Twice the Trouble by Ash Clifton

Author:Ash Clifton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

* * *

She hung up.

He cranked up the van and drove off. It occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he stopped off at a Korean barbecue joint he liked. He sat at the bar, which was built in the shape of a big U, and ordered a plate of bulgogi and a Miller Lite. From his stool, he had a good view of the parking lot, where he had left the van in the shade of a crepe myrtle tree. He waited in silence, staring out at the tree. His conversation with Faith had unnerved him. He had told her he could pull it off, the whole case. But could he? What were the odds that he, himself, would end up in prison by the time the whole affair was done? Then he remembered what Kiril had said—that they should punt.

Punt. Noland shook his head. Typical, he thought, for an offensive lineman to think about punting. He remembered how thrilled he’d been, back in his own playing days, whenever he and the boys on the D-line forced the other team to punt. It was a mini-victory. It meant those other guys couldn’t roll with them. They were outclassed, if only for the moment. Now Kiril wanted to punt. Fuck that. Noland thought of Valkenburg’s handsome face, grinning in the photograph with Bisby. Noland had promised Faith he would run Valkenburg down, and so he would. Valkenburg had probably been getting away with things his entire life. It was time someone called him on it.

And then there was the matter of Sabine’s head. Whoever had put it there had done so to send a message, or perhaps as a joke, and this struck Noland as intolerably perverse. He remembered how, in Raiford, the younger convicts had a special term for things that offended them: “not proper.” It had taken Noland some time to learn that the set of things deemed “not proper” contained everything from minor slights to unnecessary murder. Would they consider Sabine’s dismemberment “not proper”? He bet they would. And Noland agreed. Killing somebody was one thing—he could understand the need for that. But mutilation? That was unnecessary. Barbaric. Not proper.

Vengeance is mine, he thought to himself, and I will repay.

It was the only line in the Bible that he really got.

His bulgogi and beer came. As he ate, the combination of spicy food and alcohol calmed his nerves. At some point, he looked out through the window and spotted a black-and-white OPD cruiser as it rolled lazily into the parking lot. A single dark silhouette lurked inside, which meant that it was an older officer—someone who didn’t need backup. Noland was not very surprised when the cruiser stopped directly in front of the van, and the silhouette tilted its head to the side in that familiar gesture, speaking into his shoulder mic.

Noland got out his phone and texted Kiril.

—U stash everything?

—Not yet

—Do it now. asap

—Cops?

—Yeah. If I don’t get back to you in 2 hours call Faith

He wolfed down the rest of the food and finished his beer.

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