West Seattle Blues (16 page)

But he’d never be able to do that that if he went out killing people. If he pulled a trigger, the only thing ahead of him was the rest of his life in jail. I sighed and put down my cup.

“Did Ian go down easily?” I decided I’d rather talk about pleasant things.

“Yep,” Dustin replied with a smirk. “He even walked for me.”

“Much?” Stupid, but I was feeling jealous.

“Two steps. It’s coming, though. Go and have a cigarette,” he told me. “You’ll feel better.”

I poured the last of the coffee into my cup, reached into the drawer for the pack of smokes, and went out on the deck. The night was turning colder as the clouds blew away and I could feel the chill on my skin.

I took my time, letting the frustration and fury out of me with each breath. By the time I stubbed out the butt I felt calmer. I drained the cup and returned to the warmth.

“You’ve no idea who this Nick could be?” Detective Andersen asked.

“All I know is what I told you. And that he has that tattoo.” I heard a sigh at the end of the phone, followed by the scratching of pen on paper. “You need to go and talk to Carson,” I suggested.

“Oh, I’m going to do that,” he promised. “You’re sure he’s going to pay?”

“I don’t know, but probably. Maybe he’s thought better of it after some sleep. I hope so.”

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough. Thanks for calling. And we’ll look into who this man Nick might be.”

“He could be the one who killed Kyle and Rick.”

“That’s what I thought, too.”

“You’ve got nothing more on the murders?”

“Not yet.” His voice was empty.

I’d done everything I could. Now it was time to try and forget about it. To have a regular life again. I bundled Ian into his coat and drove down to QFC. There couldn’t be anything more normal than grocery shopping. We’d gone around the produce department and made it to the bread, when someone behind me spoke.

“You’re Laura.”

It was a statement, not a question. I turned quickly, surprised by the words and not recognizing the voice.

Nick. It had to be. I recognized him immediately from Carson’s description. A greasy ponytail, that pinched face with pale zits on his cheeks, the kind of man who looked as if he’d been starved of everything for years. His jean jacket was faded and frayed, his boots scuffed, with the sole starting to peel away from one pointed toe. Very quickly, I glanced down at his right hand. At the tattoo on the middle finger.

My heart was beating so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. We were in public, I tried to reassure myself. There was nothing he could do here. I grinned at Ian to pretend to him that everything was fine. My fingers were so tight on the handle of the grocery cart that the knuckles went white. Thankfully, Ian was firmly strapped in, as my first thought was that Nick would try and snatch my baby. That was only ever going to happen over my dead body.

“What do you want?” I tried to sound relaxed but the words came out sounding hoarse and strained. My eyes darted around, searching for a member of staff.

“You know who I am?”

I gave a small nod.

“I want you to butt out of this thing with Carson,” he continued. His eyes were empty, his mouth no more than a thin line across his face. “So he can pay me and I can get the hell out of here.”

“You’re too late. I already told him I want nothing to do with it.” I stared at him, breathing softly while trying to look tough. Inside, I was shivering with panic. “Anything else?” He didn’t answer. I raised my voice until it came out as a shout. “You hassle me again or follow me, and I’ll call the cops and have you arrested for harassment. You got that?”

He still didn’t reply, just ambled casually away, as if nothing in the world bothered him. I moved my hand to Ian’s back, rubbing gently, watching Nick disappear around the far end of the aisle.

I felt dirty, as if the grease from his skin had slid all over me. Every time I inhaled, I imagined I could smell him, rank and stinking. I just wanted to go home and shower and scrub the taint of him off me. Hurriedly I freed Ian from the cart and pulled him into my arms.

“Come on, kiddo,” I said quietly. “We’re out of here.”

I abandoned the cart with its apples and grapes, the dozen eggs and the loaf of Island wholemeal bread,
and walked out into the fresh air of the parking lot. My hands were shaking so much it took an age to strap Ian into the car seat.

Nick must have followed me to the supermarket, confident enough to make his threats in public. In a panic I jerked the mirror to glance behind me as I drove up Trenton. But it didn’t matter, as he knew where to find me.

I locked and bolted every door and window in the house. Then I put Ian in his cot with a toy, stripped off and used the scrub brush all over my skin, letting the water cascade down onto me. Dried and dressed, I called Detective Andersen to tell him about the encounter. He took down the details and my description, and promised that a cruiser would swing by every hour. Finally I dialed Carson’s number, but the phone just rang unanswered until the machine clicked on.

“It’s Laura,” I said, trying to keep the fury and the fear out of my voice. “Call me.”

He couldn’t be far away, I thought. Then I remembered his promise to go to the bank himself. Shit, that meant he’d done it. I wanted a cigarette but I didn’t want to be out on the deck, in open view.

Instead I played with Ian, applauding him as he grabbed the coffee table and pulled himself to his feet before sitting down again, grinning madly at the fun of it.

We’d just finished lunch when the phone rang.

“You wanted me to call you.” There was no warmth in Carson’s voice.

“I met your buddy Nick this morning.”

“What?” I could hear the shock. It was genuine and horrified.

“He came right up to me in the grocery store. I had my son with me, Carson. He told me to butt out of this thing with you.”

“But…” he began, then said nothing more.

“I’ve told the cops about it.” I didn’t want apologies, excuses, explanations. I wanted it to be over. He could do what the fuck he wanted as long as it all stayed clear of me and my family.

“They were out here again this morning, asking about him.”

“I warned you I’d call them.”

“I swear to God I never told him your name.”

How he discovered it didn’t matter anymore. The fact was that he had it and he was threatening me.

“I had Ian with me, Carson,” I repeated. I wanted to hammer that fact into his brain. “He threatened me.
Us
.”

