Authors: Cathy Perkins,Taylor Lee,J Thorn,Nolan Radke,Richter Watkins,Thomas Morrissey,David F. Weisman
“Some people?”
“I really don’t know who they are. Just some real estate
company. I think the lawyer, Rouse, has some connection to it.”
“That’s Thorp’s buddy, partner, and next door neighbor,”
Sydney said. “He’s the real power behind the throne.”
“Jesus, my foot hurts bad. Damn!”
“You once worked for Shaun Corbin when they came in by
seaplane to Fallen Leaf Lake, didn’t you?” Sydney asked.
Gatts looked like he didn’t want to answer that, but a
little move by Marco altered his attitude.
“Yes.”
Sydney moved a little closer and, now behind Gatts, said,
“You want to stay alive, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I have a few simple questions for you.” She massaged
the back of his neck with the gun. “You answer them correctly and you’ll have a
good chance of getting out of here alive. You don’t, I’m going to leave you two
alone. I’m a little squeamish.”
Gatts had a look on his face, the skin drawn back, nostrils
wide, fear crawling out his pores.
Marco leaned down and smiled as evilly as he could. “She’s
not kidding. I’d answer her questions. And the thing to remember is, we already
know a lot. We talked to people. She catches you in a lie, she’ll walk away. She
walks, you’re completely and royally screwed.”
“Who ordered Karen Orland and her unlucky boyfriend killed?”
Sydney asked.
Without hesitation, a very scared Gatts said, “You know it
was Thorp.”
“Who did the killing?”
“I don’t…I’m just tellin’ you what I heard, what went
around. I don’t know who the doer was. That’s the God’s honest truth.”
“Tell me what you know about me getting shot at the hatchery
Sunday afternoon,” Sydney said. “Be careful how you answer. You make a mistake,
lie, there’s no coming back from that. Don’t contradict things we already know.
We just want corroboration.”
The expression on Gatts’ face made it seem he’d decided it
was best to get on their side and find a way out. “You probably want to talk to
Shaun Corbin about that.”
“And why is that?” Sydney asked.
“That moron came up here—”
“Corbin?”
“Yeah. A week ago…gets drunk and starts shootin’ off his
mouth how he’s gonna be a big deal. Settle issues. You being the issue he’s
gonna to settle. He’s got a small brain, big mouth. I didn’t buy it. I didn’t
think he would actually go after you.”
“Thorp wasn’t behind it?” Marco asked.
Gatts hesitated. “Well, yes and no. This is gonna get me
killed for sure.”
Sydney said, “Better later than now.” She turned to Marco.
“You think now he’s going to start lying? Maybe a bullet in the other foot will
get him to tell us what we want to know.”
Sydney cocked the revolver.
“Wait, wait! Okay. Don’t shoot,” Gatts cried.
Marco said, “She sees that little telltale hesitation that
precedes a lie, she’ll put another bullet in you.”
“Corbin was mouthing off about some heavy hitter coming in
to take care of her,” he said, nodding back toward Sydney. “It was set up for
after the big Gatsby party next weekend. I didn’t know if he was talking out his
ass or what. He’s a major bullshitter, but sometimes he knows things. He’s got a
string of hookers who work the party circuit. He finds out all kinds of dirt on
people. So he’s talking how he’s gonna save his cousin some money. Starts
blabbering how he can do the job and make himself a hero. Like I said, he’s a
moron.”
Marco glanced up at Sydney. “You know Shaun Corbin?”
“Yes. And he fits the description perfectly. Short, fat, not
the brightest star in the galaxy. I didn’t think of him, but he’s perfect. I
think we got our guy.”
“See?” Marco said. “That may have just got you some more
time on this earth. You might want to make good use of it and get the hell out
of Dodge.”
Sydney said, “By the way, who set up the security system for
Rouse? Was that Dutch Grimes, by any chance?”
“Dutch Grimes sets up the systems for all the bigwigs.
High-tech stuff.”
“He still live in South Lake?” Sydney asked.
“He’s got a place up Keller Road where you make the turn to
go to the ski resort. He’s not that far from where Corbin lives.”
Marco looked at Sydney. “We got what we need?”
