The Last Whisper in the Dark: A Novel (25 page)

“Hey, Shel,” I said.

“Terry.”

So, no small talk. Right to it.

“What have you heard about Chub and the crew of bank robbers?” I asked.

“The cop killers?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing.”

That stopped me. Shelby never admitted that he didn’t know anything.
First he’d suss out a fish, see how much the information might be worth. Then he’d keep the mark on the hook for as long as he could, see if he could find the information from another source and make some cash along the way. The thing he never did was tell someone that he didn’t know anything.

“Shelby—”

“I told you, Terry, I don’t know anything.” Styles ===================== */
h M

“I know what you said. But everything about how you say it makes me think I shouldn’t believe you.”

His jaw muscles throbbed as he gritted his teeth. He gave himself a five count before he responded. “I can’t help that.”

“Sure you can. Tell me the truth.”

“Or what?” he asked.

“Or what?”

“Right. Or what?”

I thought about it. I didn’t have a good answer. I liked Shelby. I didn’t want to strong-arm him. I didn’t need more heat or trouble coming down. If I went after him, I’d have to steal his digital recording equipment. Chances were that I wouldn’t be tech savvy enough to delete myself off it.

“I don’t know, Shel,” I admitted. “How about if we don’t go down that road and you just tell me what it is you so obviously know.”

He dropped his right hand so that his long fingers hovered near his holster. “I’d like to see your hands, Terry.”

“You’d like to see my hands?”

“Yes.”

I showed him my hands.

“You’re not going to give me any trouble, are you?” he asked.

“Have I ever?”

“No, but I haven’t seen you in years, and the Rands … well, let’s just say your family has picked up a lot of baggage the last little while.”

“None of it’s mine,” I said.

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. A lot of talk circulates about you, Terry. About your old man. Mal’s murder. Grey’s grift. Collie’s execution. Your pal Chub Wrightthe pain slice

My mother phoned, her voice hard and brittle as
shale. “How far away are you?”

“Five minutes.”

“Get back here.”

“What’s the matter?”

“That kid Dale is dating. They’re parked out in front of the house in his truck. Arguing.”

“That’s what teenagers do. You forgot?”

“This is different. He’s shouting. Crying.”

“She’s probably telling him it’s over.”

“He’s shaking her by the shoulders. He’s reacting badly. If your father sees that he’ll kill the boy.”

“Ma—”

“If I have to go out there it’s going to be bad. I’m thinking about calling the police.”

“Don’t call the cops. We don’t call the cops.”

“I know that.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“That’s why I phoned you.”

I floored it. As I pulled up in front of our house, Dale was sitting with Tony in his 4×4, parked at the curb. She spoke animatedly. She kissed him with two powerful pecks to the lips. She smiled. He didn’t. Tony didn’t look at me as I climbed out of the Challenger. He was crying but from what I could see he wasn’t sobbing from heartbreak. He looked nervous, wild, scared.

The windows were rolled up and I couldn’t make out what they were saying despite their voices being loud. A single word managed to
cut through.
Ketch
. I saw a blur of motion and then a spurt of red. I heard his low, powerful voice slicing through the gray day. I ran to the truck just as Dale managed to get the door open. She fell out of the 4×4 backward as Tony stood on the gas pedal and gunned it. The tires skidded on the slick road surface, sent up a cloud of greasy smoke, and caught traction. Dale hit the front lawn on her back. The truck jumped forward and the passenger door slammed shut. I saw the red spurt oLife is rough

Tony swore he didn’t know where Simon Ketch
lived. He said Ketch had so much money that he moved from hotel to hotel, taking out the largest suite or sometimes an entire floor for days or weeks on end. There were constant parties. Liquor, drugs, endless amounts of amazing women.
ROGUES
wasn’t his only Web show. He had others, including one featuring drunk chicks on spring break going fucking nuts. He always had the cameras rolling. “Where is he now?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” Tony said. “The past few days he’s been in the Hilton Garden Inn out by MacArthur Airport. He’s got a couple of private planes.”

“A couple of them?”

“Yeah.”

“Who needs more than one private plane?”

