Greenmantle (31 page)

“Well, I’m not waiting here.”

Bannon shook his head as Valenti started to get up. “Someone’s got to stay here in case Ali shows, remember?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let me handle this, Tony. I mean, what did I come up here for? To take hikes in the woods?”

“Sure. It’s okay. You’re more mobile than me. I can understand that.”

Bannon smiled. “Hey, I know how you feel about this woman, Tony. I’m not going to put the make on her.”

“What do you mean you know how I feel?”

“Hey, if you don’t know, you must be the only one.”

“C’mon,” Valenti said. “What am I doing—mooning over her?”

“No. But you get a soft look in your eye whenever she’s in the room.”

“Fercrissakes, the next thing is you’ll have me married off like some kind of—”

“I’ve got to go,” Bannon said. “We can talk about this later, if you want.”

Valenti nodded. He watched Bannon check the clip on his automatic, then thrust the gun back into his jacket pocket. “Take care,” he said.

Bannon glanced at him. “Always,” he said, then the door closed behind him.

Jesus, Valenti thought. The whole world was falling apart. He got up to stand at the window, but then the phone rang again. He started for it, favoring his bad leg.

* * *

As soon as they were outside, Sherry turned to Howie. “Okay. What’s the story?”

“What’s your problem, Sherry? All of a sudden you’re—”

She cut him off. “Look. Hanging around with Steve, I’ve run into a few things. Some dope dealing, sometimes things that get a little heavy and someone’s got to get patched up, but I don’t want to be any part of this shit—do you understand me?”

“Sure. But—”

“This Earl she mentioned—is that the same guy that came by with you last night?”

Howie nodded. “Yeah. But it’s not like what you’re thinking.”

“No? What do you call snatching somebody’s kid?”

“She
owes
him fercrissakes. She’s sitting on so much money…” His voice trailed off as she shook her head.

“You just can’t leave her alone, can you?” she said.

“What’re you talking about? You don’t even know this fucking woman!”

“But I know this old story, Howie. How come the woman always owes something? What’s with you guys anyway? Where do you come off thinking that anything with breasts and a vagina automatically owes you
anything
?”

“Hey, now wait a minute. This afternoon… It wasn’t me that started, you know, fooling around.”

Sherry regarded him steadily. “What’s the matter, Howie? You can’t even come out and say it?”

“Well, sure. But—”

“This afternoon was a bit of fun. I was in the mood to make somebody happy, and that’s all. It sure as hell didn’t mean that I’d stand around while assholes like you and Earl take Frankie for a ride.”

“You don’t want to shoot off your mouth like that,” Howie blustered. “Earl hears you, he’ll…”

“He’ll what?” Sherry asked.

There was a moment’s silence. This wasn’t going right at all, Howie thought. He looked at Sherry, thinking about how it had been this afternoon. Now she was saying it was like she’d been feeling sorry for him or something. Like he couldn’t get himself a piece of tail whenever he wanted. And she didn’t know Earl. Earl’d just punch out her lights before listening to her lip.

“What’ll Earl do?” Sherry repeated.

“I’d be real interested in hearing about that, too,” a new voice said.

The two of them stared at the newcomer. He’d come so silently across the lawn that neither of them had heard him approaching.

“Who the fuck are you?” Howie demanded, trying to cover his nervousness with bravado.

Bannon studied the two of them. He’d come in at the end of their argument, but he’d caught enough to get an idea as to who and what they were talking about.

“I’m here to see Frankie,” he said. “The name’s Tom Bannon. What happened here?”

“It’s a little complicated,” Sherry said.

“Well, how’s Frankie?”

“She’s fine. No, that’s not right. She’s taking it pretty good, but she’s still suffering from a mild state of shock.”

“What happened to her?”

“Someone attacked her. We were just driving by and scared the guy off, but she’s still a bit shaken up.”

Bannon’s gaze went to Howie, but Sherry shook her head.

“No,” she said. “That’s one thing I doubt he had anything to do with.”

“Hey,” Howie said. “I don’t need to take this kind of shit. If you—”

“Get out of my way,” Bannon said as he mounted the stairs. “I want to see Frankie.”

Howie moved aside. He glared at the man, then at Sherry. The fuckers. He was getting sick and tired of being pushed around. You took a whole lifetime of it, but you had to stand up sometime. Maybe now—what with his shoulder hurting and the fact that he’d lost his gun—maybe he had to hold off for now. But he was going to get even. With all of them.

He met Sherry’s gaze before she followed Bannon inside. Especially with you, sister, he thought. Christ, he wished Earl were here. Earl’d show them all. They wouldn’t be talking like this if Earl were around. They’d all be standing in a line, waiting to suck his dick. They’d do whatever Earl told them to do.

The door closed behind Sherry, but Howie didn’t bother following them in. He stood outside, listening to the night. He kept thinking that he was hearing snatches of that weird music, but just when he’d start to listen for it, it would disappear like it had never been.

That music did something to him. It made him feel strong and scared at the same time. Like something was going to hunt him down, but like he could be the hunter if he just stopped being so shit-assed scared of his own shadow. He wondered if he could find the spot where he’d dropped his gun last night. He wondered if it’d still be there.

Glancing at the house, he strode off into the night. He’d feel a lot better with that hunk of steel in his hand.

* * *

“Tony?” a man said when Valenti picked up the phone. There was something odd about the voice, like it was being run through electronics to disguise it.

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“That’s not important. Thing is, Mario wants to know—what’s the bottom line on this deal? Someone comes sniffing around, do we send them home in a box, or what?”

