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Authors: James L. Weaver,Kate Foster

Poor Boy Road (Jake Caldwell #1) (19 page)

BOOK: Poor Boy Road (Jake Caldwell #1)
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Willie’s gut clenched, and he lowered his head, closing his eyes. Shane said he wasn’t a monster and wouldn’t kill a child, but he expected Willie to.

“You told me to bring her here,” Willie said.

“Yeah, probably not my wisest decision ever,” Shane said. He had the gall to laugh about it. “But it would’ve ended the same anyway. She saw me, you and your crew, the meth and my cook. She’s gotta go.”

Willie drained the rest of the Scotch. He shivered as it scorched its way down through his chest. He had to agree with Shane for now or he’d end up with a couple of bloody stumps for legs. Shane’s phone rang, and Willie jumped.

Shane snatched up the phone on the bar. “Yeah?” His face crunched. “Who? Find him and find out what the hell he’s doing here.” He listened and poured another drink, the confusion turning to anger. “I don’t want your excuses. You’re getting paid to find that shit out. Do it.”

Shane slammed the phone on the bar and threw the Scotch into the back of his throat. He sat on the couch and breathed out.

“Can I count on you to take care of this, Willie?”

“How long do I have?”

“I want you on the road to Kansas City by dark. That gives you a few hours to do what you need to do. You my man, Willie? I have to know if you’re on board.”

“I’m on board, Shane. You can count on me.”

“That’s what I want to hear. You got two hours to prove it to me. You take care of the girl and show me you have a stake in this game, or I’ll kill you both.”

There it was, the ultimatum. As much as it made his skin crawl, Willie shook Shane’s outstretched hand and walked down the hall. Kill sweet little Halle. If he didn’t, Shane or one of his crew would. Shane would kill both Willie and Bennett in the process and start over in Benton County. He stopped in the entry way and called Bennett on his cell, telling him to go to his trailer and bring his stash, his gun and his “hit the road in a hurry” duffel bag he stashed in his closet. He hung up and traced the shadows to Halle’s closed door, feet like lead weights, wondering what in the hell he would do.

CHAPTER FORTY

Jake braced himself against the dash as Bear bounced his truck along the rutted dirt road leading to Willie’s trailer off Poor Boy Road. A few black trash bags adorned the otherwise empty clearing around the mobile home. If not for the fresh bags, one could make the case someone abandoned the dump years ago.

Bear threw the truck in park. “No Shangri-La, is it?” Jake said.

“Hell, this is a pretty nice trailer compared to some of the ones in the back roads around here. He must have some money stashed somewhere because he sure as hell ain’t spending his drug money here.”

“What’s the game plan?”

“I doubt we get this lucky, but let’s make sure Halle isn’t here,” Bear said, opening the door. Jake followed him to the front of the trailer. An uncovered window in the front revealed a dark but neatly maintained living room with a chair, couch and lamp without a shade. Bear pounded on the front door. No answer. He tried the knob, locked.

“Shit,” Bear said.

They split up, walking around either side of the trailer and meeting at the back door set above rotting wood steps. Ratty sheets covered the windows. Jake tried the latch, which was also locked.

“Too bad I’m a cop,” Bear said, eyebrows raised. “Or I would kick the door in.”

“Good thing I’m here.” Jake leaned back and thrust his leg forward. The kick was strong, the door not so much. Jake’s leg burrowed a hole through the center, the momentum propelling him forward, burying his leg to his crotch. Bear almost fell to the ground, doubled over with laughter, hands grasping his knees. Jake joined him.

“That shit never happens in the movies,” Jake said, working his leg back through the hole.

Bear wiped the tears away. “Jesus God, if this wasn’t illegal, I’d snap a picture with my phone.”

“Good thing you’re such a law-abiding officer of the court.”

Jake cleared his leg and reached through the opening. He found the lock and seconds later they were inside Willie’s trailer. A quick search found nothing helpful. The only thing of value was a collection of old vinyl records. Def Leppard, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath. At least Willie had good taste in music.

“That would’ve been too easy, anyway,” Bear said. “Let’s hit the town and find the little douche weasel.”

They started toward the back door when approaching tires crunched over gravel. Their eyes met and they ran to the living room. A beat-up Mazda pulled into the clearing. A young man with chopped, black hair and a few days stubble on his cheeks emerged from the car and stopped, his wary eyes darting between Bear’s truck and the trailer.

“Who’s that?” Jake asked.

“Bennett Skaggs. Dead Howie’s brother and one of Willie’s crew. Let’s get out there before he puts two and two together and bolts. Go out the back. I don’t want him to know we were inside.”

