Dave Zeltserman - Small crimes

'Fuck you,' he said.

I think he died then. I looked around and saw a shell casing on the ground. I picked it up and saw that it was a seven-millimeter.

He must've been there for Junior. Maybe when he saw me he decided to kill both of us. Maybe he decided Junior and I were in on Billy's death together. It was probably something like that, but the only thing I knew for sure was if I hadn't doubled over my head would been blown apart instead of Jamie's.

I wiped off the shell casing with my shirt and dropped it back on the ground.

Nobody had bothered coming out of Junior's house. Most likely he had sent his wife and kids away for the night. His nearest neighbor was at least a quarter-mile away, but there was a good chance somebody heard the gunshots and called the police. I wanted to get out of there before they showed up.

I started towards Jamie's car, moving as fast as I could, which wasn't very fast. I was still twenty yards away when I saw the lights flashing. I stood frozen, watching as a sheriff s car pulled up to me. Hal Wheely got out of it. His eyes narrowed as he looked around him.

'Get down on your knees and put your hands on your head,' he ordered.

'Hal, I can explain this.'

He had his gun out, pointing it at me. 'I'm not telling you again,' he said.

I did as he told me. He pulled my arms behind me and slapped cuffs on my wrists. Then he yanked me to my feet.

I hobbled along as he dragged me to his car. When I tried stopping at the rear door, he shook his head. I didn't catch on until he opened his trunk.

'You're kidding,' I said.

But I knew he wasn't, and I knew I had no other choice, so I got in.

I must've been in that trunk for hours. At first it was unbearable. Every bounce felt like a knife ripping into my side. Then my arms and legs started cramping. At some point I must've gotten used to the pain. I had to've because I dozed off. Or maybe I blacked out. In either case, I was gone. Next thing I knew Hal was slapping me in the face and dragging me out of the trunk.

We were in the middle of the woods somewhere. As Wheely dragged me to. the front of the car I could make out a cabin to the left of us. He pushed me onto a dirt path that led to the cabin.

'Hal,' I said, my voice coming out as barely a whisper, 'this doesn't make any sense anymore. It's over.'

'Will you just shut up,' he snapped.

'Did you see the news tonight?'

'Just shut your face!'

He shoved me hard from behind* sending me flopping to the ground. I almost ended up being dragged the rest of the way to the cabin. When we got inside he pushed me over to a wood stove and then used another pair of handcuffs to cuff my right ankle to the stove.

'Unless you can gnaw through bone you're not getting out of there,' he said, showing me a dead smile. 'Will you listen to me, Hal?'

He shook his head and left the cabin.

I was alone for maybe twenty minutes when the door opened and Dan Pleasant and Wheely walked in.

'Jesus, Dan,' I croaked out. "This is all over now. You don't have to do this.'

'How is this all over?' he asked.

'Did you watch the news tonight?'

'Yeah, I watched it. I have to give you credit, Joe, you did a good job screwing us over royally.'

I tried talking, but started coughing instead. My throat was so damn dry. I tried again. "That's not why I did it. Phil can't make a deal with Manny now.'

'He can't, huh? Why not?'

'It would be political suicide.'

His thin smile disappeared as he stared at me. "That's your problem, Joe. You have to make things so damn complicated. You didn't do shit tonight. Phil was politically dead when he was caught in that motel room with that hooker. Nothing you did is going to stop him from making a deal with Manny.'

'Dan, you're wrong,' I said, but as I thought about it I realized he wasn't.

'You don't look so sure of yourself anymore, Joe,' he said. He turned to Wheely. 'Does he Hal?' I watched as Wheely slowly shook his head. Then to me, 'Damn it, Joe, I gave you so many chances and you just kept screwing me and lying to me about it. And after everything I did for you? Goddam it!'

He handed Wheely a flashlight. 'Shine this on him, okay, Hal?' As Wheely shined the light on me, Dan took my picture with a digital camera. He seemed satisfied with the results and put the camera back in its case.

'What are you going to do with that picture?' I asked, my voice now a bare whisper.

'Maybe I'll tell you later,' he said. His pleasant smile came back as he looked at me. 'I can't promise you anything, Joe. The only thing I can tell you now is that I'm going to keep you alive until morning. What happens then, we'll see. Now why don't you tell me what happened at Junior's house?’

‘Why don't we trade?'

'Sorry, it's not going to work that way. Now Joe, I'll tell you, I'd like nothing more right now than to kick the living hell out of you. But I'm going to restrain myself, at least as long as you're cooperating with me. So what happened at Junior's?'

I tried to answer him but I couldn't, my voice was gone. I tried to croak out that I needed water. He looked annoyed. 'Hal, can you get him some water?'

Wheely left the cabin. I heard a car door open and close, and then he came back with a water bottle. He let me have a few sips, just enough so I could talk.

'Two of his boys picked me up outside of WVRT. They were going to torture me in Junior's playroom. I guess Scott Ferguson had gotten it in his head that Junior and I were responsible for his brother Billy's murder.'

My voice cracked on me and Wheely gave me a couple more sips. I cleared my throat and tried again.

'He was hiding in the bushes,' I continued, my voice now a hoarse whisper. 'He must've been lying in wait for Junior. I could tell from the way he smelled that he'd been drinking, but I guess he was sober enough to blow Jamie's head off and cut Duane in half. He tried shooting me a few days ago through my parents' bedroom window.'

'Who shot Ferguson?'

'Duane did.'

'And you worked Junior over?'

I nodded. 'How badly did I hurt him?'

'Not bad enough. He checked into Bradley Memorial, but he'll probably be released by morning. I'll tell you, Joe, that's a nasty cut you got on your cheek.'

'I'll live.'

'Maybe. We'll see.'

He was laughing to himself over that. As he turned to leave, I asked whether he could at least cuff my hands in front of me.

'Sorry, Joe, I can't do that.'

'How about giving me some more water?'

'Not now. We'll see in the morning. Joe, some advice. We're fifty miles away from anyone. Don't bother yelling for help.'

Both of them got a chuckle over that and then they left.

I had a long night after that. The physical pain was bad enough, but then I start thinking about everything I had done to end up where I was and it made me sick inside. I kept playing it over and over in my mind and feeling sicker as I did. Then I started thinking of my daughters. I kept seeing them the way they were in those pictures, and I kept hearing Courtney's voice as it sounded over the phone the other day. I was overcome with such a sense of loss that I started crying. I didn't want to – Jesus, the last thing I wanted was for Dan or any of his boys to walk in on me like that – but I couldn't help myself. It seemed a long time before I was able to stop. Then I started praying. Praying that I could somehow have another chance with my girls. I kept it up until daylight. At some point I went numb, unable to think or feel anything.

It must've been daylight for hours before Dan came back. He was alone and was carrying a small paper bag. He showed me a little smile as he stared at me.

'You haven't been crying, now, have you, Joe?'

'Why don't you just get it over with.'