Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Selkie
I’m like a proud mother as I drive towards the Reno Police Station.
Oscar sits beside me with a silly grin on his face.
“Exciting, huh?” I say.
He schools his features. “I didn’t mind it.”
“Don’t be such a teenager.”
“I can’t help it,” Oscar replies.
Toper’s in the backseat. Brambles is next to him, sitting on his haunches and staring menacingly. Say what you want about the dog, but the aspect of intimidation is one of his favourite things to do.
It’s clear in the tone of Toper’s voice that Brambles is succeeding. “Get the dog to back off.”
“I can’t control him,” I reply. “And don’t nudge him or anything. He’ll rip your face off and then you’ll bleed all over my car.”
Brambles growls low in his throat as if he understands the game.
“Listen,” Toper says. “I got loads of money. You let me go, I’ll get some for you. This can go away.”
I pretend I’m contemplating it. “How much?”
Oscar gasps. “You can’t let him go.”
How did a father like Eight get a kid like Oscar? “What would your father do?”
“Take him in!” Oscar exclaims.
“Really,” I reply, genuinely confused. “Because, you know, he’s a member of Hell’s Jury and all.”
Oscar groans. “Don’t share information like that in front of the enemy.”
“Doesn’t everyone know?”
“I doubt it. And the assh—Toper doesn’t need to know your association with Hell’s Jury.”
I think about it. He’s probably right. “You’re probably right.”
“I am right!”
Toper interrupts our little spat. “About the money?”
“No!” Oscar snarls as he twists to face him. “You’re goin’ down.”
“I have no choice but to take you in,” I say to Toper. “I already logged you in. So you’re basically screwed.”
I glance at Oscar who nods.
“You know who I am, bitch?” Toper spits.
I look over at Oscar. “Do you know who he is?”
Oscar plays along. “Let me check.” He pretends to look at my phone. “Reese Toper. Middle name Eamon.” He rolls his eyes and mutters, “Rich people and their stupid names.”
“I hear that,” I reply.
“Lives at 303 Harold Street. I mean lived at.” Oscar smirks as he points at the screen of the phone. “Says here he has more money than brains.”
I feel triumphant. He’s got game after all.
“Don’t fucking play dumb with me,” Toper says. “311 Boys ring any bells?”
I look at Oscar. “Are they friends of yours?”
Oscar shakes his head. “Never heard of them. You?”
“They’re gonna fuck you up when they hear about this!” Toper snarls.
Brambles doesn’t like the snarl and does a better one along with a deep guttural growl low in his throat.
“Get this fucking dog away from me!”
I have seriously had enough. My tires screech as I hit the brakes and pull up to a bus stop.
Then I pull my gun, twist around and aim it at Toper. “I don’t have time for you, you piece of shit. So shut up and suck it up or I’ll pull the trigger and solve the problem myself.”
Toper looks from the gun to me then back to the gun. He doesn’t know if I’m serious, which of course I’m not. Then he presses his lips together and makes the right choice. The rest of the trip is blessedly silent, Oscar side-eyeing me all the way.
It’s a cool five-grand payday and I haven’t seen that much money since Affleck and Lopez got engaged the first time.
“Want to go for burgers?” I ask Oscar.
“Sure,” he says. Then he adds, “You wouldn’t have really shot Toper, would you?”
“Of course not. But rich boys rub me the wrong way and this one was a whiny little bugger.” I glance at him. “Would your dad have?”
Oscar shakes his head. “Not in his truck anyway.”
After burgers and the murder room, we head home.
When I get there, mom is waiting in the driveway, dressed for work, keys in hand. “How’d it go?” she asks.
“Got him,” Oscar replies grimly.
I shrug. “Thanks to Oscar.”
We then go on the describe what happened.
Mom overlooks the fact that I used a 12-year-old boy to help me catch a wanted criminal. “How much did you make?”
Oscar starts to speak but I stamp his foot. “Two grand,” I lie.
Oscar grunts in pain as Mom claps her hands. “That’s wonderful!” she exclaims.
“It is!” I reply. “And $1500 is all yours.” The rest will go towards my overdrawn credit card.
She wrinkles her forehead. “Are you sure you only need $500.”
I nod. “I’m feeling lucky, so I think I can bag a couple of other lowlifes this week. Then we’ll be rolling in it.”
Mom’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas. “That would be fantastic!” She looks at her watch. “My shift starts soon so I better go. I haven’t made lunch or anything so you’ll have to fend for yourselves.”
“We ate,” Oscar says.
“Celebratory burgers,” I add quickly before she thinks we dined at a four-star Michelin. She thinks I eat out too much. She’s probably right, but in my books, cooking ranks right down there with cleaning toilets.
After mom leaves, I turn to Oscar. “When it comes to my mom, she’s on the need-to-know list. Less is more.”
He narrows his eyes at me, then turns his back and walks inside.
