CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

“HOW DID YOU get this number?”

But I knew. The FBI had a wiretap on Bobby Ray’s phone. He was president of the Visigoths. Of course they did.

Marie came around the bed and grabbed at the phone. I dodged her and said, “Babe, it’s the FBI.”

She froze. Fear filled her face. She looked to the hotel room door as if at any second it would come down under the force of a ram. She ran the short distance to the window and looked down at the street.

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s Dan.”

“Dan Chulack? How’d he get Drago’s number?” She ran back, crawled across the bed, and put her ear to the phone next to mine. Drago backed to the wall and looked on. He didn’t like the sound of the letters FBI, and he had to be fighting the urge to do something. With him it was never flight, it was always fight. Right now he had nothing to fight, a dog without his bone.

Dan said, “You there, Bruno?”

“Yeah, good to hear from you, Dan. It’s been a long time. How can I help you?”

“Not on the phone. I’ll meet you across the street at the mall, by the train.” He clicked off.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The world swerved as it took a moderate curve around a long, slow bend. I put my hand to my head to steady my ship.

“No, you’re not going anywhere. You heard what the doctor said.”

“Sweetie, the FBI knows we’re holed up in this hotel. If I don’t go down there, they’ll have no choice but to come kick down our door with a warrant. This was a courtesy call Dan just gave me.”

“You mean, you think he’s going to arrest you?”

I stood and went to the closet for some pants, a shirt, and my spare set of shoes. “No, if he intended to take me in, he would’ve just said to come down to the lobby. He wants something from me.”

“What could he possibly want?”

“He wants a piece of Bobby Ray.”

“Who’s Bobby Ray?”

“The president of the Visigoths.”

“Ah, Bruno, what have you gone and stuck your big nose into this time?”

I dressed, with one hand on the closet for support. I brought the shoes over, sat on the bed, and put them on. The swelling in my feet still hadn’t subsided, and my own shoes squeezed my dogs.

“Hey,” I said, “you told me you didn’t think my nose was all that large.”

“Bruno?”

“Kid,” I said to her, “really, I was just mindin’ my own business.”

That’s what I’d always say when I was telling her a story from my past just before the shit got heavy.

“Riiight, minding your own business always includes you shooting someone or running them over.”

“Really, what you must think of me.”

I probably never should’ve told her those stories. They occurred so long ago they seemed like they happened to someone else. And more important, I wasn’t that person anymore, not by a long shot.

“I’m going with you,” she said.

“Me, too,” Drago said. He had been standing quietly off to the side watching our interaction. The relationship between Marie and me, for some reason, intrigued him.

My head throbbed, and I didn’t have the gumption left to argue. “Okay, stay way back, though. He knows who you are, what you guys look like, and I don’t know if he’s gonna be alone. I don’t want whoever he’s with to get a good look at you.”

Marie ran to the closet, grabbed some clothes, and ran to the bathroom. I sat on the bed to wait the twenty or thirty minutes she’d just doomed us to. Dan wouldn’t be happy.

“What’s goin’ on?” Drago asked.

“I’m married, that’s what’s goin’ on.”

He nodded with a dumb look on his mug, as if he understood.

He didn’t understand.

image

In the hotel lobby, I told my two shadows to wait five minutes and then follow. Drago went to two men who looked like cops dressed down in civilian clothes and quietly spoke with them.

Outside, I walked with my hand in my pockets, watching the street for a tail. I still hadn’t told Marie about what happened on the freeway. Didn’t have a chance to. Least that’s what I told myself. After the incident happened, that’s all I’d wanted to do. Now the shame of it kept the secret hidden a little longer and made it more difficult by the minute to bring it out to the light of day. I guess I didn’t want her to think poorly of me.

I walked into the open quad area of the crowded upscale mall, home to high-dollar retail stores. A little train made its way around the inside perimeter with children and adults alike onboard. Among the smiling, happy faces, I spotted Supervising Special Agent in Charge Dan Chulack on a bench by the train station. He was alone, eating a large soft pretzel with mustard. The sight of the food made my stomach growl. When had I last slowed down long enough to eat? I stopped at the pretzel cart and purchased one along with an orange soda.

I sat next to him. He wore khaki pants, a salmon-colored collared shirt, and penny loafers. I’d never realized Dan’s fashion sense remained stuck in the seventies. Even so, he still fit in nicely. I didn’t detect a hidden gun, so he must have agents out and about backing his play. I couldn’t see his eyes through his designer sunglasses.

“Good seeing you, Bruno. What happened to you? You grab onto a tiger’s tail again?”

I took a bite and chewed, ignored his comment, took a drink of soda. The orange bubbles eased the nausea in my stomach, a little. The sugar gave me the rush I needed. “What’s goin’ on, Dan?”

“You kind of stumbled into our high-profile investigation, that’s what’s going on.”

“That right?”

“That’s right.”

We both chewed our pretzels and people-watched for a moment.

Drago and Marie went into a store close by that sold only purses. An entire store that just sold purses. I hoped Drago didn’t tell her about the bag of money.

Drago stood out like a blimp among toy balloons. Security had already keyed on him as trouble. Two uniformed security guards stood by a decorative light post, watching him through the store window, ready to pounce. They just didn’t realize that if it came to pouncing, they’d need four or five more beefy dudes if they wanted to have any chance at all.

“What investigation is that, Dan?”

He got up. “Let’s walk.” He wadded up his wrapper and headed to a trash can. I followed, still eating.

We walked the perimeter along the train rail and among the shoppers going about their business. A weekday. Didn’t anyone work for a living anymore?

Dan finally spoke. “You know I can’t tell you about it.”

“Then what am I doing here?”

He stopped and gave me the mirrored-sunglasses routine. “But that’s exactly what I want you to tell me. What the hell are you doing here?”

“We can play this stupid game all day. Or I show you mine, you show me yours.”

He didn’t smile. He just looked away, thinking about it, and after a moment nodded. “Okay, some of it, but not all of it.”

I chuckled. “What, this about national security or some shit like that?”

He looked back at me, took his sunglasses off.

I said, “Ah, shit.”