Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

I woke up late morning, chagrined that I'd even gone back to bed. I was losing my edge. There were things to be done. The highest priority was one I didn't want to do, which might have added to my acquiescing when Rose suggested I needed some rest.

I grabbed my satellite phone and headed to a spot where I could be alone: the park along the Little Melvin. What I really wanted to do was crawl back into bed. Rose had told me I needed rest, but I had to call Herc, no matter how much I didn't want to.

I'd been impressed with her and the way she'd handled the Witches, two of whom had climbed into the Uber and hightailed out of town. Hermione had said something about making sure Sid got a proper burial, which seemed like a waste of time, but the heart can want strange things.

One thing at a time.

I still hadn't had anything to eat and my stomach rumbled.

As I walked down State Street, I punched in Herc's number. He was a bit slower to answer this time, five buzzes. I figured he was hanging someone over a pool of piranhas or something else nefarious that caused the delay.

"What?"

"Sid Quill was stepping on cocaine and moving it to the Outfit," I said, figuring to lead with the headline and keep Herc on the ropes. "I don't know where he was getting it from, though, as he appears to have been a cutout. And Melissa Merriweather was freelancing hits."

"You know this because you are miles down the Appalachian Trail from Rocky Start, right?"

"You know exactly where I am," I said. "You have access to the Ferrells' feeds. Now. About Sid."

"I assume he's been dealt with, then," Herc said.

"He's dead," I said. "But we don't know who killed him. That's the other problem. Both he and Melissa Merriweather have been killed."

"Shit happens," Herc said, going Forrest Gump on me.

"Were they working together?" I asked.

"There is no connection between the two in their past," Herc said. "And there's no one in town that has a grudge big enough from the past to want to kill either and/or both. I do my homework, Max, before directing anyone to Rocky Start. What did you do about the cocaine?"

"Luke is going to incinerate it," I said.

"Who came to pick it up?"

"Three sisters. One of them was boinking Sid. Coral called them the Witches."

"The Witches. I've heard of them," Herc said. "Couriers."

"Can you drop a line to the Outfit?" I asked. "Tell them their Rocky Start connection is out of commission and not to come back?"

"Do I work for you?"

"Do you want Rocky Start on the map for the Outfit?"

"I'll take care of the Outfit," Herc said.

"One of them said something odd," I said. Then I sneezed. Loudly.

"Geez, Max. Cover up before you do that into the phone."

Herc was not known for his empathy. "I'm sick." I tried to remember what I was about to say. It was like trying to think through pudding. "One of them said that Sid told them he was authorized to do the cocaine in Rocky Start. Pike says there's no way he or Oz would have allowed it. Did you?"

"Fuck you, Max," Herc said. "Why would I do that?"

"Fuck if I know why you do most of the things you do," I snapped back.

"He was probably referring to the Outfit," Herc said. "I'll take care of them. Rocky Start is way out of their territory. We've crossed paths in the past."

I remembered how the Chicago mob had had connections to JFK so many years ago, with Sam Giancana and JFK even sharing the same mistress, so I wasn't surprised that Herc also had had dealings with them. There's a thin line between organized crime and organized covert government.

Very thin.

"Sid probably needed to pay for the pure cocaine he was stepping on," I said.

"And?" Herc asked.

"Do you know who it was?"

"I didn't know Sid was dealing," Herc said, too smart to fall for my feeble attempt to catch him in a lie. Rose could probably get more out of him. "What are you going to do when whoever that is shows up for their money?"

"Not a priority right now," I said. "We've got two dead and we don't know who killed them. That's what I'm focused on."

"Max, Max, Max."

"Did you order the hits?"

There were several seconds of silence. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Herc finally asked, this time with real anger.

I was taken aback. I knew he wouldn't be happy to be asked that, but usually he was calm to the point of appearing disinterested when discussing even the most dangerous situations.

"I'm the guy trying to clean up the messes in this enclave you've been using as a big safe house." I sneezed once more and put some emphasis into it.

"It benefits the inhabitants more than me, so spare me."

"You knew Oz was dead before I told you."

The response was a lasting silence. Then: "I know a lot of things, Max."

I saw Rowan's Cybertruck tool by on State Street. It was becoming an all-too-common sight around town. Which reminded me.

"There is another issue."

"Oh, more. Delightful."

"There's a reporter snooping around. Named Rowan Masters."

" The Serial Killers Nobody Knows ," Herc said, because that was the kind of book he'd keep on his nightstand for pleasant put-me-to-sleep reading. "What does he want?"

"He says he's researching, but he's vague about what exactly."

A couple of seconds of silence, then Herc said, "We can't have him doing that, can we?"

"What do you mean ‘we'?" I asked. I was glancing in shop windows as I ambled down State Street, on the off chance there might be another posed body.

"It seems you're forming attachments to Rocky Start, Max. Or should I say to a member of Rocky Start. Rowan Masters is a threat to all of that. I suggest you deal with him."

I blinked. "Is that a contract?"

"It's a suggestion."

It was stupid, as even Pike had pointed out. Make a famous journalist disappear? Oh yeah, just what we needed. "The Streisand Effect," I said.

"The what?"

"When someone tries to cover something up, thereby drawing even more attention than the original thing." But even as I said it, I realized that if Rowan was as off the grid as Dottie had reported, no one would know where he'd disappeared.

It occurred to me that maybe those spots Oz had marked on the map were where he'd buried people, but then I realized he'd used Melissa to cremate the bodies, so no. Oz wouldn't have left corpses lying around that could be dug back up.

I was having a hard time keeping a straight thought.

"You overthink things, Max," Herc said.

"Speaking of contracts, I haven't been paid for the last op we agreed on."

"Which was?"

This was not going the way I had anticipated. "Taking care of things here in Rocky Start."

"It's obvious you haven't handled things very well, isn't it?"

"I shut down Serena. That was the problem."

"You winged Serena," Herc pointed out. "I shut her down. Permanently."

He acted like injecting poison into a woman somebody else had already subdued was some heroic act.

"And now you have killings and a reporter," Herc said. "You know, Max, you're getting on my nerves. Everything was fine in Rocky Start until you showed up."

"You fucking diverted me here," I snapped.

"To check on my daughter," Herc said. "Who you haven't said anything about."

I passed the Wok Inn and reached the river and turned toward the park.

"She's fine. And I didn't cause all this other stuff," I said to Herc.

"Really? You're a shitstorm, Max. I told you to get back on the Trail."

I put my hand on my forehead, feeling the bump. I was starting to feel a bit disoriented, as if my reality had just done a one-eighty. I went around the corner onto River Road, heading toward the small park and picnic table.

"I'm not leaving until I resolve whatever the hell is going on in Rocky Start," I said. "So if you give me help, I can be on the Trail that much faster."

"Max, Max, Max," Herc said, sounding very sad. "You are a true pain in the ass at times."

Which is when I saw Rose in Rowan's cybertruck. With Rowan.