Still, it wasn’t like I had any other options. I got out and one of the officers with Jimmy immediately spun me around against the car and cuffed my hands behind my back.
“Hey!” Maggie shouted.
“Take it easy,” Robert said, “he’s not a threat.”
Uncuff me and come down here, we’ll test that theory.
The officer eased up on the rough stuff and pulled me away from the car.
“Thanks for coming, partner,” Robert said, walking up to Jimmy and doing one of those hand-shake-into-one-armed bro hugs. “What’s with the vest?” he asked, tapping Jimmy’s chest.
“Figured better safe than sorry,” Jimmy said. “Meet Officers Napoli, Tocco, Whelan, and Hinchey of the Wright Township PD. They’re going to take care of you while we get all this straightened out.”
“Straightened out?” I asked.
“Yes,” Robert said, “as in letting the authorities handle this, which is what we should have done in the first place.”
“You mean the same authorities that tried to have me killed back in Belgium? The same authorities that your buddy Jeff didn’t trust, before he was killed?”
“No, I’m talking about my partner and the police force where I’ve dedicated nearly half my life. And as far as trust goes, Ben, I trust this man right here to protect me and my family far more than any half-assed blackmail scheme you could ever dream up.”
I shook my head and kicked the old Buick three times. “You can’t be this naïve.”
“Put him in the back of your car,” Jimmy said to one of the four officers who collectively sounded like a law firm that ran infomercials on daytime TV.
Have you been assassinated by a hit man due to police corruption? Call Napoli, Tocco, Whelan, and Hinchey to talk about what kind of settlement we can get for you!
I caught a glimpse of Maggie and what I saw in her expression toward Robert gave me a small moment of fatherly pride. It was full of betrayal and anger.
That’s my girl.
“Where’s the other one,” Jimmy asked, “what was her name? Erica?”
“I didn’t see her when we came out,” Denise said as she and Ethan came down the steps. “She must be in one of the rooms.”
“Did you know about this?” I asked her as Officer Whoever sat me in the back of his squad car. Denise didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at me.
“Napoli, Tocco, go inside and find her,” Jimmy said. After they entered the cabin, he turned to Denise and laid his hand gently on her back. “Why don’t you and the kids wait in my car. We’ll all get out of here in a minute, back to the station where it’s safe.”
Safe. Sure. Even if Robert’s right to trust you, Jimmy, he’d be an idiot to trust everyone else. Corruption and the law of averages go hand in hand. Eventually, somebody always takes the bribe.
Denise and the kids settled into the back of Jimmy’s unmarked car while he and Robert remained outside.
“Once we’re at the station we’ll arrange something more secure back home, but it will take a few days to set up,” Jimmy said to Robert. “You’re gonna have to testify. Him too,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to me.
“That won’t be a problem,” Robert said.
“We won’t be alive long enough to even testify at the deposition,” I yelled through the window. Robert glanced up, as if surprised that I’d been able to hear their conversation, then came over and opened my door.
“I’m getting a little sick of this ‘can’t trust anyone’ bullshit,” he said, fuming. “This man’s had my back for over ten years.”
“That’s touching,” I said. “It also means he’ll likely catch the first bullet from whoever Trish gets her claws into at your precinct once she finds out that’s where we are.”
Before Robert could reply, Jimmy said, “Where the hell is your girlfriend?” Then, to the young officer standing by the steps, he said, “Find out what’s taking so long.”
The cop, who looked barely a year out of the academy, said into his walkie, “Aaron, did you find her or what?” He released the button and waited. When no response came from his colleague, he clicked it again and said, “Napoli, Tocco, what’s your status?”
Release.
Silence.
Before he clicked the button a third time, he drew his pistol and held it at his side. “Napoli?”
Pause.
“Tocco?”
No answer.
My eyes were glued to the front door of Aunt Irene’s cabin, right along with Robert’s.
“Sam,” Jimmy said, “go see what’s going on.”
Sam seemed less than enthusiastic to lend his fellow officers a hand. He climbed the stairs like a kid on a dare approaching the neighborhood haunted house, holding his gun like he’d just found it lying on the ground a minute before. The front door hung partially open, but he kicked it as if it were secured by a top-of-the-line dead bolt. It swung in violently and then drifted slowly back on its rusted hinges. He stepped inside, gun sweeping first right, then left.
Well, almost left. If he’d been able to fully check out that side of the living room, he might have seen the person who swung a cast-iron skillet at his face before it connected with his nose, spraying the front porch and doorframe with a geyser of blood. His body hit the wooden planks as total dead weight, his gun skittering unfired from his hand.
“Son of bitch!” Jimmy shouted. The last officer remaining outside, a blonde with former high-school quarterback good looks, panic-fired two shots at the door before Jimmy told him to stand down. Then he and Robert both trained their guns on the door.
