Chapter 12 At the Hanging Stoplight
At the Hanging Stoplight
ACE LOOKED at the guy in the kitchen with irritation. It was true—he’d suspected he and Sonny might be in some danger, but he was pretty sure once he left the garage in the flashy car, and made a big deal about it, Sonny would be safe.
This asshole here, with the limp and the it’s-been-a-while-since-hot-water smell, had blown that idea right out of the water, and Ace was grateful to the guy and the risk he’d taken, but he was also… out of sorts.
Sonny was squinting at him. “Wait,” he said, trying to put this moment into perspective. “Didn’t I shoot you?”
“Yes,” said the man simply. “But you could have shot me in the head, and you did not. And then he—” He nodded at Ace. “—could have dropped me off in the desert to die, and he dropped me off at an urgent care clinic instead.” He leveled a sad-eyed, stubbled gaze at Ace. “I owed you.”
Ace massaged the bridge of his nose. God save him from debts like this one. “Well, we appreciate the warning,” he said, hoping it came with more grace than he felt. “You don’t happen to know how to work on cars, do you?”
Sonny glanced at him. “Why do you need someone who can work on cars?”
Ace shot him an unhappy look. “Because we need to get you out of here, but we need somebody to work the shop! Sonny, we can’t just clear out—we’ll never be able to come back.
This is our home! I’ve got plans to help Brady, mind you, but…
.” He massaged the bridge of his nose again.
“But I wanted a place to come home to,” he added rather plaintively.
“I can work on cars,” said their unwelcome visitor.
Ace stared at him. “Do you even got a name, son?”
“Dimitri,” said the man, shrugging. “Last name varies.”
Ace and Sonny blinked at each other.
“Oddly enough, we’ve got IDs and car registration for that exact guy,” Ace muttered. Although this thin, bedraggled specimen with the lank hair and wispy beard looked nothing like Jai, who often went by Dimitri when they were forging IDs for him.
Come to think of it, this guy was Sonny’s size—they might even have clothes and coveralls for him too.
Sonny glanced at Ace. “Whatcha thinkin’?”
Ace gnawed his lower lip. “I’m thinkin’ Dimitri here might want a shower and a shave and some clean clothes after he finishes off his pizza. What do you think, sir?”
Dimitri glanced up from the pizza. It was the first thing they’d offered after he’d wandered out of the desert to stand gazing at Sonny and Ace’s front door.
The dog had gone absolutely batshit, and they finally glanced out to see what was up and had seen him out there, gazing at their little house like their porch light was the golden light of a chorus of angels.
The expression on his face now was that same soulful yearning.
“A bath?” he asked. “Clean clothes?” He swallowed. “A razor?” He scratched at his wispy beard. “It fuckin’ itches,” he muttered.
Ace thought of his travel kit, with the disposable razor, hotel soaps, and conditioners.
“Yeah,” he said. “Sure. Sonny, you wanna get the kit out of my suitcase—and one of the towels from the mudroom.”
The mudroom towels were the ones that never quite got the smell of grease out of them. Ace hated to give him one, but they had been washed and dried as often as possible, and while thin in places, they wouldn’t spread motor oil all over this poor man’s ass.
And they wouldn’t have to worry about his critters getting in their clothes.
Dimitri shoved the last of the pizza in his mouth and swallowed.
“Them cops,” he muttered. “I-I was in the homeless shelter in Barstow when some of them came in, looking for that bank robber. And one of the folks in there said, ‘Wait a minute—that’s not a bank robber. I was at the bank that day—that’s the cop that they were gonna kill!
’” He gave Ace a bleak expression. “They took that guy outside. I didn’t see him again. ”
Ace got a sick feeling in his stomach. “Was he a shelter resident?” he asked.
He knew that the homeless population out here was pretty mobile.
Big rigs, farm trucks, railroad tracks—when the weather was temperate like it was now, the guy getting his SSI check in Baker could very well be in a shelter in Barstow.
“Yeah,” said Dimitri, sounding sad. “Before they got to us, he told me the guy the cops were looking for had been good to him. Had been the one to take him to the bank, to show him where the banks were on his route. Hooked him up with the shelter people. I-I don’t know what they did with him. Maybe he’s in jail.”
And that there sounded like the most hopeful possibility.
“Why do you think that’s a danger to us?” Ace asked.
“’Cause the other guy next to me seen that cop car hanging out here,” said Dimitri. “He knew the place across the highway. I guess….” He shrugged. “The night clerk at the convenience store sells good meth.”
