Read I Never Thought I'd See You Again: A Novelists Inc. Anthology Online

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Tags: #FICTION/Anthologies (multiple authors)

I Never Thought I'd See You Again: A Novelists Inc. Anthology (6 page)

He made quick work of hot-wiring the car, and it purred into life.
Purr
might be an exaggeration. The car didn’t sound well.

“Angel, in.”

She complied. He wished he knew what she was thinking. He didn’t know what to say to make her trust him, but right now all he cared about was finding a safe place to stay while he figured out what to do.

He took back roads around the Verdugo Mountains into Sunland.

“Where are we going?” Angel finally asked.

“A buddy from my unit.”

She didn’t say anything else.

“Angel, I’m going to figure this out.”

“Just — you know, maybe find me a place to stay for the next day and I’ll be fine. Once I get to the courthouse Monday morning, there’s nothing anyone can do to me. I’ll tell my story, and that’s that.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

She wouldn’t look at him. His fingers clutched the steering wheel. Hard. He wished he could just drop her off at a shelter and say good riddance, but now that he’d met her, he couldn’t walk away like he’d done ten years ago. He couldn’t keep an eye on her from afar. Angel was his kid. His
daug
h
ter.
That meant something. Maybe he didn’t realize it when he was a twenty-three-year-old Marine who’d just found out during his two-week leave that he had a five year old, but he damn well knew it now.

Jake circled around Lucky’s neighborhood until he felt confident that there was no one who shouldn’t be here hanging around. The sixties and seventies era homes looked tired, a mix of old and remodeled, of chain link fences and low stone walls and dying rose gardens. Lots of motorcycles and trucks and cars up on blocks. A blue-collar, working class neighborhood. As the homes went higher into the mountain, so did the quality and the prices.

Lucky’s house was up a street that twisted and turned. Jake parked two streets over, off the main road. This time, he wiped down the car, including the wires, and Angel stood in the damp air and watched with blank eyes that reminded him too much of his own.

“It’s not far,” he said as they walked.

She didn’t complain, and Jake almost wished she would, telling him she was on her game.

Two blocks later, they were at Lucky’s house. It was a small seventies ranch house set back from the street with faded siding, a carport, and prominent
no solicitors
sign. The only indication that anyone was living there was the Harley in the carport and a shiny flagpole in the middle of the dead lawn.

The sun had just begun to light up the eastern sky, but the street was still quiet. If Lucky was the same paranoid bastard that he the twenty-first centuryuma’d been in Afghanistan, he would know someone was at his doorstep before Jake knocked; but he knocked nonetheless.

He didn’t hear much of anything inside, except for the faint hum of a radio. He took a step back and put a protective arm near Angel.

A sound around the side made Jake turn and put his body between Angel and the threat. “Lucky, it’s Jams.” He used his nickname.

“Really? Jams? Wow.” Lucky stepped out of the shadows, though Jake could barely see him because his skin was so black. He had a knife in his hand, which he dropped to his side. “What are you doing here?” He eyed Angel. “Isn’t she a little young?”

“She’s my daughter.”

“No shit?” Lucky stepped onto the porch and opened the door. “Come in.”

Lucky hadn’t changed. He was still a rock solid former high school football star with a buzz cut. Like Jake, he’d joined the Marines right out of high school. He’d been discharged six months before Jake on a medical disability — they’d been in a convoy and were ambushed. Two of their unit killed, and four seriously injured — including Lucky. It hadn’t been the worst they’d taken over the years, but it had been bad. Before that, Jake had planned to reenlist, but he decided to take the six years and run.

Lucky’s place was clean but cluttered with useless stuff. Stacks of newspapers and magazines and books. He had guns lying around as if they were table decorations. “What brings you here? I haven’t seen you in ages. Heard you went to jail for beating up some pervert. Should have given you a fucking medal.”

“Damn straight,” Jake said. “I need your help.”

“Whaddya need?”

“A place to crash. One of the Mexican gangs is after Angel because she saw a murder. She’s testifying tomorrow. I need to keep her safe until then. I was hoping you had a car I could borrow.”

