I knew what he was thinking. Probably thought I wouldn’t do it. Not in public like this.
He was very wrong.
I flipped my wrist and the baton extended out with a soft, slick sound. It was a beautiful noise.
Felipe threw the drink tray at my face.
I mostly ducked it. One cup banged against my cheek and I felt soda spill down my shoulder and back. He cursed and turned, trying to run, but too slow. I whipped the baton down low and slapped it into his knee. It crunched like tires over gravel. A painful symphony. He dropped. Thudded against the concrete and screamed in pain. His food bag spilled open.
I got on top of him. Knelt on his throat. He smacked at my leg, eyes bulging, tongue lolling.
“I’ll ask again,” I said, staring into his rotten face. I didn’t have anything in particular against Felipe. He wasn’t lying about what he said. He hadn’t been a part of the coup. He was just a guy taking orders and making money.
But that didn’t mean he was innocent.
“Where’s Clem?”
He gagged something. Choking. Turning pink. I released the pressure enough for him to speak.
“Enid,” he choked. “House on Enid.”
I held tight for another few seconds. Watched him closely. Enid was one of the addresses. I’d checked it out earlier in the day.
I released him and took a step back. An old woman and her husband stood outside of the taco joint, shading their eyes. She had a phone against her ear.
“I’d get new food,” I said as Felipe turned onto his side and gasped for air. “They’ll wonder what happened. Better come up with a reason why you’re limping too.”
“Fuck you, Mal.” He spit. Tears ran down his cheeks. “They’re going to kill you. Keep this up, they’ll get you. Balestra’s on the hunt. Keep this up, man. He’ll find you.”
“Probably.” I turned and walked away. Nodded to the old lady and the old man. She stared at me, frowning. Like I was some local ruffian. I retracted the baton and slipped it away. Got into the Chevy and drove off.
Balestra’s on the hunt.
Once I was a safe distance from Felipe and that taco place, I grabbed my phone.
Cap: Soon?
That was all she’d said.
I typed fast.
Mal: I found Clem but I need to move fast. You need to be careful. Your father might suspect you’re involved.
I hit send and waited.
Sirens blared in the distance. Cops going to the scene of the crime. Poor Felipe would have to deal with their shit.
No reply.
Chapter 17
Mal and Cap
Mal
No answer. Quiet phone. No buzzing, no chirping, nothing. I found the house on Enid and parked halfway down the block. The street was as quiet as my truck. I sat down low and crossed my arms, waiting. Hoped nobody would notice the beat-up state of my poor old girl. Her rear fender was a mess of bullet holes.
It was a nice neighborhood. Not the sort of place I was used to visiting. The same kind of single-family abodes, but bigger. More lawns, fewer rocks. Cars were decent. Sedans, SUVs. A few BMWs and even a Tesla parked conspicuously in front of a house like the owner wanted everyone to see. It wasn’t the kind of place Falsone kept as a safe house.
But Falsone was dead and Balestra was in charge now. Things changed, and I hated change. I could never keep up and never tried. I was old fashioned. Preferred calls to texts. Face to face over either. Carmine used to call me an old man. But I wasn’t old. Just clung to my ways.
Now my world was gone. Killed by Balestra’s ambitions. And I had a job to do.
The house was still. The neighborhood around me was alive, but subdued. Cars came and went. Folks walked down the block with their dogs. An old couple peered in through my window and I waved at them. Gave them a nice, big smile. The old lizards waved back and hurried on their way. I half expected them to call the cops. They didn’t.
The day wore into night. The sunset was beautiful: pinks smeared by purples. Only a few clouds, but those clouds glowed like a masterpiece. I watched it happen until a car rolled into the house’s driveway and a guy got out. I couldn’t recognize him from a distance, but he walked to the door and went inside. I waited longer, until dark fell thick, and the guy left again. The car rolled past me. A simple gray Hyundai. Hatchback. Couldn’t see the driver.
Nothing from Cap.
I tried her again. I couldn’t handle the waiting.
Mal: You good? I’m making a move. Let me know you’re okay.
I sat and waited, feeling pathetic. I never reached out like this before. Never in my life did it matter if someone didn’t text me back right away. But the stakes were too high, and what Felipe said sent a chill down my spine.