They hustled out the door and trotted alongside the trailer. Jake had to admit Bear still moved pretty well for a big man. By the time they reached the front, Bennett had jumped back into his car and slammed the door shut.

Bear pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the car. “Stop right there, Bennett,” he yelled. Bennett mouthed an expletive and raised his hands.

Seconds later, Bear had him against the car, frisking him. He threw a cell phone, wallet, a pack of smokes and a lighter on to the hood of the car.

“Damn, Bear,” Bennett said. “What’s this about?”

“Shut up,” Bear growled. “Watch him.”

Bear walked back to the open car door and rooted around inside. He paused in the middle of the search and stuck his head out the door.

“Bennett? I got your permission to search your car?”

“Hell, no,” Bennett yelled. Bear looked at Jake who smacked Bennett upside the head.

“How about now?” Bear asked.

“Go to hell,” Bennett said, scowling at Jake.

Jake bounced Bennett’s head off the hood of the Mazda. “We can do this all day long, dickhead.”

“Okay, okay,” Bennett said, wobbling on his feet. “You got my permission.”

“Why thank you for your cooperation. Much appreciated.” Bear laughed and resumed the search.

“You look scared, man,” Jake said.

Bennett’s beady eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Probably the only thing standing between you and an ass kicking of epic proportions.”

“I didn’t do shit,” Bennett said. From the driver’s seat, Bear raised a baggie of red crystals like the ones they found at the cook house. Jake crowded Bennett to keep his eyes away from his car. Bear climbed out empty handed. He walked to Bennett and sandwiched him between he and Jake.

“Where’s Willie?” Bear asked.

“You tell me. I came by to have a beer and say hey.”

“You better not be drinking. You’re barely nineteen.”

“Oh yeah,” Bennett said. “I meant to say I stopped by to have a Coke.”

Bear shot a hand forward and clamped a vise grip on the kid’s face.

“I don’t have time for games. Where’s Willie?”

Bear released the kid’s face, having grabbed his attention.

Bennett rubbed his reddened cheeks. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him in a couple of days.”

“You seen Halle Holden?” Bear asked.

Bennett’s eyes darted between the two of them.

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m askin’ the fuckin’ questions. That okay with you?”

“Just around town, but not in the last couple of days,” Bennett said, rolling his scrawny shoulders. “Definitely not as much as I’d like to.”

Jake resisted the urge to backhand the little shit. Seemed different when the kid talked about his daughter, his personal stakes now totally raised.

“She’s missing,” Bear said.

“That’s what I heard. But, like I said, I ain’t seen her in a couple of days.”

“What about Willie? He seen her?”

“Don’t know that either,” Bennett said. Good try by Bear to trip him up, but the kid didn’t bite. “Like I said, I ain’t seen him for a couple of days.”

“You haven’t seen much of anybody lately, Bennett.”

“Nope, I’ve been a good boy, Sheriff.”

“How about Howie?”

“I haven’t, but I know you have. I heard he got pinched and is sittin’ in your jail cells.”

Bear leaned in close. The kid’s cocky grin faltered and disappeared when Bear spoke again.

“I don’t have Howie in my jail cell anymore. He’s currently resting on a cold slab in the county morgue.”

Bennett’s dark eyes darted between Jake and Bear.

“Bullshit,” he said, though without much conviction.

“No, that’s true shit,” Bear said. “Somebody, and I’m going to take a wild guess you know who, had a guy shove a steel pick into his brain. Howie was dead before he hit the floor.”

“Bull…shit,” Bennett repeated. His eyes took on a faraway gaze of disbelief. He squatted, rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face into his palms. After a moment, Bennett raised his head. The bravado was gone, leaving nothing but tears in the eyes of a scared kid. Jake could empathize and almost felt sorry for him.

“We’re looking for Willie and for Halle. You hear from or see either one of them, you call me.” He tossed a business card on the ground at Bennett’s feet. “Remember, you know who did this. He’s cleaning up loose ends. God help you if you’re one of them.”

Bennett remained by his car as Jake and Bear crossed the clearing and got back in the truck. Bear started it up and rolled back out the drive toward Poor Boy Road.

“I saw the baggie of Devil Ice you raised up,” Jake said. “Better to let him lead you to Willie than to bust him for it.”

“He’s the last lead we got. Besides, Langston would kill him like his brother if I put him in a jail cell.”

“So, are we going to follow him?”

“Nope. Stashed a GPS tracker under his seat. He went to the trailer for a reason. My guess is he’s picking up something for Willie. He’ll mill around town for a bit to make sure we’re not following him, but he’ll find Willie eventually.”

“You’re smarter than you look, you know?”

Bear grinned. “Don’t tell anyone.”

