The Hard Bounce - [18]

I lifted myself off the floor and walked out. The sedan that delivered me was still idling. Kelly stood by the open car door. She stormed over when she saw me, fury still burning in her eyes. “How dare you!” she yelled.

“Back off,” I croaked, my self-control thinner than a piece of floss.

She stepped up, right in my face. “I am not some piece of… of… ass!” She was so enraged, I wasn’t sure whether she was finishing her sentence or calling me an ass.

The floss snapped.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I yelled right back in her face. “You were used, babe. Face it. You’re a tool, just like I am, to be exploited by these fuckers as they see fit.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Of all the people who work for Donnelly, you think you were sent into the lion’s den because of your people skills?”

“No… What? What do you mean, you’re about to be used?”

I though of the carrot Donnelly had dangled in front of my nose. “Until your boss decides to share that tidbit with you, sweetheart, file it under ‘none of your fucking business.’”

She took a step back from me, stunned at the venom I was spitting. “Whatever you think about this… you have no right to… I have to-”

“No. The only thing you have to do is wiggle your tight ass back into that car. I’ll call you when I’m good and goddamn ready. You got that?”

She pursed her lips, retreating back into Ice Queen mode. “That will be just fine.” She turned briskly and walked back to her waiting car. The car pulled away, leaving me without a target for my fury. When the taillights disappeared around the corner, I swung wild punches into the air, wanting something, someone to beat on.

Then I realized I’d just fucked-off my ride back.

I caught a little luck and was able to hop on one of the last inbound trains of the night. I got back to the bar close to midnight. Junior stood at the door, arms still crossed and attitude intact.

“Everything go okay?” I asked.

“Peachy. You?” He lifted his chin toward Commonwealth Avenue. “I see you didn’t get chauffeured back.”

“How did you know?”

“Bout a half-hour ago, Barnes rolled up and handed me an envelope. Said, ‘Give it to Malone when he gets here.’” Junior gruffed his voice and did a shuffling waddle. Not a bad impersonation. “I don’t think he’s too taken by your charms.”

“I’m an acquired taste. You look in the envelope?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. I was going to, but a little brouhaha broke out in the bar and I had to regulate.” Junior absently sucked on a scraped and red knuckle. “I left it on the desk.” Junior checked the IDs of two girls and let them pass. “So what happened?”

I reached in my pocket and found some gum and smokes. I went with the cigarette, of course. “For starters, I called that Reese chick a piece of ass. She didn’t like it too much.”

Junior barked a laugh. “Most girls would take that as a compliment.”

“Most girls we know, anyway.”

“So what’s up? Who’s the boss-man on this cluster fuck?”

I could see Junior was champing the bit, waiting for me to get back with some answers. I took another long drag, toying with his patience for my own enjoyment. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“In a good way, or a bad way?”

“Both. Jack Donnelly.”

He waited for more. “What about him?”

“That’s who’s doing the hiring.”

He stared at me blankly, waiting to see if I was fucking with him. “Great googly moogly! Big Jack Donnelly?”

“Shhh!” I waved at him to keep his voice down. “DL, stupid. DL. The whole reason we’re being asked is because we’re supposed to be able to keep a lid on things.”

“This is big, man. He’s a big man.”

“That’s why they don’t call him Little Jack Donnelly.”

Junior frowned. “Don’t be a dick. You know what I mean.” If Junior was a cartoon, little cash register tabs would have cha-chinged behind his eyes.

“Cassandra’s his runaway daughter. We’re going to find the poor lost lass amongst the social dreck of our peers.”

“I do so love it when you talk like a PBS fruit.” Junior grinned and bounced foot to foot like a kid on Christmas morning. “How much?”

I sat on the sidewalk and leaned against the brick. The sick feeling had doubled up on my train ride, when I really had time to think about what was being offered. “How much what?”

Junior squinted at me. “You okay?”

I took a long drag and exhaled the smoke out my nose. “He said he could find Emily.”

“He said that?”

“Not in so many words.”

“What words did he use?”

“He said he could find people, too. Who else could he mean?”

“But he didn’t say Emily, exactly-”

“No, but-”

“No, but my hairy ass. Before you get your panties all twisted, maybe he was talking bout the broad who gave you the clap in Oh-6. You always wondered who that was.”

I didn’t reply, just stared at the cigarette in my hand, brain slipping away toward memories of Emily.

“You want her found?” Junior asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, as much to myself as to him.

“Ain’t that a dick in the ass.”

“Yeah.”

Junior nudged me in the shin with the tip of his boot. “Enough about your sorry bullshit. Let’s talk about what really counts.”

“And what is that?”

“Me, jackass. Money. My moolah. How much money we getting to find the kid?”