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Authors: Peter Leonard

Trust Me (18 page)

BOOK: Trust Me
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    "Where's Karen?"

    Lou said, "How the hell should I know?"

    He came around the desk, on Lou's side now.

    "Let's try it again," he said. "Where is she?"

    "I don't know," Lou said. "We were engaged to be married, she just moved out. Left a note on the refrigerator. That's what I get after living with her for eight months and spending a fortune on her-a goddamn note."

    "Did Karen ever mention a guy named Robert Gal? Goes by Bobby."

    Lou shook his head.

    "Bobby Gal, that doesn't ring a bell?"

    "No," Lou said.

    "She has family in the area, right?" O'Clair remembered that from her days living with Samir.

    "Her mother, a born-again, lives in Garden City," Lou said. "And her sister lives in Ferndale and works at this freak show store called Noir Leather."

    "Where is it?"

    "Royal Oak."

    "What's her name?"

    "Virginia."

    

Chapter
Eighteen

 

    Karen was submerged up to her neck in the hot bubbly water, trying to relax, but couldn't stop thinking about Johnny. She pictured him dead on the brown motel bedspread, the front of his white polo soaked with blood, eyes open, staring at her. She couldn't look at him any longer and grabbed the end of the bedspread and pulled it up and over him, thinking what a shock it would be when the maid came in the next morning and found him. Karen didn't want to leave him like that but what choice did she have? This wasn't a Hitchcock film where you rolled the victim up in a rug and dragged him down the stairs to a car in the middle of the night, and put him in the trunk.

    Karen knew the police would be all over the motel, talking to people in the rooms and checking the plates of every car in the parking lot. Why hadn't she thought of that before? Because she didn't imagine shooting Johnny or expect Bobby and Lloyd to show up. Her simple plan was unraveling, spinning out of control. She'd brought the phone in from the bedroom and called her sister.

    "Hello," Virginia said.

    "Is Fly around?" Karen said. "I need him to help me with something."

    "I thought you didn't like him."

    She didn't, but he seemed like the perfect guy for what she had in mind. "I've got a job for him."

    "What's going on?" Virginia said.

    Karen said, "I need him to pick up my car."

    "Where's it at?"

    "A motel. Is he there?" Karen said. "Let me talk to him."

    "You're not cheating on Lou, are you?"

    Karen said, "Why would you say that?"

    "He's called a couple times looking for you," Virginia said. "I thought something was up."

    "What did he say?"

    "This is Lou, have you seen your sister? Something friendly like that," Virginia said. "I can't remember why you're with him. Is it his good looks, or his winning personality?"

    Karen didn't say anything.

    "What's going on?" Her sister dying to know.

    Karen said, "I don't want to get into it right now, okay?"

    "Where're you at?" Virginia said.

    "In a hotel," Karen said. "Where's Fly?"

    "What do you want him to do?"

    "Pick up my car and take it to your place, and put it in the garage."

    "He can't, it's got too much stuff in it. Fly's a pack rat. He's got newspapers dating back to the sixties. He thinks they're going to be worth something someday. And there's all his tools and albums. He's got like five thousand records: the original Grateful Dead, Canned Heat, Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Cream, the Stones. Some are worth like fifty bucks."

    "All right, but I don't want you involved," Karen said. "It might be dangerous."

    "But you don't care if something happens to Fly?"

    She could hear Virginia breathing through her nose. "He can take care of himself," Karen said, "and I'll pay him."

    "How much?"

    Karen said, "Two hundred."

    "Where's it at?" Virginia said.

    Now she was chewing something. Karen said, "What is that?"

    "A carrot."

    "You don't eat when you're talking to someone on the phone." Karen could hear it crunching.

    "Does Lou know?" Virginia said.

    Karen held the phone away from her ear till Virginia stopped chewing and said, "I'd say he's got a pretty good idea."

    "You're being awfully secretive," Virginia said. "Just tell me what's going on, will you?"

    "Lou and I are through," Karen said

    "I knew it. And let me say congratulations. It's about time."

    Karen told her where she was staying and to have Fly come and get the car key. She hung up and reached over the side of the tub and put the phone on the rug. Now she lay back in the hot water up to her chin, the surface covered with soap bubbles-luxurious imported bath oil from a spa in Switzerland it said on the bottle.

    After leaving the Red Roof Inn Karen had driven to a hotel in Bloomfield Hills. She left Johnny's car in the lot and took a cab to the Townsend Hotel in downtown Birmingham. She checked in and walked to a Border's and bought a guidebook on Chicago, her next destination, and went back to her room.

    

    

    Virginia showed up two hours later. She walked in the room and said, "Wow," glancing around. "What's this place cost a night?"

    "Four fifty," Karen said.

    "Four fifty? What'd you do, win the lottery?" She walked through the living room into the bedroom, turned back and looked at Karen. "It's got two TVs?"

    "Three. There's one in the bathroom too."

    Virginia picked a half-eaten croissant from the room service tray and took a bite, talking while she chewed. "Now I know why they looked at me funny when I came in the lobby. I could never afford this place."

    "Do you think maybe it's your hair and outfit?" Her hair was purple and she had a silver stud pierced under her lower lip, and she was wearing a dog collar.

