James Swain - Take Down

Where the bodies popped up often indicated where the cheater was caught. The Apex area near Nellis Air Force Base was used by casinos on the north side of town, the roads leading to Mount Charleston were favored by old downtown’s casinos, and State Route 160 from Blue Diamond to Pahrump was popular with casinos on the Strip’s south end. But in terms of sheer numbers, the recreation area around Lake Mead won the prize, with half the city’s nameless graves having been found there, usually near campsites or hiking trails.

Ike took the 215 east into Henderson, got off on Lake Mead Parkway, and followed the signs toward Boulder Basin, a brightly lit Albertsons and Walmart the only stores for miles. It was a different world out here, the vast space easy to get swallowed up in. Billy realized he had broken into a cold sweat, and glanced at his car mates. Ike and T-Bird were sweating as well.

“Tell me how this is going to work,” he said.

“There’s a campsite up the road where we buried Ricky,” Ike said. “We’ll pull in there, and me and T will dig a grave. You’ll shoot the bitch, and we’ll plop her into the ground. That’s about it.”

“What’s Doucette’s role?”

“Doucette sits in his car with his sick wife and watches. They get off on this shit, especially her. She enjoys seeing people suffer.”

“Has she always been like that?”

“Once upon a time, she was cool. Wasn’t she, T?”

“Way cool,” T-Bird said.

“So what happened?”

“Doucette happened,” Ike said. “Shaz went to work stripping for him, and he started sending her down to Tijuana to get naked in a club he owns. Each time she came back, she was loaded with blow. The stuff is ninety percent pure, worth forty grand an ounce. All the strippers in Doucette’s clubs move blow for him. Rock fronts the operation, sells the stuff on the streets.”

“How did she get so messed up?”

“I’m getting to that part,” Ike said. “The girls carry the blow inside of them. Doucette’s rule-he thinks it’s safer that way. Some girls swallow the bags; others shove them up their assholes. Shaz used her pussy. One day she’s driving back from Tijuana and the bag broke. She passed out, crashed the car. Two days later, she woke up half-dead in a hospital bed with a diamond ring on her finger. Doucette married her while she was out.”

“So if she got arrested, she wouldn’t testify against him.”

“You got it.”

“Was she okay with that?”

“Yes and no. She got off on the ring. What made her crazy was that she couldn’t have no babies. The doctors had to take out her sex organs to save her life.”

“They gave her a hysterectomy.”

“Yeah. It screwed up her head. Shaz got out of the hospital and was arraigned. Judge felt sorry for her, gave her probation. That night, she was in the club, drinking champagne at the bar with Doucette. Another stripper comes over, kisses him on the mouth. Shaz grabs the bottle off the bar and crushes her skull. Poor kid bled to death. Shaz laughed over her dying body.”

“She got off on it?”

“Uh-huh. It was scary.”

“She’s a liability. Why doesn’t Doucette get rid of her?”

“She’s his wife. If she disappears, people will start asking questions. He’s stuck with her. Here’s our turn. So what are we going to do? You going to kill this bitch?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Billy said truthfully.

“Well, you’d better decide, because if you don’t, they’re gonna kill you.”

Ike drove down a bumpy gravel road to a deserted campsite. Lake Mead offered cheap lodging to campers and RVs, which included electrical hookups along with water and sewer, and the campsites were often full. This particular campsite was deserted, without a single tent or recreational vehicle. A sign tacked to a pine tree explained the situation.

CAMPSITE CLOSED FOR REPAIRS

USE BOULDER BEACH, CALLVILLE BAY,

OR ECHO BAY UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

A pair of headlights blinked from the other side of the campsite.

“You make up your mind yet?” Ike asked.

“I need to play this situation as it lays. I won’t put either of you in jeopardy.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Ike parked and they climbed out of the Camaro. Billy’s skin was tingling and butterflies filled his stomach. Ike grabbed two shovels from the trunk and tossed one to this partner, striking him in the chest. T-Bird cursed him.

“Chill out,” Ike said.

They crossed the campsite to where the Mercedes was parked beneath the pine trees. The driver window came down and Doucette stuck his head out. He was holding a cell phone and appeared to be taking a call. “What took you so long? You forget how to get here?”

“My car don’t go as fast as yours,” Ike said.

“Here, take this.” Doucette passed Ike a handgun enclosed in plastic wrap. “It’s only got one bullet in the chamber, in case he tries to do something stupid.”

Ike lifted the front of his shirt and slipped the gun behind his belt. Then he and T-Bird walked into a clearing and started to dig, their bodies silhouetted by the moon’s glare.

Billy lingered behind, staring at the Mercedes’s trunk.

“Is she still alive?” he asked.

“She cried all the way here,” Doucette said.

He told himself not to think about it and walked into the clearing. Near where Ike and T-Bird were digging was a fresh mound of earth. Ricky Boswell’s final resting place, he guessed. A flashlight’s beam hit him in the face. Shaz, watching from the car.

“Are they going to join us?” he asked under his breath.

“They don’t want to leave fingerprints, so they stay in the car,” Ike said.

Shaz ran the flashlight’s beam over their faces. She eventually grew bored with the procedure and shut the flashlight off.

“You make up your mind yet?” Ike asked.

“Still working on it,” Billy said.

Soon the grave was ready. Coffin shaped, three feet across, six feet long. Ike tossed his shovel to the ground and went to the Mercedes to tell Doucette it was time. The Mercedes’s trunk popped open. Ike returned to the campsite dragging Mags by the collar of her blouse. She looked bad, hair in her face, sobbing through the duct tape, losing it.

Ike brought her to the edge of the grave, then retreated. Mags found the courage to stop crying and gazed at Billy with the same bewitching eyes that had frozen him on the street corner in Providence so long ago. If he hadn’t jumped into her car that day, he would have gone on to become an engineer or a college professor the way his old man had wanted him to, his life filled with endless repetition and boredom. Mags had changed his universe, and if she died here tonight, a part of him would die as well.

He made Mags face the grave. His lips brushed her ear. Four words came out of his mouth, barely a whisper. Then he stepped back.

The campsite was quiet. No one around for miles. He had never shot anyone before. There was a first time for everything, he supposed.

“Give me the gun,” he said.

Ike drew the gun and tore away the plastic before handing it to him. “You ever shoot a Glock before? There’s nothing to it-just aim and squeeze the trigger.”

“Got it.”

The gun felt heavy in his hand. It was black, boxy, with a dull polycarbonate sheen. He spent a moment finding the sweet spot on the back of Mags’s head that was his target. He took a deep breath. Raising his arm, he aimed, then stole a sideways glance at Ike and T-Bird to gauge their reactions. They had turned into statues, their mouths wide open as if catching flies. He squeezed the trigger. The bang reminded him of a firecracker going off. A tuft of hair flew into the air, and Mags tumbled into the grave. One second she was there, the next, gone. The shot echoed across the distant lake before finally coming to rest.