Chapter Forty-Three - OLIVER
“You ready?” Pax asks me as we cross College Avenue and head towards the shooting range behind Shrike Bikes. What a weird place he chose. But it’s in our favor, so I don’t care.
“I’m ready,” I say as we cross Maple Street at a jog. There’s a dark car with dark windows parked in the parking lot. This asshole can’t look any more suspicious if he tried. The only thing he has going for him is that no one is working at Shrike Bikes right now.
Lucky him.
But that’s still a problem for us.
The door to the car opens and some tall redhead chick gets out looking like a middle-aged whore. Pax shoots me a look. I shrug, no clue who this bitch is.
“Hey,” I say, talking to Liam once we are within range. “You can’t leave that car here. My parents will be at the shop in eighteen minutes and in twenty-five minutes, the police will be knocking on that window. If no one answers from inside, they will proceed to tow it, per my father’s posted warning sign.” I point to said posted sign. “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t need any more attention today than I already have.”
Liam looks agitated. His hands are stuffed into his dark trench coat, his shoulders hunched against the wind. He doesn’t like the cold, I take it. He wants to be back inside that car or this building. He looks at the woman and says, “Pull the car around the block. We’ll wait here until you get back. But hurry the fuck up. I hate this goddamned wind.”
The woman obeys. Pax and I exchange a quick glance.
“That’s quite a job you did,” Liam says to Pax.
“We can talk about it inside,” Pax says.
“Why did you do it?” Liam asks.
“I said we’ll talk about it inside,” Pax practically growls. “So shut your fucking mouth until that happens. Then you can ask all the bullshit questions you want. OK?”
All three of us look in the direction the woman drove off in. And a few minutes later we’re rewarded with her tall figure jogging back to us.
Car moved out of sight. Check.
“OK,” I say. “Let’s get the fuck out of this parking lot before people start noticing us.” I go for the door, key in the security code, and hold it open as Pax, the redhead, and Liam all go in. I close it up as they wait on this side of the construction plastic, then say, “Follow me.”
I lead them through the plastic, down a hallway, and into the main part of the building.
“What is this place?” the woman asks.
“Well, one day, when my father pulls his head out of his ass, it will be a shooting range.”
“Not much to look at,” Liam says, studying the lack of progress to indicate that this place is anything but a condemned building.
I just keep walking until we reach another barrier of construction plastic, and then pull it aside so they can enter the nothing-special office lounge.
Liam eyes the table, decides it’s not too dirty to get comfortable, and then does just that.
“OK,” Pax says. “I made good on our deal. Now tell me what the fuck is going on with all this Mister shit.”
Liam laughs. Pulls off his black leather gloves one finger at a time. Keeps laughing. It sorta echoes off the high ceilings and that distracts me for a second. It really is an ugly building.
“You fucked up, Vance.” This isn’t Liam talking. It’s the woman. “I think you better check your expectations before you go off getting cocky.” She takes a seat next to Liam, waving a big gun in her hand.
Pax cocks an eyebrow at me that says, Can you believe the balls on this one?
I really can’t. But then again, she did just say that. So I guess I have to.
“Calm down, Ellen,” Liam says. His good-ol’-boy southern accent—which is usually under control—makes an appearance. “She’s like a dog that needs to be corrected. We have to explain where she went wrong. Punish her. And then retrain her.”
Pax reaches into his jacket, pulls out his gun, and shoots Ellen in the chest.
Just bang. Loud as fuck. Bang. Once more to make it count. That wasn’t in the plan he told me back at my office, but whatever. We’re improvising. And we know an Ellen. Well, Mac does. And I’m pretty sure this was that cunt who made Ellie’s life a living hell last year.
And then he turns to Liam and grabs him by the throat. “Look here, motherfucker,” he says in a low, calm voice. “I did your job, and we had a deal. So you had better start talking or I’m gonna shove this gun up your ass and blow your goddamned head off. Because that’s definitely where you’re keeping your brain today if your big bad plan was to bring a woman along to talk shit to me.”
Sometimes a man knows when he’s beat. Sometimes he takes it like a… well, a man. And then there are times when he doesn’t.
Liam Henry doesn’t take anything like a man. But that’s OK.
I look around the would-be shooting range my father has been tinkering with for the better part of six years. Liam was right about this place. It really isn’t much to look at.
But it sure as shit is soundproof.
In the end we get what we need. And Liam gets a date with his little girlfriend.
Different gun, of course. Pax makes dead Liam shoot dead Ellen just to keep it authentic for the forensics team.
He plants the gun that shot Liam in Ellen’s hand. Plants the gun that shot Ellen in Liam’s hand. And then stands up to admire his handiwork.
I whistle in appreciation. “Why, Mr. Mysterious. I do believe you’ve done this before.”
Pax shrugs. “Maybe a time or two. It’s not perfect. I can think of a dozen mistakes I’ve made. But it’s good enough. I think we can probably buy a local cop on that dark market of yours.”
I roll my eyes. “So what do you think?” I ask, looking at my watch. We’ve been in here forty-five minutes. I lied to Liam earlier. Shrike Bikes opens at four PM on Thursdays. So no one will see us here at all. But I’m too lazy to move that damn car. Plus, just thinking about all those fingerprints and DNA samples I might leave behind if I actually have to drive it… nah.
“Victoria will be happy, right?”
“Happy?” I ask. “I don’t think she wanted them to be involved. But yeah, she called it way the fuck back when, right?”
“Let’s go get West first. I bet he’s dying to get out of that basement. Then we can deal with the others.”
I nod and follow him out of the building, locking it up behind us. And then we tuck our hands into our pockets, bend our heads into the wind, and head across College Avenue to the backdoor of the FoCo Theater to bring our dead friend back to life.