1950s, Fort Lauderdale, Florida
It didn’t take long for Ralph to find The Red Crab. He walked in and laid his bag on a table. He stood still and slowly scanned the room. A jukebox was playing a song he didn’t recognize. It was a Saturday afternoon, and there were a few guys at the bar and two more playing pool. He heard some hammering on the other side of the bar and walked around. He smelled fresh paint. It seemed there was some remodeling going on.
“Look who’s here. Hey, Red, the kid that beat the shit out of Dusty is here.”
Ralph immediately recognized the voice and noticed it came from one of the men sitting at the bar. It was the man they’d called Chops, he remembered. Chops was drinking a beer and eating something. A cigarette smoldered in an ashtray in front of him, a spiral of blue smoke making a halo around his head.
At Chop’s words, Red popped up from behind the bar. He caught the boy’s eye and gave him a wide grin. “Hey! You here to take me up on my job offer?”
Ralph just nodded.
“What about your grandpa? Doesn’t he need you out there at the motel?” Chops asked.
Red and Ralph exchanged knowing glances.
“He died right after you left,” Ralph answered.
But Chops didn’t even hear him. He’d already set his sights on a blonde who’d just walked in wearing a miniskirt and white boots. She had big hair, was overly tanned, and Ralph thought her bright lipstick made her look like a clown.
Red came out from around the bar and slapped Ralph on the back. He was glad the boy had shown up. It would save him having to go back to the motel.
He had no doubt Tom had been at that motel. Red was good at a lot of things. But he excelled at tracking people and that’s where Tom’s trail ran cold. He still didn’t know if the kid had the bag, but he would figure it out. He just needed to keep the boy close.
“So did you ever find your friend?” Ralph asked.
Red didn’t expect the question. He decided to go with the cover story he’d been told to use. “Yes and no.”
Ralph just looked at him.
“Found out he was on a dinner cruise down in Miami. Something arranged by his company to thank their insurance agents. It’s one of those ferry-type boats that takes people out to the ocean for a nice meal and some entertainment. Lots of booze and broads.” He winked at the boy. “He was last seen talking to someone at the back of the boat. He’d been drinking heavily and told the man he was talking to that he needed to take a piss. Nobody saw him after that.”
“Where did he go?” the boy asked, curiosity evident in his question.
“It’s assumed he tried to pee over the side. Lost his balance. Nobody saw it, but there were witnesses who said he definitely got on the boat, but he never got off. They sent the Coast Guard to look for him. Couldn’t find him. They’re calling it an accidental drowning.”
Ralph wasn’t sure what to think. Was it possible this was a different man? Or was Red lying?
“Sorry. I know you said he was your friend.”
Red got serious. “Thanks, kid. He was my friend. Left behind a wife and two daughters. The real sad part was that he was an insurance salesman and left his family penniless. Didn’t have life insurance.”
This wasn’t true. Tom wasn’t an insurance salesman, but because of his betrayal, his family wouldn’t be cared for. It sucked.
Just then, a loud crash interrupted their conversation.
“Fuck, John, what are you doing?” Red asked as he turned to look at the man working on the renovation.
“Sorry, man. The kid dropped a bucket of nails,” John answered.
“Have him pick them up. They’re fucking everywhere.” Red nodded toward John and the little boy, who was scurrying to pick up the nails he’d just dumped.
Red turned back to Ralph. “That’s John Lawrence. Master carpenter by trade. We’re expanding. The kid in the overalls is his neighbor’s kid. John has a soft spot for him. His parents leave him alone a lot, so John brings him along whenever he can. Picking up those nails will keep his little ass busy for a while.”
Ralph glanced at the pair. John was a short and stocky fellow wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt. He had on a carpenter’s belt that looked full and heavy, but he worked in a sure and easy manner in spite of the bulk. The little boy must’ve only been four or five. About Ruthie’s age, Ralph thought. He was wearing overalls with no shirt underneath. He had a buzz haircut and had spatters of blue paint all over his hands and arms, and even a smudge on one cheek.
Red noticed Ralph was looking at the boy. “He tried to help paint the bar stools. Got more blue paint on himself than he did on the stools. His name is Keith.”
