Blind to Sin Page 13

  “Between your dad and Cole, there’s a lot of military people being recruited for this job.”

  “And it doesn’t seem like the Cole side wants you involved.”

  Donne slumped against the wall. He slipped up, not eliminating Manuel. Knocking him out was a half-measure.

  Herrick talked about visiting the National Guard base that afternoon. And then he talked about nearly getting arrested after trying to catch Haskins. None of this made much sense to Donne, but he didn’t interject. Silence was always better when people were ranting.

  He said, “Bruce Haskins was a psychopath. My uncle used to use him to do some dirty work when Elliot and I needed information. I don’t think my dad was comfortable with the trail of blood that led to his front door. The cops would catch up with them eventually.”

  Donne’s neck muscles tightened. Was that how Kenneth ended up in prison?

  “So, Haskins threatened me the other day. Told me I should be working with you guys.”

  Herrick shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “We should follow up on the military stuff.”

  Donne turned his back and ran his hands through his hair. “We can’t worry about ancillary stuff.”

  “Being threatened isn’t ancillary. Jesus.”

  Donne laughed this time. “Your dad got me out of prison. I owe him.”

  “You’re being stupid. You’re a detective, or used to be. Come with me. Let’s talk to my uncle and find out more.”

  In another hotel room, a glass crashed to the ground. Both Donne and Herrick stopped to listen to the resident cursing about it.

  Herrick said, “There’s something more going on here. I can’t tell if my dad and Elliot are on opposite sides or working together. Elliot bought you two out, but then Manuel tried to kill you..”

  Donne nodded. “Lots of complications.”

  “As always.”

  “Let’s go,” Donne said.

  HERRICK’S CAR idled outside Adrik Vavilov’s house. Donne fidgeted in the seat next to him, staring at the front door. Herrick wanted to tell him to cool it, but didn’t. There was something different about Donne—Herrick noticed it on the ride up here.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  Donne shook his head. “You are.”

  “The guy up there could crush us both with the force of his money.” Herrick gripped the steering wheel. Then reached down and turned the key off. “But he’s also my uncle.”

  “Blood?”

  “No. One of those friend type deals. Kind of like a Godfather.”

  “Damn.” Donne rubbed his thighs. “They don’t usually kill blood relatives. But Godsons?”

  Donne grinned, and Herrick forced a laugh.

  Then Donne opened the passenger side door, got out and slammed the door shut. Herrick counted to four while watching him make his way up the front lawn. Herrick turned the engine off and followed Donne’s lead. By the time he reached the front door, Donne was already leaning on the doorbell.

  Bastard was going to get them both killed.

  They sat in the giant living room, and this time Herrick couldn’t smell any food cooking. Vavilov stood over them, arms crossed and nostrils flared. He stared directly at Herrick.

  “You bring him here?” Vavilov uncrossed his arms for a moment only to point at Donne.

  Herrick shrugged. “You know he’s involved.”

  Vavilov’s eyes widened. “But I’m not.”

  “You sure?” Donne asked. His voice was tight like a laundry-shrunken sweater.

  Vavilov sniffled. “Your kind, you act like the good guy, but you’re not. You’re a killer. The news says so. You assassinated a politician, didn’t you? You’re a prisoner out on a whim. You are a dangerous man, Jackson Donne.”

  Donne shifted in his seat. Spread his hands. Smiled.

  “And here I am, in your house.”

  “Enough,” Herrick said. He got up from his chair and stepped in between Vavilov and Donne. “You and I have to talk, Uncle.”

  After shaking his head, Vavilov said, “There is nothing to talk about.”

  “Then why did you let us in?”

  No reply.

  Someone else in the house whistled. It wasn’t a song Herrick recognized. He waited a few bars before speaking again.

  “Why do Elliot and my dad need so many military guys?”

  No reply again.

  Herrick watched Vavilov’s body language. Always a good poker player, there wasn’t a tell this time either.

  “Bruce Haskins’ son. Neil. And he threatened me into working with my dad. You always kept his dad employed. The connections are easy to spot.”