The next morning I wake up early, feeling the ebb and flow of panic. I lay in bed for a moment catching my breath as I think of Henri. She’s with Eight. She’s with a Hell’s Jury gang member. And it was my fucking idea. What kind of a mother am I?
And then to assuage my guilt a little, I ask myself what kind of a mother is my mother? She barely batted an eyelash when I explained the Henri/Oscar trade. It’s clear she doesn’t understand the difference between right and wrong. Why didn’t she insist I return Oscar immediately and get Henri back?
I groan as I bury my head in my pillow. I have to give Oscar back to Eight today. Exchange him for Henri.
Do it now, Selkie! I say sternly to myself as I start to get up.
Why the rush, Selkie?
I lay back down. If something happened to Henri yesterday, Eight would have called.
And neither Eight nor Henri will be up at this time of the morning.
Why shouldn’t I get a couple of hours more sleep so I’m clearheaded when I talk to Eight?
That way, I won’t hurt his feelings when I explain why she has to come home.
Hahaha, Selkie. You’re so funny. Like Eight’s going to object to getting rid of Henri.
Yeah, well. Then I drift off.
The next time I open my eyes, mom is looming over me. “I’ve been thinking,” she says.
I stretch as I squint at her. “Good morning to you too.”
She ignores my sarcasm. “I think you should get Henri back.”
“I’ve already decided to.” I cup my hand over my mouth to see how bad my breath is.
Mom carries on as if I hadn’t spoken. “It’s not good having her exposed to Hell’s Jury. They’re a terrible influence. Who knows what could happen?”
I sit up. “I already decided to,” I repeat. “And where was the concerned grandma yesterday when I brought Oscar home?”
She ignores me again. “I thought you had better judgement! You take Oscar home and get Henri.”
I stretch my back. “I was already gonna do that.”
“And now! I don’t know where you got your mothering skills from, but not from me.”
“I’m going,” I reply to the woman I got my mothering skills from.
“Good,” she says emphatically, then looks around. “And clean your room when you get back.”
Oscar’s sitting on the couch watching TV when I stagger down the stairs desperately needing a caffeine hit. His blankets are neatly folded with his pillow sitting on top of them.
“I’m hungry,” he says as I hit the landing. “It’s practically 10 o’clock.”
“Good morning to you too,” I reply.
“Good morning,” he mumbles as his face flushes.
I plop down next to him on the couch and he edges away. I so want to reach out and ruffle his hair, then give him a noogie, but I remind myself that he isn’t Henri. She’d get annoyed, wrestle with me, then we’d settle down and watch TV together for an hour.
I sigh as I think of her. She’s never really hungry on a weekend morning. It’s one of the things I like about her.
“Don’t be offended,” I say. “But l’ve decided that I have to get Henri back and give you back to your dad. It’s nothing you did, it’s just that…” I trail off because I think anything else will sound insulting.
“Good,” Oscar replies. “I was thinking that myself.” He punches the couch. “It’s too lumpy to sleep on and there’s nothing to do here.”
“Don’t worry,” I say sarcastically. “I’m not offended.”
I manage to get a cup and a half down me and feed Oscar three scrambled eggs and two slices of toast when mom walks in, freshly showered, looking like a beauty queen.
“Why are you still here?” she says to me, then turns to Oscar. “I wish you could stay longer because it’s so nice to have you around, but Selkie has decided to return you and get Henri back.”
Throwing me under the bus is an Olympic sport for her.
Oscar shrugs as he stuffs the last of his toast in his mouth. “Fine by me.”
Once we’re on the road, I say to Oscar, “You’re gonna have to point the way to your house.”
“No kidding,” Oscar mutters. It’s like all the shared camaraderie we had yesterday has disappeared over night.
“I don’t get why you want to go home,” I say, feeling hurt. “I thought we had fun yesterday.”
He shrugs as he looks out the side window. “It was okay.”
“We haven’t solved the problem between you and Henri.”
He rolls his eyes. “When you make the exchange with dad, I’ll convince Henri to call a truce. Okay?”
“Sure,” I reply, thinking that’ll be easier said than done.
As I follow Oscar’s directions, I glance at a side street, then brake so hard, Oscar has to grab the dashboard. “Holy shit!” I exclaim. “It’s Sadie.”
A car beeps loudly behind me. I wave as I pull into a tow away zone.
“I thought you got Sadie,” Oscar says as we watch the Blackbeard strolling along.
I scramble to take off my seat belt. “I did, then I didn’t. Long story. No time to explain. This is my second chance.”
My luck really is changing.
I shove open the car door. “Stay here and lock the doors.”
Oscar huffs. “You’re in a tow away zone and you don’t got Brambles.”
Good grief. “Move the car and don’t worry about Brambles. I’ll think of something.”
“I’m 12. I can’t drive yet.” He opens his door and gets out.
“Stay put,” I tell him.
He crosses his arms and leans against the car. “Staying put,” he replies dryly.
I take off after Sadie, making sure my gun’s where it needs to be.