Blind to Sin Page 14

  Her voice caught in her throat. Donne had an idea where this was going, but he didn’t interrupt. Still trying to figure out a way to get out of this cabin alive.

  “The whole reason for this heist—for breaking you out of jail and for breaking Kenneth out—was to get to Cuba. For some experimental treatment. Elliot promised me I would get healthy. But it’s not true. That’s not why. I just found out. I don’t have cancer. After my last round of chemo, I was cleared. But I’ve been hooked up to that contraption. He’s been sedating me with radiation.”

  Donne looked at Tammy. Her face was wrinkled like leather. Her eyes were sunken and she was as thin as an antenna. Not the adventuring, swashbuckling, grinning Bonnie Parker Kenneth had talked about both in prison and since he’d gotten out.

  “In fact, I had a treatment this morning,” she said. “Elliot’s been lying to me.”

  Donne scratched his chin. She was on chemo as early as this morning? Jesus.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Hell if I know. But I want to find out. You have to help me. This isn’t some charity heist.”

  “It never was,” Donne said. “You don’t rob from where we are targeting and call it charity. But I don’t understand the motivation, then. I don’t at all.”

  “You need to get out of here and go talk to Kenneth. No—talk to Matt. Don’t trust Kenneth.”

  “He went to jail to save you,” Donne said. “He saved my life time and time again. We can trust him.”

  “No one dives into a job like this so easily.”

  Donne looked at the true crime book on the nightstand. He played everything over in his head.

  It felt wrong. Very wrong.

  “Tell Matt that I’m not sick. But tell him I need help.”

  “How can I get out of here?”

  Tammy shrugged. “Out the damn window. I think it is about a thirty-foot drop into the forest. Probably where Elliot was going to shoot you.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “It’s not even ten p.m. yet. I’d be asleep if it was.”

  Donne took a breath. “Okay.”

  Tammy tilted her chin toward the door. “That bastard lied to me. I want to know why.”

  “Can you handle more treatments?”

  She looked at the ground. “It gets harder every day. I already called Elliot on his bullshit. He won’t question it anymore.”

  “We’ll come back for you.”

  “No. Tell me where Matt lives. I’ll get there on my own.”

  Donne paused for a minute, thinking it over. He gave her the address.

  Tammy patted Donne’s shoulder. “Okay, tough guy. Go out the window. I can kill five minutes and give you a head start.”

  “Come with me.”

  “I’ll be fine. I need to stay here. For now.”

  Donne stood up and walked over to the window.

  “You should have killed Manuel,” Tammy said.

  Donne nodded.

  “He was a nice man. To me. He was gentle.” Tammy tapped her fingers on her leg. “But you don’t leave a man like that alive.”

  “I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Donne opened the window. A warm breeze kissed his cheek.

  Tammy nodded. “You live, you learn. Right?”

  Donne climbed out the window. A second later, Tammy screamed. He heard the door burst open. As he scrambled down the hill, he heard Tammy saying Donne pushed her to the ground.

  “That bastard!” Cole shouted. “Did he hurt you?”

  Donne moved into the darkness, shuffling as fast as he could without tripping over the bramble.

  HERRICK WENT back inside. His Uncle Adrik sat on the couch with an ice pack pressed against his nose. Herrick leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed.

  “You put your hand on me,” Adrik said.

  Herrick said, “Yup.”

  “Men have died for less.”

  “You going to kill me, Uncle?”

  Adrik shifted on the couch and put the pack of ice down on the table. His nose was turning a fine shade of purple, and it was swollen like a clown’s.

  Herrick walked over and sat next to him on the couch.

  “Call Elliot Cole and tell him not to kill Donne.”

  “No.”

  “Uncle, you know my dad needs him. This would make the job that much harder.

  Adrik put a hand on Herrick’s shoulder. “Why do you think you’re still alive? Two are better than one when it comes to bank heists.”

  “You know this is more than a bank heist.”

  Adrik stood up from the couch and picked up the ice pack. He walked across the room to the bookcase and stared at the bindings.

  “Essentially, that’s what it is. Just a lot more money involved.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this when I first came to see you?”

  Adrik took a book off the shelf and looked at the back cover. Herrick couldn’t tell what it was. Adrik re-shelved it.

  “Why should I? What advantage does that give me?”

  Before Herrick could answer, a telephone rang. Adrik smiled. “Here’s the good news.”

  He walked over to a landline on a table and pressed a button. The speakerphone.

  “Tell us, Elliot.”

  There was a static-y breath and then, “He got away.”

  Herrick’s chest tightened. Adrik’s eyes widened.

  “The asshole got away. My wife wanted to talk to him. Tammy wanted to—she’s not right. It’s the chemo.”

  “Your age is turning you into a fool.” Adrik exhaled. “Tell me what happened.”

  Cole told them through short, raspy breaths. “He jumped out the window. Haskins and Manuel are out looking for him, but they won’t find him. Not tonight anyway.”

  Adrik glanced at Herrick, who stood up and brushed off his pants. Adrik picked up the phone and started talking. Herrick texted his father that Donne was probably on his way and then left the room.

