Gin Palace 02 - The Bone Orchard

could push against than something that lifted him. He was a giant of a man.
    We were face to face then, closer than we had ever been. I saw that the crow’s feet around his eyes were dark furrows that wedged themselves into a line of ridges when he winced. I could feel his breath on my face. His arm remained around my neck till his footing was solid.
    “Get Augie out of here,” he said to me. “Stay away for a couple of days, at least.”
    “I can help you to your car.”
    He shook his head. “No. But there is one thing you can do for me.”
    “What?”
    “Load one of my guns.”
    I waited a minute, then said finally, “Which one?”
    “The Glock. It’s the lightest, and if I have to shoot, I’ll be shooting with my left. Load a few clips for me, if you can.”
    I went to the safe and looked for the Glock. It was resting on the top peg.
    “There are a pair of gloves by the cleaning kits. Put them on.”
    I put on the gloves, took down the Glock, then found three clips on the shelf, beside a box of armor piercing, police issue .45 caliber bullets. I loaded each clip and lay two of them together on the top shelf. The third clip I slapped into the Glock.
    There was no safety. I chambered the first bullet and lay the live gun on the shelf. I took off the gloves and stepped away and looked at the Chief. He nodded once in thanks. I wondered if that hurt him more than his busted elbow.
    “Give Augie and his daughter my best,” he said.
    I couldn’t help it then, my eyes drifted to the nearest intact photograph of Tommy. I didn’t know what to make of the Chief wishing well the girl his son had tried to rape. I realized then that this all started with the two of them, with Tina and Tommy, and an act of violence that beget another act of violence that left me vulnerable to the machinations of Frank Gannon. It seemed comforting to think it was all that simple, that the beginning was so easily pegged, that this madness could be boiled down to one night five months ago.
    But of course I knew better. This had started long ago, before I was born, when Frank killed his first man and buried him in his own private bone orchard.
    Before I reached the door the Chief said abruptly, “MacManus.” I stopped and turned. He didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked me up and down, that same skeptical, unsure look on his face. Or was it disgust I saw, or contempt, or loathing? I knew what it wasn’t – it wasn’t forgiveness.
    “You might soon learn something that’s going to tear up your insides,” he said. “When that happens … think of my boy. Do me that favor, at least.”
    Augie’s pickup was parked in his driveway, outside the garage. I pulled George’s Bug to the curb, left the keys in it, and got out in a hurry. The bag containing the gun was in my hand. I had locked the one containing my Spyderco knife in the glove compartment. I planned on ditching it in the Shinnecock Canal right after I brought Augie the prize that, I hoped, would win back his friendship.
    I rushed across the yard to the house and entered without knocking. Tina came out of the kitchen, alarmed by the sound of the crashing door. My excitement and my condition made me clumsy. I saw that she had a glass of beer in her hand.
    “Mac.”
    “Where’s Augie?” I said. I went to the hallway that lead from the living room down to the two bedrooms and Augie’s study.
    “He’s not here,” Tina said. I stopped and turned toward her. She seemed puzzled by my excitement. Tina looked down at the bag in my hand. “What is that?”
    “It’s the gun that belonged to the man Augie shot.”
    She took two long steps toward me. “What? Where’d you get it?”
    “It doesn’t matter. Where is he?”
    “He went out.”
    “Out where?”
    She shrugged. “They said something about the Indian Reservation.”
    “What?”
    “They said something about the Indian Reservation.”
    “They who?”
    “Frank and the other guy.”
    “What other guy?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before.”
    “Did he have a limp?”
    “What?”
    “Did he walk with a limp?”
    “I didn’t notice. Mac, what’s wrong?”
    “Why is Augie’s truck still here.”
    “They went in Frank’s car.”
    “How long ago?”
    “What’s going on?”
    “How long ago?”
    “Maybe a half hour. Mac? What’s going on?”
    I broke into a run down the hallway. I felt no pain. I went into Augie’s office and knelt in front of his safe and dialed the