Brothers and Bones (26 page)

“And no one ever recognized you?”

“If you’d seen what I looked like before Grossi worked me over, and before I grew this forest on my face and head, you’d understand why no one recognized me. Besides, they probably thought, like you did, that I’d be long gone after what they did to me. I mean, what kind of lunatic sticks around after that?” He shook his head. “I guess I turned out to be exactly that kind of lunatic.” A gravelly sound slipped from his lips and I thought it might have been a laugh.

I looked at Bonz’s long, dirty, tangled hair and filthy beard, the stooped way he still walked—though he seemed to be walking a little straighter, I realized—and I thought about what he’d just said about the mob probably thinking he’d left town. I realized it wasn’t at all surprising that they hadn’t found him.

“But why
did
you stick around,” I asked, “if you knew it was dangerous for you?”

“Because of you, I think. I can’t be sure. I mean, I wasn’t thinking clearly there for thirteen years or so, but I think it’s because Jake had given me a message for you. Somewhere inside I knew that Jake and you were part of what had happened to me. I knew you were here in Boston. I think I was waiting to run into you. At least…” Again, he groped in the dark for the right word. “At least subconsciously. I know when I saw you, it felt like I was supposed to meet you, you know? Like there was a purpose to it. And I hadn’t had a purpose in a long, long time.”

Purpose. I could relate.

“But you ran from me that first day,” I pointed out, “in the subway. I went back for you and you were gone.”

“I was confused. Seeing you…confused me.”

I looked up and noticed that Bonz had taken us back to the pizza place. He drove the truck through the lot, which curved around behind the building, and parked beside my Corolla, which sat where we’d left it in a corner of the parking lot, with the restaurant on one side and a line of trees on the other. Thick tree branches reached over our heads, throwing us into a comfortingly dark moon shadow.

“What are we doing here again?” I asked.

“You left Jake’s notes in your car.”

“Holy shit, I forgot.”

“Besides, I left something in there, too.”

Bonz stepped out of the pickup and closed the door quietly. I did the same. He walked around to the trunk of my Corolla.

“Pop it,” he said.

“Why?”

“I put something in there that I want to get out. Open it.”

I walked over to the driver’s door of my car. “When were you in my trunk?”

“Before I busted into your apartment and saved your ass.”

“How’d you get in my car?”

“You keep a key under your bumper, you idiot.”

He was right. I put a little magnetic hide-a-key box there when I first got the car. I’d forgotten all about it. Then I remembered that, when we were running from Grossi, Bonz already seemed to know where my car was. I also remembered that it was unlocked when we got there.

I reached into the car and lifted the trunk latch. I walked back to join Bonz, who was looking down into the trunk. When I got there and looked in, two eyes looked back at me, full of anger and fear. Inside my trunk was a man, bound hand and foot with duct tape.

“Oh, shit,” I said.

TWENTY-EIGHT

When the guy in my trunk saw me he struggled furiously against his bonds and grunted something unintelligible through the tape covering his mouth. Bonz must have found the duct tape in my trunk, where I’d left it a few months ago after using it to keep my exhaust pipe from dragging.

The guy wasn’t looking at Bonz. He was focused on me. His eyes were pleading.

“Oh my God!” I said. I looked at Bonz, stunned. “You kidnapped someone?!”

“Technically, I think, we both did.”

“But…oh my God! …Why?”

“Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

I had so many questions I didn’t know where to begin. “How long has he been in there?”

“Since right before I rescued you.”

I looked at my watch. It was after five in the morning. “
Five hours
?” I thought about the bumps I’d heard now and then while we were driving. I’d assumed the car was finally succumbing to its months-long fight against its inevitable junking. “I don’t understand,” I said. “Why did you…I mean, why did we…no, wait, not me, you…why did
you
do this?”

“Well, why don’t we ask him that? But first, does he look at all familiar to you?”

I looked down at the man trussed up in my trunk. His begging eyes looked back at me. I frowned. He did look a little familiar. I couldn’t think where I’d seen him before, but I knew I had. I tried to picture where it might have been. My mind flashed on an image of him lying in the street—no, not the street, but an alley. The one next to my apartment. Was this the guy who was lying there, a guy I had taken to be a homeless man sleeping, the night Bonz first came to my apartment and dragged me into the alley next to my building? I thought it might have been. I also thought there may have even been more than that, but I couldn’t quite—

I’d been so lost in thought for the past minute or so that I hadn’t heard the crunch of gravel beneath car tires behind me. A siren whooped just once.