“I’m sorry” he said quietly.

“You’ve been to the bank, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Has he called?”

“Not yet.”

“He’s slime. He’s pond life. You can’t hope to deal with him. Would you really trust anything a guy like that tells you?”

“He says he has the names.”

“He has
some
names. It’s probably all bullshit.” I knew an angry heat was rising up my face. “So you’re really going to off some people on the word of a scumbag like that? Someone the police are looking for now? They’ll find out for themselves how much he really knows. He’s just scamming you.”

Carson gave a short, harsh laugh. “I been poor, I been in the army, I been in the music business. I been scammed all my damn life. And if I find the people he tells me about, I’ll get some truth out of them first.” I didn’t want to ask how - or what would come after.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, Carson, I’m going to try one last time. You’ve got a new music career starting. You’ve got a gig happening in a week, you’ve got these bands recording your old songs. Do you really want to throw that all away to avenge someone you never knew? From what I was told, he wasn’t much of a father or a husband.”

“He was still my son,” he said slowly. We’d been here before - same words, different day.

“I know. But maybe you just need to walk away. For your own good.”

“Maybe.” But he didn’t believe that. Neither did I.

“You don’t know this guy Nick. You can’t trust him. You really have a thousand dollars to waste?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Don’t do it, please?”

“He has to call for it to happen.”

“He will.” I was certain of that. Nick looked to me like a man who desperately needed a grand.

“I’ll figure it all out then.” He sounded weary.

“Just keep him the fuck away from me.”

Eleven

That was it. Probably the end of a brief friendship. I’d still go and see him perform at the Tractor, if he wasn’t in jail by then. After that he’d fade away into the long list of those people I’d once known. God knows, there were enough of them over the years. People I’d interviewed at one time or another. Or promises to keep in touch that became memories. Meanwhile, I had a feature to transcribe about one man’s escape from Sarajevo, and all those who never made it out and the play he’d created.

By the time Dustin came through the door, I hadn’t managed to type a word. I’d booted up the computer and done nothing more than stare at the screen, while Ian napped. I just couldn’t stop thinking about Nick.

I never wanted to see him again. There was something empty, something dead in him and he scared me. In just a few seconds I’d understood that here was someone who could hurt people without even caring. I didn’t want him anywhere near me or my family. I knew I couldn’t stop Carson dealing with him, but maybe I’d planted that seed of doubt in his mind. I hoped so. I didn’t want him doing twenty to life for murder somewhere.

Part of me wanted to head back to that shack over on Beach Drive and shake Carson until he saw sense. The other part, the bigger part, the mom part, just wanted to keep the hell away, to pull down the shutters and try to forget it all. Two people I’d talked to were already dead because of this. I could still see each of them as they sat and talked to me. That large knot of guilt I felt still filled my stomach.

I perked up at last when I heard the key turn in the slider. We were sitting watching television,
Rocko’s Modern Life
. Ian didn’t understand a word of it, but the pictures held him spellbound, while I understood it all and loved every minute.

I lowered Ian to the floor, making sure he was standing. I held up his arms as we began to walk toward the kitchen, then he was down on all fours, crawling so fast I could hardly keep up. I could hear his father, and the happiness in Dustin’s voice as he scooped up his son.

“Have a good day?”

“Not too productive.”

“What’s wrong?”

I told him about Nick, watching the horror expand on his face.

“What are the police doing?” he shouted.

“They’re looking, they told me that. I saw one of their cars go by earlier.”

“Jesus.”

I’d had time to think since the phone call with Carson.

“You know the only good thing?”

“You mean there is one?” He sounded bitter.

“Nick wouldn’t dare kill me now.”

“If it’s actually Nick who’s killed those guys.”

“It’s got to be,” I insisted. “Think about it. How many people can be crawling out of the woodwork at once? I don’t care what crap he’s coming out with; it has to be him.”

“What does Carson think?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” And, for once, I truly didn’t.

“And what about you?”

That was a good question. Knowing it was almost certainly Nick who’d killed Rick and Kyle didn’t make me feel any safer. It wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t shoot me, if it came down to it. But I’d faced him down in the store, and I was proud of myself for that. And, with the cops searching for him he’d probably try to lie low for a while.

“Not so hot,” I admitted after hesitating. “But not too bad, either.” I looked at him. “Does that make sense?” The main thing I wanted was to make sure nothing happened to Ian. If anyone even tried, I’d tear them apart with my own hands. The rest of it I could handle. “Let’s go out,” I said suddenly. If I was going to show bravado, I was going to do it all the way.

“Out?” Dustin stared at me as if I’d gone mad. “But…”

“I know, so we’ll go out to eat. Screw him.” I could see he wanted to ask if I was sure but he knew better than to speak the words.

“Okay,” he said after a little while.

“Right. How about Spuds?”

“Sure.”

Five minutes later we were on the road. I was quiet, but Dustin was chattering away, telling a tale about one of the bookstores down in Tacoma. I listened and smiled, determined I was going to banish all the darkness from my head for a while.

The place was surprisingly busy, the counter area all pale, with shiny tiles. I’d never tasted real British fish and chips, but Spuds seemed like they’d be a lot closer to that than Long John Silver. I carried the tray upstairs and we found a table looking out onto Alki Beach and the water.

“Heard anything more about the Elliott Bay job?” I asked as I broke up some pieces of fish and fries for Ian. He was hungry, already grabbing for them. “It’s been a while”

“I stopped in again this morning and talked to the boss. The only reason he hasn’t been in touch is that he can’t pay anything like what I’m making now. He’s waiting to figure out the best he can offer.”