Monsters Matt Rogers (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📖

‘Better hope you’ve got enough protection on your commute.’

‘Of course I do.’

‘We’ll see. Now go call the head Russian and tell him that you got all his men killed.’

She hung up.

She’d memorised Mary’s number the night before so she dialled it into the henchman’s phone, listened to it ring and ring. Then she tried Slater.

Nothing.

38

Sure enough, the cops had reached the limit of their patience, and Slater watched King step back as the passenger door was forced open against him in the officer’s haste to get out.

By then, Slater and Mary were halfway down the stairs, and they came out into the central stretch of concrete as the two cops skirted round King and strode across the street. They must’ve been concerned by their brief look at Mary.

They made a beeline past the pool area. Slater made himself look concerned, and flooded his eyes with relief like he was happy to see them. He looped an arm around Mary’s lower back and rested his palm on her hip. She didn’t flinch or lean away. She was a fast learner. Maybe she was like Alexis in more than just looks.

She even leant into him, rested her cheek against his shoulder, like he was her place of refuge in this mad world.

He could tell the cops bought it immediately because they didn’t approach with hostility. They stopped a couple of feet from them, looked Slater and Mary up and down. One of them said, ‘Where’d your friends go?’

Slater gave a vigorous head shake, his lips pursed. ‘Not our friends, brother. They surrounded her when she came out of the room. Lucky I wasn’t far behind.’

The other cop off-handedly said, ‘Which room y’all in?’

‘Twelve,’ Slater said without any hesitation, remembering the number on the door. It’d only be a big deal if he made it seem like a big deal.

The first cop said, ‘Where’d they go?’

‘Ran off when they saw you guys pull up. Down the stairs and down that passageway that leads to the back. Might’ve even scaled a fence, I don’t know…’

They side-eyed each other.

Slater said, ‘One of ’em had a piece.’

The first cop stiffened. ‘Did he pull it?’

‘I didn’t get a good look. If I had to guess, it was a HK45. That’s a serious piece for these parts.’

The second cop said, ‘You know a lot about that?’

‘I’m ex-military.’

Instantly their guards came down. The first guy said, ‘Got it. We’ll check it out. Glad you two are okay.’

He looked pointedly at Mary, who hadn’t yet commented.

She nestled in closer to Slater. ‘Me too. That wasn’t fun.’

They nodded, satisfied, and hustled back to their car. King stood on the sidewalk, putting on a dejected act like he hadn’t succeeded in making new friends, and they ignored him as they climbed back in and pulled out to scope the next street for signs of the unsavoury trio.

Slater stepped away from her, took his hand off her hip. ‘You did great. They bought it.’

She gave him a deliberate look up and down, her head clearer now. ‘Wasn’t hard.’

He ignored that, pointed out King. ‘Go to him. I’ll be there in a minute. There’s something I need to do.’

She didn’t ask questions, probably just grateful to be alive. He waited until she was halfway across the street, weaving through traffic, then he went straight to the front office. The door jangled as he stepped inside. Reception was gloomy and smelled faintly of rot and wet paint. A jowly and rotund man in his fifties sat behind the desk, rotating slowly left and right in a swivel chair. From there he had no line of sight to the first floor landing.

The guy hadn’t seen anything, but he didn’t like the look of the newcomer. Slater could only guess why. He pulled out the three clips of cash and placed them, one by one, on the desk.

The man blinked, bags sagging under his eyes. ‘What the hell?’

‘That’s over fifteen grand.’

Another blink. It might be a tic. ‘Okay.’

Slater said, ‘Room twelve needs a clean-up.’

‘Who are you?’

Slater ignored that. ‘Talking to anyone about what you see in there would be bad for business. I wouldn’t be happy about it. You don’t really know enough about me for the cops to find me before I hear that you’re a snitch. And if I hear that, I’ll come back for a refund. You got all that?’

Several blinks in a row. ‘Just a refund?’

‘I told you I won’t be happy.’

The guy took the cash. ‘Okay. I got it.’

‘You know people? There might be some heavy lifting involved.’

‘Yeah,’ the guy grumbled. ‘I know people.’

Slater nodded. If he loitered to clarify anything, he might seem too desperate, so he turned around and walked out before the owner could get a better look at him.

He got back in the rental car beside the black van, reversed out, and picked King and Mary up from the other side of the street. So it didn’t feel like she was a prisoner, King ushered Mary into the passenger seat, and he got in the back. Slater drove away fast, but not fast enough to arouse suspicion. The last thing he wanted was to be pulled over for breaking the speed limit.

Mary twisted in her seat to study King, then turned to look at Slater. ‘You’re both friends of Alexis?’

She had to be sure.

He understood.

Slater nodded. ‘I’m her partner. Jason’s a family friend.’

Mary twitched. Looked back at King. ‘You just told me your name was Phil.’

King shrugged.

Slater said to King, ‘I think we’re past that.’

‘I guess we are.’

Mary’s breathing started to quicken as the gravity of what had happened set in. It wasn’t a dream anymore. It was crystallising into traumatic memory. She’d be wondering, What if? for weeks, months, maybe years. That sort of thing isn’t easily suppressed.

When they were out of the Mission she said, ‘Did you kill those people?’

Slater didn’t answer.

39

They all converged in St. Francis, a neighbourhood in Daly City just south of San Francisco.

It was far closer to the