Oath of Office

partners. “What kind of guys are we talking about?”

“They look like muscle,” Cap said. “Thick, beefy guys. The kid who called seemed sure they were packing heat, and I don’t think he’s ever wrong about such things.”

“So do we invite them up for a workout?”

“That’s up to you and how interested you are in them.”

“I’m plenty interested.”

“Then we turn the tables and follow them,” Cap said after delivering a right cross that sent Lou staggering backwards off the bag. Sooner or later they’ll get tired of hanging around, and probably nervous, too. I’m betting sooner. This is hardly their kind of neighborhood.”

“How am I gonna tail them in the car that they’ve been tailing?”

“Leave that to me,” Cap said. He smacked the heavy bag one last time, hard enough rattle the chains.

Following Cap’s instructions, Lou grabbed a couple of slices of pizza from Dimitri’s, making a conscious effort not to look around while making the purchase. Outside, the two men in a black Cadillac sedan rolled past, then past again in the other direction.

“Be careful to act nonchalant,” Cap had insisted. “You don’t want these guys getting suspicious.”

Lou carried the pizza box upstairs to his apartment. Once inside, he turned on the TV and took out a slice. He felt like a duck in a carnival shooting gallery walking back and forth in front of his apartment windows while eating a slice of four-cheese with mushrooms, but he wanted to be certain he was seen from the street below.

Again, Cap’s idea, not his.

Lou’s cell phone rang. He stepped away from the windows to answer it.

“They’re on the move,” Cap said. “They think you’re in for the night. Let’s go.”

Lou raced down the back stairwell, threw open the unalarmed fire exit door, and stepped into a narrow alleyway. A beat-up Chevy Prizm, sans hubcaps and the passenger-side mirror, sped down the alley toward him and flashed its lights once. The rear door opened and Lou scrambled into the backseat as the car kept rolling. Then, as soon as he slammed the door, it accelerated.

Cap was driving, but Lou did not recognize the two twenty-something black men in the car with him. The one sitting beside Lou was clean-shaven with short, tightly curled hair. He was big, as in “needs to buy an extra plane ticket to fly” big.

“Ah man, I smell pizza. You bring us any pie?” he asked.

“After we get back to the gym, it’s my treat.”

“Terrific. I do a large with everything. Hold the anchovies.”

“Lou, meet Notso,” Cap said from the driver’s seat.

Notso’s beefy hand enfolded Lou’s like the wrapping on a burrito.

“Notso?” Lou asked.

“His real name is Anthony,” the man riding shotgun said, “but his last name is Brite.”

“Got it,” Lou said, suppressing a smile. “You okay with that, Mr. Brite?”

“My mother’s the one who first called me it, so I guess the answer’s yes.”

“And you would be?” Lou asked the second man.

The man maneuvered around to get a better look at Lou. He was slightly built, a while from his last shave, and was wearing a gray T-shirt, tattered at the neck. His left ear was studded with a lone diamond, while his tortoiseshell glasses gave him an air of intelligence. He reminded Lou of Spike Lee-minus the New York Knicks gear.

“Name’s George,” he said. “George Kozak.”

His hand was to Lou’s as Lou’s was to Notso Brite’s.

“Okay. Notso and George,” Lou said. “Pleased to make your acquaintances. I’m Lou Welcome.”

“That’s Dr. Lou Welcome,” Cap corrected. “So behave or he’ll take out your liver.”

“Fat chance,” George mumbled, turning to face front again. “Yo! Yo!” he cried out. “You’re losing ’em, Cap. Hell, man, you need me to drive?”

“I didn’t even want you to come.”

“Yeah, sure. You know you can’t separate me from my car.”

“That’s right,” Notso chimed in, “or me from my Glock.”

He pulled his handgun from a shoulder holster beneath his black Windbreaker and set it on his lap.

Lou’s heart stopped. Then, with utterly unpleasant slowness, it began pumping again. Two decades in the ER had featured far too many gunshot wounds, and far too many deaths of all ages. He could count the number of times he had held a gun on the fingers of one hand, and could not even stand being this close to one.

Handguns and beets, he had said on more than one occasion, enumerating the two things in the universe he hated most.

“Jesus, Notso, put that thing away!” he snapped.

“Easy, Lou,” Cap said. “The muscle we’re tailing are almost certainly packing. Notso just wants to be prepared. Stow it, big fella.”

Notso looked at Lou queerly and slipped the Glock back into its holster.

“Who the hell are these guys, anyway?” George asked.

“I have no idea. Did you get a look at them?”

“A couple of white guys with thick necks and bulges in their jackets. One of them has a cheesy mustache.”

“Meet any thick-necked white guys lately who’d want to tail you?” Cap asked, making another turn.

“What are they driving?”

“See that Caddy a few cars up ahead?” Cap said.

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s them.”

Lou leaned forward to get a better look. “Don’t know the car,” he said. “Thanks for putting your piece away, Notso. I work in an ER and I’ve seen too many holes in too many people.”

“Don’t worry about my cousin,” George said. “My aunt got it right about him. The only thing we’re going to be shooting with on this trip is my digital camera.”

“What’s the camera for?” Lou asked.

“Information, my friend,” George answered as he snapped a couple of pics of Lou without triggering the flash. “We don’t know what we’re going to find, so this way we can capture the memories.”

“Where’d you get that camera from anyway?” Notso asked. “Yo mama’s so poor, she can’t even pay attention.”

“Funny,” George said, feigning a laugh. “I got it from school, blubber belly. It’s for a project I’m doing.”

“You’re in school?” Lou asked with more incredulity than he had intended.

“Yeah, college,” George said.

“Community college,” Notso corrected.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you bucket of lard. Last time you picked up a book you freaked out because it had already been colored in.” He turned back to Lou. “I’m a sophomore-well, a junior with four more credits.”

“That’s terrific,” Lou said. “What are you majoring in?”

“Biology.”

“He’s learning how to grow weed,” Notso said.

“You wish. Believe me, if I ever start growing weed, you’ll be the last to know.”

Cap groaned his displeasure. “George, will you shut your mouth and keep your eyes locked on that car ahead. This ain’t a joke.”

“Why do you think I called you about them? I know bad when I see it.”

For a short while, the four fell silent. Cap managed to stay four or five cars behind the Caddy without losing sight of it. After a mile or so, it turned onto the highway headed west. Another mile, and Lou had it figured out.

“Cap,” he said. “I believe I know exactly where these guys are headed.”

“Yeah? And where’s that?”