Out of the Black (16 page)

I braced against the dashboard. “Oh, shit.”

The GTO’s engine screamed, and I felt myself pushed back in

to the seat as the car picked up speed.

I saw Pinnell’s men turn toward the sound, but they didn’t move right away. The street was dark, and the fire was bright, and by the time they saw us, it was too late.

Two of the men were standing side by side, and they both turned at the last minute and tried to jump out of the way. Murphy swerved and caught them both head-oown fast, and the car jumped as they passed under the tires.

The third man was farther down.

He saw everything.

We drove for a long time, crossing through the warehouse district to the lower market before merging in with the late-night traffic downtown. The dive bars and the dance clubs were closing and the streets were lined with people weaving their way through the crowds toward home, or whatever else the night had in store.

My hands were shaking, and I folded my arms across my chest to make them stop. I thought I should say something to Murphy, but I didn’t know where to begin. I’d seen him angry before, but I’d never seen anything like what’d just happened, and I couldn’t shake the idea that coming to him had been a mistake.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Nowhere,” he said. “Not until I’m sure we’re not being followed.”

“Followed by who? There’s no one left.”

Murphy ignored me and kept driving. Eventually, we made it to the highway, and he got on heading north.

A few minutes passed before he said, “I want you to know that I don’t blame you.”

“Blame me?”

“For what happened to Jimmy.” Murphy turned to me. “You came to me for help. You didn’t know.”

The shaking spread up my arms and into my chest. My teeth rattled in my mouth like loose bones.

I took a deep breath and did my best to steady myself. “Are you going to help me?”

“I’m going to do what needs to be done.” Murphy cleared his throat. “If I can help you, I will, but he’s going to answer for my brother.”

“What are you going to do?”

Murphy shook his head. “I don’t know yet. I need to make a few calls.”

A few calls.

“To who?”

“That’s my business,” Murphy said. “You brought this to me, Matt. I didn’t ask for it.”

The tone of his voice was sharp, but I didn’t care.

“Whatever you’re planning, it has to wait until I have my daughter back.”

I saw Murphy’s eyes narrow. He turned to face me. The lines on his face were pulled tight, and his jaw worked back and forth.

I knew the look.

Usually, that look meant the start of something bad, but I didn’t care. Murphy was big, and he could intimidate a lot of people, but I wasn’t one of them, and he knew it.

“That’s the priority,” I said. “Everything else comes second.”

Murphy’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and stared out at the road. “And if you don’t get her back?”

“I’ll get her back.”

“But if you don’t?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t bring myself to imagine not getting her back. The idea wouldn’t even form in my head. There was no way I would let that happen.

“I’m only asking.”

“I know,” I said. “But I’m going to get her back.”

“But—”

“If anything happens to her,” I said, “anything at all, I’ll kill him myself.”

Murphy pulled up outside Conway Self Storage and typed the pass code into the keypad. The black metal gate whined and slid open along tracks buried in the ground. We pulled in and drove through a maze of storage units, stopping somewhere in the middle.

He parked and we got out.

Murphy took a phone from his pocket and said, “I’m going to make a call. It won’t take long.”

“You want me to wait out here?”

Murphy shook his head and flipped through his keys. He stopped at one, slid it off the ring, and tossed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“Two seventeen.” He pointed toward a block of storage units on my right. “It’s about halfway down on the left. Go in and grab whatever you want. I’ll meet you in a few minutes, and we’ll talk.”

“Grab what? I don’t—”

But Murphy had already turned away. I watched as he dialed a number and pressed the phone to his ear before rounding the corner and disappearing in the shadows.

I looked down at the key in my hand and started walking. My knee was stiff and sore. I still couldn’t put my full weight
on it, but being off of it for a while had helped. I wasn’t ready to run a marathon, but I thought I could make it to the storage unit without much trouble.

Two seventeen was a medium-sized unit, about as big as a one-car garage. There was a padlock at the bottom and I eased myself down and slid the key in.

The lock popped open.

I took it off and pulled up on the handle. The door opened easily. It was dark inside, and all I could see was a wall of cardboard boxes.

I felt along the side for a light switch. I found one, flipped it, and a line of fluorescent lights flickered to life above me.

I stepped back and looked at the boxes. They were stacked from floor to ceiling, seal the lighttys out of ed with packing tape and labeled in heavy black marker. I read a few.
Dishes, Photos, Clothes, Papers
, and
Books
. Another was labeled
Bar
, and one just said
Misc.

I whispered, “What the hell is this?”

I stepped in and pushed on them. They were heavy and full. Along the far side, there was enough room to squeeze in behind the boxes, so I turned sideways and slid through.

There was another wall of boxes behind the first, all stacked and labeled just like the others. I followed the path around these, winding through the maze, leading to the rear of the unit.

Behind the second wall of boxes was a wooden table pressed up against the back wall and covered with a heavy blue tarp. I stood for a moment, staring, then reached out and lifted the corner of the tarp.

Underneath was an AK-47.

I pulled the tarp all the way off.

There were three more AK-47s, side by side, four Mossberg 500 tactical shotguns, and two rows of handguns, mostly .45s.