“I got a spare room, no car. Might be able to lay hands on one.”

“I can pay.”

“Right, like I’ll take a dime from you.” Lucky turned to Angel who hadn’t moved from the entry. “He saved my sorry ass more than once. You got a good dad here.”

Angel said, “I need a bathroom.”

“Down the hall, on the left.”

Angel left and Jake considered following her. She was acting squirrelly, and he was afraid she’d bolt.

“Does your bathroom have a window?”

“Doesn’t open,” Lucky said. “What’s going on?”

“It’s complicated. Someone high up in the justice system is leaking information to the G-5 gang about Angel. She’s testifying against the gang leader in a double homicide.”

“Brave girl. Of course she is, she’s your kid.”

“That’s the complicated part. We haven’t exactly met before tonight.” your help.”d fas

“Oh.” Lucky sat down. “Well, shit, Jams, that’s not cool.”

“I need to keep her safe until I can get some answers. Can you help with that?”

“You want me to babysit?”

“I don’t have anyone else I trust.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t.” He picked up a toothpick and chewed.

Angel came out. “Jake, can I crash on the couch?” She pointed.

Lucky said, “Take the first bedroom on the left, next to the bathroom. It’s kind of a mess, but there’re clean sheets in the dresser.”

Jake walked down the hall with Angel. “You okay, kid?”

“I’m just tired.”

Jake wished he could read her. She wasn’t being mouthy, and she looked like death warmed over. “Is your side okay?”

“No blood.”

“Good.”

She hesitated, then asked, “Why does he call you Jams?”

“Because I have a reputation for getting out of tight spots.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get you out of this, Angel. I promise.”

She nodded and closed the door.

Chapter Eight

Thanks to Lucky, Jake listened into the police frequencies and learned a lot more about what had happened at the group home and Angel’s status.

It was worse than he’d thought. She’d been listed as armed and dangerous and affiliated with G-5. The shooting at his apartment was also on the police channels, but they hadn’t connected it with Angel.

“Are you sure she’s not involved with the gang?” Lucky asked. He handed Jake a fresh cup of black coffee.

“Yes,” Jake said without hesitation.

“Seems to me you have a lot of trust in a little girl you’ve never met before.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Just saying, something’s fishy here. Even if she isn’t involved, is she telling you the whole story?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

He’d been a cop, had dealt with teenagers like Angel a thousand times. They had a natural distrust of cops. Coupled with the fact that she’d thought he was a deadbeat dad her entire life, he wouldn’t blame her for keeping information to herself.

But someone
was
trying to kill her. Until tonight, she’d only been wanted as a material witness. Now, she was wanted for far more serious charges. She wasn’t safe on the streets. He didn’t even know if she was safe here. said, stepping into the room">
“ma

Lucky said, “You gotta find out who’s ratting her out to the G-5s. Once you do that, you’ll know who to turn her over to.”

“I’m not turning her over to anyone.”

“You gonna keep her? What were you, eighteen when you got her mother knocked up?” Lucky snorted. “You’re a thirty-four-year-old former Marine ex felon. What you doing now?”

“Working for Cutler.”

“No shit? Clive Cutler? Bastard. You think he’s straight?”

“Crooked as they come, but he’s not going to turn on me. I also didn’t tell him where I found her, or that I was taking her back to my place.”

“Healthy level of distrust is always good.” Lucky gulped down coffee. “Why’s she doing this at all? People just don’t testify against gangbangers out of the goodness of their heart.”

“To save her friend,” Jake muttered.

“Why’d they send her to juvie in the first place? Why not protective custody or something?”

Jake didn’t have a good answer. Angel had been evasive, and there was a lot of time unaccounted for. Jake was certain there was more to the story than Angel said. He needed more information, but he first needed to find out if Larson was the one who set her up. “Do you have a burner phone?” he said.

Lucky rummaged through his desk and tossed Jake a small Nokia. Jake called Cutler.

“The cops are all over your place,” Cutler said in lieu of a hello. “You’re not answering your phone. What the fuck is going on?”

“Angel witnessed a gang execution and is set to testify on Monday morning. They’re trying to stop her. I need information.”

