Part 17 (2/2)

But she stopped as abruptly as she had started. ”Show me.”

”Show-”

”What you promised.”

He pulled out the box, showed her the cache within. s.h.i.+t, he didn't have papers. How was he going to make use of it?

”That sure is pretty,” she said, running her fingers over its surface. ”When it's empty, can I have it?”

”Ain't gonna be empty for a while. There's more than an evening of fun here.” Trying to hook her, set up the long-term play.

”Maybe you could put it in a Baggie, let me have the box tonight.”

”I don't know....” He was reluctant to give up the box, for reasons he wasn't sure he could explain even to himself. Glory began kissing him again and this time added the extra touch of placing one shy but game hand down the waistband of his pants. Okay, maybe she could have the box. He put the top back on it and returned it to his pocket so his hands could tend to her. Dancing, she had looked young, a babyish fourteen who just happened to have a grown girl's body. He hadn't counted on getting a lot from her. But now she seemed ready to do just about anything. He was trying to figure out if he should let it go now, give himself up to that warm hand or get her somewhere he could get inside her. Maybe if he sat down on the toilet seat and pulled her on him- ”What the f.u.c.k you doing?”

The stuck door was dislodged with such force that it caught Lloyd in the back, catapulting him forward into Glory, who all but fell into the toilet, which made her sputter and squawk in indignation. It would have been funny if he hadn't been scared to death. Lloyd grabbed her and swung around, so she was between him and the invader, a tall guy with dark, angry eyes. And a gun. f.u.c.k, even in the country, the n.i.g.g.as had guns.

”You her boyfriend?” he asked, trying to think how he would plead his case.

”I'm her brother.”

A boyfriend, Lloyd might could deal with. It would still be bad, he'd probably get the c.r.a.p beat out of him, but a boyfriend might get that it was an honest mistake, the kind anyone can make when a girl leads you to a bathroom and begins kissing you. After all, if this was Glory's boyfriend, that was probably how they had started. A brother-no chance. A brother would kill you if he could, just like that scene in Scarface. Lloyd did the only thing that seemed likely to save his a.s.s, dropping to his knees and crawling out from under the stall, then running full-tilt into the club, trying to lose himself in the crowd.

He thought he heard a shot but told himself it had to be something else, a balloon popping, a car backfiring. At any rate, he didn't look back, just kept running for the door. Out on the street-f.u.c.k, no Crow. No Crow! And Lloyd didn't have time to look for his worthless a.s.s. He just had to run as fast and far as he could and hope he was running away from trouble, not into it.

An hour before Teen Night was to end, Crow returned to the street with two new cell phones and a couple of magazines he had been delighted to find at the local Sh.o.r.e Farms-the Atlantic and Harper's. He ran the heater as necessary, dispelling the chill from the car. The solitude was a nice break. He hadn't really been alone since Lloyd had shown up on the doorstep Tuesday morning. He liked the kid, who could be good company when he wasn't brooding or complaining, but it was nice to be alone, too.

As midnight approached, other cars began pulling up, parents fetching their kids. Crow hung back, aware that he was all too visible, a white guy picking up someone who obviously was not his son or younger brother. Ed was right. They had to be careful about drawing attention to themselves.

It was only when the bouncer, the one who earlier had denied him entrance to the club, padlocked the door that Crow realized that Lloyd was never coming out.

PART THREE.

TINY TOWNS.

SUNDAY.

23.

Tess? It's Whitney. Just FYI-an IRS agent called out of the blue, wants to go over the foundation's books. Not a problem, but I thought it was awfully coincidental.”

”Hey, hon, it's Kitty. This man-I didn't get his name-came by the bookstore late, just before closing. He wanted to talk to me about my arrest outside Supermax, when I was protesting the Thanos execution. He had a photo. Of me, that is. He's tall, African-American, close-cropped hair, maybe thirty. He would be handsome if he smiled.”

”Tess, it's your mother-” But that one she answered.

”Hey, Mom. What's up?” As if Tess didn't know. She had been getting these calls and messages all weekend.

”Not much. A strange man just rang our doorbell, said we should talk to you about what you were ”into.” An FBI agent, very nice, but I let him know in no uncertain terms that I work for NSA and I am not intimidated by such tactics, that he had another think coming if he thought-”

”Great, Mom. Is Dad there? Did they talk to him?”

Her father picked up another extension, but Tess could still hear her mother breathing on the line.

”Hey, Dad.”

”Hey.”

”So who talked to you?”

”IRS.”

”You worried?”

”Not really.”

Patrick was the world's most laconic Irishman, but Tess was expert at listening to what he didn't say, and the anxiety in his silences was chilling. It was one thing to destroy her own life by keeping her promises to Crow and Lloyd. And even Whitney had sort of signed up for this. But her parents hadn't. She wondered how long it would be until Crow's parents were called, what insinuating questions would be poured into their ears. That would be unfortunate on many levels. For one thing it would alert them to the fact that their son was missing.

She a.s.sured her parents that everything would be fine and hoped it wasn't a lie. She then called Tyner, told him to be on standby, certain that the three caballeros, as she now thought of them, would come for her again. And, sure enough, Jenkins and Collins arrived just after eleven.

”Back to the courthouse?” she asked, trying for chipper but coming closer to chirpy, her voice high and crackly as a teenage boy's.

”For now,” Jenkins said. ”But don't be surprised if you end the day in federal lockup.”

”What, you're going to charge me with a crime?”

”Probably,” Jenkins said, expressionless. Collins simply smiled a terrible smile.

Crow had driven around Salisbury until dawn, but he couldn't imagine where Lloyd had gone, not in the short term. The kid had probably headed back to Baltimore, catching a ride with someone who lived west of Salisbury, planning to hitchhike the rest of the way. Scared for his life just five days ago, he was now bored out of his mind and wanted to go home. With someone like Lloyd, boredom trumped mortality. Father Rob had warned Crow about that. It had probably been a plan, using the club as a ruse to get away.

Of course he couldn't have known, going in, that he and Crow would be separated. But he had seen the opportunity once it presented itself, concocted a plan on the spot. Lloyd was smart that way.

Stupid, too.

At least Crow could go home now. Or would, once he called Tess and told her Lloyd was missing. He hoped that information wouldn't make her waver in her resolve to protect Lloyd. Then again, if Lloyd was stupid enough to go back to Baltimore, maybe he didn't deserve their protection anymore.

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