  Vavilov exhaled. “You know nothing about me. As for Neil? He is a bit rash, but sometimes he can be useful.”

  “What was his use this time?”

  Vavilov shook his head. “This time it wasn’t me.”

  “Then who? Uncle Elliot?”

  Donne pushed himself out of the chair. “Stop talking in circles.”

  Herrick’s muscles tightened, and he turned to Donne—half expecting him to be charging at Vavilov. Herrick tried to shoot him a “calm down” look.

  “Matthew,” Vavilov said. “Shouldn’t you be worried about your mother? She’s sick, and your dad can help save her.”

  “He’s working on that.”

  Vavilov held up a hand. Listen. “I understand this is a huge risk for you.”

  “You told me you weren’t involved.”

  Vavilov shook the hand he held up. Listen! “If there ever was a time to take a risk, it’s for family. That’s what you should focus on now. Help your father. Help your mother. And get Jackson Donne out of my house.”

  Herrick worked his jaw and tried to think of the right thing to say. Nothing would come.

  “He’s in,” Donne said. “You don’t have to worry about that now. He’s going to lose everything to save his mother. Like me. I’ve lost everything. He’s going to find out what that’s like. They couldn’t leave him out of this, could they?”

  “Damn it, Jackson.”

  Donne moved behind Herrick, but Herrick didn’t turn toward him. Didn’t want to see his face. He focused on the bookcase over Vavilov’s shoulder. Tried to read the titles on the spines. But he couldn’t. Too far away.

  Somewhere a door opened and closed.

  “It’s true, Matt. Sorry, but it is. You and Sarah could have had something, but if you keep going down this path…you might already be too far.”

  Herrick spun around. “Don’t you mention her.”

  Vavilov laughed. “Like I don’t already know.”

  “She came to talk to me today, Matt. She’s worried about you. You haven’t seen your mother in how long? Your dad? Think about your priorities. I can handle what your dad needs help with. We can do it. Not you.”

  Herrick ran a hand through his hair. Words were not coming to him. The sun blinked through the window, the last rays of light before nightfall.

  “Sarah went to see you?” The words did not leave his mouth easily.

  Donne nodded.

  Then his eyes went wide.

  Herrick whirled around. Elliot Cole stood in front of him, gun in hand.

  “I heard some of that. Real interesting talk, Mr. Donne.”

  Vavilov spoke through gritted teeth. “Not here.”

  “Shut up.” He turned the gun toward Herrick. “Matt, you’re going to have to work with your dad. I’m sorry about that. Jackson talks a big game, but he’s coming with me. He and I have some business to settle.”

  “Because your big man couldn’t do it on his own,” Donne said.

  A shadow crossed Cole’s face.

  “Not here,” Vavilov said again.

  “Donne, come with me.” Cole waved the gun in the direction of the kitchen. Herrick reached for his ASP.

  Donne held up a hand.

  “I got this,” he said. “Get back to work. I’ll see you soon.”

  He started to walk toward the k
itchen. Cole kept the gun on him the whole time.

  “You’re an asshole,” he said. Donne shrugged.

  When they were gone, Vavilov sighed. “I had to drag this out until Elliot got here. I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

  Herrick said, “Me too.”

  And punched his Uncle Adrik square in the mouth.

  DONNE LOOKED into the side mirror of the car he was in. They pulled down the street, using every last bit of horsepower the Altima had in it. He watched Herrick give chase on foot for maybe fifty yards before slowing into a trot. Donne shook his head. Herrick should have gone for his own car.

  Cole sat in the backseat, gun still pointed in Donne’s direction. He didn’t recognize the driver, but the military haircut and rest of him matched the description of this Haskins character Herrick had been talking about. Donne wished he’d used his credit card to buy himself a gun when he got out of prison.

  Like it was that easy in this part of the country.

  He stayed silent. No use in talking. Might as well let them drive him around before they killed him. Or explained their cunning plan to him.

  Whatever.

  Cole and Haskins didn’t speak. The car rumbled into to the night.

