Warpath

I tell him. When I’m done he says, “Keep your head down low, brother.”

“Sure. One thing. I need a favor.”

“Not a problem.”

“I need you to have a records dump for Joe & Barry’s Family Pawn. It’s south of the river. If you can, give me a work-up on anybody who turns up connected to the place.”

“You think either Joe or Barry is connected to Petticoat?”

“Don’t know. That is the pawnshop Mickey Cantu would use as a fence. It’s what he knew, so I imagine he went back there to get them prepped for that deal.”

“I’ll go with you on that one.” I hear Clevenger sigh and think for a second. “You’ll need this secretary. If for nothing else, she can identify your rapist. Open and shut then.”

It’s my turn to sigh and think for a second. “She’s dead. You know that, right?”

“I don’t want to know it.”

“We need to find her, but she might not even be with the guy. For all we know she’s in the building, still smoldering under a collapsed ceiling,” I say.

“I don’t know which would be worse,” Clevenger says.

“I do.”

Clevenger and I say our goodbyes and hang up. I get in my car. Light a smoke. Pull out and drive down the road. I need to get to this building Candy man told me about.

Half way to the building my cell rings. Unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Dick,” that mix of reptilian and queer comes crawling back across the line. “Would you like to retrieve the secretary?”

“Yes.” I pull over and listen intently. Any background noise on the phone, any clue or hint as to where he is. “Let her go.”

“I want a hand-off. Face to face, so I may look in your eyes instead of looking down at you passed out, drunk and soaked in vomit.”

“Name it. I’ll be there.”

“The Old Cecil’s Bar. Ten minutes. No cops.”

“I’ll be there.”

“If I even think a cop is around, she’s dead. Her guts will spill out onto the sidewalk like I was kicking over a bucket. I will disappear forever. Do you understand my orders?” Orderzzzzzzzzzz.

“Of course.”

“Don’t be stupid, Dick. I’m better than you. You’ll always do well to remember that.”

“You’re far more arrogant than me for sure, and I’m pretty fucking arrogant.” I crush out my smoke on the dash and set my mind to doing the same to him. “Ten minutes. Is she hurt?”

Click. Silence.

I call Clevenger.

“What’s up, buddy?” he says.

“Rapist called. Wants to hand-off the girl at the Old Cecil’s Bar in ten minutes. Said no cops.”

“Well of course, no cops. I’ll call dispatch and get our ball rolling. PD will stay away then. I’d hate to not let him call the shots.”