“Carla, open up!” the soft but insistent pounding on the door continued and Carla pressed her hands to her ears to try and block it out, but it was no use. “Carla! I know you’re in there. Open up right now or I’m going to call the cops. I know something’s wrong. You’re blasting the Smiths and you only do that when something is wrong, so open the damn door!”
Carla didn’t know if it was the threat of any more interactions with the police or the shock at hearing her straight-edged friend Elle curse, but either way she was on her feet and reluctantly dragging herself to the front door. She took a deep breath, grasped the handle and swung it open. Elle met her surly, tear stained glare with a cheerful smile and a platter cookies as she pushed her way inside.
“I brought cookies,” she juggled the cookie plate for a moment, reaching into her purse and pulling out a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, “and whiskey.”
“Oh my god, I love you,” Carla said, giving in to her urge and grabbing a cookie first, and shoving it into her mouth as she grabbed two tumbler glass from a cupboard before pouring them both a generous drink. Carla picked up one and threw it back in one shot before setting it down and trading it with the other. She dragged herself back to the couch where she had wallowed in misery since she’d fled from the police station. She still wasn’t sure how she made it home, the entire ride she’d been driving blinded by the sting of her own tears, barely able to make out the road in front of her. She was pretty sure it was a miracle that she hadn’t crashed into something.
She didn’t see Elle fill the left-behind glass with a bare splash of the alcohol before walking over to where Carla had collapsed, but she felt the couch dip next to her. Her friend was silent for a long time, taking a tentative sip at the burning liquid before crinkling her nose in that particular way she had and putting the glass down on the coffee table. She pushed it a little further away for good measure.
“Okay. Tell me,” Elle said, her voice firm but Carla just shook her head, fighting back another wave in the endless deluge of tears. Where to even start? How to even explain what had happened, how they had gotten to that point?
“Carla,” Elle was still talking, leaning forward so she could drive home her point, “I know something is wrong. Did something happen? I’m your friend, you can tell me.”
“I know, I know I can. But I messed up so bad, Elle…” Carla trailed off, swiping at a tear that let loose to roll down her cheek. She could still feel the angry heat of Joel’s glare, could feel the moment his terrible words hit her like a physical blow that sent her reeling back.
“I doubt that,” her friend said matter of factly, “And besides, everyone makes mistakes. But I can’t help you figure it out until you tell me what happened.”
Carla took a deep breath, trying to determine what to say, how to begin. At the very start, she decided. That was only place that she could.
“You know that when I went to work for Maurice, all the problems I had with him?”
“Yeah, the guy was a total creep,” Elle filled in, one lip lifted prettily in disgust.
“Yeah, he was, and it turns out he’s a lot worse than just a creep.” Carla took another deep breath, casting her mind back to that last day. It was the day she had decided to steal the shipment of weed and sell it for herself. The day that she had first met Joel and the Dirty Cruisers. The day that had changed her life forever.
Elle gestured for her to go on and she pulled herself out of her thoughts before continuing. “Well, I told you about what happened. About the shipment of weed that went missing and was taken by the motorcycle club.”
“Yeah, the same gang that your boyfriend is in,” Elle sent her a mocking look of disapproval and Carla had to crack a smile at the over exaggerated expression.
“Yes, that’s the one,” she took another sip of the whiskey, “Well, anyways, there’s something I didn’t tell you about that day. I was…I was planning on stealing the shipment for myself–”
“What!” Elle gasped, scandalized.
“I was going to steal it and turn it around and sell it, otherwise I was going to lose my house and then I could quit working for Maurice because it was getting so bad there, he kept…he cornered me and…” Carla shuddered at the memories and Elle put a hand on her arm in comfort, her expression murderous.
“Carla, did he…did Maurice ever–”
“No. No, it came close a few times. Too close. But it never went that far.”
“That doesn’t make it any better,” Elle said, still defending her and Carla’s heart melted a little at her friend’s staunch loyalty.
“No, it doesn’t. But that was one of the reasons I was so desperate to leave, to get away from him. So, obviously, my plan didn’t work out the way I had hoped. Before I could get away with the marijuana Joel and his club had taken it, but…there was something about him. He gave me his number and told me if I wanted repayment for the lost weed to call him. So, I did,” Carla shrugged, remembering that first night at the clubhouse. How out of place and overwhelmed she’d felt.
“Once they found out about my situation, they devised a new plan, a plan that would help both of us. I would find out when the next shipment was to leave and alert them. They would steal it again and give me a cut of the profits.”
“Carla that’s…that’s illegal,” Elle said with a tinge of horror making her voice breathy. Carla cast her an arch look.
“I know that, Elle. I knew the risks. But I thought, if just once things worked out for me I could have enough money to get away from Maurice. And it didn’t hurt that it would cost him his shipment at the same time, the bastard,” Carla growled, and Elle growled in agreement right along with her.
