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We reach the far side of the lobby and head into the night. The valet goes out for my car while Carmine’s driver pulls up and waits for him to get in.
“I’ll consider what you said.” I shake Carmine’s hand. “And you think about what I told you about this situation. We’re dealing with dirty cops, and I don’t think it’s just a few low-level uniforms. I’m thinking this goes up high.”
“I’m familiar with the Dallas police at this point. If there’s something I can do, I’ll do it.”
“I’ll keep you updated then.”
“Good luck. And hey, Angelo, fuck these people, right?”
Now that I can agree with. “Fuck ‘em.”
He gets into his car and the driver glides off.
I watch him go before turning back to the Oak Club. The doors are closed to me now—if I tried to get in, they’d throw me on my ass. This place is the beating heart of the elite’s social circle, and more shady business happens in that place between supposedly decent businessmen than happens in rundown motels like the Two Lane.
Carmine’s right. I let the way Sara looked at me after her parents got in her head fuck with my own self-image. I know what I am and I know what I’m capable of, and if I wanted to burn all this shit to the ground, I’d make it happen.
But I don’t. The tree in there, it’s cool as hell, and it’d be a shame if it went up in a blaze.
As the valet returns with my rental, my phone rings. Sara’s on the other end, sounding breathless. “I found them.”
“You found who?”
“Them. I know who did it. I figured it out, Angelo.”
My heart starts racing. I knew we were close—but I didn’t know we were already there. “Hold tight. Where are you?”
“In the hotel.”
“Don’t move. I’ll be there soon.”
“Angelo. I know who did it.” She laughs, sounding giddy. “And we’re going to ruin them.”
Sara’s pacing back and forth, waving her phone in the air. “It took me forever to read and transcribe those freaking pictures,” she says. “Seriously, never, ever let me do something so stupid again. I should’ve made a photocopy.”
“But now it’s done and you think you found something.”
“Oh, I don’t think it.” She stops and grins at me and taps her phone. “I know I did. Listen to this.” I sit on the couch, legs crossed, and watch as her face lights up. She clears her throat and starts to read.
Misty: So you saw the vans pull up and what happened next?
Wally: These guys got out. Like, I don’t know, twenty of them. All in black and carrying these big guns.
Misty: What kind of guns?
Wally: Big ones. Like, rifles. Machine guns. I don’t know, I’m not from Texas, I don’t even like guns.
Misty: Okay, big guns, I got it. What happened next?
Wally: They ran up the steps to that room and gathered around it. I was standing down near the office smoking and couldn’t pull my eyes away, it was so fucking insane. I kept thinking I should call the police, but then—
Misty: Then what?
Wally: They kicked the door down. Someone threw something inside and there was this loud thump, and this crazy bright light, and they’re all yelling, police, police, police, and someone else was shouting back at them in what I think was like Spanish or something weird. Then the shooting started.
Misty: Shooting. I was told there was no shooting.
Wally: Whoever told you that is a fucking liar. There was a lot of shooting. It all happened at once, like an explosion, and the guys in black went absolutely nuts. They stormed into the room, bang, bang, bang, you know what I mean, just shooting like crazy. So many bullets. I hit the ground, you know, because I’m smart like that.
Misty: Very smart. What next?
Wally: Things got weird. I couldn’t see it all from where I was but I heard some of it. The shooting stopped, it lasted maybe ten seconds, but it felt like forever. Then the guys in black were swarming the place, making calls, talking to each other. They were lingering, you know what I mean? I got up and started toward them because I thought maybe I could help, but one guy pointed a gun at me and told me to get the fuck back inside. He told me to forget I ever saw anything.
Misty: How did he sound? What did he look like?
Wally: Texas accent. White guy, short hair. Like a guy from around here.
Misty: Okay, a local guy. What next?
Wally: Well, I went back into the office. I mean, the guy with the gun just told me to get inside, so I listened.
Misty: Smart.
Wally: Right.
Misty: What next? Did they talk to you anymore?
Wally: That’s the weird thing. I expected more police, but then there was nothing. The guys got back into their vans and just… drove off. Dead silence. And it stayed like that for a while until you folks showed up.