“No one’s got to die on account of me,” Valenti said.

“Yeah, but if it comes down to it… Say the Don sends in Fucceri or one of the other heavy guns. There’s not going to be much chance for conversation, you know? What do you want? Just some time, or are you staying here?”

“I’m staying.”

“Then it’s going to be a war—you know that, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Valenti said. “But I don’t feel good about it.”

“Yeah. Who needs it?”

“Did Mario have his meet with the Magaddinos?”

“Yeah. He talked to Broadway Joe.”

“And?”

“Joe said he was calling it off,” the voice said. Before Valenti could relax, it added: “But he sent in his kid Louie and Johnny Maita.”

“Shit. So that’s it then.”

“’Fraid so, Tony. Listen, I’ll be in touch. You had visitors tonight, by the way. I caught Louie Fucceri casing the place, but I let him go till I had a chance to talk to you. So maybe you better be careful.”

“I get the picture.”

“Glad to hear that.
Coraggio,
Tony.”

“Sure.”

Valenti cradled the phone. Christ, they’d already been here. That fast. So what had stopped them? What were they waiting for? And who the hell did Mario have out in the bush watching out for him?

* * *

Howie couldn’t believe his luck. First pass out, taking an easy amble along the road leading up to Valenti’s, sticking to the grass verge and trying to remember where the stag had hit the car, and then he just about kicks his piece into the woods. He bent down and picked the gun up. The weight in his hand made him feel better immediately. That was the thing about a gun. When you carried one, people respected you. They just didn’t fuck around when they were looking down that metal bore.

He’d have to be careful firing the sucker, seeing how his shoulder wasn’t in any shit-hot shape yet. Maybe he’d be better off using it left-handedly. He transferred the gun to that hand. It felt a little awkward, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t like he was going target shooting. Anything he’d be firing at would be just a couple of feet away from him.

Unloading the gun—two spent shells and four unfired that he didn’t want to take a chance on, given how they’d been lying out in the rain—he tossed the contents of its cylinder into the bush and loaded it with some fresh shells he had in his pocket. All right, Mr. Cool-talking Tom Bannon. And you, too, Sherry. Time for you to kiss the gun.

Grinning, he started back for Frankie’s place.

* * *

Bannon nodded a greeting to Lisa, then went down on one knee in front of the chair where Frankie was sitting.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Tony wanted to come down, but I talked him out of it. His leg’s giving him some trouble.”

“He’s all right, though?”

“Oh, sure.”

Frankie looked past Bannon’s shoulder, then her gaze returned to his face. “Where’s Ali?”

“Well, you know, we weren’t sure what was going down, so we didn’t think she should come. Besides, with what your friend here tells me, maybe it’d be a good idea if you spent another night up at Tony’s.”

Right now, Bannon didn’t trust anyone. There’d be time enough to tell Frankie about Ali once she was up at the house.

“I’m so tired of having to always depend on somebody else,” Frankie said.

“I know what you mean,” Bannon said. “But what the hell—it’s just for the night. Until we can figure out what went down and what we can do about it.”

“I wanted to call the police.”

“Well, I don’t know what they could do for you at this point, but maybe it’s not so bad an idea.”

“But Lisa and Sherry said I shouldn’t—that they’d just give me a hard time.”

Thank you, ladies, Bannon thought. “Listen,” he said. “Why don’t you just grab a few things and I’ll walk you up to the house, okay? We can talk it all out there.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Sherry said.

Lisa shook her head. “My turn.”

Sherry turned to Bannon after the two women went upstairs to pack some toothbrushes and the like. “Want to split a joint?”

“No thanks. I don’t smoke.” He followed her outside and stood on the porch while she lit up, wrinkling his nose as the sweet marijuana smoke drifted toward him.

“You disapprove?” she asked.

“No. I’m just not big on sucking any kind of smoke into my body.” He paused a moment, studying the dark lawn and the road beyond. “What happened?” he asked finally. “How bad did it get?”

Sherry explained briefly, but with enough detail to make Bannon’s eyes flash with anger.

“Wish I’d been here,” he said. “I’d have…” He shook his head. Tony was going to be pissed. Christ,
he
was pissed. “So she didn’t know the guy?” he asked.

“Nope. He was driving a beat-up old pickup, but none of us was together enough to take down the plates.”

“And you folks were just driving by?”

Sherry nodded. “Maybe you should know something else. Howie—the guy that I was talking to when you arrived? Well, he’s involved with Frankie’s ex. He got shot last night. I think they were trying to snatch her kid.”

Who got snatched by a buck deer and a girl with horns instead, Bannon thought. “Where do you fit in?”

“Earl and Howie showed up at a little party up near Calabogie—that was the first time either of us met them. It’s beginning to look now like it was a mistake.”

Bannon nodded. “You’d better watch out for them—especially Earl. From what I hear, he doesn’t mess around. He plays for keeps.”

“Oh, that’s just great.” Sherry studied him for a moment, then took a long drag from her joint. “I think we’re going to split—Frankie’s going to be all right with you, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Thanks for what you did.”

“Sure.” Sherry looked over to Lisa’s car, “Wonder what happened to Howie.”

“Maybe he went for a walk.”

Sherry smiled humorlessly. “Maybe we’ll just leave without him.”

The door opened behind them and Lisa and Frankie stepped outside. Lisa shut off the lights and locked the door while Bannon took the small Adidas bag from Frankie.

“If we don’t see you again, take care,” Sherry said as she started for the car.

“We’ll do that,” Bannon replied.