Moonlight Mile (Patrick Kenzie and Angela Gennaro) by Dennis Lehane

Author:Dennis Lehane
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780061836923
Publisher: William Morrow
Published: 2011-01-14T19:11:51+00:00

Chapter Fifteen.

Kenny came in behind her. He looked confused for about half a second before h e reached behind his back. I reached behind mine.

He said, Ho.

I said, Hey.

A young girl came in behind him. She opened her mouth wide but no sound cam e out. She wrung her hands by her side as if she'd stepped on the third rail. I g ot a good look as she stepped hard to her left to get out of our line of fire.

Sophie Corliss. She'd lost the weight her father had demanded of her. And the n some. She was gaunt and sweaty and stopped acting electrified long enough t o sink her hands into the back of her head and pull at her own hair.

I held out one hand. This does not have to go this way.

What way? Kenny said.

The way where we both pull our guns.

You tell me, sport, which other way this can go.

Well, I said, I could remove my hand from my gun.

But I might just shoot you for your trouble.

There's that, I agreed.

And if I remove my hand? He frowned. It's the same result, different victim.

If we did it at the same time? I offered.

You'd cheat, he said.

As I nodded, he cleared his gun and pointed it at me.

Sneaky, I said.

Let me see the hand.

I removed my hand from behind my back and held up my cell phone.

It's nice, Kenny said, but I think mine has more bullets.

True, but did your gun call anyone?

He took a step forward and then another. My screen read HOME. CONNECTED: 39

SECONDS .

Oh, he said.

Yeah.

Helene said, Fuck, very softly.

You put the gun down or my wife calls the police and gives up our location.

Let's Tick, tock, I said. It's fairly obvious you're ripping identities an d committing a few thousand levels of consumer fraud here. Plus you're makin g crank somewhere nearby and then you're baking the used coffee filters in th e microwave just to squeeze out that little extra. You want the police en rout e within, oh, thirty more seconds, keep holding the gun on me, Kenny.

Angie's voice came through the cell phone. Hi, Kenny. Hi, Helene.

Helene said, Is that Angie?

It is, Angie said. How you doing?

Oh, Helene said, you know.

Kenny frowned and looked terribly tired all of a sudden. He thumbed the safet y forward and handed me the gun. You're one frustrating motherfucker.

I put the gun, an S&W Sigma 9mm, in the pocket of my jacket. Thank you. I t urned my lips toward the phone. Catch you later, honey.

Grab some bottled water on the way home, would you? Oh, and some half-and-hal f for the morning.

Sure. Anything else?

Kenny rolled his eyes.

Yeah, but I can't remember what it is.

Well, call me when you think of it.

Cool. Love you.

Love you, too.

I hung up.

Sophie? I said.

She looked over at me, surprised I knew her name.

You carrying?

Huh?

A gun, Sophie. Are you carrying a gun?

No. I hate guns.

Me, too, I said.

But you've got one in your pocket.

That's called irony. How strung out are you right now?

Oh, I'm not bad, Sophie said.

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