Authors: Wallace Stroby

The Heartbreak Lounge (28 page)

BOOK: The Heartbreak Lounge

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“You really think this is necessary?” she said.

She set her suitcase down on the floor. Harry got up from the Italian couch. Errol was on the other side of the room, looking at the titles of books on the shelf.

“He followed me,” Harry said. “He knows where you live.”

He picked up the suitcase, felt a jolt of pain in his knee.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” she said.

“Later. Let's get moving.”

“Where are you taking her?” Reggie said from the kitchen doorway. Behind him, Harry could see Jack at the kitchen table. He'd been fighting tears since they'd arrived. “We have a right to know.”

“No, you don't,” Harry said. “And it's better for you if you don't. Might be a good idea if the two of you thought about going somewhere yourself for a couple weeks.”

“And why's that?”

“He knows about this place. He'll come back, looking for her.”

“I wish he would. Then I'd settle this whole thing.”

“Maybe,” Harry said. “Maybe not.”

“She's safer here.”

“Please, Reggie,” Nikki said.

He looked at Harry, his anger unconcealed, went back into the kitchen.

Errol had taken a book off the shelf, was paging through it. Harry could see the title:
Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition.

“Who's paying for the hotel?” she said.

“Ray, at the moment. It's a place he uses, puts people up. Can you get the door for me?”

He carried the suitcase out to the station wagon, stowed it in the back. She followed him out.

“Jack hates to see people leaving,” she said. “It upsets him.”

“I understand.”

He shut the tailgate, nodded at the house.

“I wasn't joking,” he said. “They should go somewhere. It would be better. You should talk to them.”

“I will â¦ but Reggieâthe both of themâcan be pretty stubborn sometimes.”

“Not a good quality in this situation.”

She reached up, touched his cheek gingerly.

“Did he do that?” she said.

He moved her wrist away gently.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's get the rest of your stuff.”

They went back inside. Errol shook his head, closed the book, replaced it on the shelf.

“I need to get a couple more things upstairs,” she said, “then say good-bye to Jack and Reggie.”

“We'll wait outside,” Harry said. “Warm the car up.”

Out in the station wagon, Harry at the wheel, Errol said, “That true, what you said? About that blond guy being an actor? Making those movies?”

“That's what I heard. Why, you find him attractive?”

“I'll forget you said that.”

Harry turned the heater up, raced the engine.

“He don't look like much,” Errol said. “Built like a mop handle and you couldn't call him pretty. Must have a big one.”

“Ask Reggie.”

“Thanks, but that definitely falls into the too-much-information category. That's an image I can do without.”

“You asked.”

They watched her come out of the house, carrying a shoulder purse.

“That is a fine-looking woman, though,” Errol said.

She pulled open the back door, got in.

“Ready to go?” Harry said. “Get everything you needed?”

“Yes,” she said. “It just feels strange, leaving like this. This is the first real home I've had in a long while.”

“You'll be back,” he said.

The hotel was off Route 35 in Old Bridge. She used the key card to open the door, held it for him. He set the suitcase on the bed.

“You can call out,” he said, “but don't give anyone this number or tell them where you're staying. That includes Jack and Reggie.”

“They'll be worried.”

“Give them my number. They can call me, I'll tell them what they need to know, get a message back to you if that's the issue.”

“That sounds like a roundabout way of doing things.”

“It's the safest.”

He went over to the window, looked down onto the parking lot.

“How am I supposed to get around?” she said. “I'm sure that T.G.I. Friday's downstairs is a delight, but I'll get a little tired of it after a while, don't you think?”

“I'll be around. Take you where you need to go. That includes meals too.”

“So you're going to stop by, take care of all my needs?”

He saw her half smile, felt himself blush.

“Errol's waiting,” he said. “There's some things we need to do. I'll call you later tonight, see how you're doing.”

“That's something to look forward to, I guess.”

“In the meantime, any questions, problems, just call.”

“I only have one question so far,” she said.

“What's that?”

“How long do I have to stay here?”

“I don't know. Until this is over.”

“Over? Will it ever be?”

“Yes,” he said. “It will.”

They waited in semidarkness, only one light on in the living room. Harry sat in shadow, Errol in the light, half-asleep,
feet propped up on an ottoman. Reggie and Jack were in the kitchen, cleaning up from the late dinner they'd made.

The phone on the coffee table rang. Errol looked up.

It rang again. Harry leaned forward. He was aware of Reggie and Jack in the kitchen doorway.

He picked it up on the third ring, said, “Right on time.”

Silence on the line.

“What's wrong, sport?” Harry said. “Forget what you were going to say?”

Errol was watching him, frowning.

“Is she there?” Harrow said.

“No. She's gone. Just you and me now.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.” He touched his split lip.

“Then that's bad news for you,
sport
. Like I said, the next time you won't even see me coming. Just
pop, pop
and that's it.”

“Any time,” Harry said. “Any place.”

“It'll happen,” Harrow said. “Sooner than you think.” He hung up.