“If you’ve got the money you buy shit like that, right? He’s always flying off someplace. Chicago. Los Angeles. Bermuda. Mexico. He sometimes stays in hotels out in Islandia, Ronkonkoma, Bohemia. Or farther east.”

“Where’s he been flying off to lately?”

“So far as I know, noplace. But I’m not in his inner circle.”

“Who is?”

“I have no idea. Man, shit, my kidneys. That really hurt. You didn’t have to do that, Terry. I’ll be pissing blood for days.” He crouched down but that would only hurt worse. I helped him to his feet.

“How do you find out where the latest party is?”

“Leave me alone, Terry, please.”

“How do you find the latest party?”

“The word gets out and somebody texts me.”

“Who?”

“Somebody. Anybody. He surrounds himself with a lot of people, I told you.”

I leaned back against the 4×4, lit a cigarette, and stood there smoking.

Tony asked, “We done?”

“No.”

“Oh God. What else do you want?”

I finished my cigarette. Drunks moved in and out of the doors of the House Blend, laughing. Some were escorted out by the bouncers. Some were arm and arm with the girls, whom they walked to their cars and climbed in the backseat with. A few minutes later the girls returned to the joint. Everyone was lonely, everybody was out to make a buck, and everybody needed to be held and lied to for a couple of minutes.

“Why’d you hit my sister?” I asked.

In the glare of the parking lot lights I saw that Tony had enough character to look embarrassed.

“That was a mistake,” he admitted.

“I know it was. Why did you hit her?”

“I was scared, man.”

“Scared of what?”

“Ketch. If there’s one thing you do not do, it’s disappoint Simon Ketch.”

I kept staring at him. I wondered if the sight of her blood would haunt him forever.

“She really liked you.”

“Terry, oh man, I like her. I might even love her. I mean, I’m not like this. I don’t do that. I don’t hit girls. I never hit girls! Never!”

“Except you did.”

The realization meant something to him. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah, I did. He told me to do what I could to keep her on. Ketch has a thing for her. He really digs her. She’s the face of
ROGUES
. He doesn’t want to lose her.”

“So what?”

“What do you mean so what?”

“So you make her bleed because of him?”

“You don’t understand, Terry,” Tony said, his hands working uselessly in the air. “He gets what he wants. He’s got serious coin. He’s got people.”

“People?”

“Yeah, people. Guys he hires to take care of things for him. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Strong-arms.”

“Strong-arms with guns. He’s got a bunch of attorneys who handle his business in court but you can bet that a lot of the charges against him don’t go through because his people pay folks a visit.”

I imagined a short little tough in black Armani with slicked-back hair and a smarmy smile. No wallet, just a wad of C-notes in a gold money clip with diamond initials, and he never stopped peeling bills off.

“What’s he look like?”

“I don’t know how to describe him.”

“Try.”

“He’s average. I mean, you know. He sort of looks like you. He always wears a nice suit. Vintage. That’s his thing. He wears a suit and a fedora. I don’t know what color his hair is, or if he has any hair at all. He’s always got the hat on. He’s got style. Presence. What else is there to say? Are you through? I’ve got nothing left to say, really.”

I had another question. “Is
ROGUES
real?”

“What do you mean real?”

“I mean real, Tony. Pay attention. Are you assholes really breaking into houses and filming what goes on?”

“Of course. That’s the whole idea. That’s what the show is. That’s why it’s such a hit. Didn’t you know that?”

“Was it you who got Dale involved?”

He leaned over again, his kidneys aching. “I showed her some of the earliest episodes, when I first started with them last summer. She wanted to be involved. She asked me to set something up with Ketch. She wanted to be a part embplas of a viral show. She’s got big dreams. Broadway, Hollywood. She thought it would help her acting career. And it has. She’s big. She’s sexy, she’s beautiful. People are interested.”

I kept seeing the spurt of blood running down the passenger window. I kept seeing the punks in the graveyard.

“You pissed on my brother’s grave.”

“Look, man—”

To his credit he knew what was coming so he got the first shot in. He swung on me and brushed my chin. I dodged and he didn’t want to follow up with another punch. He looked left and right wanting to run or shout for help. The lot was empty. He grunted with frustration.