 

                                                        #

 

At high noon, Willie knocked on the door to Halle’s room, still unsure what to tell her. He waited for an answer that didn’t come and went in. Halle lay on the bed, facing away from the door. She looked so helpless. He could just crawl into bed with her and hold her, stroke that beautiful head and tell her everything would be okay. Then, she turned to look at him, and the fear in her eyes blew the fantasy away.

“We got a problem, Halle,” he said.

“He’s not going to let me leave, is he?”

Willie wanted to wipe away her pain. Just grab her hand and run like the wind, take her to safety, be her hero. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’re caught up in this.”

“But you said you have a plan. You said you were going to get me out of this.”

“I was gonna take you with me, but Shane said that ain’t going to happen. God help me, I’m supposed to kill you.”

Halle pushed away and rammed into the backboard of the bed. She braced herself with her muscular legs and held out a long, rusty nail between her fingers. Willie jumped back.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Never mind where,” she said, voice wavering. “You get the hell away from me or I swear…I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

Willie held out his hands, eyes darting to the door. “Halle, please…”

“You let me go!” she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You let me go.”

Willie’s heart pounded; his stomach rolled and shoulders tensed. All the wrong turns he’d made, his stupid, wasteful life in pursuit of money, dealing poison to his friends and neighbors, cutting the legs off his future before he’d even given them a chance to take him anywhere. He traveled down a dead-end road to nowhere. The last twelve hours proved he’d rather be homeless than make another dime through Shane. He’d rather die than let anything happen to this innocent girl he loved.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Halle,” he said in a low voice. “I’m going to find a way to get you out of here, but you have to trust me.” He reached for the nail shaking in her clenched hands, her breathing heavy and desperate. He slowly moved his hand forward, maintaining reassuring eye contact to show her he cared. It worked. She handed it over.

“Why in the hell should I trust you?” she whispered.

“Because he wants you dead by nightfall and I’m the only one who can save you.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Seconds after they pulled back on to Poor Boy, Jake’s cell buzzed. Janey.

“Hey,” he answered. “You still at Hospice?”

Janey’s breath hitched over the phone. “It’s time, Jake. I need you here.”

“You sure? Thought we had a day.”

“Doctor said he’s almost gone,” she said. She went through a bout of sniffles and sobs. “I can’t do this by myself. Can you come?”

“I’m on my way,” he said. “Hang in there.” He pressed the cell to his mouth.

“It’s time, huh?” Bear said as they rolled past Turkey Creek Cemetery. Jake looked back, catching a glimpse of his mother and brother’s tombstones. Wouldn’t be long until Stony would be lying next to them.

“What are the odds we’d be driving by there when I get the call?” Jake turned to Bear, shaking his head. Bear glanced over, but said nothing. “Can you take me to my truck? It’s parked at Maggie’s. I’ll hook up with you as soon as I can.”

“No problem. I’ll keep an eye on Bennett and buzz you if he makes a move. I think we may have a couple hours until he tries to get to Willie. He’ll be too worried I’m tailing him.”

Bear parked under the large oak out front of Maggie's. Maggie emerged from the front door to greet him with a hug and an expectant stare.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Nothing on Halle. Janey called. Stony’s close to going out and I’m heading up there.”

“You want me to go with you? I’m going to go crazy if I sit in this house doing nothing.”

“You sure?”

“I keep wandering the halls, staring at pictures, looking through her closet, wondering if I’m ever going to see her again. I have to get out of here. Let me come with you, okay?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot, Mags.”

A minute later they sped toward Sedalia, leaving Bear behind to track Bennett.

Thirty minutes later, Jake pushed through the double doors of Hospice House with Maggie at his side, the drone of the early afternoon trucks rolling along Highway 65 replaced with piped-in soothing music. He stopped, his skin crawling the closer they got to the room.

“You don’t need to be here,” he said. “Hell, I shouldn’t be here. We should be out there looking for Halle.”

Maggie put her cool hand in his and pulled him toward Stony’s room. “Bear’s on the case. He’ll call you if something breaks. Come on.”

Seconds later, they stood at Stony’s room. Jake reached for the handle, but left his hand hanging in mid-air. Did he really have to do this?

Maggie put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m right here. You need to do this.”

He opened the door. Janey sat in a chair facing the bed, holding Stony’s fingers in one hand and a wadded up tissue in the other. She looked up when Jake entered, Maggie stopping at the door.

“I think this is it,” Janey said, getting up. She wrapped Jake with her scrawny arms, heaved a few sobs and pulled back. She tried to wipe her tears from Jake’s shirt. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jake said. “What did the doc say?”

