Final Target Read online

Joanne nodded. “Well, there you go.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She giggled a little. “At least now you get to make your daily visit there.”

  Lanny was sitting in the same corner booth as always when visiting Lucky’s, so it didn’t take Paden long to find him and on his way over he signaled to Stan behind the bar to bring them their usual drinks. He then sat opposite Lanny. “What’s up?”

  Lanny looked at his wristwatch. “I need you to drop something off for me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I got this bag that needs delivering is what I mean.”

  “And you can’t do it yourself?”

  Stan brought them their drinks: a beer for Paden and a Seven and Seven for Lanny. After Stan left, Paden realized he’d never got the other two beers from the girl at the other place. He wondered whether he’d pissed off the girl or not, and he wondered what she did with those next beers. That’s all he needed was to have tasted a big loogie in his beer.

  Lanny took a sip. “I could, but I got some other shit I need to take care of this afternoon.”

  Paden was about to take a drink of his beer when he thought better of it since he’d be heading out for this job soon. “I just drop off the bag? Do I give it to someone or just leave it?” It all sounded fishy to him, but he was sure it was a paid job and with what Joanne just told him he could use the extra money. He nodded. “Yeah. Fuck it. I’ll do it. I’m getting paid for this, right?”

  “Yeah. How’s three grand sound?”

  Paden nodded because this was pretty generous for a couple hours of work. “Three grand just to drop off a bag to someone?”

  “Yeah. And there’s no need to look in the bag, okay?”

  Paden chuckled. “I wasn’t gonna. For that kind of money just to drop it off, it’s none my business.”

  “Good.” Lanny reached under the table and produced a gym bag. “Take this to the Target in the Heights. There’ll be a Red Silverado parked in one of the handicapped spots.”

  “Red Silverado. Got it.” Paden grabbed the bag. “Is this person handicapped?”

  “How the fuck should I know? What difference does it make anyway?”

  “It doesn’t. I just hate when people who aren’t handicapped park in those spaces.”

  Lanny shook his head. “I don’t actually know really. I just need you to do this. Guy in the truck is named Gordon something or something Gordon.”

  “Gordon in the Red Silverado. And he may or may not be handicapped. At the Target in the Heights. What time?”

  “Two.”

  “Two. And I get three grand for this?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good. I could use it. Joanne just told me she’s pregnant.”

  Lanny laughed a little. “Ain’t you a little old to start having kids?”

  “Probably. Maybe. Who knows? Might be just the thing I need to fix the shit in my life, you know? Give me some kind of purpose. What do you think?”

  Lanny shrugged and shook his head. “I got six kids, man, and they all fucking can’t stand me.”

  “Yeah. Well, can you blame them?”

  “Not at all.” Lanny finished his drink. “Good luck with the kid thing.”

  “Yeah. Thanks, man.” Paden stood up with the bag. “I better get going. It’ll be two soon.”

  “Just don’t look in the bag, okay?”

  “You’ve mentioned that already. Why?”

  “I hear bad things happen to those who look inside bags that have to do with Sean Brady.”

  “This is for Sean Brady?

  “Apparently. Change your mind?”

  Paden looked at the bag and shook his head. “No. Not for this kind of money. I’ll give you a holler when it’s done.”

  3.

  Davy Carlyle’s job was simple: kill whoever was in the truck. If more than one person was in the truck, he was to kill everyone. Shoot them all dead, call Big John to say the job was done and get his payment location. Simple. He could do that. This wouldn’t be the first time the button was pushed and he got the call to put someone down. He’d been doing hits since he was thirteen.

  Davy sat in his multi-colored, piece of shit Toyota Camry he bought with money he’d saved as a kid from various jobs. He drove it seldom these days except when he was called to take someone out. It was like his good luck charm of sorts.