He held his hands up submissively and said, “Please, Terry, I don’t—”

I wanted to hurt him. I very much wanted to hurt him and make him bleed and leave a scar so that he would never forget. And then I realized he was just a stupid scared punk who let his fear and emotions run away with him. The underneath had called to him too, and I had a chance to help him from it instead of pushing him down farther beneath the waves.

I dropped my fist to my side.

I said, “Come on.”

I walked him over to the Challenger and held the passenger door open for him.

“Oh man,” he whimpered, “please. Don’t do this.”

“What’s the difference? If you show up you’re just joining in on the party, right?”

“You don’t need me. Just go up to their biggest luxury suite. His functions are always top floor.”

I didn’t really want the punk along, but I also didn’t want hwas more than

I hung around at the party for another hour. I
was used to boredom. I could case a house for days. I could hide under a bed while folks were screwing around on top of it. I had my cool when I needed it. But this kind of action wore me down. I didn’t want to talk to chicks. I didn’t want to constantly be needled to do some crank or blow or crushed Ritalin. The open bar kept the power drinkers happy and loud.

I asked the thug with the gun when Simon might be around.

“Later,” he said.

“Can you narrow that time frame down a little?”

“No.”om under their

As I moved through the muddy woods I heard
weeping.

I broke into the small clearing where dead tree limbs and half a ton of leaves lay scattered.

My father stood in moonlight, bathed in silver, shivering in the night. His eyes, except for tears, were as empty as the darkness. He was caught in the throes of the underneath. He had forgotten where he was.

You couldn’t see a hint of Grey’s shallow grave. I’d covee break-of-daw

I sat in the Challenger parked in the driveway,
the engine running and the heater fan blowing. I stared at my house and wondered if I was being haunted there or if I was doing the haunting. My cell rang.

“Terry? It’s Shelby.”

“I didn’t think I’d hear from you ever again, Shel, considering how things went in your shop.”

“I’m taking a chance on you.”

“How so?”

“Just by talking to you.”

“Okay. What do you have for me?”

He paused. The pause grew. It lengthened until I would’ve asked if he was still there, except I could hear him breathing. I let him take his time. I turned the fan up another notch. I aimed the vent at my throat. I couldn’t lose my chill. I could feel my father staring from his bedroom window.

“Maybe you already know,” Shelby said.

“Know what?”

“Danny Thompson’s dead. Or as good as dead.”

I shut my eyes against the night. There are deaths that, when you learn of them, you can’t help but acknowledge your own. You know the name, and for a moment you think it’s your own.

“What happened?”

“He was found lying in front of his house. At first they thought a stroke or brain aneurism. Turns out someone stuck a needle through his tear duct into his brain. He was lobotomized.”

My Christ, I thought.

Haggert.

Haggert had had it done. So he could take over.

It wasn’t until Shelby responded that I realized I’d spoken aloud.

“Haggert’s always been a number-two man, it’s where he’s comfortable,” Shelby said. “Looks like your pal Wes Zek is going to try running the family all on his own.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He’s already got me putting together a big card game of captains from Chi and L.A. He’s flying them in on his dime. Lots of big action. Whores, drugs, good food, the usual. They’re going to rent a party boat and set sail off Orient Point. It’s his coming-out party">“Yes, she is,” I agreed.tp. If he ever asks, you didn’t hear any of this from me.”

Shelby disconnected.

I snapped my phone closed. Then I opened it again and dialed a number. My call was answered before the end of the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Walton. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Terrier, my new friend. It’s so nice to hear your voice. How are you?” He sounded genuinely pleased to hear from me. I thought of his charmer’s smile, the handsome glowing face, the devil’s beauty.

“To be sure, Walton, I’ve been better.”

“That saddens me. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe,” I said. “I have a question.”

I imagined him drinking wine. I saw his red-stained lips. I felt the tback generatio

I drove past MacArthur Airport and watched
the red-eyes coming in. I pulled back into the Hilton Garden Inn and walked across the lobby. The girl at the desk asked if she could help me and I told her no and took the elevator up to Simon Ketch’s suite.