The Forsaken (22 page)

“That you know any of it. What were you doing following my partner in the first place? Does the chief know about your extracurricular activities? Oooo, I’m sure he’d get a real kick out of men in his department working against their own.”

“Don’t flip this around on me. I was doing my job.”

“You hate him that much, don’t you? You can’t stand the fact that the chief put him on this case instead of you. Can’t stand that he trusts Jude more than you, in spite of all your purple-heart service. All your good deeds.”

Whitney bit down hard. “Something spooked him enough to make him take off like he did. If he were my partner, I’d want to know what made him run. Being kept in the dark like this wouldn’t get
me
to trust him.” He started walking away then turned around. “You know, if I were left alone to solve this mess, I’d want someone in my corner who could help. That’s all I’m trying to do here.”

“I’ll bet you are,” she seethed.

Whitney smiled, biting back what looked like resentment and obvious defeat.

She stiffened, clearing her throat. Rachel knew the confrontation with Whitney was justified, and that the jealous, bitter creep had a point. That ate her up the most inside. The room suddenly became so loud that she couldn’t articulate, couldn’t hear her own thoughts, her own emotions. The noise crammed everything together in one resounding vibration.

She took one final look at the corpse before storming out.

30

THE PEARL WAS A
nightclub located beyond the south end of the city. It was hidden from the cash cows on the east end and the small restaurant fronts stationed on the west, past Hollow Lane. Membership to this elite evening escape was by invitation only. Such restriction kept the wandering alley swine out. Furnished by the finest lounge chairs, lights, and women, there was no reason to think this place was anything other than a modern Eden. Those who frequented the club—corporate executives who turned a blind eye to tax evaders and the drug lords who peddled cocaine and heroin to teenagers and discontent lawyers with expendable incomes—were more than generous with their wallets and attended upon discretion only. The loan sharks and the horny sons of politicians eventually made their rounds on most nights as well. And, in some of the rarer cases, a local badge got invited in.

The bartenders on staff this particular evening had served a number of cocktails and shots in the time it took Chubb and Morgan to agree to a game of cards. Chubb, like his nickname suggested, was born big boned and walked around with an even more bloated ego. Not one to be toyed with. He wore a top hat and a fine suit at all times, part of his unshakable, brazen demeanor. But Morgan admired a man who kept such decent care of himself, even if his size would always require assistance getting up out of a chair.

The two had crossed paths several years earlier. Chubb should’ve been imprisoned for trafficking narcotics, but the judge let him off easy, based on the lackluster report Morgan issued after the arrest. In fact, Judge Harmon, sandwiched between two lovely dancers, was finishing up a round of drinks in the corner. And opposite him in the booth sat a comrade, the district attorney assigned to Chubb’s last case. Their expressions were priceless, inked with the colors of oblivious men. It was clear the men were stripped from all fear, even the fragile worry that someone might find their little, hidden cave. Morgan was charmed that such a fine group of souls were among tonight’s audience.

A waitress in a mini skirt and an open blouse eased toward their table. As Morgan turned toward her, he could see she was afraid, noticed how her wrist quivered the closer her flawless legs drew. Heels five inches high carried her thin, natural body.
Like Crystal
, he thought. But this one was younger.

Morgan caught Kevin’s unexcited smile when the waitress courteously, nervously winked at him. He surmised it was her way of staying calm in spite of the unease coiling up in her belly. He knew she was aware of the kind of men gathered around this card table; the kind of men she was assigned to take care of for the night.

Kevin stuck out like a sore thumb in his ripped jeans and ragged tee tucked inside a hoodie.

Three men sat around the marble table. Well, three men and Chubb’s bodyguard. The first round of the poker game had begun, and the waitress’s arrival was a minor but welcome intrusion. Chubb made it a point to aggressively squeeze her left breast before he drank any alcohol. “Sometimes it enhances the flavor,” he said with a grunt. Once he peeked at his cards, he showed the young girl his numbers, and she replied with an impressed expression.

Morgan instead let the cool liquor bleed down his throat. He enjoyed the chill he got in the center of his neck before the booze made it to his chest and then his stomach. It was a cleansing to him. His boots scraped against the ceramic floor then, chipping some of the grout between the cracks.

“Three blokes enjoying a game of cards. Ain’t that something, Morgan?” Chubb said, tickling the girl’s lower back. “It’s been a long time. You just took off. Nobody’s seen you, brother. Last fool I expected to hear from is you.”

“You know me,” Morgan said, “just full of surprises.”

Chubb’s voice roared in amusement, but the heavy beats blaring around them swallowed most of the sound of his voice. “I love this guy. My man, Morgan Cross.” He took a sip.

Morgan shifted in his chair, moving his neck around inside a constricting red tie and a white suit. Kevin, a watcher for the evening, had a decent hand, he could tell. But the amateur’s nerves were erratic and getting worse.

“Momma don’t let you out too often, does she?” Chubb said, glancing at Kevin while a girl massaged his ear with her tongue.

Kevin sat quietly, but his leg was a stuttering mess.

“What’s his deal, Morgan?”

“Stop moving, boy,” Morgan ordered with a whisper. “It’s his first time here, that’s all. He’ll survive this.”

“First time. Okay. There’s a first time for everything, man. Just relax. You’re in my club now.
My
sanctuary. No stress here.”

“I
am
relaxed,” Kevin spat, glancing at his cards.

“You are not relaxed. Take a good, hard look at me, fool. Whiskey sour chilling in one hand, and this fine piece of sugar in the other. Slice of heaven, slice of hell.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Morgan grinned.

“
This
is living.
This
is relaxed. I don’t know what you been smoking, brother, but you’re whackin’ out real quick.”

“Want me to get him one of my friends?” the girl whispered seductively. “She could help him relax.”

