“Fuck that,” said Jack gruffly. “I don’t need your money. Besides, I’m not really that great. I actually stole your wallet.”

“What? Why? Oh, you’re joking,” replied Slater, giving a nervous smile.

“Does this look like a fuckin’ joke?” replied Jack, flipping open his jacket to reveal a pistol stuck in the front of his pants. “I did it to get you down here. Easier than taking you away from The Racquet Club.”

“But why?” stammered Slater as Jack put his hand on the pistol’s handgrip. “I haven’t done anything to you guys. I’m not even in any gangs or anything. Whoever you’re after … you’ve got the wrong guy!”

“No, we know we got the right guy, so shut up and listen. I know you’re a businessman, so let me try to put it into words you’ll understand. We distribute a product. You’re competition. You must have heard of a hostile takeover. Consider this it.”

“What product? I don’t understand!” cried Slater.

“A very white product,” said Jack, putting his thumbnail up to his nose and pretending to snort.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Slater.

Jack sighed and said, “Okay, I can see you’re not stupid. That’s good. Now I want you to take me for a little drive. I’ve got something to show you. It could actually save your life. You don’t want to end up like your buddy Earl.”

“That was you guys!” exclaimed Slater.

“Who the fuck did you think it was?”

“T-O’s guys,” blurted Slater. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“Who the fuck is T-O?”

“Oh, fuck …”

“I’m not asking you again,” yelled Jack. “Who the fuck is T-O?”

“Nobody I’ve met,” Slater hastened to say. “Just someone Earl owed money to.”

“Well, it wasn’t us who whacked Earl. We were going to offer him the same deal as you.”

“A deal? What deal? I don’t understand. If Earl was involved with you guys or something, I didn’t know anything about it. I’m just a businessman. I don’t —”

“Yeah, I know. Like I said, we’re businessmen, too. So start driving. I’ve got something to show you to convince you we know a little more than you think.”

“Can’t you just tell me? I mean —”

“It’s something you need to experience and see to believe. Don’t worry, if we were going to kill you, you would already be dead and this class-act set of wheels you got would already be on a freighter bound for Russia.”

chapter fifteen

The sun was going down and elongated shadows from the trees cast darkened silhouettes over mounds of dirt gouged out of a forest on the side of a mountain. For now, only the pits in the earth marked where the cement would be poured to make basements for a new residential pocket of homes.

It wasn’t the cold that caused Slater to shake as he parked beside the construction trailer.

“Get out,” ordered Jack. “What I got to show you is on the other side of the trailer.”

“I don’t like this,” whined Slater. “I feel really uncomfortable. Can’t we talk in the car?”

“Uncomfortable? See how uncomfortable you feel after a bullet rips through your kidneys!” roared Jack, pulling out his pistol.

Slater automatically lurched back, pressing himself so hard against the driver’s door it looked like he was moulded into it. His eyes closed and his face crinkled, expecting to be shot.

“Jesus, fuck! Stop acting like that,” said Jack. “If I wanted you dead, I’d shoot you now. I only want to talk to you. We’ve got a business proposition for you. Hand me the keys, too. I don’t want you trying to fuck off and leave me here.”

Slater opened his eyes and tried to calm himself as he fumbled the keys out of the ignition. As soon as he did, Jack snatched them out of his hand and said, “Now get out! I’m not tellin’ ya again!”

Slater got out of the car and tried to convince himself Jack only wanted to talk to him, but his fear increased dramatically when, a few minutes later, he found himself with Jack looking down at a dug-out basement.

“Climb down,” ordered Jack. “What I got to show you is alongside those footings on the far side.”

Slater squinted into the darkness, but all he could see were wooden frames filled with rebar left in preparation to pour cement. A nudge from the barrel of a pistol in his back convinced him not to argue. Once they had descended into the pit, Jack prodded Slater over to a waist-deep, grave-sized hole dug in the ground and said, “Get in!”

“You are going to kill me! You said you weren’t!” cried Slater.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jack, shoving Slater into the hole.

Slater landed on his feet with his arms draped over the far side of the grave. He spun around and pleaded, “Please, don’t. If you want money, I can get —”

“Sorry I lied about not killing you,” said Jack. “I’ve been known to do that sometimes. I know it’s a terrible habit, but I thought it was easier than dragging you.”

“Please … don’t …”

“Fuck, I knew it,” said Jack, “look at that. “Will you look at that?”

“What?” cried Slater.

“How tall are you?”

“What? I’m —”

“This hole ain’t nearly deep enough. I told the guys to dig it deeper. Jesus fuck, why is it if you want something done right, you’ve always gotta do it yourself?”

“Please! Listen to me. I can get my hands on a lot of money. Don’t kill me.”

Jack reached for a shovel stuck in the mound of dirt dug from the grave and tossed it into the hole beside Slater. “Tell ya what. You dig the hole deeper for me and then I promise to make it quick and clean. You won’t feel a thing. Otherwise I’ll gut shoot you and let you crawl around for half an hour while I dig. Then if ya haven’t already bled out, I’ll bury ya alive.”

“Oh, God, no!” cried Slater.

“Is it a deal?” asked Jack, trying to sound hopeful.

“Please, don’t!”

“Start digging. I’m going to talk to you about something. Maybe how you answer might make me change my mind.”

Slater picked up the shovel and started to dig. He believed he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. All hope was gone and his brain was going numb and shutting down to protect him from the horror he faced.

Jack’s cellphone rang. The call display told him it was Natasha. He could have ignored the call, but decided Slater needed more convincing and knew every minute the scenario dragged on would seem like an eternity to Slater.

“I’m going to take this call, don’t move,” ordered Jack.

Slater’s foot was poised in the air over the shovel and he literally did not move.

“Hi, what’s up?” asked Jack, stepping back to ensure Slater could not overhear his wife’s voice.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” asked Natasha.

“No, it’s not a bad time. I’m just standing around waiting for a guy.”

“I was just phoning to talk. I think Mikey is getting a cold. I might put the vaporizer in his room for tonight.”

“Did you say you want me to vaporize him or not?” asked Jack, knowing Slater could hear. “The phone keeps cutting out. If I lose your call I guess I’ll just do it.”

“No, I said I would do it,” said Natasha.

“Hello? Hello? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here, Jack. I can hear you fine.”

“Oh … I can hear you now.”

“Your voice sounds funny … is somebody there listening?”

“You got it.”

“I see. Can you give me any idea when you’re coming home?”

“I’ve still got a big pile of work to shovel through, but it shouldn’t take long.”

“With you, I don’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally,” replied Natasha.

Jack smiled to himself. He and Natasha had been through a lot together. More than a husband should ever ask of his wife.

As Jack talked, he stared at the man in the hole in front of him. He knew Slater did not need further convincing. He had gone into a catonic state. His foot was still poised in the air over the shovel.