Prayers For Rain Part 69

"Why would you kill me?"

I held out my arms, stepped close to him. "Gee, I dunno, Wes. You take everything from some guys, they just figure they got nothing to lose."

"Sure, Pat. Sure." He placed a hand to his chest. "But don't you think I'd have planned for contingencies like that?"

"You mean like hiring Stevie Zambuca to back me off?"

He dropped his eyes, looked at the bag in my hand.

"I presume Stevie's services are no longer at my disposal."

I tossed the bag between his feet. "That's about the size of it. By the way, he took out a two-grand aggravation fee for himself. These mob guys, Wes, you know what I'm saying?"

He shook his head. "Patrick, Patrick, I hope you understand that I've been speaking hypothetically. I bear no animosity toward you."

"Cool. Too bad I can't say the same thing, Wes."

He lowered his head until his chin touched his chest. "Patrick, trust me on this: You don't want to play chess with me."

I flicked the fingers of my right hand off his chin.

When he raised his head, the blithe cruelty in his eyes had been replaced by raw rage.

"Ah, yes, I do, Wes."

"Tell you what-take that money, Pat." His teeth were gritted, his face suddenly damp. "Take it and forget about me. I don't feel like dealing with you now."

"But I feel like dealing with you, Wes. A whole lot."

He laughed. "Take the money, buddy."

I met his laugh with my own. "I thought you could destroy me, pal. What's up with that?"

The sleepy malevolence zapped the blue in his eyes again. "I can, Pat. It's just a time issue at the moment."

"A time issue? Wes, buddy, I got plenty of time. I've cleared my decks for you."

Wesley's jaw tightened and he pursed his lips and nodded several times to himself.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

I glanced to my left, spotted a Honda sitting on the expressway, fifty yards off and a few feet above us, the hood up. The hazards blinked and cars beeped and honked and a few people threw the finger as Angie kept her head under the hood, fiddled with some cables, and shot pictures of me and Wesley from the camera sitting atop the oil filter cover.

Wesley raised his head and stuck out his gloved hand. Bright green homicide shone in his eyes.

"War?" he asked.

I shook his gloved hand. "War," I said. "You bet."

25.

"So where you parked, Wes?" I asked as we left the roof and descended the stairwell.

"Not in the garage, Pat. You're on six, I believe."

We reached the sixth-floor landing. Wesley stepped back from me a few feet. I leaned in the doorway.

"Your floor," he said.

"Yup."

"Thinking of trying to stick with me?"

"It crossed my mind, yeah, Wes."

He nodded, rubbed his chin, and parts of him moved with a sudden, blurry explosion of speed. One of his loafers connected with my jaw and knocked me back into the garage.

I scrambled to my feet between two cars, reached for my gun, and had it out of the holster and swinging around toward him when he exploded all over me again. It seemed like I took about six punches and six kicks in roughly four seconds, and my gun clattered across the garage and disappeared under a car.

"You frisked me on the roof because I allowed you to, Pat."

I hit my hands and knees and he booted me in the stomach.

"You're alive right now because I'm allowing it. But, I don't know-maybe I'm changing my mind."

He telegraphed the next kick. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his ankle flex and his foot leave the ground, and I took the kick in the ribs and held on to the ankle.

I heard the sound of a car approaching from the fifth level, moving up one ramp toward the next, a torn m.u.f.fler chugging loudly, and Wesley heard it, too.

He kicked me in the chest with his free foot, and I let go of his ankle.

Headlights arced against the wall at the bottom of the ramp.

"Be seeing you, Pat."

His footsteps clanged down the metal staircase, and I tried to get back on my feet, but my body decided to roll over and lie on its back instead as the approaching car screeched to a halt.

"Jesus," a woman said as she hopped out of the pa.s.senger side. "Oh, my G.o.d."

A guy stepped out of the driver's side, put his hand on the roof. "Buddy, you all right?"

I raised an index finger as the woman's feet approached. "One sec, okay?" I pulled my cell phone out and dialed Angie's cell phone.

"Yeah?"

"He should be exiting the garage any second. You see him?"