Page 50 of Lay Me Down
“Fuck!” Zeke yells and practically jumps out of the car. I try to do the same, but this little belly makes it kind of difficult, and I’m already a solid few seconds behind Zeke. I keep the door ajar and let Daisy land beside me before I focus back again. Zeketakes off just as John is exiting the front of the house, and I have half a mind to chase after the man as well, but he’s so fast that I’ll never catch him.
I know who can, though.
As Daisy’s fur rubs against my leg, a lightbulb explodes in my head. I frantically reach for my keys and pull out the laser pointer Darnell gave me. When he insisted on keeping it on me at all times, I didn’t really understand why. Now, I do. I point the laser at the man’s back as quickly as I can, and before I can even speak, I hear Daisy growl—obviously ready for the action.
“Daisy! Engage!” I command her. She takes off like a rocket and zooms past Zeke in a matter of a second. I’ve seen dog shows and ‘Cops,’ but actually witnessing a monster like Daisy firsthand is astonishing. I mean, she was just drooling and begging for scratches twenty minutes ago. Now, it’s like she’s a different dog.
A snarl comes from her throat before she pounces, and then she jumps up and wraps her jaws around his side, towards the back, near where his kidney would be. The hardware dealer falls to the ground, and Daisy fully jumps onto his back, never unclenching her mouth. He screams and jerks from side to side, but I know that Daisy won’t let go of him until she’s told.
“Hell yeah, Ash!” Zeke yells as he runs up to them. I quicken my pace so I can catch up quickly, and John reaches them at the same time as I do.
“Shut up and get him inside. We don’t need to draw any more attention than we already have.”
“Daisy. Heel,” I demand. She finally releases him and moves away enough for John and Zeke to stand him back up. I kneel down to Daisy’s height and take in her happy face. Her tongue is hanging out of her mouth again, and I don’t even question it when some blood drips down with her drool. “You did so good, Daisy! You’re such a good girl,” I coo and scratch under her chin,letting her know she did exactly what she was supposed to do. She tilts her head to the side and closes her eyes like she was just playing fetch, and not about to rip someone’s organ out.
When they manage to drag the dealer closer to the house, I stand up and walk Daisy in the same direction. She patters along beside me as we catch up, prancing like this is just any walk in the park. Her cute little nails clink against the sidewalk, and she continues to look up at me as we step up to the entryway of the home, like she’s already about to beg for more scratches. After a quick look around to make sure no one saw what we just did, we all step inside. Well, the man getsthrownback inside, but it’s the same concept.
The moment I close the door, I instantly regret it. This house smellshorrible. It’s moldy and musty, and there’s a strong kick of body odor that could only come from the worn-down furniture. There are clothes, trash, and decaying food sprawled out everywhere, and it makes my stomach churn. I actually gag a little. John must see the look on my face, because he gives me a concerned glare before he whips around to face the man.
“I take it you weren’t expecting visitors, Marco?” John asks him.
“John!” Marco yells in a faux-joyous tone and throws his hands out in front of him. His stance screams excitement, but his face crinkles in fear. He clearly has an accent, and while it’s not Russian like I’ve heard before, I can’t quite make it out. “How good to see you, my old friend!”
“Do you run from all of your friends, or just John?” Zeke asks tauntingly as he starts to circle the man in slow steps. He smirks at Marco like he’s watching a comedic episode, and not like this guy is potentially dangerous.
“Oh! You thought I was running from you? No, no, no. I am training for a marathon next month. Yes! You know, it takes lots of work.Somuch work.” Marco swats his hand in the air,trying to play it off, and it might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. John just tilts his head and pulls a knife out of his pocket. “Whoa! Alright, alright. I see that you’re not in the mood for jokes. What can I do to keep you from using that on my face?”
“You can tell me what you know about DeLuca and Saconne. I’m not in the mood for lies, so you better not waste my time.” John steps forward, and Marco takes a step back, only to bump into Zeke. They crowd him like a couple of hungry lions, and Marco’s face pales.
“I swear, I don’t know anything about them anymore. I’m done with that chapter of my life,” Marco pleads. Zeke grips him by the shoulders and leads him over to a small pullout table, and forcefully shoves him into the nearby chair, making him yelp. “John. Please. I don’t want any trouble.” He holds his hands up, continuing to beg, but Zeke then holds one of his arms down on the wooden surface.
“My son is missing, and you don’t want trouble?” John then raises the knife and slams it down onto Marco’s palm. I grimace. That sight mixed with the smells might actually make me sick. He screams and whimpers as he watches the blood start to pour from his hand, but surprisingly, he doesn’t try to pull it away—like he’s gone through this before. “I said, tell me what you know about them!” John screams in his face, and Zeke pulls his own knife out before sliding the blade between Marco’s lips.
“Maybe your mouth isn’t big enough to tell the truth.”
“Okay, okay! Just hold on a second!” Marco mumbles around the knife, and Zeke slowly drags the blade back out. It causes a tiny cut just in the corner, and a couple drops of blood drip onto his chin as he pulls it away. John grabs the top of his head and grips his hair strands so tightly that he shakes. “I truly wasn’t selling anymore. I swear it. That life forced me out long ago—until last month.”
“What happened then?” I ask and step up, finally deciding to ask some questions myself. Marco jerks his gaze to me, and John releases his grip on the knife. It remains lodged in his hand and keeps him in place, though.
“I got a call from a man demanding to place an order with me, but I refused. I told him the same thing I’m telling you now, that I was out of commission and couldn’t help him. The next night, someone broke into the apartment I had at the time. It was one ofthem;I knew it. He didn’t say anything, but he made it clear that I had messed up somehow. I was beaten so badly that I didn’t wake up until the next morning, and even then, I could barely speak or see. When I awoke, there was only a card with a number and a message that said ‘place the order.’”
“What did this man look like?”
“He had the tattoo, if that’s what you want to know. It was on his neck, just like the old ones used to have. He seemed older, though. About our age,” Marco tells John. “He might even be one of the numbers.”
“The numbers?” I ask John, but he’s so enraptured by what Marco is saying that he doesn’t hear me.
“What happened when you got everything they needed?”
“I tried to call and tell them that I had it ready for them, but there was no answer. The anticipation almost killed me while I waited all day and night, then the day after that, I was ambushed. They shot me up with something that put me to sleep, and when I awoke again, it was all gone. I swear it, John. That’s all that happened. I didn’t even get paid for it.”
Zeke looks up at John, and we both notice the flush on his face. It’s clear that John believes him, but this doesn’t help us at all. Unless John is willing to share more with us about his past with the Italians, we won’t find any useful information from Marco.
“What number did you dial?”
“The card is in the top drawer of the dresser,” Marco directs. I turn and walk with Daisy into the bedroom, then search for the card. It’s easy enough to find, and thank God for that, because this room smells even worse than the previous one. He did say he had an apartment a month ago, and while there’s a possibility all of this is his, I’m hoping he’s just hiding out here. As I walk back out to join them, I pull out my phone.
“Should I call it?” I ask them.
