Pony finished the call. He opened the back of the cell phone, used his nail to prod the SIM card free, and handed it to Joker. Joker walked over to the coffee-table, picked up a hammer that was lying there and pounded the SIM into tiny plastic and silicon fragments.
Princess walked out of the bedroom. “Put it in the trash disposal, asshole, like a regular person.”
Joker lifted the hammer and swung it theatrically, smiling. “Maybe I’ll pound you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“She don’t like guys pounding her,” said Pony, removing the battery from the cell phone, and slotting in a fresh SIM card with a brand-new number.
“Oh, yeah,” said Joker, grabbing at his crotch. “Maybe she just hasn’t met the right guy.”
Arms folded in front of her, Princess made a clucking sound and waggled her pinky finger. “Like the little thing you have would impress me.”
“Okay,” said Pony, fitting the cover back on the cell phone. “That was Shotcaller.”
Princess and Joker looked at him. They had been waiting for this call. It was Shotcaller who had the final say over what happened to Emily and Charlie. Princess had been lobbying hard for keeping Emily. Slow and steady money, an additional revenue stream.
Joker and Pony wanted to explore new territory. See if they could sell them back. Take a ransom. Make a big score. Most of it would have to be kicked up to Shotcaller and those above him, but it would change everything for their little crew. It came with a big risk, but it was a big reward too.
“What he say?” Princess asked, no longer able to contain herself.
“You won’t like it,” said Pony. He couldn’t show it, but he was scared about breaking the news to Princess. She was volatile and, as befitted her name, she didn’t like it when things didn’t go her way. She had it bad for the Asian chick too. Everyone could see it. Pony figured that was part of the reason why Shotcaller had made the decision he had. This had to be business, not personal.
Princess kicked out at the back of the couch. “Mother. . .”
She started towards him, eyes ablaze. “What you say to him? You been talking shit behind my back, huh, Pony?”
Pony’s hand slid back, reaching for his pistol. If he had to, he’d put a cap in her ass. “I didn’t say nothing,” he told her, standing his ground.
She was up in his face. She jabbed a red-nailed finger at him. “You’re a liar. I should have spoken to Shotcaller. Not you.”
Joker stepped between them. “Hey, it wasn’t our decision. We knew that.”
“If it makes it any better, he’s not going with what we wanted either.”
Now it was Joker’s turn to get agitated. “What? We can get seven for them. That’s a big score.”
Pony grimaced. “It’s a big score, but it’s not going to be our score.”
Both Joker and Princess looked puzzled.
“Someone else is taking them. They’re going to run the ransom.”
“Who?” said Princess. “She’s mine. I took her. So did you. We took the risk getting them back here. And the whips.”
“And we’re going to see some money,” said Pony.
“So who is it? Who’s taking them?” Princess pushed.
Pony was getting irritated. Princess had been around long enough to know that there were some questions you didn’t ask, and that was one of them. You could ask about what happened down the chain, but not what was going on in the executive suite. Those kinds of questions could get her killed. Not just her either. Him too. And Joker.
“Who do you think?” said Pony. The actual words weren’t going to leave his mouth, no way, no how.
If he was asked whether he’d told her that the two people they’d kidnapped were being handed to La Eme, the Mexican Mafia, he wanted to be able to deny ever having said those words.
“Screw that shit,” said Princess. “Screw them. We’re Salvador. Screw those wetback bitches.”
Pony’s hand closed around his pistol. He brought it forward, straight into the side of Princess’s face, opening up a cut above her eye. “Shut the hell up.”
She went down onto one knee. He followed up with another blow to the top of her head. Her scalp split, blood pouring into her thick tangle of black hair.
He hunkered down so he was at eye level with her. “You want to get us killed? Because that’s what will happen. Say they already sent someone. Say they’re out on the stoop, and they hear you saying that. What you think they’ll do? Say, ‘Oh, that’s just Princess, she don’t mean it’?”
She looked up at him, her eyes still full of righteous anger.
“You know the game,” said Joker, handing her a towel that had been lying over the back of the couch.
She took it and pressed it to her head, wincing with the pain.
“How much we getting?” said Joker.
“A taste. That’s all I know.”
Disappointment hung in the air, like the stench of rotting garbage.
Joker sank down onto the couch. “We could have had real money.”
Pony held up the gun, butt first. He wasn’t happy about it either. But that was how it worked. “You want a taste of this?” he said to Joker. Their bitching about it was making him even angrier.
Joker didn’t say anything.