“I’ve been up half the night. The cops are looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because your apartment and car are all shot up?”

“My car? They messed with my car?”

“Shot it up, burned it out. Cops just want to ask you questions.”

“So they know Angel’s my kid?” Better his car than his daughter. But damn, why’d they have to destroy the Charger?

“I don’t think they’ve made the connection.”

“You don’t sound confident.”

“Shit, Jake, I don’t know. The cops didn’t ask me about her. They just wanted to know where you were.”

“And what’d you tell them?”

“You’re on a job, I don’t know where the hell you are. It’s the truth, right?”

“What’s the theory about the group home shooting?”

“She’s wanted as an accomplice. They haven’t ID’d an your help.”d fasy of the shooters, but they have her name.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Maybe you should call Burke.”

Jake’s blood ran hot, then cold. “No.”

“She lives for this shit.”

“No.”

“Just saying, she got you out of a couple jams, she can help your kid.”

No way was Jake calling in defense attorney Madeleine Burke unless he absolutely had to. “Did you find out anything on Larson?”

“Not much. Born and bred in the Valley. Rising star in the DA’s office.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all I could find in the middle of the fucking night, Morrison.”

“Find out what she does in her off hours. If she has vices she doesn’t want her boss to know about. Background. Everything.”

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking — ”

“Don’t think, just do.” Jake hung up.

Lucky said, “Do you read the papers?”

Jake glanced around at the tidy mess of newspaper. “Not if I can avoid it.”

Lucky grabbed one near the top. “Saturday’s
Times
.” He flipped through most of it, then folded it over and pointed to a small box on the crime page. No photos, just two paragraphs.

Two bodies found in canal
Los Angeles — Late Thursday, a routine patrol found two bodies, an unidentified male and female, in a wash south of the Orange Line overcross. The coroner released a preliminary report Friday afternoon asking for help in identifying the victims, made more difficult by time spent underwater. He did not release the cause of death, and the murders are currently under investigation by the LAPD.
The female, Hispanic, approximately fifteen, has an elaborate cross tattoo down the center of her back. She was four months pregnant. The male, also Hispanic, approximately seventeen, had no distinguishing marks, but wore a gold chain around his neck and has three fingers on his left hand, possibly a birth defect. If anyone has information about this case, please contact the LAPD hotline, or the LA Medical Examiner’s Office.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“You think it’s her friend,” Lucky said.

“Why would the gang kill one of their own? Family?”

“Betrayal. Or it wasn’t the G-5 gang.”

“Rivals? War? This is why I never worked the gang task force.”

Lucky got up and stared at his bookshelf near the front door. He frowned. “Something’s missing.” He walked over and looked under papers. “My .22.”

Jake saw five guns of all makes and models in his line of sight, without turning his head. “You sure?” said, stepping into the room">
“ma

“It was right here on the bookshelf.”

Jake glanced down the hall. Angel had gone to the bedroom an hour ago. He walked down the hall, knocked on the door. No answer. Opened it.

The window was open. Angel was gone.

Chapter Nine

Angel had slipped out through the sliding glass door in Lucky’s bedroom, next to the room where she’d been resting and quickly walked away from the house, in case Jake was watching from the front window.

Leaving Lucky’s house was the hardest decision Angel had made in the last week. Everything else she seemed to just
know
. She knew she had to go to the police about Raul Garcia. She knew she had to run when she was being shot at. But for the first time since this entire ordeal began, she’d felt almost safe with Jake.

Except he didn’t trust her.

She couldn’t blame him, but it hurt. Eavesdropping on his conversation with Lucky made her feel like shit, but she had to know what was going on. He thought she was holding back, and just because he said he’d protect her didn’t mean that he could. And then he was thinking about calling the cops. She didn’t care if this guy was a friend of his, the police scanner said she was a wanted fugitive. They thought
she
was part of the gang that killed a cop. She knew how bad this was, that if LAPD thought she was a cop killer, she wasn’t going to be given much chance to explain.

And what if she got Jake killed? There was too much at stake. Angel didn’t trust anyone, G-5 or the cops. She just didn’t know what or who to believe.

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