    Virginia grinned. "That's entirely possible." She walked in the bathroom. "Look at this tub, you could put, like five people in it." She came out and went back to the room service tray and popped the heel of the croissant in her mouth. "This place is unbelievable."

    "They've even got a boardroom," Karen said. "You can plan your next stockholders meeting."

    "Perfect," Virginia said and smiled, showing her tongue stud. "I've been looking for a full service facility."

    Karen liked the fact that her sister never took anything too seriously.

    "I've got to go. Fly's in the car waiting," Virginia said. "Are you going to give me the key?"

    "I don't want you involved," Karen said.

    "How's he going to drive two cars? I'm just going to drop him off and leave."

    Karen handed her two $100 bills. "Tell Fly to call me when he's got the car, okay?"

    

    

    "I don't care what you say," Bobby said. "She's coming back for it."

    "I'll give it a little more time," Lloyd said. "But she don't show by dark I'm out of here."

    They'd been sitting in the Mustang in the back of the motel parking lot since Bobby had seen Karen six hours earlier. He'd fallen asleep, gotten out three times to piss. They'd had the car running for a couple hours, putting on the air and listening to the radio and Bobby watched the gas gauge go from full to just over half.

    They listened to a seven song AC/DC superset, Lloyd playing air guitar all the way through "She's Got the Jack," "Highway to Hell," "Thunderstruck" and "Back in Black." Bobby was amused, he wasn't used to seeing Lloyd so animated or enthusiastic about anything. He was a low-key Minnesotan, which was probably redundant.

    Lloyd cut a loud fart and said, "Hear that, I think a moose is loose."

    He glanced at Bobby and grinned. It smelled so bad Bobby had to get out of the car for fifteen minutes. Lloyd just sat there, looking out at Bobby, laughing. Jesus Christ. Bobby looked at his watch. It was 7:30 p.m. and still light out. He got back in the car ready to call it a day. He couldn't take any more of Lloyd, the guy biting his fingernails and farting. Bobby had his hand on the key ready to start the Mustang when he saw a little red car drive in the motel lot and park next to the Audi. A guy in a wifebeater got out of the red car and opened the driver's door of the Audi with a key. Okay. Now, finally, they were getting somewhere.

    Lloyd looked like he was asleep. Bobby tapped him on the shoulder and Lloyd opened his eyes. He saw the Audi backing out and said, "What the fuck?"

    "Exactly," Bobby said. He reached over, turned the key and heard the high-performance engine rumble to life. He shifted into first and followed the Tempo and the Audi out of the motel lot, going right on Rochester Road, hanging back, giving them room, but not too much. They took another right on Fifteen Mile and caravanned all the way to downtown Birmingham.

    Bobby watched the Audi drive in a parking garage. He parked in a metered space on Pierce Street, next to a big red-brick hotel, and waited. A few minutes later Wifebeater came out of the parking garage, crossed the street in front of Bobby's car, walked to the end of the block and took a right. Bobby followed and watched him go in the hotel, nice-looking place called the Townsend. He'd bet everything he had that's where Karen was at that very moment, chilling, thinking about all the things she was going to buy for herself with her newfound wealth. Bobby enjoyed the situation now that he had superior position. He drove past the hotel entrance, saw bellhops in green uniforms, helping a couple with their luggage. He saw the red Tempo parked on the street, a girl with purple hair behind the wheel.

    Lloyd said, "If she's in there let's go get her."

    There was Lloyd jumping the gun again. "Know what room she's in?"

    Lloyd gave him a dirty look. "What do you think?"

    "I don't think you do," Bobby said. "And I don't think she registered in her own name, and even if she did, you think the hotel people are going to tell us? Oh, you looking for Karen Delaney? She's up in room 225. Why don't you go up and surprise her."

    Lloyd said, "Don't use that

high-and-mighty tone or I might have to reach over and break your fucking nose, okay?"

    "You want to go in look around, be my guest. I'm going to wait till she comes out. What do you think of that?"

    

Chapter
Nineteen

    

    Karen saw Johnny flip the bedspread off him. He looked at her and grinned and got up. He chased her out of the motel room and down the stairs to the parking lot. She ran along the side of the building to the breezeway, and that's where Johnny cornered her, in the alcove by the janitor's room. His shirt was completely soaked with blood and his face was pale white. He aimed his gun at her and said, "Why'd you shoot me?"

    Karen said, "I was afraid for my life. I…" That's when Bobby appeared aiming Lou's.45 and blew Johnny off his feet. Bobby looked at her and said, "Where's the money?" She opened her eyes and looked around the room. She was in a junior suite at the Townsend Hotel, sweating and afraid. It was a dream but it was as vivid as any dream she'd ever had. You didn't kill someone—even in self-defense—without repercussions.

    Karen got up and went in the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She came back in the bedroom and turned on the TV. A line moving across the bottom of the screen said,
Channel 1 Action News Exclusive.
Now the camera panned a motel courtyard as a reporter's voice said, "A forty-year-old white male was found shot to death this morning at a local motel."

    The camera framed the reporter, a middle-aged journeyman who looked vaguely familiar. He was standing on the second floor balcony of the motel. The room they'd found Johnny in was behind him. He said, "Fifty yards from where I'm standing, Troy police discovered another shooting victim in the back seat of a stolen minivan less than twenty-four hours ago. Are the two deaths related? Police are investigating."

BOOK: Trust Me
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