Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Selkie
Ted and Jerry’s is a bust. The only patrons at this hour are roaches and one guy who looks like he had a sleepover. Smart, if you like your breakfast wet and full of hops.
“It’s probably too early,” I say.
Oscar agrees. “Why don’t we hit Toper’s home? I bet he’s still sleeping and if he’s alone, we won’t have any problem grabbing him.”
“There’s no ‘we’, bud. Just me and Brambles.”
He frowns but whatever he’s thinking he keeps to himself.
I cruise through a yellow light and head down to the Reno strip.
“That was a red light,” Oscar observes as he looks back at the intersection.
“It was yellow when I got there.” I glance at him. “I didn’t peg you for a rule follower.”
He deflects. “Not about the rules. I’m not in the mood to get killed.”
I stop abruptly at a red light and he grabs the dash. “Then quit distracting me.”
He looks towards the heavens. “You know where the guy lives?”
“Of course I don’t.” I grab my phone from my purse and show it my face. It cooperates and lets me into my entire life.
“Light’s green,” Oscar observes.
“Just a sec,” I reply as I try to find my List app among the 600 apps I have.
He grabs the phone out of my hand. “I’ll look, you drive.”
Christ, he’s bossy. And so’s the guy in the car behind me, laying on his horn like he has a fire to go to. “Fine. It’s in my List app under Payday.”
“Do you actually use all these apps?” he grumbles as he pages through window after window of apps.
“Yes,” I lie.
“You know you can organize them under headings. You put a bunch of similar apps inside a kind of summary app. Like social media or games.”
“I know,” I lie again. “Between camping, entertaining you and chasing bad guys, I don’t have time to do it.”
“Found it,” he says as I cruise down Evans Ave.
“So where’s he live?”
He scowls. “I said I found the app, now I have to find the right list.”
“I said it’s under Payday.”
“You have eight Payday lists!”
“I’ve never had trouble finding the right list.”
His frustration bubbles over. “Turn right at the next light! But could you look both ways before you do.”
“Holy. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” he grumbles.
I decide a little cooperation is in order if I’m gonna get to Toper before my competition does so I look both ways and add a shoulder check.
Then because I can’t help myself, I say, “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
“I’m sure. I’ve GPSed it.”
“Excellent,” I say as I whip around another corner and head down Plumb Street.
“I never said to go down Plum Street!”
“You gotta navigate as fast as I drive.”
“Maybe you should slow down.”
I ease off the gas. “Happy?”
He sighs. “You gotta turn around. He lives on Harold Street.”
When we finally get to Harold Street, we trip down it slowly. “This is a shit… uh, slum… uh, underprivileged area of Reno.” I say. “Why’s rich boy Toper living here?”
Oscar shrugs at my rhetorical question. “You’ll have to ask him.” He points his finger at a run-down apartment building. “There.”
I turn down a back alley, then park near a pile of rubbish, which is next to several other piles of rubbish, which are all next to several overflowing rubbish bins. “It’s a wonderful world, isn’t it?”
Oscar doesn’t reply, but his nod speaks for him.
“Number of the apartment?” I ask.
“303. And don’t you think the other bounty hunters would think to come here too?”
“Recovery agents,” I remind him. “And maybe, but stereotypically speaking, my kind likes to sleep in.”
“But not you?”
“Never,” I say, slightly stretching the truth.
He looks at the building. “What if he’s not in?”
“We start cruising again.” I unbuckle and open the car door.
“Wait,” Oscar says.
I stop and look back. “What?”
“Are you sure you wanna do this alone? I mean, I could come with you. Have your back.”
“I don’t have a death wish, Oscar. If you got hurt or killed, your dad might get a little pissed.”
“It’ll be easy. You go in first, Brambles follows, I bring up the rear. I’m not gonna get hurt. I’m just gonna help you secure the guy.”
“That’s not how it works. Brambles goes in first. I bring up the rear and you stay in the car with the doors locked.”
He crosses his arms and thumps against the back of the seat like Henri does. “Lame,” he snipes, also sounding like Henri.
I step out of the car, check to make sure I have my gun and taser. I nod towards my cell, which Oscar is still holding. “If I’m not back in 30, call your dad.”
He looks at the phone. “Is it in here?”
“Yeah. In the List app under possible paydays.”
His eyes widen. “Are you kidding me?”
I grin. “Yeah. I am. He’s in my contacts.”
“You’re funny,” he mutters in a way that makes me think he’s lying.
But whatever. “Brambles, let’s go.”
Brambles jumps out joyfully, then looks expectantly back at Oscar his tail wagging enthusiastically.
“He stays.”
Brambles sits.
“Not you! Oscar.”
He cocks his head.
“Can you believe he’s a Mensa candidate?” I say to Oscar.
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Oscar replies.
I lock and close the car door and then mime for Oscar to lock his. He rolls his eyes, but I’m pretty good at charades and he thumbs down the button.
“Let’s go,” I say to Brambles, who gets to his feet and walks next to me, casting a woeful glance over his shoulder at Oscar.
“Forget about him,” I tell him. “You need to stay focused. We bring Toper in, you get a new frisbee.”
We round the corner of the building and stroll to the lobby door, which is just a hole in the building. Once again I wonder why rich-boy Toper lives in such a dump. Maybe I’ll ask him after I get him handcuffed and in the backseat of the car.
