Sonny drew the gun from its holster. It was an S amp;W. 45 with a black grip and a stainless steel slide and body. Sonny worked the slide and dropped a round into the chamber. He squinted as he inspected the gun.
“Shaved numbers,” said Sonny. “I reckon I’m in big trouble if they pick me up.”
Wayne laughed.
“Plus, I’m a parole violator,” said Sonny. “I haven’t reported to my supervisor but one time since I got out. Never did pee in no cup. I just left and picked up Wayne, my old cell mate, and came straight down to War-shington via West Virginia to get my money. Imagine my surprise when I found out that my money is gone.”
“I didn’t take it.”
“Yeah, I’m in a world of trouble if I cross paths with the law.” Sonny stepped close to Ben. The flames from the candles reflected in his black, empty eyes. “But I don’t care. I want you to know it. I plain don’t give a fuck.”
“I saw it,” said Ben. “It was in an old gym bag. But I didn’t take it.”
“ ’Scuse me if I can’t believe that.”
“We left it there.”
“You mean, you and your partner, Chris. The both of you.”
“That’s right,” said Ben, holding Sonny’s stare. “We saw it, but we left it where it was at. Someone broke into that house after and took it. I know because we had to go back and fix the carpet.”
“It wasn’t you. It was someone else.”
“Yes.”
“So you told someone ’bout the money.”
“No,” said Ben.
Sonny cocked back the hammer of the gun and locked it in place. He touched the barrel to the corner of Ben’s eye. Ben turned his head, and Sonny pressed the tip of the barrel tighter to his flesh.
“Liar,” said Sonny. “I’m only gonna ask you one more time. Who took my money?”
“I… don’t know.”
Sonny held the gun in place. Ben heard clawed feet gaining purchase on concrete, and a scampering sound. He closed his eyes.
“I was wrong about you,” said Sonny, standing straight, dropping the gun to his side. He took several steps back. “I thought you was a soft one. I guess now I’ll have to talk to your friend Chris. ’Cause you damn sure ain’t gonna talk. Makes me think you got the code of the jailhouse in you. You ever done time, Ben?”
“Juvenile,” said Ben softly.
“Me, too,” said Sonny. “They had me up in that boy’s reformatory in Sabillasville. I wasn’t so bad when I went in. But they cured me of any goodness I had by the time I came out. That’s what that place did for me. It made me well.”
“I’m thirsty.”
“I know it, fella.” Sonny holstered his gun. “Wayne?”
Wayne’s tattooed arm arced into the light. Ben gasped as he saw the blade swing toward him, and his eyes crossed as the knife pierced his chest and entered his heart.
The force of the blow knocked Ben off the chair. Wayne stood over him and with his face contorted, he grunted and came down with the knife, rabbit-punching, stabbing Ben’s torso, his abdomen, his neck. Ben writhed and cried out, and Wayne did not stop. Ben went into shock, and chopping sounds filled the room as Wayne worked on.
“Wayne,” said Sonny.
Wayne stood, spent with exhaustion. His latex gloves and forearms were dark with blood. The front of his T- shirt was soaked with it. Bloodied hair had fallen about his face.
“He ain’t nothin now,” said Wayne, his eyes bright. “Is he, Sonny? Is he.”
“You did end him,” said Sonny. “Get his wallet and cell if he has one. Seal this shithole up and I’ll meet you out at the car.”
Ten minutes later, Wayne Minors crept out of the shadows of the school property, opened the gate, and looped its padlock and chain through the links of the fence so that it appeared to have been undisturbed.
On the street, Sonny Wade sat patiently behind the wheel of his Mercury, waiting for his little friend.
TWENTY
Chris Flynn stopped by Ben’s apartment house on Monday morning, as he usually did, to pick him up for work. Normally, as Chris neared Ben’s place, he gave him a heads-up via cell or, if they couldn’t connect in that manner, through a text message. But Ben had replied to neither, so Chris got out of the van, walked into the building, and knocked on Ben’s door. He tried it the soft way and even gave it the cop knock, but there was no response.
Heading back to the parking lot, he phoned Renee.
“Ben over there?” he said.
“Uh-uh,” said Renee. Her voice was raspy, and Chris assumed that he had woken her up. “He stayed at his place last night. We were together all afternoon.”
“You haven’t spoke to him since?”
“I called him late to say good night, but he didn’t pick up.”
“Well, he’s not in his apartment,” said Chris. “Either that or he’s in bed and not answering the door. Not answering his cell, either.”
“Ben wouldn’t do you like that.” After a pause Renee said, “Now you got me worried.”
“He’ll turn up,” said Chris.
“Call me when you hook up with him. I’ll text him soon as we cut off, and if he gets back to me I’ll hit you up.”
“Okay, Renee. Thanks.”
Chris called his father. He briefly considered telling him that Ben had phoned in sick, but he decided to be truthful, take the hit, and say that Ben was MIA.
“This is bad,” said Thomas Flynn. “You’ve got two jobs today.”
“I know.”
“Why would he do this to us? To you.”
“We don’t know that he’s done anything. You should wait to speak to him before you pass judgment.”
“Thanks for the lecture. But see, I’m trying to run a business. If he went out and overdid it, and now he’s got the Irish flu, that’s not something I can excuse.”
“You don’t know that. He could have taken a walk and got hit by a car. Could be he’s lying in a hospital bed right now, somethin like that.”
“If you think so, then maybe you ought to call the police.”
“No,” said Chris, too quickly. “I don’t think we need to go there just yet.”
“Fine. You better get on out to the warehouse, then. I’ll pull Hector off Isaac’s crew, and the two of you can work today’s jobs.”
“Okay, Dad. Okay.”
Chris stood by the white cargo van but didn’t get in right away. Ben had no relatives that Chris knew of, and a small circle of friends. It was possible that Lawrence Newhouse had got up with him and they had been clubbing, drinking, or drugging, spending some of the money Lawrence had stolen. Chris would be disappointed in Ben if that were the case, but it was understandable. Ben was a young man, and maybe he was still bitter about having left the cash in the row house and wanted to try some of it out. Chris didn’t know how to get up with Lawrence and he really didn’t care to. But Ali would find a way to reach Lawrence. And it could be that Ali had heard from Ben.
Chris phoned Ali and had a brief conversation. Later in the day, while Chris was doing an install, Ali reached him on his cell and told him that he had spoken to Lawrence, who claimed he hadn’t seen or heard from Ben.
Chris and Hector finished the job. Hector was animated as always, moving quickly while he talked, humming and making jokes. Chris worked quietly, with a gathering sense of dread.
That evening, Amanda stood in the kitchen and listened as Flynn spoke to their son from their house phone.