They were interrupted by a female voice from behind the bar.
“John, I told you already, your soup is getting cold.” The woman motioned to a bowl sitting on the bar. Next to it was what looked like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That must’ve been for Keith. She muttered to herself as she walked away, “Don’t know how one person can live on clam chowder. You’d think he’d be sick of it by now. Every day, chowder for lunch and chowder for dinner. Chowder, chowder, chowder—”
“You hungry, Ralph?” Red asked him.
“It’s not Ralph. My name’s Jason.”
“You said it was Ralph at the motel.”
“It was Ralph at the motel. It’s Jason now.”
Whoa, Red thought. This kid has an attitude. He might be more trouble than he’s worth. He thought for a minute and smiled. Then again, he might fit in perfectly.
“Okay. You hungry, Jason?”
“Yeah. I’m hungry,” Jason answered. “I can buy my own lunch.”
Red nodded. “Good, because I don’t give handouts. I’ll give you work and you’ll get paid, but you have to know right now, I’m not a nice guy. I don’t do things for anybody without a reason. I’ll pay you good, but you’ll fucking earn it. You going to have a problem with that?”
“I know how to work.”
“I bet you do,” Red said as he motioned to the bar. “Patsy will take your order.”
Jason sat at the bar and slowly ate the BLT he’d ordered, quietly observing everyone all the while. John and Keith had finished their lunches and were back on the other side of the bar working. Red was behind the bar, but talking to Chops and the lady with the miniskirt who’d come in earlier. Another man and woman had joined them. The waitress was serving beer and taking lunch orders from a few of the new customers who’d come in.
Chops was telling a story now, and his voice was rising the more excited he got. Jason wasn’t paying any attention to the story and took a long swig of his soda. When he sat it down, he realized the bar had gotten quiet. He looked up and realized Red and his group were staring at him.
He stared back.
“Ain’t that right?” Chops laughed, slapping his thigh. “Tell ‘em, Red. Tell ‘em how the kid sounded when he attacked Dusty.”
“Sounded like a big old grizzly bear,” Red told the captive crowd, a hint of a smile at his lips.
“Told ya. Told you he sounded like that. I swear we heard snarling and everything. After he clobbered Dusty, he pounced on him, too. Swear he pulverized him just like a grizzly. Big and mean. That kid is fucking dangerous, I’m telling you.”
Miss Bright Lipstick took a drag on her cigarette while giving Jason an admiring once-over. They went back to their conversation.
Jason shifted uncomfortably in his seat and had to adjust his pants. She may have looked ridiculous with her big hair and bright lipstick, but the look she gave him made his dick jump.
Red took the towel that had been over his shoulder and threw it on the bar. He walked around to Jason and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “You finished your lunch. C’mon, take a ride with me.”
Jason was taking his money out to pay for his lunch when he heard Red say, “Leave that there, Patsy. That’s Stacy Ann’s.”
Patsy shook her head. “Red, you’ve had this bag of candy here forever. I was just going to offer some to the little guy. One piece of candy from the bag isn’t going to hurt anything. He deserves a little treat. He’s working his little heart out for John.”
“I told you, I keep it there for Stacy Ann. It’s her favorite. If she ever comes back around, I want it to be here for her.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stacy Ann and her candy.” Patsy picked up her tray and walked around the bar to clear a table.
Jason had laid his money on the bar and followed Red out the back door to a car. It was a nice car. “Who’s Stacy Ann?” Jason asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.
Red gave him a sidelong glance. “My friend’s daughter. The insurance salesman who died. Stacy Ann is his oldest girl. She was trouble before he died. She’s really trouble now. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on her, but it’s almost impossible. She’s a wild one, she is.”
“You keep the candy at the bar for her?” It seemed like an odd gesture.
“I mostly keep it there for me. When she was little, she loved candy. I can still see her face lighting up whenever I’d go over there for dinner. We made a game out of her and her sister checking my shirt pockets for where the candy was hidden. Guess it reminds me of happier times.”
The conversation ended when they pulled into a gas station. It was big and had several garages attached.