“Don’t move,” an authoritative voice boomed through a loudspeaker. “Put your hands in the air.”

I ignored the conflicting nature of those two orders and chose to obey the second.

“Now turn around, slowly.”

The man in the trunk started to thrash around. As I turned, I naturally expected to see Bonz turning around too, hands raised. Instead, I saw empty parking lot beside me. Bonz was gone.

The man in my trunk moaned loudly into the duct tape. Twenty feet in front of me, a police car faced me, its spotlight on me, partially blinding me. I heard both of the squad car’s doors open, then footsteps from the driver’s side came my way. I assumed the other officer was covering me from behind the open passenger door.

“Keep your hands up.”

A muscular police officer in uniform walked out of the light, toward me, his hand on the gun still in its holster at his hip.

“Anybody in the car?” he asked. He eased closer to my Corolla.

“No,” I said.

“How about the pickup truck?”

“No, sir.” At least I didn’t think so. Frankly, I had no idea where Bonz was.

“This the Corolla from the APB?” he called over his shoulder.

“I think so,” came a voice on the other side of the bright light.

“Well, shit,” said the first cop as he drew his gun and pointed it at me. I was getting real tired of having guns pointed at me. “This guy killed someone tonight. Big night for us, Boomer.” I assumed Boomer was his partner. It seemed a more logical conclusion than that he’d already given me a buddy-buddy nickname. “Step away from the vehicle slowly,” he ordered, “and get on the ground, facedown. Now.”

The cop was still advancing, slowly, and I could see his clean-shaven, boyish face now. His eyes flicked into my trunk and went wide.

“Get your ass on the ground now!” he barked at me. He called over his shoulder, “He’s got a guy in his trunk, Boomer, looks to be alive.”

As I dropped to my knees I heard the crackle of a police radio. Hard to know for sure, but it sounded like backup was on its way. They must have called in my plates and, when they found out who I was, decided that I was dangerous enough to warrant sending more cops. Maybe I should have been flattered. Instead, I was very, very sad about all this. The cops seemed pleased, though. What must have seemed routine at first, maybe a teenaged couple necking behind the pizza place, or, at worst, a breaking and entering, had turned into the capture of a suspect wanted for murder.

“Facedown, now! Don’t make me tell you again.” I lowered myself onto my face. A pebble bit into my cheek.

“Hold tight, sir,” he said. “You’ll be just fine.” I assumed he was addressing my duct-taped captive.

I heard a creak of wood and a rustle of leaves, followed by a soft grunt. The cop heard it too, because he said, “You hear that, Boomer?”

“Boomer can’t hear anything right now. He’s sleeping.” It was Bonz’s voice. “No, don’t turn around. Now drop your weapon.”

The cop hesitated.

“Drop it!”

I wanted to raise my head to see what was happening, but not badly enough to risk catching a bullet in the face in case there was gunfire.

“You can’t see me right now,” Bonz said, “but I’ve got your partner’s gun trained on you. I know how to shoot. And yes, in case you’re wondering, I know what it feels like to shoot someone. And kill someone. It’s not fun, but it’s sometimes necessary. Don’t make it necessary now.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” the cop said.

“Actually, you are. If you knew me, you’d know how big a mistake you’re making by not doing everything I fucking say. I don’t wanna hurt you, but I’ll do so without a second thought if you make me. Now, if you don’t drop that gun within the next three seconds, I’ll put a round into your knee. You have a preference? Right or left?”

Still, the cop hesitated. He was brave, I had to give him credit for that.

“Listen to my voice, Officer,” Bonz said. “Do I sound like I’m bluffing? I’m going to count now. When I reach three, you’re going to be in blinding agony. Your knee will be gone. The good news is that you’ll go on permanent disability. Think about it. A free ride for the rest of your life. Practically a lifelong vacation. As a bonus, you’ll get to park really close to buildings from now on.”

I could hear the cop breathing. The guy in my trunk had stopped moaning. I held my breath.

