CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Glock To My Head
LAKE
The Luna motel isn’t a place I wanna be tonight. It’s dark and chilly. Rain appears suddenly, just like me, waiting to betray my dealer I held loyalty to for years. That same man killed a guy. Could’ve been at this location, and he framed my woman for it. My wife.
Once me, Jimena, and Brooks clawed out all the details, we created a plan. It started with Jimena suggesting I reach out to TC and Brooks breathing down my damn neck as I spat out a message. He said I lost the privilege of privacy. That ended with Jimena needing to keep Brooks and me at opposite ends of the room.
I apologized to TC for ghosting him and followed it by lying about ODing again. He made me promise to meet him before sending a time and place. The icing on the cake was him arranging to meet me here.
Brooks and Jimena have front row seats for whatever is about to happen. They’re my getaway drivers, but they’re acting like an action movie is about to be performed before their eyes.
Jimena props her feet up on the glove box. I wait for Brooks to holler at her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches his hand into the console and snacks on chips. The console has three bags of chips and a bowl of candy.
I’m glad they’re enjoying the circus.
We’re shifting into phase two. I’ll head to TC’s room, gather the info, and make a swift exit. The hope is that I’ll do it without raising suspicion, and without getting my beat. My body can’t handle another fight.
“Alright, I’ll be back.” I pull off my jacket and leave it in the car.
Can’t believe I’m here without being high or wanting to get high. My sole motive is to handle this for Serenity, ending this hell for her. I have tons of memories here that self-doubt would usually love jumping at, but my anger is taking over every other thought and emotion.
I sprint through the parking lot and hook my hand around the metal railing, clanking up the stairs. Brooks motions from the SUV, whisking his hands around his head.
Right. I lean over the railing, letting the rain splash in my hair and mess it all up. Then I hover under the slim roof for shelter from the droplets. I meet room 117 and give a knock. TC takes thirty seconds to answer.
“Lake!” He smiles. “Long time no see.”
If it wasn’t for his voice, I would’ve had a tough time recognizing him. His beard isn’t faded and groomed to its usual perfection. The bags under his eyes are deeper, darker, and more defined. Weird for him. He enjoys looking polished.
“Hey man.” I scratch at my arm. I gotta act desperate, like I’m out of it. Hence the abandoned jacket and damp, messy hair.
It’s easy to act like I’m in agony. I can’t explain how badly I wanna buy H, but I need this information more. My wife is my primary focus. She always will be, no matter how far away from her I am.
He pulls his charm-filled chain out from beneath his shirt collar. “Come in, you look freezing.”
I step inside his hotel room, making the effort to turn my head while I glance around. Two people passed out on the king-sized mattress. I gotta stare at the one girl for a second to make sure she’s still breathing. There’s white powder surrounding them, needles on the table, and a charred spoon.
TC shuffles past me and opens the middle dresser drawer. He sticks his hand underneath it and plucks out a makeshift key.
“Been a while huh, Lake? In and out of the hospital?”
I nod, keeping my eyes wide and erratic for the sake of this damn narrative. But that’s not a hard task either.
Is this the life I was living a few months ago?
He gets on his knees, sliding the multi-stained carpet closer to my feet, and he shoves the key into a wooden panel, forcing it out of the floor. He’s far from being an idiot. TC only keeps enough drugs in one spot for the number of clients he schedules that day, and a little extra in case anyone shows up desperate.
His only problem is his ego. He’s underestimated me the whole time I’ve known him. Not that I blame him. I’m the one who’d come crawling over begging for more stuff that’d kill me, but that doesn’t mean I’m a moron.
I know where he stashes his supplies, at the Luna, and other places. I also know that he drugged me so I’d forget him killing a guy. He also, guess what? Killed a guy.
“Half a gram, yeah?”
I scratch my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut. “Yeah, yeah, Sounds good man.”
He grins again, pulling out a tiny baggy, but then he pauses before dragging out a second bag. “If you’re gonna come around again, Lake, do you think you can help me promote this new stuff?”
Thanks for the perfect way to slip this conversation through the cracks.
