Close Out (12 page)

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Authors: Todd Strasser

BOOK: Close Out
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“Fuck 'em,” Curtis muttered from inside.

Kai turned away from the door and pulled open a drawer behind the counter. Inside lay a jumble of mixed-up keys. Kai looked up at the guys. “What room do you usually stay in?”

“Twenty-three,” said the blond one.

Kai sorted through the keys and found #23. “That'll be forty-five bucks.”

“We pay when we check out,” said the dark-haired one.

“Not this time,” said Kai.

The two guys shared a look. The blond one shrugged. “Go ahead, pay him.”

The dark-haired guy peeled off two twenties and a five. Kai handed over the key. “You guys don't mind jellyfish, do you?”

“Clear ones or bluish with tendrils?” asked the blond guy.

“Mostly clear,” said Kai.

“Pain in the ass, but that's life,” the blond guy said.

“Good, see you at Screamers tomorrow,” Kai said.

The dark-haired guy made a face. “That break's owned by the locals.”

“Not anymore,” said Kai. “And definitely not when the jellyfish are around.”

The thin blond guy with the tousled hair gave Kai a curious look, as if maybe he wasn't so full of shit after all. “Okay, thanks.”

Both guys went back out. Kai tried the door to Curtis's apartment. It opened, but the room inside was dark. No surf videos on the TV. Kai stood in the doorway and waited for his eyes to adjust. The room smelled faintly of body odor and rotting garbage. Kai had the feeling Curtis had been in here for days. He could barely make out the form of Curtis sitting on the couch.

“Kind of dark in here, isn't it?” Kai asked.

“Metaphor for my life,” Curtis answered.

“Is that what they mean by self-pity?” Kai asked.

“Fuck off and leave me alone.”

“I've got some money for you,” Kai said. “It's not much, but I'd guess every little bit helps.”

Curtis didn't reply.

“Come on, old man.”

“I've hit rock bottom, grom. There ain't no where to go. The Feds are gonna make me sell this place for back taxes. Imagine getting to this point in your life and you don't have squat.”

“What about the tax attorney?” Kai asked.

“He helped, but this place is going just the same.”

“But you always knew you'd give it up someday, didn't you?” Kai asked.

“Sure I did,” Curtis said. “Just like I know I'll die someday. Only that don't make it any easier when the time comes.”

“Well, you may not have this place much longer, but I can show you something you didn't know you had,” Kai said.

“What's that?”

“You have to come see for yourself.”

Curtis didn't budge. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about showing you something you'll be glad to see.”

“A treasure chest filled with gold?”

“Not quite.”

“Then I ain't interested.”

“Believe me, old man, you will be.”

“Don't play games with me, grom. The fuse is short and the powder exceedingly dry.”

“Trust me.”

“Trust you? What's that supposed to mean?”

“Why don't you give it a chance and come see?”

It wasn't easy, but Kai finally got Curtis off the couch and through the door. When they stepped outside into the low, orange, predusk sunlight, the older man stopped and shielded his eyes with his hands. “Lord, it's bright out here.”

“The sun's going to be down in twenty minutes,” Kai said.

“It always this bright this late?” Curtis asked.

“Only when you haven't left your apartment for two days,” Kai said.

“We goin' far?”

“Couple of blocks.”

Curtis took a step and almost stumbled off the walk. Kai grabbed his arm and steadied him.

“Maybe we ought to take a cab,” Curtis muttered.

“The walk'll do you good.”

“A shot of JD would do me better.”

“I think you've had enough of those for now,” Kai said.

But Curtis shook his arm free. “What are you, my nursemaid?” He started off with a determined limp. Kai stood still behind him. “Uh, Curtis?”

The older man stopped and spun around. “What now?”

“Wrong direction.” Kai pointed in the other direction.

“Well, you should have said so.” With equal determination Curtis started back. They walked though town and stopped outside L. Baiter & Son.

“We're here,” Kai said.

Curtis looked up at the funeral home. “Has my time come, oh angel of death?”

“Not quite.”

“You sure you're not the grim reaper disguised as a grom?”

