Dirty Work | Page 9

My gun was still
inside the Pinto.
I heard his footsteps move away. I could see his black leather coat as he
went in the gate, Javier for sure, headed for the stairs. I waited until he
was blocked by the corner of the apartment and then I crawled in the
wagon head first. I stuck the little Colt in the back of my pants and
jogged over to the other set of stairs, putting the jacket on as I ran.
By the time I got to the corner of the building, Lane had her door open.
I heard her say, "There you are."
"You look nervous." Javier's voice. "Something wrong?"
"What do you think, you fucking prick? I'm going to welcome you with
open arms?" I couldn't get used to the language she used. It just didn't
fit with the way she looked.
"It's like raining out here, okay? Are you going to let me in, or what?"
"Yeah, I'm going to let you in."

A second later I heard the the door close. The locks went again and
then there was a crash and a muffled shout and then silence.
*
I couldn't just stand there. Even if it was none of my business, even if I
was carrying a gun I had no permit for, even if somebody in that
apartment had trashed my truck and left me threatening notes.
I turned the corner and tried to see through the blinds. Nothing. I heard
voices but I couldn't tell male or female, let alone what they were
saying.
Christ Jesus. It's happening right now, and I can't let it go on.
I knocked on the door. It went so quiet in there I could hear the
raindrops ping on the railing behind me. I stepped back and kept my
hands away from my sides, away from the gun stuck down the back of
my pants. I don't know how long I waited but it felt like at least a
minute.
Something moved behind the peephole and the door opened on the
chain. It was Lane, fully dressed, not a mark on her. I suddenly realized
I was still wearing the bandanna and sunglasses. She laughed and it
sounded more nervous than anything. I wadded up the glasses and
bandanna in my left hand.
"Just go away," she said. "Don't pull any knight-in-shining-armor
numbers, don't give me any shit, just go away. Tell your lawyer friend
it's over. I'm dropping the charges. The law sucks, you can tell him that
too. Happy now? Go fuck yourself and stay away."
She started to close the door. I stuck my foot in, I don't know why. I
couldn't let it end that way.
"Look," I said, "I just want to say--"
"I don't want to hear it." She leaned on the door, and it hurt.

To hell with it. "Let me get my foot out and I'm gone," I said.
She eased off on the door and right then something crashed in the back
of the apartment and I heard Javier's voice, muffled, yelling.
"Oh shit," Lane said. She took a step back.
A woman's voice from off to the side said, "Bring him in."
All of a sudden Lane's apartment didn't seem like such a good idea. The
door slammed and I heard the chain come off and I turned around and
ran for the stairs. Something hit me in the back of the knees and I
skidded into the railing at the edge of the walkway. Then something
metal poked me in the ear and a woman's voice said, "Get up and go
inside."
My knees hurt where I'd slid. I got up real slow and the woman got
behind me where I still couldn't see her. I walked back to the apartment.
I was so scared that everything looked tilted and the light hurt my eyes.
Then I was inside and she pushed me and I went down on my knees
again, next to the far wall of the living room.
"Put your hands on your head," the woman said, "and turn around and
sit against the wall." I did what she said. There was the gun still stuck
down the back of my pants. All I wanted was out of there. If I could get
the gun out without getting shot in the process, maybe I could walk
away.
Lane was there, and two women I didn't know. The one with the gun
was close to six feet tall, heavy, with crewcut blonde hair. She wore
jeans and a plain white sweatshirt and a green flannel shirt over that.
The sleeves of the flannel shirt were rolled up to show the sweatshirt
underneath. The gun was some kind of little automatic and there was a
silencer screwed on