Nada (8)

“I think I’m just gonna head home,” Ransom replied, “Jane will be wondering where I’ve been, I forgot to call.”

“Alright,” Joe said as they headed down the hill to Ransoms truck, “leave your bike here, we’ll ride on the weekend.”

“Sounds good,” Ransom said as he climbed into his truck and fired it up.

Pulling out of the drive, Ransom flipped open his phone and searched for the home number while driving with one hand and trying to put his seatbelt on. He gave up on the phone, realizing crashing would be a bad thing, and got the seat belt fastened. At the first stop sign, he found the number na dhit send. His normal drive home would take him straight through the stop sign, but he turned left so he could drive past the parking area. He and Joe had heard sirens but didn’t comment on them as they were building the wall. He had just achieved the 35MPH speed limit when the phone was picked up on the other end.

“Hey baby,” Jane said, the smile in her voice evident, “didja get lost?”

“Nope, we did a little work on the wall after the ride,” Ransom explained, “ and I forgot to call, sorry about that.”

“No problem, I knew who you were with,” Jane said, “on your way now?”

“yeah, be there in 20 minutes or so.”

“Just in time for dinner then,” Jane said, “I did chicken.”

“Great, I’m starved.”

They reaffirmed their love and each hung up about the time Ransom rounded the bend that concealed the parking area from the north. The lot was jammed with cars; marked and un-marked police cars, two ambulances, and a couple of trucks. There was no one directing traffic so there was no reason for Ransom to stop, but not slowing to rubberneck might set off an alarm in a more seasoned cop. He slowed, took note of the two zippered up body bags on gurneys behind each ambulance and flipped his phone open again.

Hitting the right name he began to accelerate around the southern bend that also hid the parking area. These two bends were the main reasons Mario had chosen the spot for the deal. It shocked Ransom that Luigi had accepted, it was more secluded than most Sicilians liked for their drug deals. The phone he had called was answered.

“yeah?”

“Nice shooting,” Ransom said.

“We almost didn’t make it out of there before your crazy buddy stuck his head up,” Craig said, sounding pissed, “Frank thought he was made switching out the goomba’s gun.”

“Joe didn’t say anything,” Ransom said, “I don’t think he would have crossed the street had he seen Frank.”

“Yeah, well, did ya get the stuff? We were too busy scramming to see how that played out.”

“Perfectly,” Ransom replied, “I told you I knew him. He grabbed a bag before I even suggested it, he thinks it was all his idea.”

“You better hope so,” Craig said, “did you put the money in the wall?”

“Yeah,” Ransom answered.

“Good. How about the coke?”

“He’s planning on dumping it in the creek tonight, until then it is in the pile of stones at the south-east corner of his house, under a couple of granite pieces.”

“How the f*&^ am I supposed to see granite in the dark?” Craig spit out.

“Just wait till he comes out to dispose of it,” Ransom said, “Then take care of it, take care of it all.”

With that he pushed the end button, held it so the phone would turn off, and turned up the radio. Not a bad day after all, he thought.