Hot Shot, page 23
Zack Meadows’s eyes misted over. Then he closed them. Might as well practice what it felt like to be dead. His thoughts took him through his life as he wondered how he had gotten to this place in time. Once he’d been a decent, upstanding guy like Cosmo Cricket. Once. And then the glitz and the glamour of Vegas took hold, and he embraced it along with all that money could buy. He let his mind roll call all the people he’d cheated and stolen from and the lives he’d ruined before he stepped down into the bowels of hell. This was Vegas. If you lived and worked here, you knew the rules. If you played, you ended up paying. It was that simple. Before he allowed himself to fall asleep, he wondered what it would be like, living in hell.
“Now what?” Jack asked.
“Now we plan,” Charles said. “Gather round, boys and one girl. We need to talk.”
The hours dragged by as the group schemed, talked, planned, then broke for lunch and, later on, an early dinner.
At one point, Espinosa untied the fishing line that bound Zack Meadows. The man didn’t so much as twitch, nor did he wake. Cyrus never took his eyes off the sleeping form except to eat and when he went out to do what he had to do.
At seven-thirty, the elevator pinged and Harry’s friends arrived. Charles briefed them and then asked if they had any questions.
Kee, one of Harry’s friends, looked at him and grinned. “You telling me you can’t take those guys on yourself?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.” Harry grinned in return. “Plus, I wanted to give you guys a royal send-off so you’ll have something to remember us by besides pillows.”
One by one, the men lined up against the wall and dropped to the lotus position, where they remained until Charles gave the signal that it was time to leave for Lizzie’s.
“Shall we run through this one more time?” Charles asked.
“NO!” Maggie bellowed. “But if you insist, and it will reassure you, then I guess we can do it.” The others agreed.
Zack Meadows, who had been awakened by Cyrus nipping him on the rear end, groaned. “I go in alone. I just walk up the driveway and knock on the door, the money bag in my hand. I’m going to be fifteen minutes late because we need full darkness, and the rest of you are going to surround the house from the back and enter through the basement door, which is next to the air-conditioning unit. You have a key that will let you in. How’m I doing so far?”
“Keep going,” Jack said.
Meadows muttered something obscene under his breath, but when Cyrus moved, he hastened to say, “We sent a text to Rodriguez telling him not to show up till nine-thirty, which will place all of us inside and in place when he arrives. You said one of your people is monitoring Santiago’s phone in case a call goes through to him from Rodriguez. If that should happen, then your guy will somehow divert the call, so we’re all in the clear till he shows up. Then it’s a crapshoot as to what happens. You happy now?”
“Didn’t you leave something out?” Jack barked.
“Yeah, guess so, the two . . . um . . . portly gentlemen who seem to be running this gig will be out front in the shrubbery in case anyone tries to make a run for it. The one who hogtied me will be a little farther down the road in case one or two of them slip past the two in the bushes. Don’t go telling me I left anything else out, because that’s it in a nutshell.”
Jack nodded. “Okay, he’s got it down pat. I think we’re good to go. I am a little surprised that Santiago hasn’t been in touch. Anyone have any thoughts on that?”
“Not on that, but I do have a question. What happens to all my money?” Meadows asked.
That’s when Maggie Spritzer lost it. She was like a wild woman as she attacked Zack Meadows before the men could figure out what happened. “What happens to your money? What happens to your money? Is that what you asked?” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She started swinging wildly, popping Meadows on the nose, the chin, and the side of his head. Then, just to be even more ornery, she brought her knee up and made contact with the family jewels. Meadows doubled over, tears rolling down his cheeks. For good measure, Maggie kicked him and continued kicking him till Ted pulled her away, still screaming about where all his money was going to go.
Charles decided it was time to intervene. He blew his whistle, and everyone froze. “Enough already. It’s time to leave. You all know what you have to do. Do not, I repeat, do not make me blow this whistle again. On your feet, Meadows, and no one is going to help you. Crawl if you have to, but move now.”
