In the House On Lakeside Drive (9 page)

“Gimme somethin' with a beat any day.” A pile of prescription bottles lay in one corner of the drafty room, untouched. “The hell did Dayton want those for?”

Charlie shrugged. “Needs a fix, maybe? Who knows?”

“Those aren't for a fix,” Dayton called out from the tiny closet that served as a bathroom. “Though I sure as hell need one. No, gentlemen,
those
are how we're going to fund the next stage of the operation.”

Riley eyed the thin man, his stomach turning. “If you fuckin' tell me you're plannin' on sellin' to kids, I'm out. I done a lot of shit, and I'll
do
a lot of shit, but I got standards.”

Charlie stared, silently agreeing with his kin.

“No kids. That town over, North Kingston? It's big enough to find someone discreet.” The Southerner picked up a bottle and threw it at Riley. “That there? Full bottle of amphetamine salts, and not generic ones at that. Going rate per pill is easily a hundred bucks.”

Riley looked at the bottle. “You mean I'm holding three grand here?”

“Yep.” He tossed Charlie one. “Alprazolam. Maybe fifty per. It's half empty.”

“Shit.”

“There's a fortune to be made in the secondhand pill trade. Long as you're not terribly picky about your clients, and they've got the cash.” He laid out the rest of the hoard. “Looks like we've got a couple antidepressants—good sellers—and some heavy-duty ibuprofens. The oddball shit might snag a few bucks, but the Adderall and the Xanax, those are your big money.” Dayton smiled a half smile. “And wouldn't you know, our friend Liam liked both of those.”

“So the guy had a pill problem. We know. How does that help
us
?” Riley was beginning to get irritated, and the wind snaking through his beaten hoodie wasn't helping matters.

“I knew clients who would knock over their granny's medicine cabinets to get their fixes. Usually about the time they came looking for someone like me. But Liam…he had the whole candy store at his fingertips, and he came looking for me anyway. Know why?”

“No, but I'm sure you'll enlighten us.”

“Bastard was a junkie with a
conscience.
He could have skimmed a few pills from the pharmacy, but no, not Liam. He came to me so he wouldn't get caught. And when
I
had a small supply problem, d'you think he'd help?”

Charlie snorted. “Goin' with ‘no,' here.”

“Wouldn't lift a finger. And he was in debt to me too, about a grand.” The sound of a pill bottle tapping against the newer, thicker card table grated on the cousins' ears. “And then there was what happened next.”

“So,” Riley said, eager to change the subject. “Phase two.”

Dayton snapped out of his train of thought. “Phase two involves me moving this stuff and getting us a better place. One with a basement. Preferably in the middle of nowhere.”

“Easy enough. Me an' Charlie'll go scouting. You want one close by or out a ways?”

“Nothing close by. I don't want the brats getting help so easy, should it all go to shit.”

“You assume it'll all go to shit,” Charlie said. “Not very optimistic of you.”

The wiry man glared. “I had optimism once. Look where it got me.”

“Well, you did get this op rollin'. Put the fear of God in those kids, too.”

Dayton mulled on that a minute. “The younger two, they'll be a little easier. That older kid, though…he might cause a problem.”

“White Eyes is gonna have to ‘lose' that stick of his, once we get 'em,” Riley added. “You didn't see him with it that day in the yard. And from what he and his friend were saying, he practices with it regularly.”

“Do we know where?”

Cold shoulders shrugged, and Riley wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to keep warm. “I can follow 'im one night. Thursday nights, it usually is.” Dayton nodded, more to appease the paranoid Riley than to agree with his assessment of their quarry. “Do that. What about the ball of fun?”

Charlie drummed his hands on the table. “I still say he'll be a handful, but he scares easy. Look at the other night. I watched the whole thing from outside the windows. Kid shut up, followed directions, and had eyes wider than the Grand Canyon. I'm tellin' ya, complete one-eighty from when I watched him out and about. Hell, I wanted to deck the kid
then
. Imagine after the shock wears off.”

“We'll need something secluded, like woods and stuff. No farm fields—too easily seen. Country, not city. Basement is a priority. And some good doors with locks.”

“Right, basement, we could fix it up a little. Given our sudden windfall, we could do it right.” Riley's eyes gleamed at the thought of carrying out the next steps.

“Hey, which kid had the crazy relative?” Charlie asked.

“Not sure. If I had to guess, either the ball of fun or the older kid.”

“Find out. I'd like to start leaving a trail toward that guy being the mastermind here, not us.”

Riley nodded. He picked up a different iPod and flipped it on, the sounds of alternative music springing forth from its speakers. “Now,
that's
more like it,” he said as he reached for the car keys. “Something with a beat…”

Chapter 12

“There's no need to rush, my boy,” Frank Parker said as he eyed the sets of baggage being brought into his living room. “You know you are all more than welcome here.”

“I know, Frank, but the sooner we get set up at home again, the better. I know Remy's not sleeping, and if Sam knocks over one more thing it might be something we can't replace.”

“Lad gets around well for not seeing anything. And anyway, I hated that old pot. Belonged to Lola's sister Nancy, and while she was a lovely woman, she couldn't pick art to save her arse.” The wry grin in the old man's face made his eyes twinkle, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Yeah, it
was
pretty ugly. Still…”

Frank brushed it off. “At least stay for dinner,” he said. “Lord knows you won't be cooking much once you get back, at any rate.”

“I'm dreading the cleanup,” Rachel said. “It looked like a war zone.”

