It did not even bother him that she called him baby. He collapsed on the couch. She examined his neck, got a damp cloth. He told her about Tasha, their discussion, her attempt to shoot him, the blond guy’s chase of him.
‘I hope Gooch broke the son of a bitch’s legs,’ Eve said. ‘That’s Gary, one of Paul’s thugs. Not bright, but a good shot.’
‘Gary wasn’t with Frank and Bucks when they left,’ Whit said. ‘He must’ve followed them back.’
Eve ran the washcloth along his face. This stops now,’ she said in a hoarse voice. ‘I don’t want you hurt.’
‘It does stop now. I got the CD Tasha was burning of your laptop’s files. Files Paul wanted. If it’s got the goods on Paul we can tell him we’ll show it to the police unless he leaves you alone. And then we’ll show it anyway.’
Eve stopped wiping. ‘Let me see this CD.’
For an instant Whit didn’t want to give her the disc. In case she didn’t want to show it to the cops, didn’t want to implicate herself.
‘We’ll wait for Gooch. I want him to see the data, too.’
‘Don’t you trust me, Whit?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, not knowing if it was true. ‘But we’ll wait a minute for Gooch, okay?’
She sat next to him, doctoring his graze. They waited. But Gooch didn’t come back.
25
Bucks watched the tall, ugly punk on the bed. The man’s eyes were closed, and he was tied down with sailboat rope Frank stored in the garage. Tasha had draped a cold washcloth across his bruised face, but the man hadn’t stirred.
From the upstairs window Bucks watched Frank Polo and Tasha Strong in the driveway. The damaged Mercedes was tucked into the garage; still driveable, at least enough to limp into the driveway and then behind the closed doors. The bullet Gary had put through the Mercedes’ back windshield couldn’t be seen. A police car had arrived minutes after Tasha and Bucks got the punk and Gary into the house, and the Mercedes into the garage. Frank stood out in the driveway and he had chatted with the cops, explaining another car crunched into his friend’s Honda then veered into their yard before taking off. He had no idea why a neighbor would have reported shots fired. The sound of the accident perhaps? Or kids running around in the winter sunshine with BB guns? Youngsters in the park last week shot grackles out of the oaks. Frank, with a smile, asked the officers if they heard his songs on the oldies stations, and would they like an autograph for their wives? The police had asked their questions of him and Tasha; she said she owned the Honda, didn’t see the other car hit it. The police left. Tasha swept up the broken glass in the street.
Frank could be awesomely cool when he had to be.
‘How’s the guy I hit?’ a gravelly voice behind Bucks said. The punk – he had said last night at the club his name was Leonard – had one eye open. ‘Did I kill him?’
‘You’re shot, buddy, and you’re wondering if you killed someone?’ Bucks said.
‘I’m shot?’ Leonard seemed surprised. But his eyes were unfocused.
‘Bullets are funny things. He shot at you but it went through the rear windshield and an edge of the headrest and hit you in the back of the head. Broke the skin but it bounced off your skull, I think. You pulled up hard into our yard, I leaned in and belted you twice with the butt of my gun. Your head must be made of granite, partner.’
‘I’m shot,’ the man said. He rubbed at the back of his head, as though he expected a bullet fragment to be protruding like a bump. ‘Gonna be a long wait for the second bullet.’
Bucks sat down by him. ‘Why should I want to kill you, partner?’
‘I’ve messed up your plans,’ Leonard said.
‘But I’m highly adaptable,’ Bucks said. ‘You need to be adaptable, too. So answer a few questions for me, and I don’t stick my gun in your pants and shoot your dick off.’ He tossed Gooch’s wallet on the bed. ‘Who are you, Mr O’Connor, and why do you have such a grudge against me?’
‘You’re nothing to me,’ Gooch said.
‘What’s the real name? I’m thinking it’s not O’Connor.’
‘Guchinski. My friends call me Gooch. You can call me sir. Mr Vasco’s not gonna be happy about-’
‘Drop it. You’re not from Detroit. Or from Joe Vasco. I made a couple of calls this morning. No one there ever heard of you.’
Gooch closed his eyes for a moment, shrugged. ‘That’s correct.’
‘So who are you and what do you want with Eve?’
Silence.
‘See, Gooch, I don’t think you were her partners and she double-crossed you. I heard you were all cozy last night at the Pie Shack. So why were you looking for her last night?’
‘She’s the long-lost mother of my friend.’
‘Don’t give me lines.’ Bucks stood. ‘Where is Eve and your buddy? Mosley, is that his name?’
‘I don’t know where they’re at now. They’re moving. Don’t want to get caught.’
‘Gooch,’ Bucks said. ‘Consider your situation. You should have a goal. To continue breathing in the next five minutes. Do what you need to accomplish that goal.’
‘They wanted Eve’s car, I said I’d get it for them,’ Gooch said.
‘Where’s the five million?’
‘In my wallet.’
‘Seriously.’ Bucks sat back down again.
‘It’s just you and me here,’ Gooch said. ‘So bag the act. You’ve got the money and you’re blaming Eve. It’s a smart move. You’ve played well off the situation. I’d applaud if I could.’
‘I don’t have the money, asswipe.’ Bucks grabbed Gooch by his shirt, shook him hard. ‘I don’t have the goddamned money!’ He forced his voice to calm, forced his breathing to go steady.
‘I think you do-’
Bucks hoisted Gooch’s head up by the hair, whispered hard in his ear. ‘I don’t have it and I never did, you idiot asshole. Eve has it. If she says I’ve got it, she’s lying, she’s playing you for a fool.’ He let go of Gooch’s hair, stalked around the room. ‘Jesus, I’ve hired three hit men to find her. I’m spending a fortune I don’t have to find this woman. If I had all that money, I would have left town, dumped it in a Swiss banking account, gotten the hell out of Houston immediately. I wouldn’t bother with a frame. I don’t want a job with Paul that bad. You think he’s ever going to give me five million? You think this is my dream job? I used to be somebody.’ Bucks steadied his voice. The panic he’d been fighting down felt like it might surge, blacken his heart, short-circuit his brain. ‘I am somebody. I don’t have it, Gooch.’
‘I,’ Gooch said, ‘don’t care.’
‘You better care. Who shot Nicky? You? Your friend?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It will to Paul. I can tell him it wasn’t you. If you help me.’
Gooch said nothing.
‘Y’all have the money. I need the money.’ He got his voice low, put his mouth close to Gooch’s ear. ‘Paul will kill you if he thinks you can’t help him, okay? But I’ll cut a separate deal with you and your friends. And you get to live.’
Gooch considered. ‘What’s the deal?’
‘We could split the money and I can make sure Paul never bothers any of us again. But I have to have that cash. Listen, Paul can cut a new deal with his buyers. Just buy half the coke tonight, not the whole shipment. It’s not ideal but it would preserve the deal, at least for a few more days. And you would still get half the money, and you get to live.’
‘Let’s say you and I cut a deal. What’s to keep Paul from coming in and shooting me at any second? While I’m your captive I don’t have a single guarantee,’ Gooch said. ‘And even if you get half the money, you just let me go?’
‘You’re right,’ Bucks said. ‘You don’t have a guarantee. Except my word that I’ll keep Paul from killing you because I can’t afford to have your death sour a deal with Eve and Mosley. But I need you to tell Mosley and Eve to give me half the money. Or Paul will come at you like that guy in Detroit he chain-whipped to death. Man, I saw pictures. You don’t want to end like that.’
Gooch said nothing, watched the ceiling. ‘They don’t have the money. They can’t cut the deal you want.’ Gooch closed his eyes. ‘It’s really painful to watch a mind work at such a slow pace.’