Moonlight Mile Part 27

"Pretty soon, one of Kirill's guys-Pavel; I think you two met-he comes to me and says I should apply for a job opening at the Department of Children and Families. Turns out they got a guy in HR working off his own debt. So I apply and he waives the CORI check, and I get the job that I'm eminently overqualified for. A few weeks later, after a particularly attractive fourteen-year-old pregnant girl leaves my office, my phone rings and they tell me I have to present her with an offer."

"What do you get per baby?" Angie's voice was weary with contempt.

"One thousand off my debt."

"So you've got to get them five hundred and twenty-six babies before you're off the hook?"

He gave that a resigned nod.

"How close are you?"

"Not close enough."

My phone vibrated again. I looked at it. Same number. I put it back in my pocket.

My wife said, "You know even if you got them five hundred and twenty-six babies to sell on the black market ..."

He finished the sentence. "They'll never be done with me."

"No."

My cell vibrated a third time. I had a text message. I flipped the phone open.

Hey guy. Anser your f.u.c.king phone. Sincerely Yefim.

Dre took another hit from his flask. "You're like a fifteen-year-old girl with that thing."

"Yeah, well, you'd know all about that."

My phone rang again. I got off the couch and walked out to the front porch. Amanda was right-from here, you could hear the brook gurgle.

"h.e.l.lo."

"h.e.l.lo, my good guy. What you do with the Hummer?"

"I drove it over to the stadium and left it there."

"Ha. That's a good one. Maybe I see Belichick driving it one day in his hoodie."

In spite of myself, I smiled.

"What's up, Yefim?"

"Where you at, my friend?"

"Around. Why?"

"I thought maybe we could talk. Maybe we could help each other out here."

"How'd you get my phone number?"

He laughed, a deep, long belly chuckle. "You know what day it is?"

"It's Thursday."

"It is Thursday, yes, my friend. And Friday is a big day."

"Because you wanted Kenny and Helene to find you something by Friday."

I could hear the snort through the phone. "Kenny and Helene couldn't find a chicken in the chicken soup, my man. But you? I look in your eyes after I shoot that f.a.ggot car and I see you're afraid-you'd be one icy f.u.c.ker if you weren't-but I also see you're curious. You sitting there thinking, If this crazy Mordovian don't pull this trigger, I've got to know why he points it at me in the first place. I see that in your eyes, man. I see it. You a type."

"Yeah, what type?"

"The type keep coming. What's that saying about size of the dog?"

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's-"

"The size of the fight in the little dog. Yeah."

"Close enough."

"So, I've got to figure you already know where this crazy Amanda is."

"What makes you think she's crazy?"

"She stole from us. That makes her f.u.c.king cuckoo clock, man. And if you don't know where she is, I bet a bag of mice you're close."

"A bag of mice?"

"Old Mordovian expression."

"Ah."

"So where's she at, my friend?"

"Let me ask you something first."

"Shoot straight away."

"What does she have that you want so bad?"

"You playing with me, guy?"

"No."

"Making fun of Yefim?"

"Definitely not."

"Then why you ask such a a.s.shole-stupid question like that? You know what we want."

"I honestly do not. I know you want Amanda and I know-"

"We don't want Amanda, man. We want what she took. Kirill looks bad, man. He looks like he can't find one little girl stole his property? The Chechens up the block? They're starting to laugh, guy. We probably have to kill a few just to close their mouths, not have to look at their rotting f.u.c.king teeth."

"So, what-?"

"The f.u.c.king baby! And the f.u.c.king cross! I need both. If that stupid card-junkie piece-of-s.h.i.t doctor goes back to work and can find me another baby, I'll give that one to Kirill, he won't know the difference. But if I don't have that cross and some some baby by this weekend? It's going to be a f.u.c.king bloodbath, guy." baby by this weekend? It's going to be a f.u.c.king bloodbath, guy."

"And you'll give me Sophie in exchange?"

"No, I won't f.u.c.king give you Sophie. We're not let's-make-it-a-deal here. Yefim say he wants the baby and the cross, you bring me the baby and the cross. Otherwise, they sell this soup in the little towns along the Black Sea? Only get it in these little towns. It comes in a red can. Parts of you will be in those cans. Parts of your family too, guy."

Neither of us said anything for a minute. The heel of my hand had turned dark red from clenching the phone and my pinkie had gone numb.

"You still there, my main man?"

"Go f.u.c.k yourself, Yefim."

He gave that a low, soft laugh. "No. I f.u.c.k you, man. I f.u.c.k you and your wife and your little girl in Savannah."