I snicker, swiping my arm across my nose. “You always got new stuff. Always good.”
He hums. “That’s right, do you wanna try?”
My instant nod is a muscle reaction. I can’t dwell on how damn disappointing that is, so I steady my focus. “Remember that other stuff you got me that one time? When you picked me up?”
He goes stiff for a split second, then recovering. “Yeah, you want some of that?”
“Yeah man.” Scratch. “Had me good, especially when we were in that forest. What was it laced with?”
His lips twitch, and he studies me with dark green eyes that are so bland and flat compared to Serenity’s.
“We can’t talk about that, okay Lake?”
I shuffle forward. “Yeah, okay, sure, man. Can we just get this done?” I scrape at my head, then pick the skin on my forearm.
I’m sweating from how damn nervous I am. At least that’s pushing my desperate persona. TC is on edge, too. His forced smile is faltering, showing the truth behind it, and his shoulders are squared up at his ears.
Since he’s antsy, and I don’t wanna be here, I might as well get this over with. So, I balance my breathing before saying, “I won’t tell no one about the body.”
He’s not on edge, he’s already fallen off of the cliff. My mouth doesn’t even close before he tears out his pistol from the back of his waistband, aiming it straight at my head. He peers at the two passed out women, making sure they’re still asleep.
“What are you doing, Lake?” he asks.
I raise my hands. “Don’t want no trouble, come on.”
“Are you tryna get free stuff?” He trembles, and I realize he’s no longer pretending to play a saving father. He’s money, business, and nothing else.
I shake my head, because I’m trying to get a confession, or fresh clues that’ll draw out a damn confession, anyway.
“Stop talking about that.” He sighs and waves the gun. “Have you mentioned it to anyone else?”
Just a few. But don’t worry, TC, or Dom, cause documents say that’s your name. The two I told are one-hundred percent not waiting for me downstairs. Safe to say they’re not listening to this conversation.
“About what?” I sniffle, acting unbothered and confused. “The body that girl and you buried?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lake, you were high.” He pinches the skin on his forehead. “Do you want your H or not?”
TC has no damn idea how badly I want my fix, but my angel deserves to live her life free of all this pain and suffering. There’s no way I’m letting her go to prison for a crime she didn’t do. Hell, if she killed anyone, I’d frame myself.
He can shoot me in the skull for all I care, as long as I set Serenity free, but I need more information in order to get that done. He’s not denying my allegations, but he hasn’t confessed either.
I crack my neck, lowering my hand to scratch at my face. “Man, I’m not gonna say nothing, okay? Won’t even talk about the bag.”
He raises an eyebrow. “The bag?”
I nod. “Yeah, yeah, y’know? The bag with the bloody clothes in it?” I snap my fingers. “Oh, and the hand y’all threw into that other forest? Must’ve been an accident—”
He snaps again, charging right for me and grabbing at my shirt. “Shut up,” he demands, slamming the barrel of his gun against my forehead.
I got no memory of a hand, or them chucking it, but the police statements say Mancini’s hand was shot off. So I’m running with it.
“I’m not fucking around today,” he adds.
I notice the redness spreading around his eyes. So he ain’t just antsy, he’s on something, and that’s not helping his paranoia. TC only does coke when he’s stressed. Something’s stuck up his crack, and I bet everything it’s related to my wife.
“Man, can I just get my H?” I dig into my pocket, pulling out three twenties and a ten. “Take the gun away from my head, please.”
TC huffs. “Are we good?”
“Yeah. Come on, TC.” I shrug my shoulders. “I’m losing my damn mind over here.”
He takes the gun away from my skull. I try my hardest not to punch him in the throat or show my obstructing temper. Just need a little more. Another ounce. Any bit of a confession and I’m good. I’ve got her. She’ll be okay.
The car. Serenity’s car.
“You had a different car that night. I liked that car.” I watch him pick up the two baggies. “Always made me jumpy to hop in the back of that SUV you got. I worried a cruiser was gonna get suspect.”
“Yeah. Wasn’t my car. It was my old girlfriend’s,” he mumbles. “Sometimes showing all your cards isn’t a good thing. I liked that car, too.”