  He wanted to talk to Sarah. He missed her.

  And he wanted to know what she told Donne.

  HERRICK WALKED into his apartment forty minutes later and wanted a tumbler of bourbon. But there wasn’t time for that. As far as he was concerned, he was on the clock twenty-four seven now. He called out Sarah’s name, and she returned with a hey babe.

  He settled down on the couch and checked his phone. His dad wrote back a quick okay from the burner phone he was using. Herrick put the phone down on the table and sat back, waiting for Sarah. His stomach churned both with hunger and nerves.

  Sarah came out of the bedroom in her pajamas, drying her hair with a towel. She sat next to him and put her free hand on his elbow. Herrick left it there. Her fingers were warm against his skin as she traced circles on it.

  “You talked to Donne today.”

  Sarah’s hand didn’t pull away, but she stopped tracing.

  “I did,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to ruin your life.”

  Herrick shifted in his seat, careful to keep Sarah’s fingers on his arm.

  “I got this,” he said.

  “Don’t get tough with me.”

  Herrick closed his eyes and forced his body to unwind. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with Sarah next to him. The world could fade away around them like some teenage love song. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  “It’s not toughness. It’s my job.”

  Sarah sat up, and suddenly the skin to skin was gone. “It’s not a job. You’re not getting paid. You’re working with your dad.”

  Herrick opened and closed his hands and felt the blood run through them.

  “It’s about my mom,” he said.

  “A mom who abandoned you.”

  “And she’s sick now.” Herrick wiped his face. He couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands, but they wanted to move. “So none of that other stuff matters.”

  “Remember last year? When a monster blew up my apartme
nt building?”

  Herrick turned and looked at her. “Of course.”

  “Didn’t it seem odd to you that I didn’t freak out? That I just moved in?”

  Herrick exhaled. “Do we really have time for this right now?”

  “You wanted to talk. You started this.”

  Sarah turned away from him, and her wet hair snapped at the motion. A droplet of water caught Herrick’s nose.

  “So, tell me. Yes, it was weird. But you were—I wanted you here, so I didn’t ask.”

  “You never asked. You just went with it.”

  Herrick took a beat and stood up from the couch. “Do you—did you want to be here?”

  “Yes. Then and now. I love you.”

  “I love you too. Except you were going to add a but—”

  “There’s a reason that explosion didn’t faze me. I’ve seen some shit.”

  Herrick waited.

  “I’ve been to prison. Like Donne. Before I got my job, before I got my life turned around. I’ve seen a girl kill another girl for stealing her corn muffin at breakfast. Jammed a shard of plastic in her eye. I don’t shake easily.”

  “Is this one of your ‘when I was a kid’ lies you tell the students?”

  “No. My friend got me to help her steal a car. We got caught.”

  The words tore through Herrick’s body like a shockwave. “But you’re normal now.”

  “Normal is a terrible word, Matt. You know that. It took a long time getting here. And I’m sitting here watching you have panic attacks about your dad and your mom. You aren’t in any shape to make good decisions.”

  “If I can help him, Maybe—”

  Sarah turned back to him. “Maybe what?”

  “Maybe I can stop him. Maybe I can get him to turn his life around.”

  Sarah shook her head. “Let him work with Donne. Stay out of it.”

  “You know I’m in too deep now.”

  “This is the same mistake my students make. Your players, Matt. They come to me with this stuff. Not you. Remember kicking Andrew Harmon off the team?”

  “It’s not the same.”

  Sarah opened her mouth, but before she could speak there was a knock at the door. More like a pounding. They both turned to it. Herrick ran over to the door and opened.

  Jackson Donne stood there, face scratched and completely out of breath.

  “We have to talk,” Donne said.

  “Seems to be the theme of the night,” Herrick said.

  Donne stepped into the room and gave Sarah a half wave.

  “It’s about your mom,” he said. “She’s not sick.”

  HERRICK BLINKED. And then he stepped back. And then he was on the couch. Sarah had her arm around him. The edges of his vision were blurring as Donne was talking.

  Not again, he told himself. Enough of this bullshit.

  “Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen.”

  “What are you doing?” Herrick thought it was Donne asking.

  “Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight.”

  “You’re okay, Matt.” Definitely Sarah this time.

  He finished counting down. By the time he had, the world had re-focused and he was in his apartment again. Not some twisty, whirly version of that room. He gritted his teeth and counted back up to sixteen, this time in his head.

  When he was finished, he said, “What do you mean she’s not sick? I saw her.”

  “Cole is fucking with her. She’s been doing chemo, she had a segmentectomy…but according to the paperwork she saw, the cancer was clear after the surgery and one quick round of chemo.”

  Herrick put his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ.”

  Donne paced the room. Herrick wondered what he was thinking.

  “We have to get her out of there,” Herrick said.

  Donne shook his head. “I think she can take care of herself.”

  “You’ve met her twice.”

  “I can read people pretty well. Like your girlfriend here. She can—”

  “Shut up,” Sarah said. “Do you know how messed up that is? Matt, your mom’s life is a lie and she’s just finding out now. She needs to talk to someone. You’re right. Get her out of there.”

