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I consider abandoning the whole plan, but I’m not going to do that. I want to get a good look at this guy. If he’s done what I think he’s done, I want to get a good look at him before I kill him.
Just after four o’clock, I hear the little bell on the door ring, and James Marino walks in.
“Good mornin’, Jimmy,” the store owner says with a laugh.
“Fuck you, Mac.”
“Just tryin’ to be neighborly!”
I feign examining some cheap bottles of blended scotch and watch Jimmy through my dark sunglasses. Despite the thin, greying hair and hollow cheeks, I can still see a hint of Alina in him. His eyes, though sunken, are the same color as hers, and there’s something about the way he stands that seems familiar.
He steps immediately up to the shelf full of whiskeys near where I stand and grabs for a bottle of Jim Beam. He doesn’t take any notice of me as he mumbles something about the shopkeeper jacking up the price and takes his purchase to the counter.
“It’s a buck more than yesterday.” His complaint is ignored, and he slams a few bills on the counter.
“Sign up for the lottery,” Mac says. “Gonna pick a winner every day.”
“Whatever the fuck,” Jimmy grumbles. “Is this supposed to make up for you fucking around with the prices?”
“I only work here, Jimmy. You know that.”
Jimmy leans over the scrap of paper Mac has handed him and scribbles on it before shoving it into a cardboard box near the cash register. He exits without another word.
I reach for the nearest bottle and take it up to the counter.
“Will this be all for ya?” Mac asks.
“Yep.” I push my sunglasses up on my nose.
“Hair of the dog, huh?” Mac chuckles.
“Something like that,” I say with a smile. Mostly I don’t want to make my looks too easily recognizable. I also don’t want to look like I’m trying to disguise myself, which makes people look at you longer.
“Wanna sign up for our lottery?”
“What’s the prize?”
“Twenty-five dollar gift card.”
“Sure.” I scrawl out a completely illegible entry and shove it in the cardboard box.
“Have a good one!” Mac calls as I head out.
“You, too,” I reply, and the door closes behind me with a bang.
Jimmy is no longer in sight, but I assume he’s headed back to his apartment. He’s collecting disability for a supposed back injury and doesn’t appear to go out much. I toss my bottle of cheap liquor into the passenger seat of the Volvo and drive off.
I don’t go far. There’s a park just a couple of blocks away, and it’s as good a place as any to kill some time. I don’t want to be out terribly late even though Alina said she needed a couple of days to get herself in order before she moved in.
I’ve delivered Teto’s money. I have no idea what she’s going to tell him, if anything at all, but at least my business with him is done. I talked to the landlord about moving into a two bedroom unit as well. I figured Alina might like to have her own space, and I want to do anything and everything to make this work out.
At some point, she’s going to hear about her father. I don’t know how she’ll react, and I’m not sure I can play dumb well enough for her to think I had nothing to do with it. No matter how good an actor I might be, she’s going to have her suspicions.
That doesn’t matter. Assholes like James Marino need to be handled.
Shortly after nine o’clock, I drive to the post office around the corner and hoof it from there. Most of the streetlights are out of commission, and there’s little light to show my passage. The apartment building where Jimmy lives isn’t secured at all, and I just walk right in and find his unit. I pull on a pair of leather gloves and knock on the door.
“What the fuck do you want?” Jimmy’s words are slightly slurred.