“What do you say, Big Daddy? My girl Candice here says she got a pretty friend. Rumor has it she can take you to the moon and back, baby.”

“Hey! Chubb, this is my guy. I say what he does or doesn’t do.”

“Your guy, my club, Morgan. Why don’t you sit this one out? He can speak for himself.” Chubb nibbled on the girl’s still shaking neck and tilted his head. “So whaddya say?”

Kevin studied the tattoos inked into Chubb’s big, solid hands: letters and symbols. Upon his next blink, he replied with a slow but automatic nod, and Candice left their company.

Morgan glared then at Kevin in a way that bleached his face white. In response, Kevin examined his cards once again. Making only one change to his hand, Kevin gently lay the numbers face down, wearing a smug expression.

“Anticipation makes him cocky, don’t it?” Chubb said in a laugh. Before lighting his cigar, they nudged elbows, but Morgan simply sat, as hard as a stone, and pretended to be amused.

“So what’s it gonna be, boys?” Morgan said in a breathy voice. “Somebody better rock my world.”

“Two smug chumps in my club. Morgan, you’re the best bluffer I know, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Chubb cracked his neck. “I taught you how to play.”

“Fair. But look at me now, amigo. Am I bluffing?”

Tension stretched between the old acquaintances. The overweight kingpin scratched the patch of facial hair sticking out of his knobby chin then sucked down the last few sips of his beverage.

“You got a lot of cash riding on this hand, Morgan. A bet’s a bet, baby. Just because I like you and we’re friends doesn’t mean I’m gonna go soft on you, let you split outta here without paying your dues.”

“C’mon, Chubb, you couldn’t possibly go soft. And we both know we were never friends.”

“The everlasting drifter finally utters the truth. Always just passing through, ain’t that right?” Chubb’s tongue danced behind lips overpopulated with strips of aged skin. His mouth and the words forsaken by them possessed a deathly quality all their own. “You’re stealing the wind right outta my sails.”

Morgan threw down his hand, face up. Kevin couldn’t avoid laughing at the ridiculous set lying on the table.

“Like I said, the bluffs can’t save you from me, brother.”

“Don’t call me brother, you fat sack of meat!”

The light mood switched instantly. Several feet away, Morgan saw the outline of the two girls slowly approaching their table. He studied their movements with satisfaction, his body stimulated by their tight, skimpy outfits. He shifted his attention once more to Chubb.

“Because I’m a nice guy, I’ll forget what you just said,
amigo.”
To Kevin, he said, “Time for a miracle, boy. Impress me.”

“You love to win, don’t you?” Kevin sneered.

“Come now, baby. You’re makin’ me blush.”

Kevin dropped his cards on the table. Straight flush.

“That’s pretty,” Chubb said with a smile, folding his four of a kind. “Well, I’ll be. That’s something special right there. You got yourself a miracle.”

“Claim your cash, boy,” Morgan said with approving rhythm.

“You got yourself something lucky, Morgan. I could use him on the books.”

“He’s not for sale.”

“Isn’t everybody?” The girls finally arrived. Candice returned to Chubb’s lap, and the other girl began unfastening Kevin’s belt. “I need a skilled player like you.”

“I was just lucky.” Kevin cowered, his nerves still shaky but slightly excited by the girl’s hand moving up and down his thigh.

“Get your whore off him. I want the money, and then my partner and I are leaving.”

“Partner?” Chubb said, choking back a scornful laugh, his face swimming in the smoke of his cigar. “Whatever happened to the man who only hunts alone? Look, gents, Han Solo went and got himself his little Skywalker princess. Let’s be straight, Morgan. You don’t need the dead weight. Let him learn a little from me.”

“In your dreams.”

“I insist.” Chubb pulled out a Colt .45 and pointed it at Morgan’s chest. “And don’t think about touching my money. Like I said, just because I like you, doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you walk out of my club with five grand. Them be the rules.”

“You think I came for your money? If I wanted your money, I’d drain your accounts myself.”

“Want me to handle him?” Chubb’s guard asked, reaching for his sawed-off shotgun.

“No, it’s all good. Yes, it is. I think I’ll handle this arrogant punk.” Eyeing Morgan, he said, “Did you think I’d let you get away with it? Did you really think that a man in my position could let you walk away from what you done, no questions asked?”

The room shrank suddenly.

“You got brass ones, I’ll give you that. And to think, you must assume I’m a sucker. I
let
you live. I let you come into my house, play cards on my table, and touch
my
girls, and you got the nerve to mock me? You got the nerve to take out members of my crew?” Chubb’s head shook from side to side. “Not a good decision, my friend.”

“Why don’t you point that gun someplace else?”

“I thought you were smarter than this, Morgan. My moms always taught me to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

Morgan sneered. “Your mother…”

“Bite your tongue! You know, I’ve been trying to be a better man…for my moms. You caught me on a good night too, because I was gonna talk through this mess whichu, see if we couldn’t find a mutually beneficial way to resolve this little situation. But this conversation seems to be headin’ down a real nasty road.” Chubb blinked fast, licking his lips and adjusting his fingers. “Why’d it have to be this way? Why did you screw with my business?”

“I did you a favor. Your business is weak. Your dealers, your whores, all of them, weak. Every one of them sold you out to save their own skin. The cops would’ve been right at your front door inside of a week.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t lose a minute of sleep thinkin’ ’bout that crap. I pay for protection. I’m invisible, baby. I’m untouchable.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then I guess I must’ve wanted all of this. I must’ve…planned this very moment.”

Chubb was confused.

“You played right into my hand. But there’s one question left. What are you gonna do now? I will own your property and your business and your pathetic soul.”

Chubb’s cheeks ballooned with disgust.