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“Excellent job, guys,” Corey said to Bobby and Ed, then turned to Rick, who was still in a daze from the pain of their interrogation. They hadn’t needed to be so rough, but it worked for their plan. And it had felt damn good, too. “Thanks, bro. We appreciate the heads-up.”
Dewey silently glared at Rick, his jaw tight.
Corey laughed. “Oh yeah. Little Ricky gave you up before Bobby even started turning up the current to his balls. But Bobby kept going anyway, just because Rick really deserved it.”
Bobby nodded in sham solemnity. “He really did.”
Ed gave Dewey a sour look. “This one thought he could get away. I followed him to that shack of his, next to the workshop. He was piling cash in a backpack like his ass was on fire. And”—Ed dug in his pocket and pulled out a handful of spark plugs—“I found these in the front flap of the backpack. They go to our boats, Corey. I checked the camera and he took them right after we got back with Dianne. He wanted to make sure that we couldn’t follow him.”
“Sonofabitch,” Corey muttered. “Can you guys stow Rick in Aaron’s quarters for now? We have things to discuss with Dewey. Make sure that Jace is in the workshop. I don’t want him asking questions.”
Bobby’s lips curved in the smile that had terrified suspects when he’d been a cop. “My pleasure. But you can’t start on Dewey until I come back.”
Corey rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Bobby paused at the door. “Corey, I’m gonna shoot him up, just like we talked, okay?”
Corey felt a tug of unwelcome guilt. Bobby was going to give Rick an overdose of Aaron’s heroin. Bobby was going to kill Rick. Corey nodded once, grateful on some level. He wanted Rick gone, but doing it himself...
He could hear his mother telling him to take care of his little brothers. Well, he had. For three fucking years. That the two of them couldn’t be taught to behave wasn’t Corey’s fault. His brothers had been damaged goods from the get-go.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
Bobby gave him a nod. “You check on the workshop,” he told Ed. “If the coast is clear, just whistle and I’ll dump Rick in Aaron’s bedroom.”
Unsettled and not wanting to be, Corey left Dewey cuffed to the chair in the comm room to check on Dianne.
She still slept deeply. The vodka she’d drunk that morning would make the sleeping pills they’d put in her coffee more potent. He hoped they hadn’t given her too much, but her pulse was steady and strong. Closing the bedroom door, he headed back to the comm room.
Where Dewey had knocked his own chair over.
“Trying to escape so soon?” Corey asked mildly. With one hand he yanked on the chair, setting it upright none too gently. Dewey’s grunt of pain was satisfying.
Corey dragged another chair close to Dewey. “We’re gonna have to hose down the chair Rick was using,” he said companionably. “Rick pissed himself in the first minute. But don’t worry. We installed a drain for easy cleanup. Sometimes we bring guests here, y’see. They have information that we’ve been paid to learn. Bobby is particularly good at convincing these guests to give up whatever our clients want to know, but he leaves a bloody mess. So we built the room with a drain so we could just hose the floor down when he’s finished.”
Dewey’s eyes widened, filling with horror.
“Now,” Corey continued, “Rick told us that you didn’t mean to give him the idea of kidnapping Cardozo’s son. He went through your things one night. Said he was looking for either meth or heroin—he wasn’t picky—but he found your notebook instead.”
Dewey gave Corey a defiant evil eye.
Corey chuckled. “You’re not scaring me. Okay, so I’m going to recap what Rick told us and you’ll get a chance to talk when I’m finished. Rick was there when you broke into my construction office on Saturday night. Imagine how surprised I was to hear that you were there—without my permission—using my office as if it were your own.” Surprise flickered in Dewey’s eyes. “You didn’t know Rick was there, huh? I was surprised to hear that Rick used my office, too. Apparently, he goes there when he ‘needs space.’ ” Corey huffed. “Which is code for when I’ve beaten him for whatever stupid-ass thing he’s done recently. But I digress. You went to my construction office to use my shower and Rick rifled through your stuff.”
More grunts and general posturing from Dewey. Corey ignored him.
“Rick didn’t find any drugs, but, like I said, he did find your notebook—and your gun, by the way. Did you even miss it?” A muscle in Dewey’s jaw bulged, his eyes narrowing. “I guess you didn’t. Maybe you have so many that you didn’t miss one. Well, the cops now have that gun, which works for us tying Rick to drug dealers. Back to your notebook. Rick said you’d made a list of all the ways to get Aaron out of jail. One you’d crossed off was grabbing Cardozo’s kid. That you crossed it off your list shows you do have a brain. But not too big of one, because you came up with the plan to begin with. According to Rick, it was a pretty detailed plan. You knew where Cardozo’s kid would be on Monday night and that he’d be with his pregnant aunt. You were going to chloroform the aunt, then grab the kid and take off, calling Cardozo right away to tell him not to call in the cops. You were then going to use the boy to get Cardozo to drop the charges against Aaron.”
Dewey’s jaw worked, but he couldn’t speak. Duct tape was an amazing invention.
“Rick was very upset to see that you’d crossed it off, because the plan sounded solid to a stupid sixteen-year-old.”
The door opened, Ed and Bobby returning. “What’s he got to say?” Bobby asked.
“Haven’t given him a chance to talk yet. I was setting up the conversation that we’re going to have.”
Bobby laughed. “Corey means we’re going to have fun making you talk.”
“Bobby loves his work,” Ed said dryly. “Maybe a little too much.”
