“Stop that! And put your seatbelt on!”
“Sorry.” Virgil stopped the rocking, belted up, rolled his window down.
“Not gonna smoke in the van, are you?” Horace said.
“Can’t help it.” He unwrapped the pack from his sleeve, pulled his Zippo from the left front pocket of his jeans, lit the cigarette, took a deep drag. Virgil had arms like an ox, it was a wonder the cigarettes weren’t crushed between the tight fitting T-shirt and his bulging biceps.
“You didn’t give me back my knife,” Virgil said.
Horace handed it over.
Virgil loved that knife. It was the best thing Horace had ever given him. The big guy spent hours flicking the blade. Horace was surprised it still worked. He’d picked it up in Tijuana for almost nothing and expected it to last about a month, but Virgil had been abusing it for a couple of years and it kept on flicking.
“Try to keep the smoke outside.” He shook his head.
A car honked. Horace snapped his attention back to the road. He’d started to drift over into the oncoming traffic. He jerked the van back to the right. “Fuck head.”
“Want me to drive?” Virgil said.
“No.” Horace frowned.
“So, we gonna go home now?”
“No, I still gotta serve those papers, remember?”
“You should get another job.”
“Somebody’s gotta pay the bills. If I didn’t do what I do, we’d all starve.”
“Maybe I could get a job, work at a gas station.”
“That’s a thought, but right now I gotta finish what I promised to do. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“Yeah, I suppose. So, what are you gonna do?”
“I’ll think of something.” But Horace wondered what. If she went to the cops about what happened, they’d give her around the clock protection. He’d never get to her.
Fifteen minutes later, they were in Huntington Beach, passing the Sand and Sea Condos where Margo Kenyon lived. Horace turned left on Main Street, made a U-turn and parked in front of Jerry’s Surf Shop, facing PCH and the condos on the other side of the street. It was a little before nine and though the stores were closed, the restaurants were open. People were out and about.
It was quiet in the van.
Virgil lit another cigarette. Horace wanted to tell him to put it out, but he bit back the words. Instead, he said, “She’s got this fag boyfriend she don’t want anyone to know about, that’s where she’s been all week. That could be good for us, she might think we were a couple a crazies who chased her just ’cuz she was there. She might think she’s safe when she gets back home.”
“She is safe, all you’re doing is giving her those papers, right?” Virgil said.
“Well, la de da,” Horace said, ignoring his brother as a red Porsche convertible turned into the condominium complex. “And they say lightning don’t strike twice.”
“What’s that mean?” Virgil said.
“It means we get a second chance and we better not blow it this time or I’m gonna get fired.” Horace opened the door, changed his mind, closed it again. “And put out that damned cigarette.”
“What are you gonna do?” Virgil stared at the driveway into the Sand and Sea Condos, took a drag, then tossed the cigarette out the window.
“The guard rail’s propped up,” Horace said. “The guard just waved her on in.”
“Maybe he knows her.”
“Maybe he’s lazy.” Horace watched as the woman stuck her hand out the window, pointed it at a sliding fence gate and waited while it opened. “Look, she’s got a clicker to open the gate into the parking lot, that’s why the guard didn’t hassle her. You can’t get into the lot unless you got one of those. We need to get in there.”
“Maybe we should just go home.”
“We can’t to that.” Horace was thinking a mile a minute. He’d have to get the girl, cuff her in the back of the van, then drop Virgil somewhere. Where? Then he saw the theater across the street from the condos. “You wanna see a movie?”
“Yeah, boy!”
“After we get the woman in the van, I’ll drop you at the theater. Then I’ll take her to her husband’s, serve the papers and come back. How’s that sound?”
“Great!” Virgil wiggled in his seat. A dog waiting for a bone.
He started the car, drove past the condos, made a U-turn, parked on the ocean side of PCH. “Now all we gotta do is follow the next guy in.” And as if the Devil heard, a few minutes later a black Ford Taurus passed them and turned into the driveway. Horace had the van behind him in an instant, hugging the Ford’s tail. There were two guys in the guard shack, an old black guy and a much younger white guy. They were talking, probably changing shifts. The fence gate opened for the guy in the Ford. Horace followed him in. The security guys didn’t even notice.
“Piece of cake.” Virgil laughed. Everything was a game to him.
Horace pulled into a vacant spot next to her car and looked down into the Porsche. The top was down. There was a bag of groceries on the passenger seat. “She must have done some shopping before we saw her at the Safeway, ’cuz she sure didn’t buy anything there.” It was a detail that bothered Horace. Why was she in the Safeway? Did she forget something and come back for it? He tried to remember how much stuff was in her shopping cart. Couldn’t.
“So?”
“So, we wait. She couldn’t carry everything in one trip. She’s gotta come back for the rest. She’s also gotta put the top up. Nobody leaves a Porsche open, even if it is in a secured lot. You never know who could get past a pair of dopey guards like that.”
“What are you gonna do when she comes?”
Horace reached past Virgil to the glove box, took out the handcuffs.
“You’re gonna get out. I’m gonna get in the back. You’re gonna grab her and toss her in. Then we’re gonna cuff her to one of those eyebolts above the back wheel wells.” Horace had the eyebolts put in for his dirt bike, no way could the woman pull one out, no one could.
“I don’t think I wanna do this.” Sweat ringed Virgil’s forehead, glistening even in the dark.
“Don’t be a baby.”
“I don’t wanna,” Virgil said.
“I’ll tell Ma you wouldn’t help.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“I would, so just do your part.” Horace clenched his fists. This was stupid. Maybe he should abort.
“I’ll get out soon’s she passes,” Virgil said. “I’ll tap on the door just ’for I grab her, so you’ll know to be ready.”
“That’s more like it.” Horace gripped the steering wheel so hard he thought he was going to break it. It was a stupid plan. He should have hit her back when he’d had the chance, but he’d been too softhearted. Now, luck had given him a perfect opportunity. Perfect except for Virgil. He had to go for it. Besides, fortune had always favored him, no reason she’d let him down now.
“She’s coming.” Virgil was squirming in his seat again.
“Calm down, it’s gonna be alright.”
The woman was wearing hard soled shoes. Her footsteps clicked on the pavement, echoing through the night. Horace was breathing fast, ice shot up his spine. He climbed in the back of the van as Virgil got out. Any second they’d have her inside. It was going to happen.
Virgil slapped the door and the sound ricocheted through the van as he slid it open. She was wearing different clothes, a green skirt and blouse. She must’ve changed the second she got into the house. Horace took his eyes off her clothes and went eyeball to eyeball with her. Recognition filled her face. Now she knew who he was. Virgil had a hand over her mouth. She chomped down on it.
“Owww!” Virgil let her go. Then hit her, a blow to the head and she went down.