  He brought his little brother, Orrin. Orrin was bored. He’d talked Davy into letting him ride along and drop him off for the latest Marvel movie playing at the movie theater on the way to work. They hadn’t hung out with each other for some time and seeing a movie was their usual outing, so Davy agreed to take him to the movie with the promise they would see one together soon. His shift at the store started in a couple of hours and he had to take care of this business first. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought Orrin along on a hit. Orrin never asked what Davy was doing and Davy made sure his brother never saw him work.

  Orrin sat in the passenger seat playing a round of Fortnite on his phone, oblivious to what was going on outside. He was just bored. “How much longer are we gonna sit here?”

  Davy checked his watch. It was one fifty-five. “Few more minutes. Guy said not until two.” He looked over at his brother and couldn’t help but notice that the older Orrin got the more they looked alike. Both were a hair above six feet. Davy had more of a solid, muscular build and kept his blonde hair short where Davy had potential to be muscular, but he never really got into any kind of sports in school. His blonde hair was long and usually in his face. Both had their father’s blue eyes and long face. Both inherited their mother’s ears that looked like little taxi doors that were open. Davy didn’t care as much as Orrin, which was one reason he kept his hair long.

  Orrin put his phone and game down. “The movie starts at two forty-five and we still gotta drive across town. You know traffic can be a bitch sometimes.”

  “Relax. You won’t miss the movie.” He looked out into the parking to see if his target was still parked in his Silverado. He was. “This movie got Scarlett Johannsen in it?”

  “Yeah. I think so. Why?”

  Davy shook his head. “I’d love to run into her one of these days, man.”

  “Pfft. And do what? Choke trying to talk to her? You wouldn’t have the balls to say anything to her. Besides, she’s dating some guy from Saturday Night Live.”

  “O, ye of little faith, little brother.”

  Davy’s watch read two o’clock. He saw at least twenty people coming in and out of the Target store. “There’s a lot of people here.”

  Orrin looked up from his game. “Yeah. What is it you were supposed to do again?”

  “None of your business. Just play your game.” Davy reached from under his seat and pulled out his .380 pistol, concealing it so Orrin wouldn’t see it. “Just stay here.”

  Davy exited his car keeping the pistol close to his side. He looked around and quickly chambered a round. He was five vehicles from the Silverado when he saw another man making his way towards the truck. “Who the fuck is this?” he asked himself out loud. The other guy was tall. A couple inches taller than Davy’s six feet. Dude was probably close to six three, in fact, and looked familiar, but Davy’s mind was too preoccupied with the task at hand to try and think of where he’d seen the guy before. The guy was carrying one of those small gym bags and it looked full. They were both walking at the same pace and would likely get to the truck at the same time.

  A van came out of nowhere and pulled in front of the truck. It was facing the direction which allowed the sliding door to open facing the front of the truck. Inside the door, were two men wearing masks that reminded Davy of Skeletor from the old He-Man cartoons. Each held a machine gun. Davy couldn’t quite tell what kind, but before he thought too long on it the men opened fire on the Silverado. Davy hit the ground and thought about running back to his car to be with Orrin. He knew, though, that if he stood, he could be hit by a stray bullet.

  The shootin
g went on for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only twenty or thirty seconds. During the lull and what Davy hoped was the end of the shooting, he looked towards the truck and saw the other guy was also on the ground. Davy risked a better view and began to stand and as he did, he saw the two guys in the van lob two grenades into the shot up window of the truck, speed away, and a few seconds later the grenades exploded.

  Davy stood all the way seeing people fleeing from the scene. He looked back at his car and could see Orrin standing next to it. “Get back in the fucking car!” Orrin did as he was told and Davy hurried to the blazing truck. The other guy did the same.

  The other guy was still carrying the gym bag, but was also trying to get a look inside the cab of the truck. “Fuck. Those two in there are goners.”

  Davy tucked his pistol behind his back in his pants. “That van came out of nowhere.”

  “I’m sure the cops will be here any minute. You know these guys?”

  “Not really. You?”

  “No. I was just dropping something off to them.” The guy held up the bag.

