“Biff… Cantor… and Ray Genaro! Oh God… I’m dyin’!”
“Not yet, Lance,” Nick told him, patting his face. “Where can we find Biff and Ray?”
“At… the Sea Breeze motel. Who…who are you people? How can you be doing these things? I’m just a lawyer hired to represent two defendants. I have to do my job.”
Nick grabbed Lance’s chin in his previously gloved hands. “We know what you are and what you’ve been doing. We checked. You’re a good lawyer, but your moral compass sucks. Here’s what will happen. You’re out of it. You got those two punks off. Stay the hell away from this now. If you call anyone to warn them or you have anything to do with mob business, we’ll be back. They won’t get us, but we will get you.”
Gus jammed a sleepy-time shot into Lance’s neck. “Did I tell you guys I hate lawyers?”
“Yeah. I think you’ve mentioned it a few dozen times, Payaso,” Nick replied. “So much so, Johnny and I are outlawing you from mentioning lawyers. You got burned one time in conjunction with the legal system and you’ve been raw for a decade. Make the sign of the cross and move on, brother.”
Even Gus chuckled at Nick’s reprimand. He shrugged. “I admit it. Lance will be out for a while. Should we tie and gag him too?”
“I’ll fix him for waking up in a weird place. You guys pick up everything and get the Cleaner into position in ten minutes. Don’t leave as a couple. Split up on returning to the Ford. Keep Cleaner moving around the block. I’ll be along shortly and meet you all out front.”
Gus and Johnny moved to do Nick’s bidding. Nick shouldered Lance and took him into his bedroom. Nick stripped him of everything but his underwear. He positioned Lance in a relaxed position on his bed, covers over him. He then gave Lance an eternity shot in between his left foot ‘this little piggy went to market and this little piggy stayed home’ toes. Nick checked over every moment the ‘Unholy Trio’ had been in the house. When satisfied, Nick watched for headlights from Gus’s Ford SUV to move slowly down the street in front of Lance’s house. He ran out and slipped inside the rear passenger compartment, holding the door closed until they were out of hearing from anyone on the street. Nick closed the door quietly then.
“Shit!”
Gus’s exclamation from the front seat drew an inquisitive glance from Cala. “What’s wrong, Gus.”
Gus did a thumb gesture backward at Nick with his left hand, never looking into the backseat. “Muerto killed the lawyer.”
Silence, multiplied by Nick’s neglect to refute Gus’s claim, confirmed it. At the first red light, Cala turned toward Nick. “Did you kill the lawyer, Muerto?”
“Drive, Cala,” Nick ordered. When the SUV was moving again, Nick spoke,” I couldn’t leave an unknown at our backs. He made his choice. I made mine. Sure… we could have all done barbeques and birthdays together but this is reality, kids. We leave no one at our backs to cause problems.”
“Did you at least give him last rites, Muerto,” Johnny asked.
It was many moments before any of them could speak, including Cala, who parked alongside of the road. She pointed at her husband accusingly between gasps of air. “You…you got that from Jess and Dev. I…I remember when they told us John Harding wanted to make the fighter called ‘Dragon Hands’ see Spongebob with a squeezing death grip in their match. Jess told Dev to give the Dark Lord an exorcism, and Dev complained because he had only recently memorized ‘Last Rites’. Very humorous, my husband.”
“That…that was good, Kabong,” Gus stuttered out.
“In answer to that,” Nick replied finally, “no, I didn’t. Like Dev… I don’t know last rites. I will learn it and the exorcism ritual for no other reason than pronouncing it over the Dark Lord when he goes astray.”
“I’ll learn it for you, Muerto,” Gus promised.
“May I remind you that I didn’t make a joke of lawyer Lance expiring? The moment I admitted to killing him… all there’s been is laughter. Cowboy up. We need to collect Biff and Ray. We need a decoy, Cala.”
Cala pumped her fist without looking away from the road. They were already headed toward the Sea Breeze motel. “Yes! Cala the Cleaner strikes again! I don’t have a uniform. Hey… I could approach like a hooker with bored expression. When they claim they didn’t ask for a hooker, I’ll pretend interest, claiming I’ll do anything not to make it a wasted trip.”
“Damn… that’s good, kid,” Nick said. “Chances are they won’t be around on a Saturday night. If they are, that ploy would work. We have your back but I will let Johnny have last word.”