Marcus Sakey - The Blade Itself

“How?” Karen said, her cheek against his.

“It was the tire marks, the cop said, that gave it away.” Danny sighed, remembering the “of course” feeling. The way the scene had flashed in his imagination, clear in every detail. Dad at the wheel, talk radio playing low, a cigarette in his mouth. The patched seats radiating cold. Suddenly, the sense that something wasn’t quite right. His father pumping the brakes, feeling them go soft. Staring out at the snowy morning, at the lines of cars crowding him.

“Dad swerved into the concrete barrier on purpose.”

“Suicide?” Her voice was incredulous.

Danny shook his head. “His brakes were gone. The roads were icy, and there were a lot of cars. He could have tried to move to the right, off the road, hoped that everyone would get out of his way. But if it didn’t work, he might have crashed into another car. Maybe a family.”

He turned to look at her. “So instead of risking other people, he jerked the wheel to the left. They were widening the road, and there was a concrete construction barrier on that side. The cop said he was going fifty or sixty miles an hour. Dad didn’t have a chance, and he knew it.”

Karen held his gaze, but her eyes were wet.

“I’ve been living with that for years. I had to be escorted to my father’s funeral by marshals. I thought that was bad enough. But worse was that three months later, when they let me out of prison, I went right back to my old life. Oh, I pretended to go straight. I got a new apartment, a job tending bar, but I knew I was bullshitting myself. It wasn’t two months before Evan and I ripped off the manager as he deposited the night’s take, and then it was back to old habits. It wasn’t until the pawnshop that I even started trying to do what I should have done all along. What my dad did without hesitation.”

The memory burned. For a guy who thought he brought intelligence to the table, he’d made a mess of a lot of things. When Evan had come back into his life, they’d sat in a hot dog joint and argued about the reasons, Evan claiming that it was economics, that the system put the gun in his hand. That they were in a fight to the death with the odds stacked against them. In a world where men like his father worked seven days a week just to survive while men like Richard had everything handed to them, he couldn’t deny that there was some truth to the argument. But it was too simple to be complete. Because the fact was that there had been moments when two choices had opened up before him, and he’d made the wrong one. Made it knowing it for what it was.

“No more.” As he said the words, looking into Karen’s eyes, he realized that he meant it. No more fear of consequences. No more convenient wrong choices.

No more smart plays.

And suddenly he knew what to do.

Through the broad front windows, menacing clouds mottled a chill blue sky. The morning sunlight was pewter, stark and lacking warmth. Halloween had always seemed like the first day of winter to Danny, and this year that felt particularly true.

“I’m at the coffee shop.” He heard a faint echo half a heartbeat behind each word. They kept making cell phones smaller instead of making them work. “I’m going to wait a few minutes to be sure. Then I’ll head over.”

“Let me come. I can make the call from anywhere,” Karen said.

“No.”

“Danny-”

“We’ve been over this.” He said it gently.

“I could help. We’re in this together.” She sounded frustrated.

“I know.” He leaned on his elbows to glance out the front window. Traffic seemed normal in both directions, no signs of heightened police presence. He didn’t expect any, but they’d agreed there was no point taking chances. “But if you’re with me, Debbie might spook. This has to go perfectly. Please.”

She sighed. “All right.” He could hear stress beneath her calm.

“We’re going to get through. It’ll be fine.”

“Just be careful, okay?”

“I promise. You have the number?”

She read Nolan’s cell phone number back to him.

“Good. Stay by the phone. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. And listen-” He paused. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”

“Just come home to me.” She hung up.

He took a sip from his coffee and glanced around, more from nerves than necessity. Oversize canvasses painted like comic books hung on the brick walls, and the counter guy had piercings in his eyebrows and those weird metal rings stretching his ears into hoops. The coffeehouse was in the vanguard of gentrification, one of a handful of new businesses trying to capitalize on the building boom in the area. It was a little premature. Ukrainian grandmothers and Latino day laborers still dramatically outnumbered hipsters willing to drop five bucks on a cappuccino. But it fit Danny’s needs perfectly – quiet and empty, with big glass windows opening onto the street. If he craned his neck to the right, he could see the Pike Street construction yard where Debbie watched over Tommy.

The idea had come to him last night. It was a dangerous move, sure, but at least it was a move. Proactive instead of reactive. The idea had popped into his head, and he’d straightened suddenly and said, “Tommy.”

“The boy?” Karen had looked confused.

“He’s the key to all of this. If we take him away, then Evan has nothing.”

She’d stared at him. “He still has a gun.”

“That’s true.” He’d met her gaze. “But at least it’s not pointed at anybody innocent.”

They’d turned the plan over between the two of them, trying to plug holes. After a while they’d gone to bed and made love for the first time in weeks. It had started soft and sweet, but pretty soon they were going at it with a rawness that hadn’t been part of their sex for a long time. Afterward, she’d left her thigh flung across his body and fallen asleep with him still inside her. He lay there like that and stared at the ceiling, turning the plan over in his head.

It was simple enough. Snatch Tommy when Evan wasn’t around. Talk Debbie into hiding out for a little while. Once the boy was safe, Karen would call Nolan from a pay phone and tell him enough about the murder in the diner parking lot to get his attention. Then she’d tell him that the man who committed it would be coming to the Pike Street site later that day. If all went well, Nolan would stake it out and pick Evan up. The guy would have parole violations and probably a weapons charge, more than enough to hold him while the murder charges got sorted out.

What would happen then was a little dicier. But at least Evan wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone again.

He stood up, lacing his fingers and stretching them above his head, feeling his body pop and crack. The counter guy didn’t look up from his novel as Danny stepped outside. Rush hour was largely over, and traffic moved fluidly, battered vans and downscale cars, the occasional cab. He unlocked his truck and hopped in, feeling the chill of the seat through his light jacket.

After turning onto Pike Street, he drove past the construction site, scanning for danger. The slats in the fence made it difficult to see inside, but everything looked normal. He went up a block, came back, and circled again. A couple of cars were parked on the other side of the street, a few pickups, a hot-rod Camaro with tinted windows, but there was no sign of Evan’s Mustang. Perfect. The worst would soon be over.

He pulled up to the gate and stepped out. The wind tugged at his clothes, cold and with a hint of chocolate from the candy factory a mile away. He kept his motions calm and even, inconspicuous. Everything looked right – the trailer was shuttered and dark, the door closed. Debbie’s Tempo sat beside it. Thank God. Evan had called her back in to babysit Tommy and not stayed himself. Danny felt sure that once he explained the plan, she’d come over to his side. She was scared, and would likely jump at any opportunity to get out.