Blacktop Wasteland(40)

But they had gotten away. He still had it. Whatever “it” was.

“We are who we were meant to be,” he said.

His words echoed through the garage.





FOURTEEN



“Ms. Lovell, we just want you to know we are sorry about what you have been through,” the first cop, whose name was LaPlata, said. He was tall and thin but had big veiny hands that looked strong enough to crack a coconut.

“Just so you know, the Commonwealth Attorney is not inclined to press charges against you for discharging your weapon,” the other cop, Billups, said. “Mrs. Turner is going to be fine and she doesn’t want to pursue any criminal action. Since the gun was registered, you’re in the clear as far as that is concerned.” He was built like a fire hydrant and had a hairline that was retreating like Lee at Gettysburg. They sat across from her on a narrow love seat covered in a fading floral pattern. Lou Ellen sat in her recliner with her legs elevated on the foot rest. Her crutches lay on the floor next to the chair.

“Well, that’s good to know. I mean since I was trying to save her life,” Lou Ellen said. She shifted in the recliner and felt a bolt of pain shoot through her entire left side. She grimaced and let out a long guttural moan.

“Can we get you something?” Billups asked.

Lou Ellen shook her head. “Docs already got me on the highest legal dosage of Oxy. They say the bullet bounced around in my thigh, bounced off my femur, and came out near my ass. It’s been two weeks and it still feels fresh. I think I’m going to be in pain for a long time. Might as well get used to it,” Lou Ellen said.

“Ms. Lovell, can you tell us anything about the people who robbed the store?” Billups asked.

Lou Ellen shook her head again. “They were both men, I think. They both wore masks. And gloves. They had gloves on.”

“You’re positive they didn’t get away with anything? The safe was wide open when the deputies got there,” LaPlata asked.

“Just a few hundred dollars in petty cash,” Lou Ellen lied.

LaPlata stared at her. His almond-shaped eyes seemed to be studying her like a child studies an ant right before he holds a magnifying glass over it.

“It’s just strange. There were pieces in the display cabinets worth a few thousand dollars. But they didn’t go for them. This wasn’t a smash-and-grab. They specifically went for the safe and safe alone,” LaPlata said. His eyes never left Lou Ellen.

“I guess they thought we had the good stuff in the back, I don’t know. Look, I don’t mean to be rude but I’m really not feeling too great. Can we finish this later?” she asked.

LaPlata turned his gaze toward Billups. After a few seconds, the big man nodded. Both detectives stood.

“Well, Ms. Lovell, if you think of anything, please give us a call. We will get to the bottom of this, I promise you that,” LaPlata said. He handed her a business card with his name printed on it in small neat letters. She took the card but didn’t meet his questioning eyes. She could feel them boring into her skull.

“Get some rest, Ms. Lovell. We will be in touch,” Billups said. The detectives stalked out of her apartment.

When she heard the door shut behind them, she closed her eyes and sighed. She dug in the pocket of her lounge pants and pulled out a brown plastic pill bottle. She dry-swallowed two more OxyContin. The bitter taste soon gave way to a languid turgidity that moved through her body with a stealthy determination. She leaned the recliner all the way back and tried not to think about the cops or the store or the pain in her leg.

Twenty minutes passed before her cell phone rang. Lou Ellen sat straight up, feeling her heart pounding like a pile driver in her chest. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the screen.

The caller ID said John Elevonone. John 11:1. The first mention of Lazarus in the Bible. Getting a phone call from Lazarus “Lazy” Mothersbaugh was never a good thing. Getting a call from him after you had let one of his fronts get robbed was terrifying.

She could ignore it, but he would just call right back and that would make things worse. As if they could get any worse. She pressed her finger against the screen then held the phone against her ear.

“Hello?”

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t Annie Oakley herself,” a reedy, high-pitched voice said. You could hear the mountains of Lynchburg and Roanoke in his speech. Some people would make assumptions based on that thick accent. Those people were foolish.

“Hey, Lazy,” she said.

“Hey, Lou. How ya feeling? I hear tell you got a bullet that took a tour of your nether regions,” he said. He laughed softly.

“Nah. Got hit in the hip and it came out near my ass.” She heard him take a deep breath. Phlegm rattled through the phone.

“This a mess, Lou. A big ol’ greasy killing hog of a mess,” Lazy said. Lou didn’t respond. “You done good by me, Lou. That’s why I let you work that store.”

“I don’t know what happened, Lazy. Those guys they just came busting in and … I just don’t know,” she said. She didn’t really know. She had her suspicions, but she didn’t know anything for sure.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. A loud banging came from her front door. It sounded like someone was trying to hammer through the door frame.