  Davy figured it was best he didn’t tell this guy he was there to kill whoever was in the truck. Then it struck him that he could’ve been killed and probably wasn’t going to get paid now. He wondered what was in the bag and hoped it was money. “I was here to take that bag once the exchange was made.” He could tell the guy was skeptical. “Look. You probably don’t believe me. I wouldn’t either, but I got a call this morning that a guy was gonna be sitting in a handicapped spot in the Target parking lot in the Heights and I was to pick something up from him that he was getting from someone else. You have to be that someone else, right?

  “Did you get a name?”

  “Yeah. Gordon something or something Gordon.”

  “That’s all I got, too.” They both turned to look where they began to hear sirens.

  Davy pointed with his head in the sirens’ direction. “They’re getting closer. I’m gonna need that bag.”

  The guy looked at the bag and looked around. “I think there’s money in here. Feels like it anyway. We don’t have time to look now. You know that empty lot of the old K-Mart? My name is Paden Evans. Meet me there in fifteen minutes.” He took off in a sprint to the other end of the parking lot.

  The sirens grew louder and Davy hustled back to his car where he found Orrin shaking. “Th’fuck happened, Davy?”

  “I dunno, but we need to get the hell out of here.” Davy put the car in gear and took off hoping this Paden guy was legit.

  There were a few vehicles in the empty K-Mart parking lot, but like the parking lot, the vehicles were empty. Davy had been parked for nearly twenty minutes and was beginning to wonder if this Paden guy was going to show. Orrin fell asleep in the passenger seat with his face resting on the window. There was no way he was going to make the movie now.

  “Paden,” Davy said under his breath. He wondered why that name sounded familiar. It certainly was unusual, but he swore he knew it from somewhere.

  While he sat pondering where he knew Paden from, a black Chevy Tahoe made its way around the parking lot. It parked not far from Davy and flickered its headlights three times. Davy and Paden never discussed any signal, but he opened his door and began to step out. Orrin heard the door open and turned to Davy. “What’s going on?”

  Davy chin-pointed towards the Tahoe. “I think that’s the guy. Stay here. Don’t even think about leaving this fucking car this time. Anything happens to me, you slide in over to this side and haul ass from here. Got that?”

  Orrin nodded. “Yeah.”

  As he did at the Target parking lot, Davy readied his pistol at his side and slowly made his way to the Tahoe. The windows were tinted so it was a little difficult for him to see who was inside. When he was about thirty feet from the vehicle, the driver side window lowered and a head popped out. It was Paden. “I had to make sure I wasn’t followed or else I would’ve been here sooner.” He waved Davy over. “C’mon. Have a seat inside.”

  Davy gave him a glimpse of the pistol in his hand. “I don’t know, man.”

  “Not very trusting, are you?”

  “Where I come from, the less people you trust, the longer you live.”

  “I hear you there. Listen. Would I have given you my full name if I didn’t want you to trust me?”

  Davy shrugged. “Maybe. What kind of name is that anyway? Paden? Or was it Payton?”

  Paden smiled. “I get that a lot. It’s Paden. Like maiden, but spelled P-A-D-E-N.”

  Davy tucked his pistol behind his back again and nodded. “Paden.” He then climbed into the passenger seat of the Tahoe. The vehicle smelled fruity and he realized it must’ve been from the little smelly tree hanging from the rearview mirror. The Tahoe was fairly clean otherwise and Paden had Chris Stapleton playing on the stereo. “I’m Davy Carlyle.” He stuck out his hand for Paden to shake. “Nice ride.”

  Paden shook Davy’s hand and turned down the music. “Thanks.”

  “So, we were at Target for similar reasons?”

  “Seems like it. I was dropping something off and Gordon was giving it to you. Where was the bag ending up afterwards?”

  Davy couldn’t tell Paden his real reason for being there. He just hoped he could think of something believable. “I actually don’t know. I was supposed to pick it up, take it to the bus station, and leave it under a bench. I was supposed walk away from it, but stick around to make sure it got picked up.”

  “What was Gordon’s role in all of this?”

