“How do you know that?”
“I heard it from a reliable source.”
“Who?”
He paused. “A Whiteburn girl he was fucking when the fiancee wasn’t around.”
“Nice.”
“You gotta do what you gotta do.”
“One of life’s essential guidelines.”
“Ms. Lee, are we done?”
“I think so,” Ava said.
“Would you do me a small favour?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Could you let your Chinese friend know that I was helpful — ”
“Of course,” Ava said, cutting off the rest of the sequence.
She sat quietly at the desk, then pulled up a photo of Lily Simmons and Jeremy Ashton on her computer. She tried to imagine Simmons naked, being spanked, Ashton’s thin, ferrety face hovering over her, his penis heading for her mouth. Ava shuddered. Likeable or not, Ashton was turning out to be a lot more interesting than she’d thought he would be.
(28)
Her three boys were waiting anxiously in the lobby. Ava strode up to them confidently and nodded. “Let’s go,” she said.
As they drove out of Las Vegas and into the desert, she kept up a steady stream of questions. How did Martin do at the craps table? Did the boys play baccarat? What time did they go to sleep? What time did they wake up? What did they have for breakfast? Back and forth she went in English and Cantonese, trying to keep their minds off what lay ahead, trying to make the day as normal as any other.
When they were five minutes from The Oasis, she told Martin to pull over. They sat on the shoulder as cars passed from either direction. Finally the road was clear. “Open the trunk,” she said.
She gave Carlo the paper bag with the gun. “It’s loaded but the safety is on.”
She gave Andy the bag with the meat cleaver. He looked inside and smiled.
“Andy, you get in the trunk first, and then you, Carlo. Now listen, if by some fluke security stops Martin and forces him to open it, don’t react. Carlo, no gunplay, do you understand?”
“Nothing?”
“You roll over and play dead.”
“Okay, boss.”
“Cellphones off?”
They nodded.
“Fine, get in.”
Andy got in first. He lay on his side, his face turned towards them. Carlo joined him, his position identical. Ava kissed Martin on both cheeks. “I thought about this last night, and I’m convinced it will be smooth sailing. So no worrying, okay?”
“I’m ready.”
She squeezed into the trunk, her ribs protesting. She lay on her good side, her face pressed again the wall. Martin closed the lid gently. The last thing she saw was his eyes, full of concern but not fear.
The air inside the trunk was stale, and Ava had trouble breathing. It’s just my imagination, she told herself. There’s no danger of running out of air. Behind her, Carlo and Andy lay absolutely still. They smelled like baby powder.
The car stopped, and Ava guessed they were at the first security gate. It started forward again almost immediately, turning left, and she remembered there was a stoplight at the off-ramp to the road leading into The Oasis.
The car stopped again. She counted. At fifteen it crept back into motion.
I hope the guards wave Martin through, Ava thought, but they stopped again. It was quiet; she imagined that Martin’s ID was being examined. Don’t say too much, she thought. Keep it simple. She waited for the car to move, but instead she heard the door open. Behind her, Carlo stiffened. “ Momentai,” she whispered, but there was a lump in her chest and sweat was beading on her forehead.
The car door closed. Silence. Ava closed her eyes, convinced that the next time she opened them a strange face would be staring down at her. Then she heard Martin’s voice and heard the door open again, then slam shut. The car moved forward. She could feel Carlo relax behind her. “I told you, no problem,” she said.
Ava began to count again. At thirty-six the car came to a halt. At forty-two it reversed. At fifty-five the trunk popped open. She raised herself on one elbow and peeked out. Nothing. No one. Ignoring the pain in her body, she climbed out and stood beside Douglas’s garage door. Andy and Carlo were right behind her.
Martin was standing beside the car. When they were all out, he closed the trunk. “I don’t see anyone at a window or the door,” he said quietly.
“What happened with the guard?” she asked.
“He took my ID into the security office and then made me get out of the car to get it back.”
“Lazy.”
“Whatever. I wasn’t going to argue with him.”
Ava scanned the street. There wasn’t a soul in sight. She wasn’t surprised; it was hardly the kind of neighbourhood where people went for strolls or lounged on their front porches.
“Okay, walk to the door. We’ll be behind you. When you get to the door, we’ll get on either side of it so they can’t see us through the door window or the peephole. Then you give it a good knock. When they open the door, take two steps back. We’ll take it from there.”
“And you want me to stay in the car?”
“I think that’s best, unless you want to head back to Vegas. I could phone you when we need you to come back.”
He looked doubtful. “This is nerve-wracking. Let’s get this over with and then I’ll decide.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Ava said.
Martin shrugged, took a deep breath, and turned the corner onto the walkway leading to the house. Ava tucked in behind him and the boys followed, clutching their paper bags. They separated at the door, Ava going to the left, Carlo and Andy standing with their backs pressed against the garage wall on the right.
“Do it,” she said.
Martin lifted the metal knocker and rapped. Then he stood back and waited. He was reaching for the knocker again when the door swung open. “You’re early,” a voice said.
Martin took two steps back and Ava slipped in front of him. She looked up to see the pale, fleshy face of the man in the white tracksuit who had attacked her in the parking lot. He stared at her, puzzled. He doesn’t recognize me, she thought, as she drove the phoenix-eye fist into his stomach, just below the ribs. He yelled in pain, then spun backwards and gagged. Ava pivoted to his right side, twisted her hips, and drove the toe of her Cole Haan pump into his ear. That’s how you kick someone in the head, she thought. He stumbled into the house and collapsed onto a white shag carpet.
She moved past him, Carlo and Andy flanking her, their weapons now in plain sight. Ava scanned the ground floor. It was one large room set up as separate areas. On the right was the den, which had a black leather couch, a La-Z-Boy recliner, and an enormous home entertainment centre. On her immediate left was a sitting area with two upholstered loveseats covered in plastic and a wooden coffee table. There were three doors in front of her. Two were closed but one was open; she could see a refrigerator.
Then a new player stepped into the kitchen doorway. The man was at least six foot six and as heavy as Ava, Carlo, and Andy combined. His long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail and his tanned face was dotted with pockmarks. He stared at Ava, a mixture of anger and curiosity in his blue eyes. “What the fuck do you think you’re