  Long Valley, New Jersey was an area of the state Donne knew nearly nothing about. It was secluded off Route 78, well before the Pennsylvania Border, but miles away from the congestion of the Turnpike and Parkway. It seemed to be a bunch of small towns tucked into a gigantic forest.

  They exited Route 78 and wound through roads without streetlights until they found a small cabin at the end of a cul-de-sac. Haskins parked and got out of the car. He walked to the front door. Never made eye contact with either of the them.

  Donne waited for instructions.

  Behind him, the door opened and shut, and Cole came around to the passenger door and opened it.

  “Get out,” he said. The gun barrel was close to Donne’s cheek.

  After undoing his seatbelt, Donne did as he was told. The driveway they were parked on was paved with asphalt so brand new, he expected his feet to stick.

  “I should probably just kill you,” Cole said.

  Donne shook his head. “Everyone says that. They never do it. Even Manuel.”

  “Maybe I have a good reason.” Cole pointed to the front door. “March. There’s someone I want you to meet before you die.”

  “Seems like a wise plan.” Donne started to walk. “I mean, you’re a cunning thief judging by what I hear. So dragging me into a house with a gun to my face can’t possibly go wrong, can it? Never mind that I’ve killed a small army during my life. But okay.”

  “A small army. But not Manuel. You pulled your punches that time?”

  Donne didn’t respond.

  The house was less bare boned than the Paterson place. It was decorated with pictures of beaches, new furniture and fuzzy carpet. It smelled like Thanksgiving. Manuel sat on one of the couches, and noticeably tightened his posture when Donne walked in. Haskins stood off to the corner with a glass of water. Donne felt the gun barrel jammed into his back.

  “I want you to give Manuel another shot,” Cole said. “That is Neil, Manuel’s boyfriend. His lover. They are going to get married in a month. So, maybe this is my wedding gift to them.”

  Manuel’s voice was strong. “Step into the light.”

  Donne stepped forward and felt the light from the lamp on his face. The gun barrel moved with him. His back would certainly be bruised tomorrow.

  Air caught in his throat.

  If he even saw tomorrow.

  Arrogance was no guarantee Cole would screw up. But it usually led to Donne having some form of advantage. No one expected aggression against a gun.

  “You should have killed me,” Manuel said, his face twisting as he fought his rage down.

  “You’re right,” Donne said.

  The sentence made Manuel flinch.

  “I should have broken your neck with my bare hands and dumped you in the Hudson River.” Donne kept his words even. “We were behind the Jacob Javitz Center, overlooking the water. No one would have found your body. Not for days.”

  Donne gave Manuel credit. He didn’t leap out of the chair. He played with the ring on his left hand and his mouth twitched. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Neil’s tremors.

  “You son of a bitch,” Manuel said. His voice wasn’t as strong now.

  “Before you call me that again, let me ask you a question.” Donne rolled his shoulders and dislodged the gun barrel from his skin. “Do you know why I didn’t?”

  “Careful,” Cole hissed.

  “Do you?” Donne repeated.

  Manuel licked his lips. “Tell me.”

  “Because I’m stupid. In jail, with Kenneth, I was soft. Sat around and waited for people to come and get me. I have a lot of enemies. But Kenneth saved me. And you know how? He killed a man. Broke his neck. And I sat there and let him. I felt guilty about it. But next time I see you? I’m not going to screw up. I’m done feeling guilty.”

  Manuel grinned. “Bring it.”

  “You know I will. And when I do, how will Neil feel? He’ll be alone without you. Walk away, you two. Go live your life.”

  “Don’t speak for me,” Neil said. “I’m enjoying this.”

  “That’s a mistake. But it doesn’t make Manuel a better killer, does it?” Donne expected a tremor to go through his body as he spoke. It didn’t.

  Donne stood there. Waited for Manuel to make the next move.

  “You’re going to burn,” Manuel said. “I hope you enjoy the last few minutes of your life.”

  Donne smiled. “I promise you this: I have some time left. To make up for a mistake.”

  Manuel leaped out of the seat toward Donne. Donne held his ground, and Neil caught Manuel before he could get any further.