* * *
When they arrived at Lizzie’s, Jack looked down at his watch—8:50. Everyone was in place behind him in single file. The key was in the basement lock and turned. All he had to do was turn the knob and the door would open. Charles and Fergus were deep in the shrubbery on the right side of Lizzie’s front door. Zack Meadows, according to Charles’s last text, was at the end of the driveway, standing behind a thick wooden post that was as dark as the night around him. He was bent over in pain, the money bag at his feet. He waited for the birdcall from the bushes, his signal to walk up the driveway to ring the bell. At that same moment, Jack would open the basement door, and he and his posse would enter the house and make their way up the back steps leading to the kitchen.
Cyrus inched closer to Jack, his massive body quivering with excitement. This was what he lived for, what he’d been trained to do. He felt his master’s hand on his head and rubbed against it to show he was in control. If he could talk, he would have shouted to the housetops.
“Now!” Jack hissed, as the word went down the line. They were inside and lined up on the stairs leading to the kitchen, where he could hear all hell breaking loose, with Meadows talking the loudest to be heard over the snarling voices demanding that the money be counted.
“Then turn on the damn light so everyone can see I’m not cheating you. No one is coming here, especially Mrs. Cricket. She rented a suite at Babylon so she could be closer to the clinic where her husband is recovering. So count already and be done with it. Where the hell is Javier Vincente Rodriguez? We had a deal, Santiago. Where is he?”
“On his way. Traffic. Who knows,” he said, never taking his eyes off Miggy, who was counting the money into neat, tidy piles.
“Okay, it’s all here,” Miggy announced.
“So when are you going to pop him?” Meadows asked.
“When he gets here if he gets here.”
The doorbell rang. In the bright light of Lizzie’s kitchen, everyone looked at everyone else. The decision had not been made as to who was to open the door for Rodriguez. Miggy took it upon himself to do it.
Under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, Javier Vincente Rodriguez was a sight to behold. Never having seen him before, Miggy was in awe, as were the others who were gaping at him. His wild, rainbow-colored hair stuck up six inches over his head. He was tatted from his forehead to the toes sticking out of his run-down sandals. A swastika sat in the middle of his forehead. Tattoos of snakes, vermin, and other reptiles adorned his ears, his nose, his cheeks, and his neck. Alligators and pythons ran up and down his arms, with tats on each finger, along with a silver ring. Two round, gold circles were embedded in his oversized front teeth so that his lips couldn’t close together. A nose ring with a tiny bell tinkled when he moved or spoke.
“Well?”
Meadows stepped forward, obviously in pain. “I’m ready when you are,” he said through clenched teeth.
The door leading to the basement swung open, and Jack and the gang blew into the kitchen like a tsunami. Taken off guard, the Scorpions raced and scrambled for their weapons, but they were no match for Harry, his friends from China, Jack, and Cyrus, who was a black streak flying through the air when one of the Scorpions was about to swing a chain around Harry’s neck. Cyrus brought him to the ground, sat on his head, and waited for the order to release. Harry’s fist shot in the air in Cyrus’s direction as he leaped and twirled, dodging a machete that he snatched and threw into one of Lizzie’s kitchen cabinets.
Cyrus eyeballed Javier Vincente Rodriguez, who whipped out a gun and pointed it at his beloved master. He ignored the wait-to-release order and streaked across the room to body slam the tattooed man to the ground, sink his teeth into the wild mane of hair, and toss the man from one side to the other like a rag doll. When he was done with him, he body slammed him again up against the Sub-Zero refrigerator and left him lying there, out cold.
“I saw it go down,” Harry said. “That dog saved your life, Jack. Big time.”
Jack buried his head in Cyrus’s neck and held on to the big dog for dear life. “I love you, you big galoop. You get two rib eyes the next time we eat.” Cyrus barked and licked Jack from the top of his head to his neck and any place in between he could find.
When the front door opened, Fergus, Charles, and Avery made their way to the kitchen to observe the carnage the boys had wrought. There was blood everywhere. Tough gang members were crying into their arms, sniveling and mewling like beaten animals wondering what had happened to them. Miggy bit down on his lower lip, knowing this was barely half the payback they all deserved for what they’d done. He, too, cried as his tongue sought to find his teeth, which were no longer attached to his gums. He looked over at Alonzo, who was a bloody, pulpy mess, and something in him secretly cheered at his friend’s condition.