Sure he did. Maybe cause it would’ve smelled like happy yellow daffodils and sips of sunshine before he used it to dispose of a body.
He shakes his head to himself. “Now you gotta drop it, okay? You said we’re good.” He swipes at his nose, his eyes flicking to the covered window. “Extra seventy if you want the new stuff.” His thumb keeps the baggies secure in his palm, just in case I try to snatch them and run.
I’m dealing with a paranoid man on a coke bender. He’s got a loaded gun he’s already slammed against my head. He’s not beyond killing someone. My best course of action would be to rush out of here and reevaluate, but I feel close to a damn confession.
I’m not backing down.
“Alright.” I bow my head and play my role as I count out another seventy bucks. “We’re solid, TC. Not gonna tell nobody you killed that guy. Don’t care.”
His open hand closes into a fist, and he shoves me back, tossing the baggies aside and cocking his gun. “Get the fuck out, Lake.”
I stumble further than I need to, still moving like I’m messed up. My mother and I should’ve both gone into acting. Although Ma will die on the floor for attention, but it’s hard for me to keep myself straight. I wanna punch him for every dime and second of agony he’s put Serenity through.
He pushes out his neck. “Or I’ll kill you too, and I don’t want another mess to clean up and bury.”
My lips seal shut. I gotta force my muscles to hold back the giddiest grin of my entire life, and I toss my hands up. “Just give me my smack, dude!”
“No.” The gun returns to aiming between my eyes. “Get the fuck out.”
Keep throwing him off. Protect my wife.
“Come on.” I hold out my cash. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
He fires his gun at the wall next to me, causing my heart to flip and the two girls to wake up screaming in fear, but TC shouts over them both, “out!”
I think I sold this well enough. I’m not tryna get killed, so I bolt out the damn door. Brooks gives me a thumbs up from the comfort of the SUV, so I book it even faster. Jimena’s next to him, doing a dance. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and end the call with Brooks. For extra measure, Jimena recorded the call on her phone, too.
That was the plan. Triple coverage to make sure we kept a record of the conversation.
My hand grips the railing when the rain almost trips me, but I recover my balance and race for my life back through the parking lot. The adrenaline keeps coursing through me as I dive into the backseat.
Jimena squeals, giving me a high five. “Yes, Lake!”
“You okay?” Brooks asks. He shifts us into drive and speeds off before I buckle myself in. Just in case TC tries to hunt me down.
Little terrified, but at least I had some worry for my own life, and I’m a step closer to saving Serenity. “Yeah, I’m good.”
***
After the weirdest sleep on Brooks’ couch, and a bad dream of TC misfiring his weapon, Brooks brings me to the detective’s department.
I feel nothing but shock as he strides up to three different officers and fist pumps them. They all know my brother by name. I hide behind him as he speaks to an investigator. She’s not the one on Mancini’s case, but she knows who is, and Brooks’ established authority gets us moving.
“My kids love the new place, Brooks. The yard’s great for them.”
Ah. He sold them all houses. That’s the reason they admire him and give him whatever he requests. Including a private, personal file on Serenity. They frame her and toss her information out at strangers, but claim they’re not corrupt.
Brooks flashes a smile. “That’s great! I knew it would work out well for your family.”
The professional Brooks confuses the crap out of me. I’m never getting used to it. Each day at work, when he takes a call, he morphs into a different guy. Then the second he puts that phone down, he’s stressed and pissy, attached to his desk’s chair.
He grabs onto my arm as the woman continues leading us. Brooks drags me along, like I don’t know how to use my own feet.
“Our head homicide detective will be with you two in a minute.” The investigator brings us into an office. “Thanks for coming in.”
It takes less than a minute for this moron to charge in. He has longer hair that almost reaches his shoulders. It flows like a damn waterfall. He’s beaming a dumb smirk, and he’s wearing a suit that looks more pricey than Brooks’.
“Gentlemen, I’m detective Lawrence. What can I do for you today?” He holds out his palm.