I looked out on the road. The tar was very black. It matched the tree trunks by the church. The clouds had dropped down the mountain and hovered just above the telephone wires that stretched the length of the road. The air was damp.

"You don't think we watch you?" Yefim said. "You don't think we have friends in Savannah? We have friends everywhere, guy. And, yeah, you got that big crazy Polack protecting your little girl so we lose a couple of guys taking them out. But that's okay-we get more guys."

I stood on the porch looking out on the road. When I spoke, the words came out clipped and harder than I intended. "Tell me about this cross."

"The cross," Yefim said, "is the Belarus Cross. It go back a thousand years, man. Some people call it the Varangian Cross, other people, they call it the Yaroslav Cross, but I always like Belarus Cross. No price on this thing, man. Prince Yaroslav, he pay the Varangians with this cross to kill his brother Boris in the unification war back in, like, 1010 or 1011. But then he miss the cross so much, after he become ruler of all Kievan Rus, he send some other Varangians against the first Varangians, and they kill them, bring the cross back to him. It was in the czar's pocket back in '17 when they put him against that bas.e.m.e.nt wall and, boom, boom, blow his brains out. Trotsky had it in Mexico with him when they ice-axed his head. That cross get around, man. Now Kirill get it, and he's showing it off at party on Sat.u.r.day. All the big fish be there, man. Real gangsta. And he need that cross." blow his brains out. Trotsky had it in Mexico with him when they ice-axed his head. That cross get around, man. Now Kirill get it, and he's showing it off at party on Sat.u.r.day. All the big fish be there, man. Real gangsta. And he need that cross."

I finally trusted myself to speak. "And you think-"

"No think. I know. That little girl has it. Or that f.u.c.king card-junkie doctor. Oh, you tell him to get back to work. You tell him we need him so much we won't take a finger. We take a toe. He don't need a toe as much and he need his finger. So, yeah, he'll limp. People limp. Get me that cross, get me that baby, man. I'll-"

"No deal."

"I just told-"

"I know what you just told me, you f.u.c.king hump. You threaten my wife? You threaten my daughter? One thing happens to them, or my friend calls and says he saw one of you Stallone-in-Nighthawks-looking motherf.u.c.kers at the strip mall? I'll burn your whole f.u.c.king organization to the ground. I'll-"

He was laughing so hard I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

"Ho-kay," he said finally, still chugging out a trail of soft giggles. "Ho-okay, Meester Kenzie. You funny guy, my main friend. Funny, funny guy. You know where my cross is?"

"I might. You know where Sophie is?"

"Not anymore, but I can find her plenty fast." He chuckled again. "Where you come up with 'hump,' man? I never hear that."

"I don't know," I said. "Old tape, I guess."

"I like it. I can use it?"

"Help yourself."

"Say to some guy, 'You pay me money or else, you, you hump.' Ha."

"All yours."

"I find Sophie. You find cross. I'll call you later."

He laughed once more and hung up.

I was still shaking when I got back into the house, the adrenaline swirling at the base of my skull so badly I got a headache.

"Tell me about the Belarus Cross."

Dre looked like he'd hit the flask a few more times while I was out on the porch. Angie sat in the armchair closest to the hearth. She looked so small, for some reason, so lost. She gave me a look I couldn't quite read but it was pained, even forlorn. Amanda sat at the far end of the couch, a video baby-monitor on the end table beside her. She'd been reading Last Night at the Lobster Last Night at the Lobster and she put it on the coffee table, spine bent, and looked at me. and she put it on the coffee table, spine bent, and looked at me.

"Who were you talking to?"

"The Belarus Cross," I said.

"You were talking to a cross?"

"Amanda."

She shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about. The what?"

I didn't have time for this. Which left me with two options-threat or promise.

"They'll let you keep the baby."

She sat up. "What?"

"You heard me. If this genius over here"-I nodded at Dre-"can come up with another baby p.r.o.nto, they'll let you keep Claire."

She turned on the couch. "Can you?"

"It's possible."

"f.u.c.king Dre," she said, "can you or not?"

"I don't know. There's one girl who's close. I mean, she could be could be in early labor or it could just be false labor. With the equipment I have at my disposal, it's an inexact science." in early labor or it could just be false labor. With the equipment I have at my disposal, it's an inexact science."

Amanda's jaw clenched and unclenched. She used both hands to pull her hair behind her head. She slowly twirled it into a ponytail and took a band off the side table and tied it off.

"So you talked to Yefim."