“I think we do. Gary, I don’t want you leaving town right
away,” Sydney said. “I want you to get that foot fixed up. Go to a hospital in
Reno, tell them you shot yourself accidentally. Then, for the big Gatsby party,
you go ahead and make your deliveries as usual. That way, nobody’s gonna get all
worked up and start hunting you down. After you finish, you can take a nice,
long vacation. Let me show you something.”
Sydney came down where Gatts could see her. She showed him
some of what was on her smartphone video. “You do like you’re told. Otherwise,
this will be everywhere you don’t want it to be. You cooperate, in time, I’ll
get rid of it. We have nothing personal against you.”
Gary Gatts, utterly beaten, nodded. They left him sitting
there in the water next to his drug cache, holding his wounded foot.
As they climbed the stone steps, Sydney said, “We do good
work. Bad cop, worse cop.”
“How’s the leg?”
“Not bad. Sore. How are you?”
“I’m adjusting to my new reality,” Marco said. “In some
ways, it’s a lot like my old reality.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Yeah, well, it’s what you get picking up strange girls on
the road. They all come with some kind of baggage. What are you thinking of
doing with Corbin?”
“I want some information and, like Gatts, I want him on
video. That video, I’ll use to pay him back. I’m not up for killing him myself.
But I know who wouldn’t hesitate. Once we have that, you’re free and clear.”
“You?”
Sydney threw a look at him. “If Corbin has all this inside
information, I want it. If it’s good enough, I’ll find some way to use it. I’m
going to get to Thorp one way or another—or he’s going to get to me.”
“Maybe it’ll be enough, you’ll just have to give it to the
right people.”
“Maybe,” she said. “We had some very good information once
before and it just sort of vanished. This time, I’ll be more careful.”
“I might not be there to pick you up after the next hit
attempt.”
“I thought you were starting to like me?” Sydney said in a
seductively mocking way.
“Oh, I like you just fine. Maybe even a touch more than just
fine. But I promised myself no more crusades. Shaun Corbin shot a Shelby, and
for that he has to pay. It’s my last stop on the road to freedom.”
He sensed that she didn’t believe him, and he didn’t know
how convinced he was either, but it sounded good. As they headed back to where
the car was parked, he said, “You asked him about some guy, Dutch, who installed
a security system. What are you thinking?”
“We’ll talk about that after we talk to Corbin. Once I
understand some things, then talking about Dutch might make some sense.”
30
Nine-thirty in the morning, the sound of stones crunching, a
vehicle coming into the driveway startled Leon awake. He moved slow, carefully
lowering the recliner to avoid noise.
He couldn’t believe he’d slept that hard. He was upset with
himself. It had to be the jet lag and the mountain air, and maybe the extra
exertion of the fight with the crazy old man on the mountain. Assuming it was
Corbin coming home, he said in a barely audible voice, “About damn time you
showed.”
He checked the chamber in his gun and seated the clip. The
silencer was in firm as he moved to the side of the window and observed the
target coming up to the door talking loud on his cell. Man had any sense, he
would have been long gone. Listening, Leon heard him say as he started to unlock
the door, “Just get the fuck over here with my money, Kora, right now, or I’m
gonna make your life more miserable than you can imagine. I’ll destroy you with
a couple clicks of the mouse.”
A short, fat guy came in swearing under his breath, dropping
his keys and phone on the table by the door, muttering ceaselessly. He looked
like shit. Like he’d been on a major binge, stains on his shirt and pants.
“About time you dragged your fat ass home,” Leon said,
sitting back down in the recliner, smiling at the man, the compact HK with
silencer resting on his knee.
So this poor excuse is the cause of the mess.
Corbin froze, his eyes locking on Leon’s weapon with
appropriate shock and fear. Then he glanced at the things Leon had pulled out of
his suitcase and his backpack that were now spread all over the tables, ottoman,
chairs.
“Relax, boy,” Leon said. “I’m on your side.”
Corbin couldn’t find his tongue, seemed to be considering a
run, but where? How fast could fat boy go before a bullet caught him? Two feet?
“Don’t even think about it,” Leon suggested. “I’m not your
problem. I’m the solution to your problem.”
He paused to let it sink in, then said, “I’m not familiar
with this area, so I’m gonna need your help. You being a hotshot PI and all.”
Leon waved his gun, Corbin still fixated on it, not looking like he was feeling
any relief from what Leon was telling him.
“After that, I’m going home and you can carry on,” Leon
said. “I figure you’ll be groveling and apologizing for a year to two.”
