Peter Leonard - Trust Me

"I'm trying to keep a low profile," Karen said.

"You're doing a good job," Virginia said. "What's this, your incognito outfit?"

Karen didn't say anything.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I got my money back from Samir," Karen said.

"He must've been in a good mood that day," Virginia said.

A petite Asian girl in a red dress trimmed in gold brought menus and asked Virginia if she wanted something to drink. She ordered egg rolls and a Bud Light. Karen said she was fine.

"He didn't give it to me, I took it," Karen said and told her how she did it.

Virginia said, "No wonder they're looking for you."

"Who're you talking about?" Karen said.

"This big dude named O'Clair came in the store."

Karen said, "How do you know it's O'Clair?"

"Fly's got him in the dungeon," Virginia said.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"That's what I'm doing," Virginia said. "I'm telling you. It just happened. I invited him over."

Karen shook her head. "You invited him over? Tell me you're kidding."

The waitress brought Virginia's beer and walked away.

Virginia picked up the bottle and took a drink. "And Mother told me some girl came to the house looking for you. Said her name's Missy O'Hara and she went to Garden City with you."

"Missy O'Hara's got MS," Karen said. "She's in a wheelchair." Well it wasn't Missy O'Hara, so who was it?

"Things are a little crazy, aren't they?" Virginia said.

"You could say that," Karen said. "What did you tell Fly?"

"It's girls' night out. He thinks I'm having dinner with you and Mother."

"What's he going to do with O'Clair?"

"What do you want him to do?"

"Keep him till I leave town. Did you bring the passport?"

"I couldn't find it," Virginia said, and drank her beer.

"Mother said she was going to leave it on the kitchen counter."

"I'm sorry, it wasn't there and she wasn't either."

Now what was she going to do? "When I get somewhere you can mail it to me."

"Let's just go get it."

"It's too dangerous. Somebody could be watching the house." Karen didn't want to involve her mother and sister in this mess. She had stayed away from her mom's on purpose, thinking that whoever was looking for her would go there first.

Virginia said, "I've got an idea."

Her idea was to have Karen drive them to Garden City and park on Burnley, the street behind their mom's house. Virginia would run through the backyard, get the passport and come right back. It'll take like two minutes.

"Somebody might see you," Karen said.

"It's dark out," Virginia said. "And I'm going to be so fast nobody will have a chance to see me."

Karen didn't like it.

Virginia told her she was overreacting, and Karen finally gave in, thinking maybe she was right. Now she was sitting in the Krippendorfs' driveway, looking at the back of her mother's house. There were lights on in the kitchen and her mom's bedroom. Virginia had been gone five minutes and Karen was getting anxious. She tried her sister's cell phone, and it went to voice mail. She tried her mother's phone and it was busy. Her mom didn't have call waiting, didn't think it was necessary. Karen pictured Virginia waiting for their mother, a talker, to get off the phone. She sat there for five more minutes, regretting coming here. It was dumb, but it was too late to change it. She got out of the car and snuck through the Krippendorfs' yard to the back of her mother's house and looked in the kitchen window. She didn't see anyone. There was a freshly lit cigarette-a Virginia Slim-her mother's brand, in an ashtray on the counter, smoke drifting up to the recessed lights in the ceiling. She moved across the back of the house and looked in the dining room. It was dark. Karen didn't see anyone or hear anything. She went around the side of the house, ducked behind an evergreen and scanned the street. She didn't see a red Mustang or a black Escalade or Ricky's Lexus, and moved back around the house and opened the door and went in the kitchen. The cigarette had burned down to ash and filter. She closed the door and heard someone behind her. Bobby came out of the pantry, a grin on his face, aiming the. 32 at her.

"I wondered if I'd get another chance," Bobby said, "and here you are."

"Where are my mom and sister?" Karen said.

"Where's my money?"

"It's in a safe place," Karen said.

"It better be."

They went in the living room. Her mother and Virginia were on the floor, looking up at her. Their wrists and ankles were duct-taped together, and there were strips of tape over their mouths. A little blonde was sitting in one of the blue wingback chairs, holding a gun, a revolver that looked big in her tiny hand.

Bobby said, "Look who's here." And to the little blonde he said, "I told you she'd come in."

The blonde looked at him and yawned. "Yeah, you really know what you're doing." She said it sarcastic.

"Mom, I'm sorry about this," Karen said.

"Isn't that precious," Bobby said.

Karen could see tears in her mother's eyes, and she felt awful. She hadn't wanted to involve her family and now they were in the middle of it. Bobby slipped the. 32 in the front pocket of his khakis and picked up a roll of silver duct tape that was on the coffee table.

"Give me your hands," Bobby said.

Karen put her hands together and moved her arms toward him. He ripped a twelve-inch strip off the roll and looped it twice around her wrists, taping them together.

"Where's the money?" Bobby said to her.

"At a friend's house," Karen said.

"A friend's, huh? Must be somebody you trust a whole lot," Bobby said. "We're going to go get it, and we're going to leave Mom and Sis here with my associate."

The blonde got up and stuck the revolver in the waist of her black capris and said, "I've got an idea, why don't you stay here with Mom and the freak and I'll go with her and get the money."

"What's the matter," Bobby said, "don't you trust me?"

The blonde said, "Are you going to screw up like you did last time?"

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

O'Clair opened his eyes. He was groggy, trying to focus, trying to figure out where he was. A voice said, "It's about fucking time." And now the biker appeared, standing in front of him. "Hell, I was starting to wonder about you."

O'Clair was sitting in a chair in a basement room, wrists held tight by leather restraints attached to chains that were bolted to the wall. His mind flashed back to the biker coming up behind him and hitting him, and then something heavy crashed into the back of his head. He couldn't believe these two amateurs had taken him. Jesus Christ, it was embarrassing. "What'd she hit me with?"

"Cast iron skillet," Fly said.

"You going to tell me what you want?" O'Clair pulled on the chains with his arms but couldn't budge them, the leather restraints strained but held his wrists tight.

"Give it a rest, " Fly said. "That's high tensile steel. You're not going to get out till I let you out. Now tell me what you're doing here?"

"Looking for Karen," O'Clair said, and noticed he had a blue-green fly tattooed on his neck and barbed wire that wrapped around his biceps, the tat for idiots with no imagination

Fly said, "What the hell you want her for?"

"She stole some money," O'Clair said.

"It must've been a lot," Fly said. "You're a real high roller, aren't you? Got that '99 Caddy and twenty-eight bucks in your wallet. Man, I'm impressed."

Fly wore a black leather vest with nothing under it, his fat gut hanging over his belt. "Belongs to a guy I work for," O'Clair said. "She ripped him off for over a million."

Fly rubbed his chest. He had a heavy beard but not much body hair, and he smelled.