Racing the Light (Elvis Cole #19; Joe Pike #8)(82)

“Fucking meatball! I warned you!”

A high-speed rip of automatic-weapon fire lit up his window and thundered across the neighborhood. The meatball flinched. I worked my fingers under the meatball’s thumb and strained to pry his thumb off the pistol. I didn’t know whether Karsey was firing bullets or blanks or what kind of weapon he had, but the noise was horrendous. The gardener spun toward the sound and fired three fast shots—bapbapbap. I heard the bullets hit Karsey’s bungalow as Joe Pike shot the gardener.

Karsey cut loose again, a long chattering light show behind his curtain. I prayed I wouldn’t get hit.

The meatball kneed me four fast times and tried to roll away, but I wrapped him up with my legs and held on tight. His thumb began to give. Golden lights swirled and gathered overhead, but I only caught glimpses.

Then Joe Pike blocked the lights. He clubbed the meatball twice with his pistol, cocked his Python, and pressed the muzzle hard into the meatball’s ear.

The meatball stopped fighting. His eyes rolled as he looked up to see Pike.

Pike said, “Release your weapon.”

The meatball’s hand relaxed. I twisted away his pistol and scrambled to my feet. Sirens were coming.

A woman’s voice echoed down from above.

“Don’t move, Josh. Don’t try to get up. We’re coming. We’re almost there.”

Wendy Vann.

I looked up, but saw only lights. I stood and made my way into Josh’s bungalow and found Ryan Seborg in their studio. He looked small and pale and younger than he was. He looked like a twelve-year-old.

I said, “Oh, Ryan.”

I checked for a pulse. His shirt was a red mop and I knew he was dead, but I checked. I checked twice. I felt his neck and his wrist.

“Aw damn.”

I went out to check Josh. Pike was kneeling beside him. His eyes opened and closed, but he seemed hazy. His temple was bleeding badly. I pulled off my shirt, wadded it, and pressed it over the wound. I was scared to press too hard. His skull might be cracked.

Leon Karsey shouted.

“Is that Porky? Porky, you all right?”

Josh’s eyes fluttered. They rolled from side to side, but then they focused.

He said, “Ryan.”

“I know.”

“Ryan’s shot.”

“I know.”

I didn’t know what else to say.

“We gotta drop the show. We finished.”

We.

“It’ll drop. You and Ryan did a fine job.”

I patted his shoulder.

He said, “Tonight.”

I patted his shoulder again.

“You and Ryan finished.”

“Rachel.”

“Rachel.”

Cars braked hard below. Voices and more cars rolled in. I thought the police had arrived, but Wendy and Kurt double-timed up the steps with the red-haired guy and Wendy 2.0. Kurt had an M-4 rifle slung from his shoulder. He ran to the meatball and Pike stepped away. The bald guy with the earbud ran past Wendy to join Kurt. The bald guy and Wendy 2.0 both carried MP5 submachine guns. Maybe they expected a war. Kurt quick-tied the meatball’s hands behind his back, pulled him to his feet, and led him away. I didn’t know if the police were down below or even coming. I didn’t know where Kurt took him. I never saw the meatball, the gardener, or the welterweight again. I was never asked to testify at their trials.

Leon Karsey shouted.

“Fuck is going on out there?”

Wendy came over and knelt beside Josh. She smiled at him and rested her hand on his chest.

“Hey, Josh. Everything’s fine. You’re fine.”

Josh said, “Ryan.”

Wendy glanced up.

I shook my head.

“Inside.”

She said, “Holy hell.”

Wendy called to the red-haired guy and hurried into Josh’s bungalow.

I patted Josh’s shoulder.

“Hang in there, bud.”

“Ryan.”

“You hang in.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.

Josh’s eyes suddenly cleared and he gripped my arm.

“The trunk. Ryan’s car. You take it. You. Not the cops. You.”

“What’s in Ryan’s trunk?”

“Proof.”

His eyes turned foggy and he moaned.

Karsey came out with a plastic bag filled with ice.

“For his head.”

I patted Josh’s shoulder again.

Wendy came back and touched me aside.

“You can go. We’ll handle everything.”

“The police will want a statement.”

“We’ll take care of it. Thank you. Thank you for this.”

Josh said, “Ryan’s hurt. Where’s Ryan?”

Wendy touched my arm.

“Thank you.”

I went back inside to Ryan, found his keys, and walked down the concrete steps past Josh and the others to the street. The steps seemed longer and the street seemed farther away. I transferred the large green duffel to my car and left Ryan’s keys on his driver’s-side floorboard.

An ambulance arrived a few minutes later. I watched them load Josh into the vehicle. Part of me wanted to follow them to the hospital to make sure he was all right, but I didn’t. I drove home to Lucy and Ben. I wanted to be held. Lucy held me. She slept with me in the loft for the first time in years, but it wasn’t what you’d think and it wasn’t the way we had wanted. I told her about Josh and Ryan and what happened and I cried. Lucy listened and held me as I wept. She pulled me close and held my head to her breasts. I needed to be held. She held me. We held each other.