“Hey,” Zeke said. “I promised the boss I’d keep him from killing you, but you gotta stop saying shit like that, Eddie, or I’m gonna let him go. I swear. For a smart guy you sure do act stupid sometimes.”
Eddie sniffed, hitched at his swim trunks, and turned into the hall. He disappeared into the first bedroom.
Cesar looked at me. “What are you looking at, bitch?”
“Come on, man,” Zeke said. “We’re not supposed to talk to her. Wait till the boss gets here.”
Cesar swung around on his stool to face me. “Bet you’re wondering why you’re here.”
“Yeah, I wonder what is worth kidnapping me for.” I tried my hardest to sound tough, sure of myself.
“Well, Crystal thinks you know where that asshole Garrett is, and Garrett knows where something of Crystal’s is, see, so Crystal’s gonna get you to tell him where the asshole’s hiding out.”
“Neal is dead.”
Cesar opened his eyes wide and made an O with his mouth. Then he dropped the feigned look of surprise and stared at me with a challenge in his eyes. Softly, in that voice that sounded like a deep belch, he said, “Bullshit.”
From outside we heard car doors slamming, but the noise didn’t distract Cesar from his little stare-down game. He pointed at me and mouthed the words, “You’re mine.” I looked away.
Zeke jumped up and hurried to the front door. Before he could reach the knob, the door swung open and Benjamin Crystal strode into the room, shouting, “The man can’t drive. Find me a lawyer who can drive next time.” Hamilton Burns, looking red-faced and shaken, entered the room behind Crystal. When he saw me, the color left his face. Crystal didn’t look at Zeke. He was so much shorter, he would have had to bend his neck back to look Zeke in the eye. Then there was his skin. In the photos, it had looked pockmarked from childhood acne, but in person, it was much worse, so scarred and bumpy and discolored as to look grotesque.
Before anyone could answer Crystal’s eyes met mine. “Good. You’re here. We’ve got to talk.” He called back over his shoulder to Zeke, “Fix me a drink, conjo.”
He settled into the armchair opposite the couch. Zeke brought him what looked like a rum and Coke with lime. His guayabera did not look as crisp and clean as it had on the TV at noon. His carefully pomaded hair now looked tousled, and his big eyes protruded red-streaked from his head. Crystal drank down half the glass, then smacked his lips. “So, you’re going to tell me where that asshole is, right?”
I was taken aback by the man’s appearance. His skin was so disfigured, I felt awkward looking at him, almost as though I were staring at a burn victim.
He looked at me expectantly, waiting. “So?”
“So what? As far as I know Neal is dead.”
He threw the glass at the bar and it shattered, spraying glass fragments and splatters of brown sticky liquid across the white tile. “What do you think I look like? An idiot?”
I decided he really didn’t want me to answer that question.
Crystal reached into his breast pocket for a pack of cigarettes, and Zeke stepped forward with a lighter from the bar. Crystal began speaking softly. “Your boyfriend—”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” My voice sounded loud after Crystal’s hushed tones.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he said.
Zeke brought him another drink, and he nearly drained the glass in one long gulp. “God, I missed that,” he said, then slurped at the last of the drink’s ice cubes. Brown liquid dribbled down his chin. “So, Miss Sullivan, you’ve become a pain in the ass—and stupid as well, to turn down thirty thousand dollars on that salvage business.”
“Thirty? The most Burns offered me was fifteen.” Crystal opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again as it dawned on him. “Fucking Burns. Where is he?”
Zeke trotted to the foyer then looked out the front door. “He’s gone.”
“Nobody steals from me. Cesar, deal with him.”
“My pleasure, boss.” Cesar picked up the cell phone from the bar and headed into the dining room to make a call.
“So maybe you aren’t as stupid as I thought. That’s a pity. Well, it’s never really been about the salvage money, anyway. I figured you’d get to the point where you’d be willing to trade—Neal’s whereabouts to get your life back.” He took long deep drags on his cigarette and squinted his eyes at me, looking me up and down. “Neal never stopped talking about you. Even Patty said so. So where the fuck is he?”
“I really don’t know. But what would you want with Neal—assuming he were alive?”
“Oh, he’s alive, all right. He called me in jail.”
The room suddenly felt off kilter like one of those haunted houses where everything is on a slant and water appears to flow uphill. “You talked to him?”
“No, but he left a message. It could only have been him. He told me he’d be the first to ring the bell.”
“Ring what bell?”
He smiled, a distant look in his eyes. “I have to admire him in a way. I’d do the same thing myself in his place.”
“What did he do?” I couldn’t follow what he was talking about.
Crystal took a deep drag on his cigarette, crushed the butt out in the ashtray on the table in front of him, then waved his hand in the air as though dismissing my question.
“I have you now, and he’ll come for you.” He slid forward on his seat and looked me up and down. “Yes. That will be his downfall. He’s a fucking romantic.” He rocked his head back and laughed.
Neal had robbed me and given me no hints as to his whereabouts. I didn’t want to tell Crystal, but I felt certain I was useless to him as bait. Neal Garrett was not the man I thought he was.
He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Zeke! Are they ready?”
The big man hurried into the bedroom where Eddie had disappeared earlier. His head appeared back out the door. “Just about ready, Mr. Crystal.”
“Good. Put her away. We’ll use her later.”
Cesar came into the living room and motioned for me to stand. I was trying to be cooperative, biding my time, looking for my opportunity. It hadn’t come yet. But I knew I’d better figure it out before they decided to “use” me later.
Cesar grabbed my upper arm, and we started down the hall. Crystal called out, “Cesar, if Garrett doesn’t show up, you’ll take care of it for me?”
“Sure thing, boss.” He tightened his grip on my arm and pulled me closer to him. He spoke right into my ear. “I’ll make her sweat.” He stopped at the first bedroom door. It stood ajar. I could feel a soft heat flowing out the door.
Inside the room was a massive array of electronic equipment. Zeke was sitting in a swivel chair and watching a video on one of three monitors above a computer keyboard. The ponytailed guy, Eddie, sat at another computer working his fingers swiftly across the keyboard, intent on a large screen filled with images on a graphics grid. It looked like a Web page with buttons down the left side of the screen. He typed in text, then moved the text box to another location on the page.
Cesar pushed me through the door. “Mr. Crystal wants her to sit for a while,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the end of the hall.
Cesar walked around me and sat on a couch. There was nothing between me and the door. If I could just get outside the house, I’d be able to outrun these musclebound weight-lifter freaks. I inched closer to the door.
“Come on in and catch the show. Recognize anybody?” Cesar asked, leering and pointing to the monitor.
On the screen was a video showing a young girl standing, naked but for the leather thongs that bound her wrists, suspending her arms high over her head, and the gag that covered her mouth. Her terrified eyes were looking back over her shoulder at the man behind her the same ponytailed man who was sitting right there. Her auburn curls fell forward to cover her eyes when he pushed her.