Trust Me (36 page)

    "She trusts me," O'Clair said, and sounded convinced.

    "She trusts you?" Karen said. "How does she even know you?"

    "I met her at the store where she works and then again at your mother's. I gave her a ride home. We hit it off."

    His big sweaty face flashed a grin.

    "Is there something going on between you two?"

    "Ask Virginia," O'Clair said.

    "I'm confused," Karen said.

    "You're not alone," O'Clair said.

    It was tough to see them together, too much to comprehend. O'Clair, the heavy, the over-the-hill ex-cop who made his living scaring the shit out of people, had a thing for her sister. Was he conning her? Was he making this up? O'Clair took out his cell phone and dialed a number and handed it to Karen.

    It rang four times before a woman's voice said, "Providence Hospital."

    Karen said, "Do you have a Virginia Delaney there?"

    The voice said, "Room 650, I'll connect you now."

    It just rang, but proved that Virginia was there. She had been admitted. "All right, I believe you," Karen said. "Where's the money?"

    Ricky should've listened to himself. He'd suspected O'Clair right from the start, but didn't do anything about it. And now here he was with Karen. This was too good to be true. His luck was hitting on all cylinders. He watched O'Clair get out of the car and walk back and pop open the trunk. O'Clair took out a black plastic garbage bag that was loaded with something, and Ricky's guess was money. He went around to the passenger side of the car, opened the rear door, threw the bag on the back seat and got in. Ricky took out his gun, the Walther PPK Tariq had given to him. He liked the look of it and the feel of it in his hand. He racked it, and looked through the windshield, thinking, do it. Make your move.

    Karen turned so she could look over the top of the seat back. O'Clair picked up the bag and flipped it over and dumped the money, a pile of banded packs on the faded, worn-out leather seat. "It's all there," O'Clair said. "A million six and change." Karen said, "How'd you know where I put it?" "I saw you come out of the Drake and followed you to the luggage shop."

    "I was watching the whole time," Karen said. "Why didn't I see you?"

    "I didn't want you to," O'Clair said. "I was thinking, if it was my money I wouldn't walk out and leave it in a hotel room, knowing there were some bad dudes after me." He kept his eyes on her. "And I didn't think you would either. You're too smart. So what did you do with it? I knew you drove, so that seemed like your first best option. Hide it in the wheel well under the spare tire." "Aren't you clever," Karen said. "No, I'm from Detroit," O'Clair said. "How'd you find my car?"

    "I described you and it, and gave the valet a hundred bucks. He brought the car up, I drove it around the block and brought it back."

    "Samir stole three hundred grand from me." "You don't have to explain it," O'Clair said, "tell me your motivation. And you don't have to worry about him coming after you. I got a call from Saad, friend of mine, one of his collectors. Samir's back in the hospital in bad shape. His chain of gourmet markets are in Chapter 11, and a team of auditors from the IRS showed up at his house, and want to see his books. His empire's crumbling around him."

    "I’m sorry to hear that," Karen said. She could see people on the sidewalk moving past the car, shoppers and joggers and dog walkers.

    "No, you're not," O'Clair said. " Why'd you go out with him in the first place? I've always wanted to ask you that."

    "He was a charmer," Karen said. "Why'd you work for him?"

    O'Clair said, "I was an ex—"I'm socon, ex-cop without a lot of job prospects. He made me an offer."

    Karen glanced down at the money. "How much did you take?"

    He looked at it now, and then at her.

    "Nothing," O'Clair said. "It's all there."

    Karen said, "How much do you want?"

    "Four hundred grand-I'm going to buy a—"

    "You don't have to explain it," she said cutting him off, "tell me your motivation."

    O'Clair looked at her serious and smiled.

    Karen said, "Why didn't you just take what you wanted?"

    "I figured we'd work something out," O'Clair said. "That leaves you a million two. At 8 percent that's a hundred grand a year."

    "I'm glad you're looking out for me," Karen said.

    He said, "You never know…"

    He didn't finish but she had a pretty good idea what he was going to say.

    "Don't you think maybe you're getting a little ahead of yourself?" Karen said.

    He had that same goofy look on his face again. She couldn't believe it, couldn't get used to the idea that O'Clair was gaga over Virginia.

    "What're you going to do?" O'Clair said.

    "What do you think? Go see my sister."

    O'Clair said, "I'll meet you there."

    He took forty banded packs of bills, each worth ten grand, and loaded them into two grocery bags. He put Karen's share back in the Hefty trash bag and dropped it over the seat next to her. He drove to the Drake and pulled up in front.

    "Want me to wait for you?" he said. "Ricky's still out there somewhere. You never know."

    "I'll be all right," Karen said. "I'll meet you at the hospital. Providence, right?"

    She got out and swung the plastic bag over her shoulder and went in the hotel. She checked out and had her car brought up from the garage. She opened the trunk and put the plastic bag in it. Then she got in the Audi and took off, heading for Michigan.