They were headed south on Route 34, Connor driving his unmarked Crown Victoria. He'd picked Johnny up at the motel, stopped for coffee at a Dunkin' Donuts along the way. Their cups rested in plastic holders on the console. Connor had turned the police radio off when Johnny got in, and they'd driven the last few miles in silence.

“Under the seat,” Connor said.

Johnny looked at him, then reached under, felt the cardboard box there.

“Go ahead,” Connor said. “Have a look.”

He pulled the box out, opened it on his lap. Inside, nestled in bubble wrap, was a microcassette recorder. Beside it, coiled and bound with a black twist tie, was a thin cord and a tiny microphone.

“Voice-activated,” Connor said. “Microphone can go in your jacket, collar, anywhere. I can show you how to rig it up. Take five minutes. They have newer models now, wireless, but this one was sort of borrowed off the books, if you know what I mean.”

“I'm supposed to wear this?”

“Like I said, it takes five minutes to put on. After you get comfortable with it, you'll forget it's there. You have to tape it on, though. I'll show you how to do that as well. You'll need to shave in a couple places, make it easier to get the tape on and off.”

“So you're solo on this, huh?”

“Far as it goes. When things develop, I'll bring my SAC in. Not until I have some of those tapes in hand, though. Last thing I need is a clusterfuck, other people trying to horn in.”

Johnny closed the box, slid it back under the seat, took his coffee from the console.

“There's extra tapes in there too. I'll show you how to load it.”

Johnny peeled the plastic lid back, steam rising out, sipped.

“You do anything with that address I gave you?” Connor said.

Johnny shook his head.

“Maybe it's better if you don't. Ever think about that?”

Connor pulled into a strip mall, parked, took the lid off his coffee. The nut smell of it filled the car.

“The people you work for,” Johnny said, “how much they know about me?”

“Like I said, they know I'm working a CI. But your name's not in the files. Nobody knows who you are.”

“That the way things are normally done? Or am I special?”

“I did what I thought was best.”

“And when Joey goes down, you get the credit. No one else.”

“I don't deserve it? All I did? I recruited you, got you out of Belle Glades, cut the deal. I gave you two years of life you would have pissed away down there otherwise. I did that. No one else.”

“Seems odd, that's all. You doing this on your own.”

“Let me worry about that. I have my reasons.”

“Yeah, I'm sure you do. Don't get me wrong. I respect a man that looks out for himself.”

“There's a flip side to that too.”

“What's that?”

“By Department of Justice guidelines, if an informant is involved in a âserious act of violence,' as they put it, the agent in charge is required to consider closing his file and targeting him for arrest.”

“Consider? That's all?”

“That's the way it's written. Now, I don't know exactly what you're doing for Alea on a day-to-day basis, but I imagine
you're not selling real estate, you know? Any other agent, you would have been closed down, probably be back in Glades already.”

“I'm never going back to Glades.”

“You sound pretty certain of that.”

“I am.”

“I'm just trying to give you the whole picture. There's more to it than you think.”

Connor looked out the window. Johnny sipped coffee.

“I'll take you back,” Connor said. “Show you how to set that rig up so you can do it yourself. When is he going to meet with Acuna?”

“Day after tomorrow. We'll know the place soon.”

“Close as you can get, John. And as much as you can get.”

“I understand.”

Connor put his coffee back in the holder, put the car in gear.

“Do this my way, John, and we'll both come out of it with what we want.”

“I believe you,” Johnny said.

The travel agency was in Freehold and catered to Central American immigrants and illegal workers. There were signs in the window offering phone cards, check cashing, money transfers. He chose it because he knew they would take cash, ask no questions. The heavy Latin man at the counter watched as Johnny counted the bills out, took them without a word.

When he left the office ten minutes later, he had a roundtrip ticket to O'Hare on United leaving the next day, three one-way Amtrak tickets from Newark to Vancouver with open dates. The total came to $750 and he gave the man $800, didn't ask for change.

Mitch was waiting in the Firebird, the engine running. Johnny got in, put the ticket envelopes in the glove box.

“You all set?” Mitch said. He pulled away from the curb.

“Yeah. But I need a ride tomorrow.”

“No problem. Where to?”

“The airport.”

Mitch looked at him.

“You going away?”

“Just for a day or two. And when I get back you should think about what we talked about. Because it's going to happen. Soon.”

Back at the motel, he called Joey.

“How are you doing on that thing?” he said.

“Getting it together,” Joey said. “Another day or two, maybe. I'll get there.”

“Good.” He looked at the recorder and the mike laid out on the bed. “I have to go away for a couple days. I'll be back.”

“Go away? Where? I need you here.”

“Relax. It'll only be for a day or so. There's something I need to take care of. Then I'll come back and we can settle this business with your uncle.”

“I talked to Santelli, about you being the go-between. He agreed.”

“Good.”

“You sure you want to do this?”

“I told you I would.”

“You might be taking a chance. Maybe a big one.”

“We'll see,” Johnny said.

BOOK: The Heartbreak Lounge

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