The elevator doors are wide open, but it’s out of service, which doesn’t matter, because Brambles is claustrophobic and also, because there’s a guy wearing a bowler hat inside it, laying on the floor.
He’s not moving and my conscience tells me to make sure he’s alive, but if I do and he isn’t, then I’ll get delayed and someone else will scoop my payday.
Fortunately, my dilemma is resolved as bowler hat guy lets out a big snore.
“Dodged that one, didn’t we?” I say to Brambles who lolls his tongue in reply.
We pick our way up the stairs to the third floor, me leading, Brambles following. When we get to 303, I test the handle, but I already know it’s unlocked because there’s a hole where the bolt used to be.
I ease open the door and peer inside.
Calling it a shithole would be generous. It smells like bodily fluids, spoiled food, and pineapple. The paint is peeling, the floor is littered with clothes, garbage and what appears to be a decomposing rodent the size of a cat.
The three-legged coffee table is propped up by a six-pack of shit beer and it has drug paraphernalia scattered across it. The bathroom door is missing and a quick glance inside to make sure Toper isn’t sleeping in the tub makes the bile rise in my throat.
“Pee in there at your own risk,” I warn Brambles.
He likes to live on the edge, so he lifts his leg and aims for the toilet. Misses of course.
The bedroom door is wide open and when I peek inside, I find Toper sprawled face down across a stained futon, snoring like he’s trying to win a world record.
His head is shaved and he’s so thin his spine is jutting out from his back.
He’s got a bunch of gang tattoos which are easy to see because the only thing he’s wearing is black boxer briefs.
I glance at Brambles who glances back at me. It’s go time. I pull out my gun as my canine partner squeezes by me, knocking me into the doorframe.
“What the hell is wrong with you!” I hiss as I regain my balance. I’m supposed to bag the payday, he’s supposed to have my back. It’s the way we’ve always done it.
That convo will have to wait until later.
Brambles leaps at Toper, then springboards off his back towards the open window as the tail of a cat disappears.
Fuck! He thinks the cat’s the payday.
“Brambles!” I shout as he disappears. I hear the clang of his nails on steel, then the thud of his paws fading as he clambers down the fire escape.
“What the fuck!” Toper snarls as he sits up in bed, instantly awake.
I aim my gun towards him. “Stay where you are! You are a wanted felon and I’m authorized to haul your ass to the police station.”
It’s not quite the right lines, but Toper gets the gist of it as he jumps off the bed. I think he’s about to attack me and I aim my gun harder. I’ve never pulled the trigger, but I’m allowed to if threatened with bodily harm.
However, that’s not what’s on Toper’s mind. Instead of coming towards me, he turns and throws himself through the open window much like Brambles did.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter as I holster my gun and climb out the window after him. I hate fire escapes because they’re always rickety, and this one is no exception as the metal protests my weight with squeaks and groans.
Toper’s got a good head start and runs pretty fast for a skinny drug addict in bare feet. Brambles is nowhere to be seen, so I can’t even use him to takedown my mark.
By the time I get to the ground, Toper’s lurched around the corner of the building and bolting down the alley where I parked my car.
Fuck and double fuck. Oscar’s right in the path of this asshole. “Stop!” I yell as I follow him around the corner.
He’s at my car, running at full speed, about to pass it on the passenger side.
Just as I cry, “Shit!” The passenger door opens and Toper bounces off it, then drops to the pavement like a rag doll.
Oscar steps out of the car and contemplates him as I come puffing up.
“What the hell are you doing!” I yell, my heart in my throat as I imagine Toper grabbing Oscar and using him as a shield.
He narrows his eyes. “Having your back.”
“I told you to stay in the car.”
“I did stay in the car! I only opened the door!”
I blow out a deep breath. Let it go, Selkie. Let it go. I’ve got the mark and the payday’s sweet, so why am I bitching about something that didn’t happen? Besides, he’s a future gang member. This is good practice for him.
So instead of harping on about it, I grudgingly say, “You did good.”
“Thanks,” he mutters. He looks down at Toper, who’s holding his guts and moaning. “Hospital or cop shop, do you think?”
I glance at Toper’s underwear. They look like they haven’t been washed in a decade. “Cop shop. I don’t want him in my car any longer than he has to be.”
Oscar points back down the alley. “I saw Brambles running after a cat. He went that way.”
I’m half tempted to leave the bastard behind, but I love him almost as much as I love Henri. Maybe even more. “I guess we better pick him up.”
I take out my cuffs and toss them to Oscar. “You caught him, you cuff him.”
His smile lights up his face and a thrill goes through me knowing I did that. Made him happy. Made him smile.
I blow it by giving him a delighted wink.
He grimaces and shakes his head. Henri would have said, ‘OK Boomer’ to emphasize how uncool I am. I say it back to her when she’s being bossy. She doesn’t like it either.
I roll Toper to his stomach and hold his arms as Oscar drops to his knees, pressing one on Toper’s head to keep him down. Then he puts on the cuffs making sure they’re tight.
“You done this before?” I ask. “Because that is truly a professional cuffing.”
“Yeah, I have,” he says shortly. No follow-up explanation, but why would I expect one. He’s Eight’s son.
Oscar and I heave Toper to his feet and into the back seat of the car. I have to admit the kid’s a lot more help than Brambles.
He gets in the car and buckles up. “Let’s go,” he says like he’s Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry.
I think he might be having the time of his life. Which makes me feel smug. Which makes me think of Henri. Which makes me wonder if she too is having the time of her life.