Janey moved to the foot of the bed. “Not much. That it wouldn’t be long now.”

“Stony say anything?”

“No. He’s pretty drugged up. They’re just trying to make sure he’s comfortable at this point.”

They spent the next couple of hours waiting, a few snippets of awkward conversation mixed in, but mostly silence. They munched on sandwiches brought in by volunteers, while nurses slinked in and out to check Stony’s vitals. Jake checked in with Bear periodically, but Bennett hadn’t made a move. Jumbled emotions pounded him. A thousand memories spinning around in a whirlwind. When he had a bead on them, he spoke.

“Can you give me a minute alone with him?”

Janey nodded, gave Maggie a quick hug and stepped outside.

“I’ll be outside with Janey if you need me,” Maggie said.

“No, stay. Please,” Jake said. He needed her there.

Jake lowered himself in the chair stationed by the bed. Stony’s cheeks were drawn, like he sucked them in. His mouth hung open and drew in labored gasps under closed, puffy eyes. Maggie rested her hands on Jake’s shoulders. How should he begin? The words caught in his throat. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know what to say to you, Stony,” Jake said at last. “I haven’t said more than a handful of words to you in sixteen years. I sit here and look at you and all I feel is the fucking pain you’ve caused.”

Maggie’s hands tightened on his shoulders. Then she stroked his head and neck. The coolness of her soothing touch helped fight the anger like water on fire. Stony’s ring hummed from Jake’s front pocket.

“I haven’t been a good person,” he continued. “I’ve…hurt people using the tricks I learned from you. I sometimes lay awake at night and try to think back…try to figure out what I did to make you hate me so much. I’ve been running from your ghost for years even though you’re not dead yet. I’ve been running from myself because of the man I was turning into. And I’m tired of running. I’m tired of hating you. I want to forgive you, but I don’t know if I can.”

Stony’s eyes scrunched as if a wave of pain swept through his frail body. After a moment, dirty brown eyes creeped open and fixed on the popcorn ceiling before sweeping to Jake’s face.

“Nicky,” Stony whispered. “Oh my God, Nicky. It’s you.”

Stony’s hand trembled upward from the bed, searching. Jake sat still as a stone until Maggie knelt by the chair, took Jake’s hand and placed it in his father’s outstretched palm. The old man’s weak fingers closed around it.

“Nicky,” Stony repeated. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Pop,” Jake said. “It’s almost over.”

“Tell Jake…tell Jake I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry for what I did. So sorry.”

Stony’s voice trailed away and his eyes closed again. His breath hitched once, twice, and stopped. Jake waited for his chest to rise again, but it never did. A single tear rolled from the corner of Stony’s eye and dropped on the white pillow. He was gone—now nothing but a shell.
Tell Jake I’m sorry
. Jake always wondered if Stony remembered what he did, if he even regretted it. Now Jake knew, but did the deathbed confession change anything? He pulled his hand back and stood. Maggie enveloped him in her arms.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Jake kissed her forehead and opened the door. Janey leaned against the window in the hall, eyes cast wide like a miracle recovery was even a possibility. The somber expression on his face killed the idea and she began to cry. She'd wanted nothing more than to be there when Stony died and Jake robbed her of that. But he couldn’t take on any more guilt. Instead, he hugged her tight.

“It’s over, Janey,” he said. She sobbed into his chest for a moment and pulled back. She reached up and stroked his stubbled cheek then went back into the room. Maggie hugged her and Jake’s cell phone vibrated.

“How’s Stony?” Bear asked.

“He’s gone.”

“Damn, Jake. I’m sorry. You okay?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “I suppose so.”

“Look, I know my timing sucks, but Bennett is going to be on the move soon. He’s been cooling his heels at the Turn It Loose for the last couple hours, but he’s going to be hooking up with Willie soon and I know that little fucker has Halle. This might be our last shot.”

“Who else is joining the cavalry?”

“Just you and me, partner. Somebody got the shank inside that killed Howie. Somebody has been feeding info to Langston. I don’t know who I can trust in my department.”

“Where do you want to meet?”

“Call me when you get close. We’ll see where that little bastard is by then.”

Jake hung up. Maggie waited in the hall.

“Bear?” she asked. “What did he say?”

“We might have a lead on Halle, but I gotta get back to Warsaw. I’ll explain on the way.”

He started walking then stopped. He should go back in the room and tell Janey he was leaving. But he didn’t have time to explain everything. Instead, he grabbed Maggie, and they strode through Hospice House and into the late afternoon heat. As they headed south on Highway 65, the sun began its descent in the west and Jake had a sinking feeling their time ran short.

BOOK: Poor Boy Road (Jake Caldwell #1)
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