  Davy hoped there was money in the bag. “He supposedly had money with him to pay me. The guy who sent me said it was gonna come out of what was in the bag there.” He pointed to the bag in the seat behind Paden.

  “I’m assuming that was Gordon in the truck.”

  “Same. I don’t know who was with him though.”

  “I don’t know either.” Paden reached for the bag behind him and pulled it up to the front with him.

  “Thought you would know, though, seeing as how you were dropping the bag off with them. What’s in the bag anyway?”

  “I dunno. I never looked inside. I wasn’t paid to look inside.”

  “Wanna look inside?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I heard bad things happen to those who look inside packages dealing with Sean Brady.”

  “Yeah. I heard that, too. I won’t tell if you don’t. I mean I don’t plan on seeing you ever again after this.”

  Paden sat for a moment thinking it over. “You got a point.” He began to open the bag. Inside were bundles of fifty- and one hundred-dollar bills. After a quick count, Paden pointed to the inside of the bag. “There’s two hundred thousand dollars in here.”

  “Holy shit.”

  They both sat in silence for a few minutes. It was Davy who broke it. “Listen. Gordon’s dead. Whoever killed him didn’t try for you or me. They probably don’t give a shit about this money. You tell your guy he had the money when everything went tits up and I tell my guy that it was all over before I got there. The money was either taken or blown up, but neither of us left the parking lot with the money. We stick to that story and split this shit.”

  “Split it and then what?”

  “I go my way and you go yours. We never met and we sure as hell don’t ever see each other again.”

  “You think people will be looking for the money?”

  “Probably, but I’m gonzo. I’m outta here. I just gotta square away some things. You should do the same.” Davy pointed to the bag. “Hundred K, man. I know I could use it and I have a feeling you could too.”

  “And we don’t see each other again?”

  “That’s right.”

  Paden reached into his backseat area again and Davy put his hand on his pistol. He let go of it when Paden produced a couple of plastic grocery bags. He then counted out Davy’s half and put the bundles in the bag and then double-bagged it. He handed the makeshift package to Davy. “Good luck.”

>   “You, too.” Davy grabbed the bags and exited the Tahoe and hurried to his car. The engine was still running and he soon peeled out of the parking lot one hundred thousand dollars richer.

  4.

  Detective Joe Thompson was in the middle of his lunch date with his wife, Darcy, when he received the text message about a shooting and explosion at the Target in the Heights. Normally, the call wouldn’t have pissed him off, but he and Darcy needed this lunch. They both had been working long hours, her as a reporter for the local news and him a police detective with the Wilson Police Department, and over the last couple of weeks they began scheduling in more time alone. It was a suggestion given to them during their one trip to a therapist. Things weren’t bad in their marriage though. They just wanted to try and work on some things before it was too late.

  The text message was from Joe’s partner, Nelson Jacobs. Joe held up his phone to show Darcy. “It’s Nelson. I better give him a holler back.”

  “You know if you weren’t a cop, I’d probably be mad.”

  Joe smiled and hit the speed dial button for his partner’s phone. Jacobs answered after two rings. “Your ass on its way here?”

  “Soon, Papa Bear. Our food hasn’t even arrived yet?”

  “Well, fucking scarf it down when it does. We got a shit show up here in the Heights. Someone shot up a truck and the two people sitting in the cab and then to make shit worse, they fuckin’ threw a grenade into the truck and blew the shit out of it.” Jacobs’ colorful language was something that Joe held in great affection.

  The waitress made her way to their table with his and Darcy’s food. “Damn. Ok. Listen our food just got here. I’ll be there ASAP.”

  “You better.”

  Joe put away his phone. “I need to get going, babe.”

  Darcy gave him the “You serious?” look. “Right now? Can’t Nelson handle it for a bit? Our food just got here. Besides, you told him you’d hurry.”

  Joe looked at his watch and did the math in his head. It was an almost fifteen-minute drive to the Target and probably ten to fifteen minutes for him to eat if he took his time. “You got a point. He’ll probably pass the grunt work on to me anyway.”