Page 154 of Out Of A Fix

“So fast,” he agreed. “Once we were back at the station, Griff’s passed out in his cell, and one minute I’m telling Mullane I’m gonna take his product off his hands and he’s gonna drive right out of town, easy as can be, but before I could even get a response from the bastard, he’s got my fuckin’ deputy’s gun in his hand, Benning’s gun, because that idiot left his fuckin’ thumb break unsnapped.”

Easy to grab a weapon that way. If your gun was in a holster, the muzzle angled toward the ground, the snap fastener wrapped around the end of the firearm secured it in the holster. When I was a homicide detective, lots of guys left them open, which was dangerous. The point was to keep you from simply being able to draw and shoot or someone else from pulling your weapon and using it against you.

“So you shot him.”

“The fuck was I supposed to do? Let him kill me, Daniels, and Benning?”

Mullane might have shot them all. It was possible. Or he would have made everyone give up their guns, locked them in a cell, and run for his life. There was no way of knowing. I had no idea what kind of man James Mullane was, other than smart enough to put the key to his Camaro in Griff’s pocket.

“No,” I agreed, trying to keep him calm as he picked up my gun, put it in the pocket of his parka, then stomped on my phone several times. It was so very dead.

“You’re going to walk out of the garage for me, go directly to the Chevy Tahoe parked out front, and get in behind the steering wheel.”

First rule was never, ever, get into a vehicle. Unless… “Why don’t you get into mine,” I offered, gesturing at the Jeep. “If I’m driving, it will be easier to⁠—”

“In the car!” he roared.

Walking out of the garage, I glanced up and down the street. But it was lunchtime on a weekday, and as we had only school-age kids on our street, there was no one around.

“So Mullane was dead and then what?”

He waited as I got into the driver’s seat, then got into the seat behind me. “We had to work fast to get rid of the body and that goddamn neon sign of a car on the side of the highway, that’s what.”

“But when you checked Mullane’s pockets, no key?”

“No nothing.”

“Why did you even pull him over in the first place?”

“Car like that? You know he’s carrying something worth money.”

“Why grab Griff, though?” I asked, despite knowing why. I slowly put my seat belt on, then placed my hands on the wheel, leaving the car idling. “Just because you were mad at the kids who trashed your place?”

“My whore of a daughter lied to me, pinned all that shit on him, plus I hate his fuckin’ father. Luke Duchesne is a first-class prick. Always the first one asking the mayor questions about me. I knew throwing his worthless-ass kid into lockup would serve him right.”

“Where am I going?” I asked, feeling the rage building over him putting his hands on Griff. “I need to know.”

“Toward the police station.”

Backing out, I took a right instead of a left, taking the long way out of our neighborhood. Wilson, too busy ranting, didn’t take any notice.

“I hosed that kid down with water and left him lying in a puddle in one of the cells, and then I searched for that key to get the car moved before the state police found it. Everyone reported that he was shivering all night.” He seemed to find this amusing, then abruptly sobered. “I never thought to check his pockets.”

He also failed to notice how slowly I was driving.

“And then when me and Firmin finally got Mullane’s body taken care of, before I could even wonder if somehow that skinny Irish douchebag drug dealer hid it on the kid, Daniels calls and says Griff’s guardian is there to spring him. The fuck was that?”

“I’m a fixer. That’s what we do.”

“So of course everyone turned on me. I lost my wife, my kid, my job, all my assets are frozen, I’m on the run, and… I’m not doin’ it anymore.”

“Okay.”

“And then I realized, you’re the cause of all my problems, not Griffin Duchesne.”

Sometimes I hated being right all the time, but in this instance, better me than Griff. I would not have had things work out any other way. “Yeah, but you want to be free, don’t you? Why do this? Why come back?”

“I told you—my life is over. Taking you with me helps, at least a little. The two of us will go right off Thompson Bridge up here, and that’ll be the end.”