Mama Law and the Moonbeam Racer. Fred Yorg

Max, as ordered, told Dahlia to pick up her clothes and quickly led her into the back bedroom.

      Tony was eyeing T-Bone, waiting for him to make one wrong move. T-Bone knew he was in trouble, his only chance was to try and talk his way out of it. “Hey man, I got money.”

      There was an icy current in the room while Tony stood there and sized him up. Tony’s grin showed off his capped white teeth as he answered, “Put your clothes on, we’ll talk after the whore’s gone.”

      Before T-Bone could get his first leg through his pants, Dahlia came rushing out of the back bedroom. Max followed her out with a sick smile pasted on his face. She kept her head down from fear; Tony stepped aside as she raced past him and then out the door. Tony looked over coolly at T-Bone, he was shaking. Tony wondered if it was from the cool air in the freezing apartment or fear, then Tony spoke up, “You said you had money.”

      “First, I’s got to know what I’m getting for it.”

      “Get the money, then we’ll see what it buys.”

      T-Bone knew his only chance was to make a play for his gun on the kitchen table under the orange and red dishrag. “Moneys over there on the kitchen table.”

      “Go ahead. Go over and get it, but don’t get cute.”

      T-Bone had a decision to make. Numbers flashed through his head like an adding machine. Jew was on the hook for a hundred grand bail bond. The up front cost of the bond was ten percent, Jew was probably giving the standard fifty percent of the up front fee to these guys. T-Bone had a little over six large, enough to make it interesting, but not enough to insure they’d let him off the hook. This was the toughest decision of his sordid life, give up the money and pray they don’t take you in or make a play. T-bone’s past had finally caught up with him. A three time looser he knew if he went back to Joliet, he wasn’t coming out. He already had a taste of life inside and he didn’t like it. With little hope of getting out, there was no way he could take the chance of going back to Joliet. Two feet from the table he turned and looked back at Tony, hoping to get some clue of his intentions. Tony’s eyes scared the hell out of T-Bone. They were devoid of any life, like that of a shark’s. At that moment T-Bone made up his mind. He knew his only choice was to make a play for the gun. T-Bone almost made it when he grabbed for the gun on the table. Tony was caught off guard, but Max lurking behind him wasn’t. He put two bullets in T-Bone at point blank range. The two shots dropping T-Bone to his knees, the gun slipping harmlessly from his grasp. T-Bone was desperately clinging to life, whimpering like an injured animal as Max coolly stood over him and drilled a death shot right between his eyes.

      Tony never got off a shot, nodding to Max, “Nice work partner, that’s a righteous shooting.”

      Max looked up, “When I’m involved there ain’t no other kind.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

      I glanced at my watch, it was a little after eleven and the cold drizzle had turned into scattered flurries of big wet flakes of snow. They were mesmerizing as they floated down on the windshield of the unmarked car. The inside of the car was cold. You could see your breath every time you exhaled. I was admiring the beauty of the snow when the car radio went off. The dispatcher reported that there had been a shooting on the north side. Knowing the way they operated and their reputation, I had a pretty good idea what had just gone down. Miles ever naïve, nudged me.

      “You think they got our boy?”

      “No.”

      “Want me to call in and check?”

      “You’re wasting your time, Miles. Tony and Max just put a professional hit on T-Bone.”

      “What are you, a physic now? How the hell do you know?”

      “Call in and check if you want. I’m taking a walk around the block; we’ve been sitting here long enough, I need to stretch my legs.”

      “Which way are you going?”

      “Up Wilcox and then down 31st street. Keep your eyes open.”

      The shadows of the night covered my movements as I walked down Wilcox. Then I turned the corner down 31st Street. The wind was picking up and the snow had turned back to a hard rain. Only in Chicago does a light snow turn into a diving rain. It didn’t make any sense, the temperature didn’t feel any warmer to me that was for damn sure. How could it have turned to rain? I slid into the entranceway to an old abandoned building and took refuge. Leaning up against the door, I took in the solitude of the night.

      My mind wandered back to my last visit home in Bayou Cane. Big Aldos, our handyman and my life long friend asked me why I was a cop. The best answer I could offer was, ‘Somebody’s got to do it.’ He looked back and said, ‘That ain’t no kind of fit bizzness for a man like you.’ I looked over at him and nodded, then we dropped the subject. He’d made his point.

      Putting aside the daydreams, my attention turned back to the streets. They were quiet, too quiet for my tastes, like the calm you get in the eye of a hurricane. My eyes told me it was going to be a quiet night but my gut told me all hell was about to break loose.

      The rain continued beating down hard and I waited in my cubbyhole for another fifteen minutes.

      The wind was driving the rain into my body below my waist. The lower part of my body was soaked.

      Finally a break in the storm, it was time to hustle back to the car. Doubling back the same way I came, trying to again use the shadow of the night as cover. Once I got to the car, I jerked open the door and slid in. “Put some heat on Miles, I’m wet and cold. You make the call?”

      Miles reached down and turned on the engine before answering, “Yeah.”

      “Well, you want to tell what happened?”

      “It’s not our boy. Tony and Max had a shoot out at the Wingo Terrace Apartments with T-Bone.”

      “And?”

      “All right, you called it. T-Bone is dead. What do you want me to say? You were right. What do you want me to do kiss your ass because you were right?”

      “That’s not necessary, however, a cup of coffee and a cinnamon bun will do.”

      “You son of a bitch. You want me to go out in this rain. You were just out there. Why didn’t you get it?”

      “I went down Wilcox the other way. Besides it’s your turn to buy. I got it the last time.”

      “I’ll go later, when the rain stops.”

      “The donut shop closes in fifteen minutes. If you’re going, you better make it quick.”

      Miles’ only vice was coffee. I knew he’d go. He pulled up his collar, gave me one more ‘son of a bitch,’ for good measure and then made his way out into the rain.

      Once Miles left the car, the rain, as if on cue, picked up its intensity. By the time Miles got back in the car, it was a well past twelve and he was soaked to the ass. “Here’s your fucking coffee and cinnamon bun. Happy now?”

      “Quite happy, thank you. I notice you only got coffee?”

      “They’re out of everything I like. But as usual they had a slew of your favorites.”

      “Must be the clean living, Miles.”

      Miles muttered something under his breath, but quickly resigned himself to his fate as I savored the cinnamon bun and coffee.

      The coffee and bun took the edge off. When I was finished, I took a quick glance at Miles, even with the hot coffee in hand, he was shaking like a leaf. “Miles, I got a bad feeling about tonight. Let’s head back to the house. You’re wet, the car’s freezing. It’s just a plain miserable night.”

      “No, let’s play it out. I’m okay, besides its not even 1 a.m., our boy still has plenty of time to make a move. If we go back to the house now, we’ll have to listen Max and Tony for the rest of the night. You