“Oh my,” was all Fergus could think to say.
“Lizzie isn’t going to like this,” Charles said.
“No, she isn’t,” Avery said.
“She won’t care,” Dennis said.
“Now what?” Harry asked.
“Now we turn it over to Avery.”
“Whoa! Whoa! No! No! No! I have the punishment for these cruds all picked out. I want them punished for what they did to the tenants and Cosmo,” Maggie bellowed. “And we still need to find the remains of the people they butchered over the last seven months.”
“Well then, okay, dear. What do you need us to do?” Charles asked.
“Strip that guy Santiago down to the buff, and Meadows, too, along with that Rodriguez guy, the walking advertisement for all that’s evil in the world. Find me three broom handles and some duct tape. See that twelve-burner, one-of-a-kind, custom-built stove. We’re going to turn it into one big rotisserie and roast these guys. C’mon, chop chop, don’t make me do it all here!”
Jack swallowed hard. “Are you serious?”
“Do dogs have fleas, Jack? Damn straight, I’m serious. These devils cut off Frances Gossett’s best friend’s head. Frances doesn’t have anyone to play bingo with anymore or anyone to take the jitney with her to the dollar store. Hurry up, I want to see these guys roasting.”
Cyrus ran to the front door, Fergus right behind him.
“Turn on the burners so all twelve are the same temperature. That range is so big, we can line up all three guys and flip them at the same time. What’s the holdup, guys?”
Harry’s friends watched what was going on until one of them finally whispered to Harry to explain what it all meant. Harry patiently explained, a wicked gleam in his eye. “You want to watch or leave?”
“You’re one crazy, wild sum of a bitch, Harry Wong,” Kee whispered as he ushered his friends to the front door.
“Okay, Maggie, as you can see, all three are out cold. The rest of this gang is so traumatized right now, I don’t know if they know their own names,” Ted said.
“Good! Good! Now they know how it feels. Even this is too good for what they did to those people from Happy Village. I can’t wait to go back and tell all of this to Frances Gossett and her cat, Sawdust. After I pretty it up, of course. I don’t want her having a heart attack or anything like that.
“We need to move this right along here. Throw some cold water on them so they sizzle when they hit the burners. It’s gonna stink in here because they’re so hairy and greasy. Yuk! Okay, let’s do it! Keep it up with the water or they’re going to black out again. Meadows, you go first since you started all this. Have at it, boys!” Maggie yelled happily. “This one is for Lady Justice!”
“Santiago, you’re up next!” Maggie singsonged. “One minute on each side, boys. Okay, Mr. Rodriguez, you’re up. Give him two minutes! After that, Avery, they are all yours.”
Maggie walked over to the range and looked down at the three roasting forms on Lizzie’s stove. Their tortured screams were music to her ears. “You all deserve worse than this, but we’re in Vegas now, so you work with the hand you’re dealt. Bye!” she trilled.
“Wait a minute, where are you going?” Ted bellowed.
“When I get there, I’ll let you know. Carry on, boys. Make me proud of you!”
Epilogue
Three days later
Maggie Spritzer fanned herself with the summer camp program as she took her seat with what Jack called the Little Cricket contingent. It was noon, and the blazing sun had finished burning off the early morning fog and dew, leaving it blistering hot. Sweat rolled down her back and arms. “How long is this meet, Jack? I don’t know how long I can handle this heat.” She pointed to the various swim team members, mostly kids Little Jack’s age, as they scampered about screaming and yelling, poking and prodding each other, sometimes shoving an opponent into the crystal-blue water.
“Five minutes once his race is under way. I haven’t even set eyes on LJ yet.”
Espinosa stood up, focused his camera, and moved about, trying to get the best angle to record the swim race so he could send it to Lizzie as promised. Cosmo was making such a rapid recovery, Lizzie said, that watching his son swim in the meet would put him over the top. That all meant that Cosmo Cricket was definitely out of the woods and on his way to a full recovery. Regardless, Lizzie still refused to leave his side.