Give the fool a sense of survival. Unlike the old man, this
yokel didn’t seem to have much attitude besides fear and stink. Guy was coming
off an epic bender.
“I’d have you fix breakfast, but I don’t trust anything in
this place. You’re a real pig, my friend,” Leon said, then added, “Go ahead and
breathe. While you’re at it, remove your piece, slow, fingertips. You know the
drill. Put it on the table there. You got a backup, do the same. You move too
sudden, I’ll kill you sudden.”
Leon smiled his much practiced De Niro
Taxi
smile,
eyes wide, evil grin.
Corbin did what he was told, hands trembling, confirming
Leon’s thought that he was coming off a serious binge.
“Sit here,” Leon pointed to the wicker chair with the filthy
cushion.
Corbin lowered himself awkwardly into the chair across from
Leon, eyes glancing at the coffee table full of tapes, pictures, and notebooks.
“I’m curious,” Leon said. “How is it that the DA’s
investigator is still walking around? How’d that happen?”
Corbin finally got his vocals working. He said, albeit
meekly, “I shot her…point blank.”
Leon nodded. Played with the HK. “Somewhere between point
and blank, you didn’t get the job done. What I hear, you weren’t the one who was
supposed to do the job in the first place. You botch a hit, it just makes it all
the more difficult for a pro to come in and clean up your mess, don’t you
think?”
Corbin seemed uncertain how to answer. What he finally said
was, “It was a target-of-opportunity kind of deal. So—”
“Target-of-opportunity kind of deal? Interesting way to put
it. What made it such a deal?”
The guy hesitated, thinking, unsteady. He had tiny hands
with stubby fingers. He said, “She was alone in the hatchery. Perfect
situation.”
His goddamn hands are freaky.
Leon studied this fool for a moment. “Perfect, was it?
Government property. You kill somebody there, it brings in the feds. What kind
of deal is that?”
Corbin said nothing.
Leon, his De Niro smile splitting his face, said, “You got
your stuff packed like you’re headed on a long vacation.”
Corbin stared at him, and he noticed the guy had a nasty
mole in the center of his forehead. Leon said, “How come you never got that mole
taken off?”
“What?”
“The mole. That ugly mole in the center of your forehead.
Why didn’t you get it removed? You don’t look in the mirror, see how ugly that
damn thing is?”
I’m gonna take that fucking mole!
“I…I guess I just got used to it. Didn’t notice it.”
“Relax, molehead. Nothing’s going to happen. We’re just
going to talk, straighten this out. You’re family. That’s makes you safe. Nobody
wants to kill family. Thorp doesn’t kill family.”
Corbin didn’t appear to buy that. Whatever was going on in
that addled brain of his suddenly landed on an idea. His face lit up. He said,
“I’ll tell you what. You want to make some real money? I’m talking millions.”
“A deal?” Leon asked.
“Yeah. I mean something really big. Listen, man, I got all
the skinny on what goes on over at Incline. The big gambling tournaments.
Whatever you’re getting paid is peanuts compared to what’s available to somebody
wants to get rich and get rich fast.” While he talked, he made all these little
twitches, like a teen girl on her first date.
“Big?”
“You wouldn’t believe,” Corbin said.
Beads of sweat popped out on the guy’s nose, forehead and
upper lip. Fear ran riot through his veins.
“I’m talking maybe fifteen, twenty mil. I can work something
with you. I know where that cash will be, and I know how to get to it.”
“That’s big money, alright,” Leon said. “Where is all that
money? Under the house? Buried in the desert? A gold mine you know about?”
“No. Listen, the man you’re working for…Thorp…his lawyer is
like the secret Swiss bank of Tahoe. This big Gatsby weekend coming up, there’ll
be so goddamn much money rolling in here, you won’t believe it. Look, we can
work something out.”
“You got the skinny, right?” Leon asked.
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that like the whole
naked
truth. No clothes
covering the truth. By the way, that thing on your forehead is distracting as
hell. Like you got three eyes. I mean, Jesus, man, the only people could stand
that, wouldn’t be distracted, is some dot-headed Hindu.”
Corbin said nothing.
“Write down the password to get into your laptop,” Leon
said. “I think we can work out a deal.”
“Why is that necessary?” Corbin asked in a pleading, little
girl’s voice.