“The guy you met back at the bar, John, this is his family’s business. He’s a carpenter, but this garage belongs to his family. You know anything about cars?”
Jason shook his head.
“You’re going to learn.”
They parked and walked up some steps that led to rooms above the garages. When they reached the top, Red knocked on the door once and flung it open. A boy, who looked to be just a little younger than Jason, was sitting on the floor. He had newspapers spread everywhere and each one held a variety of car parts. He was covered in black grease up to his elbows and was holding some kind of part. Just then, another boy came out of what must have been a bathroom. He was wearing long pants and no shirt. He had darkly tanned skin and long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Jason had never seen a guy with a ponytail before.
“Greg, Anthony, this is Jason. You’re going to teach Jason everything you know. He’s going to live here with you two now.”
Greg didn’t say anything, just nodded at Jason and went back to studying his car part. Anthony gave Jason the once-over and took a seat on the floor next to Greg.
“Anthony, remember to put your hair up under a cap before you go out. You stick out like a sore thumb already.”
Red turned his back on both boys and Jason caught Anthony giving Red the finger. He tried not to smile.
“C’mon, I’ll bring you back later,” Red told Jason as they turned around and walked downstairs. On the drive back, Red explained that while both boys were young, they knew everything there was to know about cars. They would start Jason off small by teaching him what parts they needed and how to acquire them.
“You know how to drive?” he asked Jason.
“Yeah, but I don’t have a license. Not nearly old enough.”
“You look old enough. Well, you don’t look old, you’re just big. Might be able to get you a fake one.”
They were heading back to the bar when Red took a sharp right into a parking lot. He threw the car in park and jumped out quickly, walking toward another parked car. A woman was bent over the driver’s door, her back to Red. The person she was talking to must have said something because she turned around and registered instant fear as Red approached her. Jason could hear her from his spot in the passenger seat.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Red. I was going to call you. I swear.” She started to lean back up against the car but lost her footing when it sped away.
Red grabbed her roughly by the arm. “You’re sorry? You owe me, Meg. Where’s my money? I know you worked that fucking convention. I know you’re holding out on me.”
“You’re hurting me!” she cried.
Red must’ve squeezed her arm tighter because she let out another cry.
“This isn’t hurting, Meg. You don’t bring my money by the bar tonight, then you’ll know what hurting is.” He roughly shoved her away.
He climbed into the car and, without looking at Jason, shifted into drive and hit the gas.
Jason didn’t say anything for a while. He was confused. He’d heard the man on the phone that night refer to Red as “agent.” Weren’t agents the good guys? He thought they were. But after spending just a few hours with Red, he’d already figured out he did something illegal with cars, and he knew what Meg did for a living. He was young and was raised in the sticks, but he wasn’t stupid. Who was this guy who was on a special secret mission to retrieve a bag of money one day and kept underage kids on his payroll and scared hookers shitless the next?
Red glanced over at him, one hand casually holding the steering wheel. “So, you gonna stick around? Still want to work for me?”
He’d purposely put on a show for the boy when he saw Meg. He didn’t want the kid to think he was a nice guy. He’d already told him he wasn’t. Just because he kept a bag of candy behind the bar for his goddaughter didn’t mean he was a softie. He’d been working both sides of the coin for years. He was in it for one person and one person only. Himself. He would let his other employers know about the kid, convince them it was in their best interest to keep the boy close. More than likely, if the kid had found that bag, he didn’t know what he had his hands on. Red couldn’t say one hundred percent that the boy had the bag, but if he had to bet his life on it, he would go with his gut. And his gut said that the kid did have it.
Yes, he would keep Jason close and use him. And he would let them know the kid could be molded and used—now and in the future.
He had no way of knowing then that the boy had a mind of his own and would never answer to anyone.
Red knew Jason was confused. The boy had been on the phone listening that night and heard headquarters call him “agent.” He knew Red ran an auto theft ring and he had working girls on his payroll. Jason looked at him now with penetrating green eyes brimming with uncertainty.
“So, Red?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we the good guys or the bad guys?”
Red looked over at him and smiled. “We’re whoever the fuck we want to be, kid.”