  Donne said, “She told me not to worry about her. That she’d be fine for now.”

  The silence in the room hung there for a moment. Sarah’s body language sagged into the couch. Herrick counted his heartbeats, and felt it slowing down. There was work to be done, and that always distracted him from the panic.

  “The big question—do we tell my dad?” he asked.

  “No. Let him play it out straight. If he knows, it would complicate things even more.”

  “They want you dead.”

  Donne walked over to the window and looked out. There was the usual rumble of partygoers on the street. The squealing of bus brakes.

  “Been there,” Donne said. “I’m going to have to stick in the background. I’ll still help.”

  Sarah said, “That means Matt has to do more.”

  “Yeah,” Donne said.

  Herrick looked at her, but couldn’t read her expression.

  “I have no choice,” he said.

  “Yes, you do. Now that you know your mom is okay? Why do you have to do this? Your job with the kids, it’ll be gone.”

  Herrick turned toward her and pulled her in tight. He didn’t say a word. Sarah pulled away.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Herrick finally said, “I have to fix this.”

  “Fix what?” Donne asked. “We’re going to rob a—”

  “No, we aren’t. We’re just going to act like we are.”

  Herrick felt a wave ride through his gut. He thought of Haskins, and his connection to the National Guard. So much money went through the Federal Reserve. They lost billions that should have gone to Iraq in the early part of the century. He needed to know more about Cole. Not just the stories his mom and dad told when they were younger.

  “No. There’s more to it than that.”

  “You’d better be right,” Donne said.

  “I am.”

  Donne moved toward the door. “Then get some sleep. The next few days are going to be busy.”

  He left, the door clicking shut behind him. Sarah went over and locked it.

  “I’m not going to be a criminal,” Herrick said.

  “Then what are you doing?”

  Herrick took a deep breath.

  “Trying to be a hero.”

  NORMALLY, DONNE would stop for a beer. There were plenty of Hoboken bars to stop at, and he still had a credit card that worked. But he hadn’t had a beer since Manuel tried to kill him. For some reason, the alcohol wasn’t calling to him.

  And he didn’t mind.

  Instead, he hopped on a train to New Brunswick, his old stomping grounds. He considered looking up Artie again, but after last year it wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t in the mood for an argument or an icy glare. So he used the burner phone he bought with the computer and left a message on a familiar number. He was happy to hear it was still in service.

  If there was a man who had information on local thieves, drug dealers or hitmen, it was Jesus Sanchez. The former cowardly corner dealer grown into big time New Jersey crime lord had connections Donne had since lost during his time hiding in Vermont and stewing in prison.

  Forty-five minutes later, Donne got off the train and walked through New Brunswick. It was still early for a college town, just cresting ten p.m. The streets were buzzing with college kids gossiping, stumbling or walking with a purpose. It was a warm spring evening so the bars were jumping even for a Monday night. Donne strode past them and walked into Papa Grande, a BYOB place that served exactly the kind of food college kids wanted. Burgers, burritos, tacos, fries.

  Donne was seated by the hostess who put a menu down in front of him. He took the seat facing the door and didn’t look at the menu. When the waitress came over, he ordered an iced tea. He kept his eye on the door.

  Ten minutes
later, and halfway through the iced tea, three men came in and cased the room. Donne shifted in his seat, sliding the butter knife off the table. He held it at his side. The three men took a look around, and then stared long and hard at Donne. Donne nodded at them. They nodded back. One left the restaurant.

  When he came back in, he brought Jesus Sanchez with him. Sanchez saw Donne and lit up in a grin. The new—at least new to Donne—scar on his chin burned red, but the rest of him looked exactly like Donne remembered.

  “Yoooooooo!” he said, holding the word out as he skipped through the restaurant. Donne stood up and put the knife back on the table. He let Sanchez wrap him up in a huge bear hug, even though Donne had six inches on him.

  “I heard you was in prison,” Sanchez said. “What happened?”

  Donne shrugged. “I got out.”

  “This is great news. Great news! My man survived.” Jesus punched Donne in the arm lightly.

  Donne grinned and sat down. Same old Jesus.

  “I need help,” Donne said.

  Jesus nodded. “It’s rough when you first get out. You need a little taste to get you back on your feet? I got money, and I won’t even charge you interest. Pay me back whenever.”

  Donne shook his head. “That’s not what I need help with.”

  “My man, already back on his feet. I like it.”

  He should have taken the money.

  “You know Elliot Cole?”

  Jesus tilted his head and knit his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Heard of him. Been a while though. Thought he was out of the game.”

  “He had a guy. Big, tough, burly dude named Manuel. Kind of the muscle for the operation.”

  Jesus nodded. “Manuel Parada was in a Passaic gang for a while. Tried to encroach on me down here. Good guy, could bust some heads. Wasn’t made out for drug dealing though. So he joined the National Guard. I have some friends there, they talked about him. Smart to move to muscle with Cole. Why?”

  “He tried to kill me,” Donne said. His voice didn’t waver.

  “That’s nuts.”

  “I should have killed him.” Donne whispered it, but Jesus sat back anyway.