Brooks stands and shakes his hand. “Brooks. We spoke on the phone.”
All I do is look at his hand, so Lawrence draws it away and snaps his fingers. “Right, you got that house for my sister.” He tips his head. “Man, thank you. That dump she was living in central was awful for her health.”
“Oh, of course. I’m glad she’s doing better.”
How many houses is he selling? Why is it all a tactic to further stalk me? He doesn’t even sell houses anymore. He sends of an employee to do it for him, but not if he can spy on me. No. He markets and closes those houses himself. I always suspect I’m the crazy one, but my brother is a damn lunatic.
“You’re both here about the Mancini case, correct?”
Brooks snickers. “Yeah, we understand his family is rich and riding you in circles?”
Lawrence leans into his chair, slowly nodding and narrowing his eyes.
“We can help.”
***
Lawrence sits there in shock as the audio of The Cooker’s confession ends. His mouth was already on the floor when Brooks told him the whole story. Part of me is feeling smart for solving the case this fool couldn’t.
He whips his head in my direction. “Lake, can you show me where the body is?”
I puff air through my cheeks. “Maybe if I had some pictures in front of me, but if I can’t, I got a plan that’ll get us there, anyway.”
Lawrence clasps his hands together, rolling from side to side in his chair. “I’m listening.”
His little spin makes me wanna smack him more. The list of people I wish to hit keeps growing on the daily. I don’t think Lawrence knows that Serenity’s my wife, and that I’m well aware of his schemes to throw her under the bus.
“He’s already framing someone else for this shit.” I take a breath and clench my fist tighter over my thigh. “You can bring him in for questioning, and say I came in and told you where the body was. It’s over. He’ll crack and confess.”
Lawrence’s phone rings in the background for the millionth time in the fifteen minutes we’ve been here. He ignores it.
I continue talking, “hopefully that’ll get you the body. If it doesn’t, you still got the idiot that killed him.”
Brooks leans forward, piping up. “My brother will help you locate Mancini and testify on his family’s behalf if he won’t face any charges for not reporting this sooner.”
Lawrence and I both stare at Brooks.
“Yeah, that’s no problem,” he laughs. “We can take down a serious drug lord in our city and solve this case. Lake is the key. Anything that he’s done is not an issue.”
I clear my throat, moving his attention back to me. “Serenity is innocent. I want her name cleared as soon as possible.” The stinging in my eyes lets me know I’m failing at holding in my death glare. “I get the Mancini family hasn’t gotten off your back, but trying to frame an innocent woman?”
I shake my head. “It’s stressed her the hell out. Caused her a ton of financial problems.”
If Lawrence wasn’t planning to get the right guy in jail, I’d be battering him with his phone that keeps sounding. He has one chance to fix this. “If you want my help, I want her to get compensation and an apology.”
Brooks smiles next to me. A small, genuine smile.
“Just to keep herself out of jail and stop this from going public.” I tap the desk and lean in closer. “She had to hire Tommy Cooper as her lawyer for the last eight months.”
Lawrence tucks in his bottom lip, and his eyes dilate at the mention of Cooper’s name.
“She could’ve lost her job, and I’m sure you know Cooper’s prices. She’s barely been scraping by.”
It ticks me off. The stress is one thing, but for months, before she had me, she couldn’t eat or relax. She lost all of herself and nothing but a fading hope has kept her trucking. Lawrence is the reason Angel’s a shell of herself.
“She needs to be repaid in full. With more money for the impact this has had on her well-being.” I swallow down my anger and fall back into my chair. “Do that, and I’ll comply. Won’t have your ass sued, either.”
“He’s just like you said he was.” He points at me, looking at Brooks. “I like him.”
Brooks shrugs. “He’s alright sometimes.”
Yeah. Brooks and I better get lunch after this. It’s about time we absorb way too many calories and fist fight in a parking lot.
“Okay Lake, I’ll look into it in exchange for your cooperation.” Lawrence chuckles and smacks around on his laptop. “And so you don’t sue me.”
Then he gives me a look. “Last thing, can you pass a drug test?”
My lips curve. “Yes sir, I can.”