Charles looked up from the long incoming text he was receiving. He smiled from ear to ear as he motioned for the group to gather close. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “As we all know, the rule here is that ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,’ and since we’re no longer in Vegas, we can talk about it. Annie’s casino manager took it upon himself to go to the owners of the casinos and explain what happened to Cosmo Cricket’s home and the condition it was in when the Scorpions, Zack Meadows, and Javier Vincente Rodriguez were incapacitated from an attack by an unnamed vigilante group. Just the mention of Zack Meadows and what he’d done brought all the owners front and center and willing to do anything that would help the Cricket family.
“Twenty-four hours after being informed, a magnificent house owned by a high roller who went belly up became available in the desert only two miles from where the Crickets lived. It only took an hour to complete the paperwork and another hour to take pictures of Cosmo’s oversized furniture to complete the deal. Four hours after that, every single item in the house was gone, all donated to several different charities. Assurances that all the new furniture would be custom-made and delivered in thirty days sealed the deal.”
Charles continued to read from the overlong text. “It’s unclear who will tell the Crickets at this point, but it’s done, and the Crickets will not be homeless. Vegas takes care of its own, as we’ve come to find out.”
“That’s great. Lizzie said she was never, ever going to enter that house again. I hope they take it apart, board by board, and burn it,” Jack said. “She told me to sell off all the jewelry and stuff that was in the pillowcase and donate it to Happy Village. That’s being taken care of as we speak. The money in Zack Meadows’s money bag is going to be used for upkeep, to finish work on the grounds, and increase the size of the park. We used a portion of it to divide among Lionel and his boys for all their hard work and dedication. There was more than enough to buy them mopeds so they can get around a little easier without having to depend on Lionel all the time.
“A portion of the money is being used to identify the remains of the twenty people the Scorpions had killed and dismembered after that guy Miggs, threatened with the same fate as the three who Maggie had roasted, revealed the location. Once the remains are identified, there will be funerals for all of them so that the residents of Happy Village can get some closure. The rest of the money that Abner found stashed away will be turned over to someone who will know what to do with it. I’m sure there are many long-lost relatives of the deceased tenants from Happy Village.
“Charles and Fergus, along with Avery, had a heart-to-heart talk with Gentry Lomax, soldier to soldier, that sort of thing, and he managed to soften up, according to Charles. I think it was win-win all the way around.”
“Who is going to tell the tenants about the fate of their missing friends?” Maggie asked.
“Gentry Lomax said he would do it,” Charles said.
“Well, I wrote a personal note to Frances Gossett and told her about her friend Ellie. I promised to return the key, so I thought I would write the personal note. I included a second note for Porter Flannery about his friend Will. I just said they were . . . deceased. I saw no reason to give them nightmares with . . . what really happened. The desk clerk at Babylon said she would messenger it to Happy Village.”
Abner leaned into the group. “I’m staying on through next week. Isabelle’s birthday is Sunday, and she’s flying in, so she’ll drive home with me. I’m gonna miss you, Cyrus. You’re a good wingman.”
“So what are you giving Isabelle for her birthday?” Dennis asked.
Abner started to laugh and couldn’t stop. In between gasps of pure merriment, he managed to choke out the words, “Four new pillows from Harry’s new best friend, the pillow guy! Specially made for her and scented with lavender. And I got them wholesale.” Abner continued to laugh.
“The only thing I can add to any and all of this is wheels up at three sharp. We’re going home, chums,” Dennis shouted.
From somewhere behind them, a whistle blew, then came another sound, like a foghorn. Kids of all shapes and sizes appeared from nowhere to take their places in different lines. Girls to the right, boys to the left.
Jack looked around, surprised to see how few parents had come to see their children swim. Then he let his gaze search for LJ, who wasn’t hard to find, since he was the tallest kid in any line. He wished he knew the kid’s game plan, since they hadn’t had a chance to talk since the tearful ex-lax debacle.
