Jeff Abbott - Black Joint Point

‘Uhhhng,’ Stoney said.

Alex grabbed the front of his shirt, shoved him back onto the stairs.

‘Insurance,’ Alex said, ‘can be fucking expensive.’

Stoney spat blood. ‘I can’t believe you hit me, you shit.’ But a little quaver in his voice gave him away.

Alex slapped Stoney, lightly, almost playfully. ‘You steal the Eye from me. You call me, tell me Danny’s got your brother and wants to make a trade. For the Eye. So, what, we give them the fake Eye to save your brother? And I never know the real Eye’s gone? It’s sort of half clever.’

‘Like you’d let me give Danny the Eye. I’m not that stupid. You never would.’ He mopped at his nose. ‘You heard Danny’s friends on the phone.’

‘I did. I’m not impressed. You could have friends I don’t know about, Stoney. Playing a phone prank of sorts. All designed to fool me.’ He grabbed Stoney by the throat. ‘Where’s the Eye?’

‘I won’t-’

Alex ran the match tip – unlit – underneath Stoney’s eyebrows, along the rim of his ear. ‘Does it tickle?’

‘Oh, God, no,’ Stoney said. ‘Please.’

‘I don’t want to burn you.’ Alex struck the match along the wall; it flamed into life. ‘But I will. Start with this. Then I’ll drag you down to your dock. Get some gasoline worked in good on you. Kick it up a notch.’

‘Oh, Mary, mother of God, no,’ Stoney sobbed.

‘Where is it?’

Stoney watched the fire. ‘The Eye’s on the boat. My boat. That’s where I hid it. Danny’s got it. He don’t even know it.’

‘And they’re coming here?’

‘Yes. Please, you can get it then.’

Alex blew out the match.

It was now close to eight.

‘I don’t think the bad guys are showing up, Stoney.’ Alex watched the empty dock from the kitchen’s bay window. The stars had begun to glimmer in the dying summer twilight. ‘I think we’ve been stood up.’

‘Jesus. They said they would bring my brother… for the money after they killed Danny…’

‘You don’t look good, man.’

‘Christ.’ Stoney reached for the whiskey bottle, took a tiny sip. Alex watched. Tiny sips didn’t hurt until you’d taken a hundred of them.

‘I think, Stone Man, you need to prepare yourself for bad news. I think these guys killed your brother and this girl of his. That’s why they’re not showing up. Can’t get the cash for a corpse.’

Stoney let out a blubbery sigh.

‘Now. Danny. He’s out there somewhere.’

Stoney looked up at him, his face as blank as a new blackboard.

‘Let’s say Danny’s still alive. But he’s lost his bargaining chips, ’cause maybe these fuckheads killed your brother and his girl. So he’s got to go somewhere. He’s gonna try to get at you again – he’d rather have the treasure than you in jail, if it’s one or the other. He can hardly accuse you of murder if he’s done the same now. So where would Danny go?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘He’s got friends around here. You know him, Stoney.’

‘No… no one I can think of.’

‘Other folks in the Laffite League?’

‘Some in Corpus, maybe. He’s not well-liked; people think he’s nuts.’

‘Ah. You start making some phone calls.’

The doorbell rang. Stoney froze by the phone.

‘Not a word’ – Alex pulled his gun from the back of his pants, pressed the barrel beneath Stoney’s eye – ‘or I will kill you and whoever’s on the porch. You understand?’

‘Not – not a word,’ Stoney said in a broken voice.

Alex hurried to the front door, quietly. He peered through the peephole.

Some guy, blondish, tall, standing on the porch, looking around. His head a little rounder from the distortion of the glass. Wearing a bright orange tropical shirt.

Alex moved back from the peephole. The doorbell rang again, a knock followed.

Alex waited. He peeked through a living room window, barely edging back the closed curtain, and saw the guy in the driveway, talking on his cell phone. Then clicking off the phone.