“Jesus.”

Murphy arranged for us to meet at an all-night diner just outside the city. It was late when we got there, and the restaurant was quiet. The only other people inside were two truck drivers, both sitting silent and alone at either end of the counter.

We picked a booth in the corner by the windows. There was a purple flower in a small glass vase on the table. I slid it to the side and stared out at the cars passing along the highway. Their lights were clear and bright and shone through the glass like tiny jewels.

A waitress in a brown-and-yellow uniform came up with menus and asked, “Something to drink?”

Murphy said, “Coffee.”

I shook my head.

The waitress smiled a tired smile, told us she’d be back for our order, then walked away.

“When was the last time you ate?” Murphy asked.

I thought about it, but I couldn’t remember.

“Get something,” he said. “It’s on me.”

“I’m all right.”

“You’re going to need your strength.”

I turned back to the window and stared at my reflection in the dark. Seeing it reminded me of Anna and the nights I spent with her in the ICU after the accident, watching her through the glass doors as she slept.

The thought turned black, and I looked away.

The waitress returned. She set a cup of coffee on the table in front of Murphy and took a ticket pad from her pocket. “What are we having?”

“Steak and eggs, rare, sunny.” Murphy handed her his menu then motioned to me. “You decide?”

“Nothing for me.”

Murphy frowned. “He’ll have the same.”

The waitress nodded and started back.

“And he’ll take a coffee when you get a chance.”

“You got it, hon.”

Once she was gone, Murphy leaned back in the booth and said, “You look like you could use it.”

I didn’t feel like it, but I knew he was right.

“When they get here, let me talk.” He lifted his cup, sipped. “They don’t like strangers. It’ll be better if you just listen and keep quiet.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Only the name,” Murphy said. “And what happened.”

“Are you sure they’ll help?”

“They’ll help.”

“How do you know?” I pointed to the window and the highway leading back to the city. “She’s out there right now, and anything the light Io“How do you know that?” could be happening to her. I don’t have time to waste with—”

“I asked them as a favor,” Murphy said. “But you need to calm down before they get here. These guys are jumpy. If
they see you acting like this, they might decide helping you isn’t worth the risk. Then we’ll both be fucked.”

“But—”

“No.” He tapped a finger on the table. “You need to understand something. After what happened tonight, I’m a target, too. We need their help to end this or we’ll both end up dead. And your daughter—” He paused, shook his head.

I looked away.

“Trust me, Matt. This is our only option.”

I thought about it, nodded.

“Good.” Murphy lifted his coffee and sipped. “Don’t worry. You’ll feel better once you eat something.”

But I couldn’t eat.

After the waitress brought our food, all I could do was stare at it. The steak was bloody and blue, and the eggs rolled on the plate like two milky wet eyes.

But the coffee was perfect.

Murphy finished his eggs and was halfway through his steak when a rusted green Toyota pickup pulled up outside and two men got out.

Murphy had his head down and didn’t notice.

“Is this them?”

He looked up, nodded, then slid over and said, “Come sit over here.”

I pushed my plate across the table then got up and took the seat next to him.

The two men came inside. Both were wearing heavy down coats. From where I sat, I didn’t notice anything unusual about either of them. If I’d seen them on the street, I probably wouldn’t have given them a second look.

They saw us and started across the dining room.

“Remember,” Murphy said. “Let me talk.”

When they got to the table, they took off their coats and sat down. They didn’t introduce themselves, and neither of them looked directly at me.

“Thanks for coming,” Murphy said.

The man across from me pointed and said, “Who’s this?”

“Matt Caine, an old friend of mine.” He looked at me. “Matt, these are the Vogler brothers. Leo and Eddie.”

I nodded to them.

“Why’s he here?” Leo asked.

“He’s the reason we’re all here.”

They both looked at me. “You’re the one who went up against Pinnell?”

I nodded.

Leo motioned to my face. “Looks like you didn’t think that one through.”

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer.

“It’s gone past that now,” Murphy said. “This is a bigger problem. What did you find out?”

“Nothing we didn’t already know,” Leo said. “We put a couple guys outside his + s’ashouse tonight. That looks like our best spot.”

“Matt says the police down there work for him.”

Leo nodded. “We can still get to him.”

“What do you have in mind?”

I sat and listened to them talk, waiting for Murphy to say something about Anna, but he never did. Instead, they went over the layout of Pinnell’s property, possible security systems, and how they could get inside.

Finally, I’d had enough. “What about Anna?”

Murphy frowned.

“Who’s Anna?” Leo asked. He looked at Murphy. “What’s he talking about?”

“My daughter,” I said. “Pinnell and his men took her, and I need your help to get her back.”

Leo turned to Murphy. “What the fuck is this? You didn’t say anything about no kid.”

Murphy held up his hand. “It’s a side thing, not—”

“A side thing?”

Murphy looked at me, his eyes sharp. “Matt.”

“Listen,” Leo said. “I think I get it. I’ve got kids myself. But we’re not a fucking rescue crew, you got me?” He shook his head. “The fact is, if Pinnell took her, there’s not going to be anyone to rescue. We need to focus on finding ways to get at him.”