    Ricky passed Gary, Indiana, saw smokestacks belching smoke in the distance, thinking there was a city that was uglier than Detroit and he was looking at it. Karen was five cars ahead of him cruising on 1-94. He'd had to make a decision. O'Clair was in on it too. But he could only follow one of them and Karen had the plastic bag, and his gut told him that's where money was at. Ricky didn't know where O'Clair had gone to. He'd dropped Karen off at the hotel and driven away. Ricky just had to be patient, wait till she pulled over, stopped somewhere and make his move.

    Twenty minutes later he got his wish. She got off the highway just outside Kalamazoo. Ricky wondered where she was going. He didn't see any gas stations or fast food places at the exit. He followed her for half a mile on a two-lane county road, cornfields on both sides, to an old Mobil gas station. She pulled in and he stopped by the side of the road and watched her get out, and go in the place.

    Karen was hungry for the first time in days. She'd seen a small weather-beaten sign on the highway that said "Gas-Food Next Exit" and decided to stop and pick up a little something to hold her over till later. She hadn't eaten anything all day except for the two bites of English muffin that morning and her stomach was growling. She got off 1-94 and drove about half a mile to a little run-down gas station with a cornfield behind it. She went in and bought a Coke and a bag of cashews, and came out humming "Runnin' Down a Dream," the Tom Petty song she'd just been listening to. She noticed another car had pulled in the small lot and parked next to hers. She had the can of Coke under her arm and it was cold as she dug her hand in her purse, trying to find her keys. She felt the presence of someone, and looked up and saw Ricky. He was aiming a chrome plate semiautomatic at her sideways like a bad guy in a TV movie. He was wearing blue track pants with red stripes going down the legs, and a black tank top.

    "You better have my money," Ricky said.

    "It's in the car," Karen said. "I've been holding it for you."

    "You've been holding it, huh?" Ricky said. "Let me see it."

    Karen opened the trunk and pulled out the plastic bag and dropped it on the oil-stained asphalt. Ricky squatted and opened the bag and looked in. He lowered his gun and reached in the bag and took out three banded packs of bills. He grinned, staring at the money, not paying any attention to her.

    Karen reached in her shoulder bag and gripped the.357 and stepped toward him. "I've been holding this for you too."

    Ricky glanced up at her with a nervous look on his face.

    "Jesus, be careful," Ricky said. He looked down at his gun.

    Karen said, "Don't even think about it. I don't want to shoot you but I will if I have to."

    Ricky dropped his gun on the asphalt, got up and stepped back. Karen picked up the gun and said, "Put the money back in my car."

    "Give it to me," Ricky said. "I'll let you go."

    "You'll let me go?" Karen said. "I'd worry about myself if I were you."

    Ricky picked up the bag of money and put it in her trunk and closed the lid.

    "You're making a big mistake," Ricky said. "I don't care where you go… no place is safe, you take this money." He stood there looking cocky and self-confident.

    "Open your trunk," Karen said, pointing the.357 at him.

    "What the hell for?"

    "Because I told you to," Karen said. "And I've got the gun." She kept the Airweight trained on him.

    "Don't do anything dumb," Ricky said, realizing it was all Karen now.

    "I was going to say the same thing to you, but you can't help yourself," Karen said, "can you?"

    He moved behind the white Ford Focus that was parked next to her Audi. She came up behind him and jabbed his shoulder with the barrel of her gun. He reached in the pocket of his warm-up pants, took out his key and pushed a button on the keypad and the trunk popped open.

    "Get in," Karen said.

    Ricky looked over his shoulder at her. "I'm not getting in there."

    Karen swung her arm and hit Ricky on the back of his head with the butt of the Mag.

    "Jesus, what're you doing?" He bent over, making a face, holding his head, rubbing it with his fingertips.

    "You don't have a choice," Karen said. "Get in."

    He lifted his leg up, put a foot in the trunk, and then pulled himself up and in. He fit with no trouble. There was enough room left for a bag of golf clubs.

    "I'll give you a piece of the action," Ricky said.

    Karen could see he was nervous now. "Just give me the keys."

    He tossed them to her.

    "I'll split it with you," Ricky said.

    Karen said, "You don't have anything to split."

    "What do you want?" Ricky said.

    "I've got what I want," Karen said.

    Ricky said, "You think it's going to end here? You're out of your fucking mind. I don't care where you go, I'll find you—"

    She slammed the trunk closed. She could hear him kicking the sheet metal inside.

    "Get me out of here." Panic in his voice now. "Help!"

    Most new cars had a release button in the trunk in case you fell in by mistake, but Ricky didn't seem to know it. Karen tapped her knuckles on the trunk lid and said, "Hey, keep it down in there." She got in Ricky's car, started it, backed up and drove to the edge of the cornfield behind the station. She had her foot on the brake, holding the car back. She could hear Ricky yelling and banging inside the trunk. She shifted into drive and opened the door, took her foot off the brake and jumped out. The Ford rolled into the field, knocking down stalks and then disappeared in the high corn.

    Karen drove straight to Providence Hospital and went up to the third floor and found her sister's room. O'Clair was already there, sitting in a chair next to Virginia's bed, holding her hand.

    O'Clair glanced at her and said, "What took you so long?"

    Trying to be funny, showing a side of him she'd never seen before.