  “Not here,” Neil hissed. “We’ll take him somewhere else.”

  “You’re going to die. You will.” Manuel’s words came in fits and gasps.

  Donne walked over to him and leaned in close to his ear. Both Manuel and Neil could hear him. But he didn’t think Cole could.

  “Let me tell you something.” He said each word slowly. Donne’s vision clouded at the corner of his eyes. “You missed me the first time. You fucked up. And I fucked up by not finishing the job. But I am in your life now and this is what happens. I am a tornado. A hurricane. I swoop in and mess everything up. I’ll leave one of you to pick up the pieces. Ask my sister. Ask Jeanne Baker or Artie or Jesus Sanchez. Ask anyone I’ve come close to. But threaten me? You know how many times I’ve been threatened? I always win. I’m finally learning.”

  “I know you. The people you’ve killed: self-defense.”

  “I think I’m over waiting for that point.”

  Manuel’s body shook like an earthquake victim.

  Donne felt the gun against his head, behind his ear.

  “Let’s go,” Cole said. “Outside.”

  “Let me,” Manuel said. Haskins nodded. “You promised.”

  “And let you screw up again? You’re like a dead leaf right now. Work the plan,” Cole said.

  Donne turned slowly. Not many options now. He walked toward the back of the room, and then into the hallway. A back door waited at the end of it. Donne looked for something to use as a weapon, but the hallway wasn’t decorated like the living room was. He walked forward. To the right was another door. It was closed.

  And then it was open.

  A woman stood there—Kenneth’s ex-wife? Donne thought it was her.

  “Back inside, Tammy,” Cole said.

  She shook her head. “No. I have to talk to him.”

  Pointing at Donne, she said, “Alone.”

  “YOU’RE OUT of your mind, Tammy,” Cole said. “I’m not letting him out of my sight.”

  Tammy grabbed Donne’s wrist. Her grip was tighter than he expected. “Give me a break, Elliot. This man knows my son and my ex-husband. I want to talk to him before you kill him. I
need to know more about Matt and Kenneth. For my sanity. They’re my family.”

  Cole said, “I’m coming in there too.”

  “Oh please. You can stay right outside the door. You have a gun. Where is he going to go? Out my window? You know what’s out there. Nothing. He’s not going anywhere. Stand here, and when I’m finished with him, you can have your way.”

  Cole shifted his feet. The gun lowered an inch. Donne kept his eyes trained on Cole’s, looking for him to blink.

  Tammy gave Donne’s wrist a tug. With her free hand she touched her chest. “Please. You owe me.”

  Cole blinked. “You seem better today. Are you feeling better?”

  Tammy’s grip on Donne’s wrist got even tighter. “Better than I have in a long time. No thanks to you.”

  “Ten minutes.” Cole took out his phone, opened an app. He set a timer.

  “Thank you, Elliot. We won’t even need that much.”

  She pulled Donne into her room, and closed the door. She didn’t lock it. Donne waited for his eyes to adjust against the darkness. A desk lamp in the corner near her bed was the only illumination.

  Most people, Donne assumed, would allow this delay in death to cause more anxiety. Donne, however, felt the air come back into his lungs and his muscles relax. The longer he was alive, the longer he had to figure a way out of this mess.

  Tammy was a blessing. One worth ten minutes. He started running over different survival scenarios in his head. Each of the first two ended with him getting shot.

  “Sit down.”

  Donne acquiesced and went over to the bed. It was a bit lumpy.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Tammy shook her head. “Don’t have time for that. We have to find a way to get you out of here.”

  Not exactly what Donne expected her to say. “Why are you helping me? He’s your husband.”

  “And he’s a psychopath.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you there.”

  Clearly the show Tammy put on in the hallway had taken a toll on her. She walked over to the bed and sat next to Donne. She seemed to deflate into her seat. It was like some of her soul had left her body.

  “For a long time,” she said, “I’ve been sick. Aches in my chest. Doctor appointments. Chemo. They told me I had lung cancer. We went to a doctor, the best Cole could find. They showed me X-rays. They put me on treatment.”