A knock again on the door, doorbell ringing.

‘Mr Vaughn? Whit Mosley. I’m the JP here. I can tell you’re home. Would you please open up?’

Alex waited. A few more knocks. After about five minutes Whit Mosley climbed into a Ford Explorer and roared off. Stoney walked back into the foyer.

Alex put the gun on him. ‘A JP’s a judge, right? Why’s he here?’

‘Probably to tell me my brother’s body has been found,’ Stoney said. His voice sounded a lot more even.

‘They’d call. And it wouldn’t be a judge.’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ Stoney said. ‘Put that gun down. I can’t talk to you with it in my face.’

‘You’re not in a position to make demands. You’ve lied to me. We agreed we’d rebury the treasure on the land you bought out at the Point. Discover it together as Laffite’s treasure, make a mint, get famous,’ Alex said.

‘You don’t give a shit about that, Alex,’ Stoney said. ‘Not about the fame. You just want the treasure. But we can both get what we want. We need to work together, stop fucking each other over. Between the murders and now Danny everything’s gone south. I’m making a drink and we can talk.’

He turned and went back into the kitchen. Alex lowered the gun and followed him.

‘Where’s the courage coming from?’ Alex asked. Stoney poured a thin film of bourbon into a glass, topped it off with ice water.

‘From knowing I’m going to make a great deal with you.’

‘So. Deal.’ Alex never enjoyed killing but he thought he would really like killing Stoney, even if it was one bullet and quick, like snapping your fingers.

‘First we have to find Danny. And find my brother.’

‘This whole kidnapping shtick’s not a fake?’

‘I swear, Alex, it isn’t. You can’t take the risk that it’s not.’ He gulped at his drink. ‘Danny could screw us both over, end it for us easy. He’s nuts. He’s not going to behave like a normal human being.’

Alex took a deep breath. ‘So we sit and wait?’

‘I don’t start calling around to Laffite Leaguers, showing an interest in him. They’d remember that later. So get patient. He’s going to call. No way he’s not going to see this through. We wait here, together. You can kill him when he shows up.’

‘Me? Why not you? It’s your fucking brother he took.’

‘Because you’re good at offense. I’m better at defense.’ Stoney put down his drink. ‘And here’s how we both stay happy. I’m willing to give you three-quarters of the gold and silver. You can melt it down or sell the coins on the market. I keep the rest and the Eye. That I rebury on the land, dig back up, have my glory.’

‘As the only discoverer of actual buried pirate treasure in history.’

‘We’re both happy and we don’t commit mutually assured destruction trying to fuck the other over,’ Stoney said.

Alex tented his cheek with his tongue. ‘What about your brother and this cop girlfriend?’

‘They’ll have killed her. My brother, he can be reasoned with.’

‘Your brother might talk,’ Alex said.

‘My brother will never have to work again if he doesn’t want to,’ Stoney said. ‘You don’t worry about him. Now. You can play tough, try to rough me up some more, and completely fuck yourself over. Or you can crash here with me and see if Danny shows up tonight, and then we’re home free. What’s it gonna be?’

Alex crossed his arms. ‘I don’t sleep on couches.’

Gooch thought the Bayou Mee was appropriately named, as the two girls near its parking lot might say, Buy. You. Me. The Tulane Avenue open-court motel was grimy, the dive more residence than family fun stopover. It was a few blocks from the New Orleans Criminal Courts Building and nearby were several bail bond businesses, and Gooch wondered if maybe the Bayou Mee catered to those recently released from jail. He’d seen two women go from the darkened parking lot to rooms with new friends and return in a half hour, but they weren’t shimmying hot-panted rears on the street corner; rather, the two looked more like regular girls, T-shirts and denim shorts, just hanging out in the motel lot, gossiping, and maybe if you knew the password, you’d get a date. Gooch spotted one police cruiser go by, not even tap on its brakes. Late Thursday night, the girls not too busy yet.