“Pretty sure,” Kai said. “Let's go around to the back.”

“Whoa.” Curtis didn't move. “We ain't really goin' in there are we?”

“We are if you want to see what I've got for you.”

“Let me guess, a new body to replace this piece of junk?”

“Sorry.”

“Darn.” Curtis started to walk, then stopped. “Wait a minute. You ain't gonna perform one of those operations where they drain out all your blood and replace it with other
stuff like they did to Keith Richards, are ya?”

“Who's Keith Richards?” Kai asked.

“Christ,” Curtis grumbled. “Make me feel old, why don'tcha?”

They went around to the back. Kai noticed that the hearse had all new shiny black tires. He rang the bell. Footsteps came down the stairs and Bean opened the door.

“Hey, Kai,” he said. It wasn't the warmest greeting Kai had ever received, but he couldn't blame Bean for being a little ticked off.

“This where you live?” Curtis winced, obviously grossed out by the idea that Bean lived with dead people.

“Look at it this way,” Bean said. “My roommates are really quiet and they never steal any of my stuff out of the refrigerator.”

“That is sick,” Kai said.

But Curtis grinned. “I like it.”

“We're here so Curtis can see what we've got for him,” Kai said, winking quickly at Bean to warn him not to give away their secret.

“Oh, yeah,” Bean said. “I can see why he might be interested.”

“So, is this a good time?” Kai asked.

“Well, the body's not quite ready,” Bean said.

“What the hell?” Curtis blurted out. “Body? I don't want to see no damn body.”

“You sure?” Kai asked him.

Curtis hesitated. “Well, not unless it's Buzzy Frank's. But the last I heard he was alive and well and counting his money.”

“I guess now's as good a time as any,” Bean said, and held open the door for them to go in.

Kai went in, but Curtis didn't move. “Somethin' about this don't feel right.”

“Hey, old man, you really think I'd do anything bad to you?” Kai asked.

Curtis let out a major sigh and went in. Bean led them downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs he turned on the hall light. To the right was the embalming room. To the left was the dressing room.

Bean was just about to lead them into the dressing room when Kai caught sight of what was on the embalming table and got an idea.

“Aren't we going this way?” Kai gestured toward the embalming room.

“What?” Bean scowled.

Kai made a face indicating that Bean should just go along and not ask questions. Bean rolled his eyes as if to say,
“Okay, but I'm
getting tired of going along with these crazy ideas of yours.”

Lying on his back on the embalming table was the corpse of a large man with a big belly, heavy limbs, and several chins. His gray skin looked waxy.

“This the one who died from cirrhosis of the liver?” Kai asked Bean.

“This is what you dragged me all the way here to see!” Curtis practically bellowed. “Some fricken dead guy who died from drink? You think this is gonna scare me off booze. Who the hell do you think you are? If I want to drink myself to death, I got every fricken right to do it!”

He turned and stormed back toward the hall. Kai could see he'd made a mistake. “That's not what I brought you down here to see,” he said.

“Screw you!” Curtis yelled.

“I swear.”

“You can go to hell.”

It was clear to Kai that nothing he could say would change the old man's mind. He turned and looked to Bean for help.

“There is something else,” Bean said, reaching for the door to the dressing room.

Curtis paused and studied him.

“This you really will want to see,” Bean said, reaching into the room and flicking on the light.

Curtis stepped to the doorway and peeked in. “Oh, my lord,” he mumbled.

Eighteen

Y
ou would have thought Curtis had just found a long lost brother. He stepped close to the boards and ran his fingers over them, like he wasn't sure he could trust his eyes. The gratitude he was feeling seemed to spill out of him and fill the room. Kai would have sworn the place warmed up a few degrees.

“There's one we lost,” he said.

“The Yater.” Curtís had already noticed. “It's okay, grom. Believe me, it's more than okay.” He stood there among the caskets and stared at his boards for a long time. Then he turned to Kai and Bean. “How?”

Kai shook his head. “Doesn't matter.”

“Does to me,” Curtis said. “You know who took them?”

“Not quite.”