Ace scrubbed his face. Important to know, but that would be another adventure. “What did you tell him?”
Dimitri shrugged. “I couldn’t tell him anything.
I did not know this man. If I tell him not to mention you, he knows I know who you are.
I told him I was going to the john,” he said bluntly.
“I grabbed a sandwich, a bottle of water, and left. That was this morning.” He glanced at his empty plate, and Ace got him another slice of pizza. “Spasibo.”
“You’re welcome.” Ace blew out a breath and looked up to see Sonny walking back in and gesturing to the bathroom.
“All set,” he said quietly.
“Thanks, Sonny. We got any more of Ernie’s donuts? I’m thinking Dimitri here’s gonna want dessert.”
“Sure, Ace.”
Ace could have done it himself—preferred to have, actually—but Sonny got nervous with people. If he had a thing to do, such as set a table, fix a car, walk a dog, he forgot he wasn’t great with the human race in general. Sometimes.
And then Ace asked a stupid question. “Dimitri, I… I gotta tell you, didn’t I drop you off in LA? How in the hell did you get to Barstow?”
Dimitri stared at him with swimming eyes. “I…. You were right. I had nowhere to go. I thought at first I’d come here and kill you. Get revenge. But after the hospital kicked me out, and I had no food, no water, no money, I remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
“You gave me food and water. I’d shown up to kill you with no conscience, no care that what I was doing was wrong.
You shot me—’cause that’s how the world works, right?
Your man shot me because I would have killed him.
And then he put me in the garage and kept me alive.
Food. Water. Painkiller. It was more than I’d done for any human in my life, and you did it for me.
So I thought… I had no idea where you were.
I came from Russia to Vegas—lived in Vegas for ten years.
Never went to LA until you dropped me off in the middle of it.
Halfway from LA to wherever the hell this is, I started to wonder.
Why kill you? You had done nothing to me I didn’t earn.
And then I….” He tilted his head, and water rimmed his eyes.
“You told me, and I didn’t believe you. My whole syndicate, every friend I’d ever had—gone.
Dead or in the wind. And if they were in the wind, they wouldn’t be thinking of me.
In fact the closest thing I had to family had just shot me in the leg, kept me alive, and dropped me off at the clinic. I….”
He gave a weak, sad smile. “I really do know how to work on cars. I could sleep in a tent in the desert. I would bathe in your garden hose next to your house. A little money. A little kindness….” What came next was almost a sob. “But I get none of those things if the police kill you, do I?”
Ace took a breath. “Nope, Dimitri—and it’s not a lot to ask.
And you’re right. It all goes away if they come here asking questions.
” He gave a sigh. Yeah, he was moved. Full of trust?
Well, no. “Look—so you know? Me and Sonny sleep with weapons under our pillows.” He didn’t say they were knives, because Sonny was just too damned trigger happy to keep a gun nearby, but armed was scary enough.
“And we’ll be taking your clothes to wash and any weapons you have.
” He grimaced in distaste. “Unless… you know. You’re carrying anything someplace we can’t see. ”
Dimitri’s grimace felt like looking in the mirror. “Ouch,” he said simply. “I knew men who would do this. Fucking ouch.”
Still, Ace was sleeping with one eye open.
“Agreed,” he said simply. “And I’ll tell you what.
While you’re in the shower, I’ll start making calls.
Your news means we gotta change up our plans a little.
We can’t shut down the shop—we can’t. We shut it down, the cops’ll be all over our ass.
But I can leave you and Sonny here to watch the store.
The cops come, you say your boss is gone for the day, but you got a shitton of work to do.
Feel free to call me names if you want. But if I leave nobody here, I don’t got no hope of getting back to having a home left. ”
Dimitri nodded hungrily. “A shower?” he practically begged.
“Yeah. Soon as you’re done with your dessert.”
Ace was on the phone texting everybody almost before Dimitri left the table.
YOU’RE LETTING him WHAT? That was Burton—he got protective over Ace, which was sweet, but Ace didn’t feel it was an all-caps sitch, not yet.
He’s sleeping on my couch.
Uhm, Ace? Texted George. Didn’t he try to kill Sonny and Ernie?
He did. Look, he coulda come up and shot us through the front of the house, no worries, if that was what he’d planned. He wanted to warn us. I guess he was trying to get back here to, uhm, ask us for help?
I could take care of him so quick and easy, Ace, Burton said, and Ace grimaced. You wouldn’t even have to remember he was in your living room.
NO. We WILL NOT KILL the man who just offered to help us out tomorrow.
How? Oh God. That was Jason.