I couldn't help it. 'After seven years that's the first thing
you have to say to me?' I asked. 'Oh, and by the way, I missed you, too.'

'Of
course I missed you,' she said, her voice faltering a bit. 'But you do look
tired. Have you been eating enough?'

'I've
been eating fine. Mom, the county jail is only a twenty-minute drive. You and
dad could have visited me once.'

'We
didn't feel comfortable doing that,' she said half under her breath. She started
to say something else, but it died in her throat.

I
watched for a minute as she stirred the sauce, her body tense, her eyes and
mouth rigid. I asked her where Dad was.

'He
wasn't feeling well so he's taking a nap.' She hesitated. 'Let me see if he's
up.'

I
watched as she made a beeline towards their bedroom. She closed the door behind
her. They tried to keep their voices low, but the walls were thin and I could
hear most of what was said.

'Your
son is home. He's in the kitchen right now.'

'Can
you keep your voice down? Joey's going to hear you.'

'The
door's closed. He's not going to hear me. I want you out there with me.'

'I'm
tired. Let me rest for a few more minutes.'

'Oh
no you don't. You come out there with me!'

'Jesus,
Irma, he's your son. He's not going to bite you.'

'I
want you out there with me. You're the one who insisted that he stay here!'

'Alright,
alright.'

I
heard him get off the bed. The door opened and my mom came out first with my
dad tailing behind her. He gave me a weak smile as he passed by and then walked
over to the kitchen sink to fill up a teapot. My mom went back to stirring her
sauce. After a minute of that I told them I was going out.

'You're
not going to join us for dinner?' she asked, actually surprised.

'I
don't think so. I'll be back later.'

'Why
don't you join us? I'm making ziti and meatballs.'

I'd
rather not, especially if the two of you are going to be so damn ashamed of
me.'

'Don't
be like that,' she snapped back at me. 'How do you expect us to feel after what
you did?' My dad looked up from his teapot but didn't say anything.

I
had to get out of there - I could feel my hands trembling. As I turned to leave
I heard her call my name.

'Stay
for dinner,' she said. 'Joey, you shouldn't go out tonight. The town paper
printed a story today about you being released and what happened. They put your
picture on the front page. It would be better if you didn't go into town.'

I
stared at both of them for a long moment, barely able to recognize either of
them. Then I turned and got out of there as fast as I could.

More
than just my hands were trembling by the time I got to my car. I had to take a
dozen or so deep breaths before I could calm myself down. It's funny, but after
all I had lost, I'd hung on to the thought that I wasn't completely isolated.
That I could somehow reestablish my relationship with my parents and use that
as a starting point to rebuild my life. I used to lie on my cot and idealize
the way it would be when I got out. That they'd forgive me in their hearts and
mean it when they said they'd help me get back on my feet. But I had just been
kidding myself. It had never been like that with the two of them, and now they
were nothing but two old people who were willing to let me live in their house
for a few weeks.

The
hell with it.

I
sat in my car for a long moment before I felt I could move. And then I drove to
Zeke's.

Zeke's
Tavern is a few blocks from downtown Bradley. It's been around since the early
nineteen hundreds and is a hangout for cops and locals. A dark cavernous place
that always smelled heavily of cigarettes and stale beer. Inside were a couple
of pool tables, a dartboard, a jukebox, a few beat-up tables, and a long
chipped and stained mahogany bar. Zeke's had a kitchen in the back where they'd
cook up burgers and other standard bar food.

I
spotted Bill Wright and Tony Flauria sitting at the bar. They were joking about
something but stopped when they saw me. I nodded at them and got back only
blank stares in return. I moved to the opposite end of the bar, waved the
bartender over, and ordered a cheeseburger and a pint of a local brewed ale.

About
the time the bartender was placing the pint in front of me, Flauria had gotten
off his bar stool and was heading towards me. Bill Wright looked somewhat
queasy around the eyes as he tagged along. They were both cops. Flauria, as far
as I knew, had always been clean.

Flauria
stopped about a foot from me and gave me the evil eye.

'How
you doing, Tony?' I said.

He
sniffed a couple of times in the air. 'I thought I smelled a pile of shit
coming from over here.'

'I'm
doing great,' I said. 'Thanks for asking.'

Flauria
just stood glaring at me. Then through wire-tight lips, 'You disfigure anyone
lately, you pile of shit?'

'Not
yet, but the night's young.'

'You
dirty piece of shit,' he stated, his beefy face flushed with malice.

'Joe,
what the fuck are you doing here?' Bill Wright asked. 'You should just get the
hell out of Bradley and consider yourself the luckiest fuck alive.'

'Big
words coming from you, Bill. I thought you'd be buying me a beer right now for
keeping my mouth shut all these years.'

'I
don't know what the fuck you're talking about,' he said, but he didn't look too
good, his skin color dropping a shade. Flauria, though, was still simmering
with violence.

'Why
don't the two of us step outside?' he offered.

'I
don't think so, Tony. I got nothing against you and see no reason to hurt you.'

'You
got no reason to hurt me?' he asked, flabbergasted. 'After what you did you
think you have the right to walk in here and act as if you belong here?'

I
could sense his thick body tensing. I sat quietly and drank my beer, my eyes
focused straight ahead. Bill said something to Flauria about it not being worth
it. In the bar mirror I could see him forcibly restraining Flauria, and Flauria
was just barely smart enough to let himself be restrained.

'Let's
get out of here,' Flauria spat. 'This place smells too much like an outhouse.'
As he and Bill left Zeke's, he pointed a thick finger at me and warned me not
to come back. 'You're not welcome here.'

The
bar was mostly empty but the few people that were around were staring at me. A
blonde, about twenty-five, came over and sat down next to me. She had come into
the bar about the time Flauria was being forcibly restrained.

'Wow,
that was something,' she said.

I
didn't say anything. I really couldn't.

She
made a loud sniffing noise. 'I don't know. You smell pretty good to me.'

I
turned to see her grinning. She was thin, maybe a little too thin, but nice to
look at. She had on dark granny-type sunglasses, which was a funny thing to
wear in a place like Zeke's - making me think that she was a druggie. Her grin
melted into a soft smile. 'You look pretty good too. Anybody ever tell you you
look a lot like Bruce Willis, at least when he had hair?'

'Thanks,
I guess.'

'People
have told me I look like a young Meg Ryan. What do you think?'

It
was hard to tell who she looked like with the dark glasses she was wearing, but
she was blonde and thin, and I guess I could see the resemblance around her
mouth.

'I'd
take you over her any day of the week,' I said.

'In
that case, why don't you buy me a drink?' she asked. 'How about a Cosmo?'

'I
have no idea what that is,' I said, 'but if you want it, I'll buy it.' I waved
over the bartender, who had taken a more sullen attitude towards me, and
ordered a 'Cosmo'. I watched as he poured vodka, Triple Sec, and cranberry
juice into a cocktail shaker and wondered why anyone would want to drink that.
She let me take a sip of it after it had been poured into a Martini glass. It
was too sweet for my taste.

'Come
on, what was going on here before?'

I
turned to face her. With her long straight blonde hair and shit-eating grin,
she reminded me a little of Elaine, at least before Elaine had turned sour. As
I looked at her I noticed her body was more athletic than thin. Her arms and
face were nicely tanned. It took an effort to look away from her.