Inside Passage. Burt Weissbourd

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СКАЧАТЬ sincere. Above all, he shrewdly exploited his “gift.” He worked to see what others actually wanted, and whenever possible, he gave it to them. By the time he turned thirty, he was well liked and a backstairs political influence inside the LAPD. At night, he went to law school. At thirty-four, Nick sold the Russian diamonds for fifteen million dollars. He was ready to return to Seattle.

      Back in Seattle, Nick made detective. He finished law school, where his ruthless edge was honed razor sharp. Privately managing his most worrisome problems became easier for him at forty in the King County prosecutor’s office, and, finally, routine at his high-profile Seattle practice of union-side labor law. When a thorny problem with his cousin Al was quickly resolved, fifty two year old Nick was reminded that it paid to eliminate a worry early on.

      Nick ran his thumb down the back of his razor-cut hair, still worrying about Corey Logan.

      Corey was drinking coffee at the plank table in front of her hearth, distracted. All weekend she’d had no call back from Billy. Her phone startled her.

      “Corey?”

      It was Sally, their CPS caseworker. Monday morning, 8:00 a.m. This couldn’t be good. “What’s up?”

      “Billy’s run off again. I got the message when I came in. He has been gone three nights. Do you know where he is?”

      “No idea.” Her trepidation was rising relentlessly, an incoming tide. “I was hoping to see him with you Wednesday, like you said.”

      “Can you find him?”

      “I can try.” She closed her eyes.

      “Call me, anytime.” She gave Corey a home number. “One more thing, I got a message to call your PO, Dick Jensen. You know what that’s about?”

      “No.”

      “You okay there?”

      “No problems I know of.” What was happening?

      “Good. Find Billy. It’s important.”

      “I’ll call you.” She broke the connection, tense.

      Corey put down her coffee mug and hurried into her jacket. It would be windy on the ferry deck. She tried his cell phone again. Maybe he had turned it off or thrown it away. Near the sink, she found two Pepcid for her churning stomach.

      She was zipping up her windbreaker when the picture window behind her exploded into her living room. She threw herself face down on the floor amid shards of broken glass. When she looked up, she saw Lester leaning through her broken window. The lizard bastard had smashed it with the heavy brass handle of his cane.

      “Cat got your tongue?” he asked. When she didn’t answer him, he offered, “goddamned cat must have gone right through your cheap, plate-glass window.” Lester made a throaty sound, then he went around and opened the front door. Once inside, he took oversized photos from a large manila envelope and set them on her table. She rose warily to one knee, carefully sweeping aside broken glass. “Your kid’s fucked,” he said, oblivious to her glare.

      She stood warily, eyeing this maniac as she slowly walked toward the table. On her table he had spread out pictures of Billy: with an older boy at his stash; with a baggie; dividing it up; putting the smaller baggies in envelopes; Billy and his girlfriend smoking a joint in a car; Billy and his friends getting stoned in some backyard.

      She stared at the pictures: one, then another. She went for them.

      The brass handle of the cane almost took her fingers off.

      Corey faced him. “Are you crazy?” When he didn’t respond, she added, “Why in hell are you here?”

      “Off the radar screen.”

      “I am off the radar screen.”

      “Out of the country. Tomorrow.”

      What? “Out of the country?”

      Lester tapped his cane on the floor, impatient.

      “And if I don’t?”

      “Billy does his time. Felony drug time. Runs in your sorry family.”

      They knew just what button to push to make her jump out of her skin. “If you ever do that, I’ll tell about you and Nick—”

      “If you told your lies—” Lester stepped closer, and she felt the cane, hard, against the back of her knees. She buckled, stifling a scream. “If you ever did that—” He looked down at her. His watery eyes were dead. “First, we would explain that you were a pathological liar. A lying convicted felon with no evidence.” He leaned in, looming over her. “Then, sometime later—maybe a week, maybe a year—Billy would become invisible, like his dad.”

      She was underwater. No, it was a black viscous liquid, like oil. Corey closed her eyes until she could breathe again. Then she stood, facing him. “Why are you doing this to us now? Why can’t you just leave us alone? I keep to myself. I haven’t said word one.”

      “You’re a thorn.” He stepped closer, his breath warm on her face. “If you’re gone, I can pretend you’re dead.”

      Okay, Lester was a troll who liked swinging cats around by their tails. But Nick had sent him here. Was Nick just trying to frighten her? “You think you can threaten me anytime, and I’ll just do whatever you say?”

      “Yeah, I think that.”

      She let it go. This was scaring her. “What about Billy?”

      “He’s the carrot and the stick. If you follow the program then he follows you. When I’m satisfied. Say a month from now. That’s lucky seven for a whipped bitch like you.”

      Corey closed her eyes, then opened them. “And if he won’t go?”

      Lester made his churlish throaty sound. “We want him to go, he goes.”

      What had she done? Why was this happening? All she could think to do was find Billy. “Before I leave, I have to see him.”

      Lester wrote an address on the back of a picture, then handed it to her. “Nick’s got a guy at the county prosecutor’s office.” He had her full attention. “If you’re not gone tonight,” he waved a gloved hand over the photos, “Billy’s arrested before noon. At school.” Lester’s lips turned up, let’s drown the cat. “One more thing. Dick Jensen is expecting you this morning at 10:00 a.m. He’s heard you have consorted with known offenders. He’s heard you left the jurisdiction without permission. He says you missed a meeting. He asked me if you have a firearm. I said I’d let him know. These are all violations.”

      As always, Lester had saved the worst for last. He was telling her he owned her probation officer, and Jensen could send her back to jail. Jensen had surely called Sally to say that she wasn’t complying with the terms of her release. She wanted to scratch out Lester’s watery, raisin eyes. When she didn’t, Corey felt the blackness coming on. She fought back. “Goddamn you,” she hissed. “You’re—”

      He ignored her. “Like I said, this is a sweet deal for you. You get to be with your son. If it was up to me, I’d see the both СКАЧАТЬ