“Anyways, none of that matters now because it didn’t happen. There were complications with the first stolen shipment. They were planning to move it across state lines and flip it in Utah, but somehow Maurice knew I was involved. He called in the police to investigate and Joel was out of time. They couldn’t go with the original plan and had to bring in another contact. And somehow, every time we moved, Maurice was there. Always tailing us even though he shouldn’t have been able to.” The knowledge of just how he’d been able to do that made Carla’s stomach clench in painful knots, but she wasn’t to that part of the story yet.
But the idea that Maurice was tracking her, knew exactly where she was, who she was with, made nausea build inside her and she had to swallow hard against it. She glanced at her cell phone that was on the table. It was turned off, she’d been too afraid to power it on, but she still felt an uncomfortable prickle between her shoulder blades as if someone was staring at her.
“Well, what happened next?” Elle finally said after she was silent for too long and Carla shrugged, trying to ease that feeling before speaking.
“The first time Maurice found us, we got away. But the second time, when we were moving the weed, he brought the cops. They got Hot Wheels, one of the members of the crew and she was arrested. She only had a small portion of the marijuana on her, it was split up amongst several different vehicles, but it was enough to get her locked up. They’re fighting it,though. It wasn’t enough drugs for a serious charge and the rest of the evidence is circumstantial. There’s nothing to prove that she was involved in the theft but it was…it was hard for everyone, especially Joel.”
Carla shook her head, remembering how personally he took it. He was responsible for taking care of the crew and he felt like he had failed, like he had let everybody down.
“But even still, we took the rest of the weed that we had and sold it to this unknown contact. Joel and I drove back to the safe house and we thought the only thing we had to worry about was how to clear Hot Wheel’s name, but…” Carla trailed off, biting her lip.
“But what?” Elle asked, her expression urgent as she sat on the edge of her seat, “What happened then?”
“The next morning at the safe house…they were there. Maurice and the police. They told us to come outside and we didn’t really have a choice. They arrested Joel and cuffed me and took me in for questioning, but I think it was just a ploy to get Joel to cooperate. He was the one they were really after. They took us to the police station and interrogated Joel. They put me in this little room and then…and then Maurice was there. Somehow he had been behind all of this.”
Carla shook her head, still unable to believe that he had masterminded it all. He must have messed up somewhere. She just had to figure out where and how she was going to use that to her advantage.
“Maurice said…he told me how he kept finding us, even when he shouldn’t have been able to. He’s able to track me using the GPS signal on my phone. He must have put an app on my phone or something and all he has to do is pull up the screen on his own phone or computer and it shows him exactly where I am. He’s been…he’s been watching me.”
“Oh my god, Carla! That’s…that’s…that’s super illegal and creepy and horrible and illegal! Why didn’t you tell the police?” Elle said, her voice at a near shriek by the time she’d finished.
“Because, he has proof, Elle! He can prove where we were, and what time, and that I was with them. It’s the hard evidence the cops need to put Joel away for good instead of the circumstantial evidence of Maurice’s allegations,” Carla paused, taking a deep breath as another hitching sob threatened to send her spiraling into tears once more, “That was the first thing I thought about, but he knows. He knows exactly what happened and he doesn’t care. He actually thanked me, Elle.”
“For what?”
“For getting him all of his weed back,” Carla shrugged helplessly. “What am I supposed to do? Joel knows that I’m responsible for all of this. If not for me, Maurice would never have been able to track them. It’s my fault Hot Wheels got arrested, it’s my fault that Joel got arrested and he hates me for it. I can’t even blame him, but I….” Carla trailed off and Elle threw her arms around her in a massive bear hug that gave her the strength to push back the tears one more time.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Elle finally said, but Carla pulled away, shaking her head.
“But I’m not okay, Elle. I did this. I was the one who messed things up. And now I need to figure out a way to fix it.”
“But how?” Elle asked, always the practical one.
“I don’t know,” desperation tinged Carla’s voice as she drained the last of her whiskey, dragging herself to her feet to pour another. There was heavy moment of silence as both of them focused on their own thoughts, but when Carla walked back to the couch there was a look of consternation on Elle’s face.
“What is it?” Carla asked, taking another swig.
“It’s just…I can’t help but think about how he thanked you.”
“I know, it was awful,” Carla interrupted morosely.
“No, not that, I mean it was awful, but you said he thanked you for getting all of the weed back,” Elle finished, her words drawing out slowly as she thought it through. Carla sat up.
“You know, it was odd. I remember thinking about it, but…”
“Yeah, didn’t you say that Hot Wheels only had a small amount of the weed on her, right?” Carla nodded to Elle’s question, her own wheels turning over Maurice’s words.
“So, how did he get the rest of it back if Joel sold it to some drug dealer in Utah?” Elle finally asked and there was dead silence in the room for a long moment before Carla set her glass down on the coffee table with a loud clink.
“Maurice is dirty,” Carla whispered, it all finally snapping into place. “Maurice has a connection with the illegal marijuana industry in Utah. That’s the only way. He’s dirty.”
“Okay, so Maurice is somehow even worse of a person than I thought,” Elle said with a sigh but when she turned to Carla that was a fire burning in her warm brown eyes. “What are we going to do about it?”