“I still can't figure out why,” the Englishman said. “Breaking and entering is one thing, petty theft…but from the way the lads talked, it sounds like they were looking for something.”

Evan shrugged as he fell into an overstuffed armchair near the dining room entrance. “God only knows what. Even I can't figure that out. Honestly, there's nothing special about any of the stuff in the house, aside from Sam's adaptive equipment. And really, that's only useful to another blind person.”

“Electronics are easy to fence, Evan. Surely you know that.”

“I'm surprised
you
know that, Frank.”

The older man sat down in a high-backed chair, turning it from the dining room table toward the living room to face his guest. “Like I said before, I know a thing or two about secrets. I can certainly tell you, as a lad who came from nothing, I couldn't afford a ticket to America doing things solely on the up and up. And for certain the pawn brokers in my old neighborhood weren't as fair as the ones you see now on the telly.”

“You were a thief?”

Frank raised his hands in a mock surrender. “I merely…borrowed. From some unsavory sorts. Nothing that was readily missed, but…”

Evan shook his head. “I never would have guessed.”

“My boy, why do you think I went into service shortly after I got my papers? Granted, the sixties wasn't the
best
time to get patriotic, but it did pay for me to go to law school.” He sighed. “Do you think less of me, now that you know?”

“No. But I see why you value honesty so much.”

“There are times in life where the world needs to be in shades of gray. Even I know that. But, given today's standards…honesty really is the best policy. Even if you lose some face or standing along the way.”

“You were right, you know.”

“About?”

Now it was Evan's turn to sigh. “I did some things…before, when I was in college. I'm not proud of them, but I managed not to let them get worse. I made some enemies. When Remy said it was a Southern voice, taunting them that night, I started to wonder.”

“This is from home, then? Where you're from?”

Evan snorted. “Carolina was never really home. Pretty place, nice weather, but not
home.
” He looked at the pile of luggage sitting nearby, articles tossed in whatever knapsack or duffel bag was available. “Here. Here is home. Otter Lake, Rachel's place, being with her and the boys.
That's
home.”

“Still, the question stands. This is from before?”

Evan nodded, a frown crossing a thin face. “I had a friend, grew up with him. He got into pills. Both ends, if you follow me. Made a pretty lucrative business out of selling secondhand.”

“Dangerous game, lad. Very dangerous.”

“I know. Well, let's just say I ended up owing him. He thought a great way to cover my debt would be to help him with a ‘supply problem' he had at the time.”

Green eyes narrowed. “You didn't.”

“No. No, I did not. I brushed him off, tried to talk him out of it. For a while, I thought I did. Then one night I get a phone call telling me to be ready.”

“Evan, what did you do?”

“I ran. I got to the place he wanted to knock over, told them about it. I got lucky; they believed me. Cops were called, and my friend got busted. End of story.”

Frank gave his young friend the once over. “No. That's not all, is it?”

Long fingers fidgeted with a loose tie dangling from the hooded jacket Evan wore. “No. I had to testify in court. My friend swore revenge on me. Usually, you laugh it off—I mean, in the end he was going to prison—but about three weeks later, my place was turned upside down and I was attacked.” Evan craned his neck to show a thin, faded scar running parallel with his jawline. “Another inch closer and I wouldn't be here. I got in the truck and I
ran.
”

The pair sat a long while, taking in what Evan had said. “I haven't told Rachel. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

A scoff shot through a button nose. “Can you imagine
that
conversation? ‘Oh, yeah, babe, by the way, I was popping pills in college to escape my miserable life, and then got caught up in a robbery scheme, and
then
helped put away an irate entitled bastard who had me nearly killed once he figured out he was going to prison?' Sure, Frank,
that's
a conversation that's going to go over well once I give her the engagement ring.”

Frank's eyes widened. “Engagement ring?”

“Yeah. Planning to ask her at Christmas.” Evan sighed. “She's the one. I don't care if I'm living in a shack on the lake or a coastal mansion on the Atlantic, if she's not there, what's the point?”

The old man stood from his chair. “Well, to that end, congratulations on your endeavor, lad. But still, if you think that old shadows are coming back to haunt you, you'd best speak up. Or else you might lose everything all over again. Trust me. When Lola found out about my not-so-stellar career as a youth, I nearly lost her.”

“What changed her mind?”

“She saw what I was…a decent lad who made mistakes, and learned from them. Do yourself a favor, lad, and learn from yours.”

Evan shrugged. “I'm hoping that it was just someone looking for quick cash. I've put a lot of distance between who I was and who I am now. It could just be a coincidence.”

The sound of the front door crashing open stopped Frank from arguing further. “Sorry,” Sam said, his cane swinging in front of him. “That lock is tough.”

“I think I have a can of WD-40 somewhere,” Evan said. “Left one here on purpose for that very reason.” He headed for the door, giving Rachel a kiss on the way out.

“Any luck?” Frank asked, giving each of his guests a hug.

“It looks like they made off with a lot of small electronics, all the kids' mp3 players, and at least one of Sam's laptops. Plus their cash is missing, and Josh and Remy are going to have to replace their flat screen and stereo, respectively.

“And our meds,” Remy said. “They're gone too.”

The Englishman's face pulled into a thoughtful frown. “Your medicines, you say?”

“Well, my Xanax, and Josh's Adderall. There was some other stuff too, like Sam's eye drops, but those were the important ones.”

“And they are a pain in the ass to refill,” Rachel said. “That's what took us so long. Penny and Mark are still over at Hanover's trying to get an emergency supply.”

“I don't wanna think about Josh without meds,” Remy said, shuddering. “Seriously.”