“Listen, pal,” the cop said, “if you drop that gun right now—”

“I’m not your pal, Officer. A pal wouldn’t shoot another pal. But I’m definitely going to shoot you and destroy your knee you if you don’t toss your gun about five feet to your left very, very soon. Now stop stalling. We both know your backup will arrive soon, so you can see that we’re both just about out of time. I’m going to count now. As I do, listen to my voice and try to decide if I’m bluffing.”

Bonz certainly didn’t sound to me like he was bluffing.

“Ready, here I go. One…two…”

A gun bounced in the gravel a few feet away. I watched it come to rest with its barrel pointed directly at my face. It figured.

“Good choice. I wasn’t bluffing.”

“You’re in a lot of trouble, mister.”

“I have been for a long time, Officer,” Bonz replied. “Now, you know the drill. Do as you told my friend there to do and lie facedown on the ground, then put your hands behind your back.”

A moment later the cop was lying on the ground, facing me. I saw hatred in his eyes. I didn’t blame him. This was going to be a pretty big black mark on his record. If he’d had hopes of rising fast on the force, we’d killed those hopes tonight.

“Charlie, why are you still lying there?” Bonz said as he approached.

I stood up and rubbed the spot on my cheek where the pebble had made a temporary dent.

“Put his cuffs on him,” Bonz said. “Nothing stupid now, Officer.”

I removed the handcuffs from the cop’s belt and snapped them on his wrists. “Sorry,” I said to him. “I really am.”

He ignored me. “Is my partner hurt?” he asked Bonz.

“Just a bump on the head. He’ll be fine.”

“Should we cuff him too?” I asked.

“Already did.”

“How’d you take him out?”

“They parked right under a nice thick tree limb. Climbed up, then jumped straight down on him.”

I leaned down and looked into the cop’s eyes. “I didn’t kill anyone. Please believe me. Tell the other cops that.”

“Blow me,” he replied.

He really was pretty brave.

“Stop playing with the cop, Charlie. It’s time to put him away.”

Bonz stuck the cop’s gun into his belt at the small of his back and jerked the officer to his feet. He walked the man to the squad car and put him in the backseat. I could see the silhouette of the unconscious Boomer beside him. Then Bonz went over to the trunk of my car.

“Give me a hand here,” he said. “We have to move fast now.” He said to the guy in my trunk, “Looks like you’re coming with us again.”

The guy’s eyes squeezed shut tightly and he moaned pathetically. I felt a little sorry for him, then wondered what his role was in all this. For all I knew, he’d killed Jake. I didn’t know. I shelved my pity and helped Bonz hoist the guy out of the trunk and onto Bonz’s shoulder.

“We don’t have a trunk this time,” Bonz said as he carried the guy’s squirming body over to our pickup truck.

“Are you sure we need this guy?” I asked.

“Only for a little while, then we’ll dump him somewhere.”

At that, our captive screamed into the tape across his mouth and thrashed about violently. Bonz dropped him roughly to the ground. The guy grunted in pain.

“You done squirming?” Bonz asked him.

The man closed his eyes and nodded.

“Good,” Bonz said as he grabbed the man under his shoulders. “Charlie?”

I sighed and grabbed his legs and we carried him the rest of the way to the truck. He was a pretty big guy.

“We can’t put him in the truck bed, can we?” I asked, now an active participant in a kidnapping.

“No, he might do something stupid, like roll out onto the road. Fortunately, this is an extended cab. It’s got a small backseat. Our friend will be a little cramped, but he’ll survive. He’s used to being cramped by now.”

I opened the passenger door, then a little rear door that swung open the opposite way. We maneuvered our captive into the backseat, where he lay with his eyes closed.

I leaned in and said quietly, “I don’t think we’re going to hurt you. I think we just want some answers.” I had no idea if either statement was true, of course, but I still couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy. Apparently, Old Charlie was alive and well in me. I didn’t plan to let him—meaning me—get in the way of anything important, however.

As Bonz got into the cop car and pulled it out of our way, tucking it into the shadow of the restaurant, I hurried over to my Corolla to retrieve Jake’s notes from the backseat. I returned to the pickup and got into the passenger seat as Bonz slid behind the wheel. A moment later, we turned out of the parking lot and drove away from the pizza place. I heard sirens in the distance.