Curtis frowned. “Then how'd you find them? Aw, forget it. You don't want to tell me, you don't have to. You boys want to give me a hand gettin' them back to my place?”

“Not just yet,” Kai said.

“Huh?”

“We still need 'em for something,” Kai said. “But I promise you will get them back soon.”

“You realize these are my boards, and if I want 'em I can take 'em right now?” Curtis asked.

“I wouldn't,” Kai said. “Really, old man, it's important.”

A crooked smile appeared on Curtis's face. “Boy, you are some piece of work. Okay, I guess since you got these boards back, it behooves me to let you play with ‘em a bit longer.”

Curtis backed out of the room and Bean turned off the light. Kai thought they were going to head back up the stairs, but Curtis went toward the embalming room and stopped a few feet away from the stiff lying on the embalming table.

“What'd he really die of?” he asked.

Bean went over to the table. “I don't remember what they said, but I doubt it was a disease like cirrhosis or cancer. Those ones usually waste away. This guy looks like he went pretty fast. Since there's no visible trauma, if I had to guess, I'd go with a heart attack. Although a stroke or aneurysm is always a possibility.”

“How about suicide?” Curtis asked.

Bean gave the body a closer look, then shook his head. “I've only seen a few. It's a funny thing, but they never look like they're at peace, even here. See how peaceful this guy looks?”

“Yeah.” Curtís rubbed his palm along his grizzled jaw. “Son of a gun not only looks peaceful, he looks younger than me.”

Bean picked up a blue folder and opened it. “Sixty-three.”

“Hell, that's ten years older,” Curtis grumbled.

Kai was tempted to suggest that maybe the stiff had been kinder to his body over the years, but he quickly thought better of it. Curtis would no doubt come to the same conclusion.

“Well, may he rest in peace,” Curtis said.

“Actually, he's going to rest in a six-thousand-dollar Persian bronze continuous-weld casket with swing bar hardware, champagne velvet interior and locking mechanism,” Bean read.

“Locking mechanism?” Curtís raised an eyebrow. “In case he decides he wants out?”

“Or someone wants in,” Bean said, closing the folder. “There are some pretty strange folks out there.”

“I think I've seen—and heard—enough.” Curtís started for the stairs.

Kai held the back door open for the older man.

“You staying here tonight?” Curtis asked.

Kai nodded.

“It's always nice to have another live body around,” Bean joked. “Keeps things balanced.”

“Son, I always thought you were a bit strange, but now you're bordering on scary,” Curtis said.

“We couldn't have gotten those boards back without him,” Kai said.

“Then let me shake your hand.” Curtis started to offer his hand, then stopped. “You didn't, uh, touch our friend down there, did you?”

“Never without gloves,” Bean said.

“Okay.” Curtis and Bean shook hands. “Thanks, Bean. You don't know how much it means to me.”

“No sweat,” said Bean.

Curtís turned to Kai. “And thank you, grom.”

“Think you can make it back to the motel okay?” Kai asked.

“I ain't dead yet.” Curtis left, and Kai and Bean went up to Bean's apartment. Bean put on a CD. “Why do I suddenly think that not giving Curtis back the boards has something to do with getting the proof that Big Dave was the one who took them?”

“Uh, maybe 'cause you're smart?” Kai guessed.

“There's just one thing we must agree on, my friend,” Bean said. “We are not going to have a parade of people coming through this place to look at those boards, got it? My parents will throw a total fit. Curtis was the last one.”

Kai nodded. He'd noticed on Bean's desk a copy of the entry form for the Northeast Championship and picked it up.

“What do you think?” Bean asked.

Kai shrugged. “Can't decide, but something weird happened at Pete's tonight. Lucas said his father will pay for me to enter.”

“What a jerk,” Bean said.

“Lucas or Buzzy?” Kai asked.

“Buzzy,” said Bean. “Don't you see? Buzzy's doing a head trip on his own son.”

“Lucas knows why he's doing it,” Kai said. “He's trying to get him motivated.”

“Okay, but if Lucas isn't that motivated to begin with, doesn't that tell you something?” Bean replied.

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