“Or maybe you want to go tell them yourself?” Neither of them answered him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“They coming to collect?” said Princess. “Or are we delivering?”
“What you think?” said Pony.
“Why you think I’m asking?” said Princess.
She was something else, thought Pony. He’d just given her two good ones and she was still talking back.
“They’re not going to come here. We’ll have to take them.”
“I’ll do it,” said Princess.
That was okay with Pony. He didn’t like being around La Eme. He would never admit it, but they scared him. They were old school. They’d seen more blood and death than anyone. They were cold. They looked at you with those dead eyes.
“Okay,” said Pony.
“I ain’t going,” said Joker.
“She can’t go on her own,” said Pony.
“Then you go,” said Joker.
“I have to move the car,” said Pony. They’d disabled the tracking devices and stashed them. Today they’d delivered them to the yonque.
“I can do that,” said Joker.
Pony stared at him. He turned the pistol around, spinning it on his finger so that the barrel was facing Joker.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go with Princess.”
Princess got up and started for the door.
“Where are you going?” Pony asked her.
She looked at him, the dirty towel still pressed to her head, blood pouring down her face. “I need to get this looked at.”
“What you gonna tell them?”
She smirked. “That my boyfriend did it. What the hell you care what I tell them?”
“Go clean up first. Joker, you take her.”
“Fine,” said Princess.
With a towel wrapped around her head, Princess climbed into the passenger seat next to Joker. He pulled out onto the street.
“You okay?” Joker asked her.
“I have a headache.”
She rested her face against the window and closed her eyes.
“Don’t tell them I’m your boyfriend, okay?”
She opened her eyes. “If I was straight, I’d have better taste.”
Joker smiled and made a turn onto a cross street. “Screw you.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “This is messed up. We do all the hard work and they take all the money.”
She shrugged. “Always been the same for people like us.”
They lapsed back into silence.
“My papa used to hit my mom,” said Joker.
Princess didn’t say anything to that.
“That’s why I don’t want anyone thinking I’d do something like that.”
“I won’t say anything. Don’t worry.”
He made another turn. Princess sat up straight. She rolled down the window and leaned out, checking the street sign. “This ain’t the way to the emergency room.”
“I know,” said Joker.
She backhanded him in the chest. “What the hell? I need to get this stitched before I bleed to death.”
Joker slowed. He reached down into his pocket, feeling for something. The car wobbled and drifted over the center line. A vehicle coming in the opposite direction honked at him. He threw them the finger and cussed out the other driver. Then he tossed a wallet over the seat and onto Princess’s lap. She picked it up. “Homeboy’s wallet with all his cards. I got his pin number too. Made him tell me. Dumb asshole uses the same number for everything.”
Wide-eyed, Princess began to rifle through the wallet. There were a lot of cards. Bank cards. Credit cards.
Joker turned into a lot. There was a Bank of America dead ahead.
“Pony would lose his shit if he knows we’re doing this,” said Princess.
“How’s he going to find out? How’s anyone going to?”
“You know they can track these cards if we use them, right?” Princess was still nervous. They could make some money, and she liked that idea, but it was risky.
“So, what do we care?” said Joker. “You heard Pony, right? They’re not staying with us after today. Even if the Five-O track us down, what are they going to find? Nothing. The cars will be gone.”
He reached back and pulled up the hood he was wearing. He lowered the sunglasses that had been resting on top of his head. “Wasn’t me, Officer.”
Princess laughed. “You got it all figured out.”
“Come on, let’s go get ourselves a taste. Least we’ll have something to show for all this work.”
Princess stood next to the car as Joker walked up to the ATM. It was quiet, no one else waiting to use the machine. He cycled through all the cards he could, trying for a thousand dollars and working his way down until he found the maximum amount he could withdraw.
A little old white man parked nearby and waited behind Joker. He started to grow impatient. “Are you going to be long?” Princess heard him ask.
It pissed her off. She walked right up on him. “Screw you, Grandpa. You don’t want to wait, go use another machine.”
He looked at her, the black eye, her bloodied scalp, and walked back to his car.
She moved in closer to Joker. “How much you get?” she asked.
“Keep your head down, dummy. They got a camera up there.”
In the excitement of seeing the machine spit out all those dollars, she had forgotten. She retreated a few steps. “How much?” she repeated.
He fanned out a whole bunch of twenties. “Once we get your head fixed, we should go shopping.”
Princess beamed. She had felt bad about losing Emily. This took the edge off.