Tempted by Trouble by Eric Jerome Dickey Page A

Jacobs.
    Jackie went back inside the building first. The building that we were holed up inside was a dull edifice and all of its tenants were from south of the border. Thundering Spanish music shook the neighborhood as Jackie clicked the lights on and off three times. That meant everything was clear. She left the lights off after the signal was given.
    Jackie clicked a small table light on when I entered the apartment. The place looked as tacky and unorganized as when we had left. I stepped inside the cold apartment and turned on the wall heater, then I hunted for something to rub on my face, anything to alleviate the swelling. Outside of deodorant and Band-Aids, there wasn’t anything. I rubbed the stubble on my chin and that ached. The apartment was dark, but the neon lights of Koreatown yielded just enough colorful brilliance for me to be able to maneuver without needing additional illumination.
    Jackie was in the living room, her lips pursed as she shook her head. She was in a trance, staring down at the things Rick and Sammy had left behind.
    She cleared the pain from her throat, took a breath, and said, “Eddie Coyle called.”
    “When?”
    “When I was coming up the stairs. I told him to call back in a few minutes.”
    “He’s here in L.A.?”
    “He’s out of the country. There is another job coming up. He needs a crew.”
    “Now is not the time to think about another job.”
    “Court fees have drained me. Attorney fees have drained me. Now Sammy’s dead.”
    I took a breath. “I’m in dire straits too.”
    “You have a house. You don’t have any kids. What could you possibly need, Dmytryk?”
    “Right now I need about four thousand.”
    “Well, I need ten times that, at least. I need at least ten times that to pull off what I’m trying to do, or I’ll never get my kid back. Never,” Jackie snapped. “I need to figure out a way to get some more damn money. Sammy and Rick were in on this next job and now—”
    “Stay focused. You need to stay focused and I have to do the same.”
    “I am focused. I need to get my kid and get to South America, just like we had planned.”
    “Sure you want to do that? That might draw a lot of attention.”
    “Sammy told me I could get away with it, and I trusted Sammy with my life. He said that if a man kidnaps his child, it’s news. But if a woman takes the child she bore, you’ll never hear about it. My ex has used the system to his favor, and I’ll take advantage of the rest. It won’t even create a ripple in the news.”
    Jackie blinked and cleared her throat. She broke away from her trance and hurried across the worn shag carpet into the kitchen, then raided the cabinets and found some vodka.
    Drink in hand, Jackie came into the living room and snapped again, “Everything has gone bad.”
    “Turn the television on so we can see if there’s any word on Rick’s condition.”
    She didn’t respond. I found the remote and turned the television to the local news. They were in the middle of a story about a viral video of an old white man beating a young black man on a bus.
    Jackie was dazed, eyes wandering around the room, shifting in and out of focus, moving from wall to wall like she was confused.
    A cellular started ringing again. The same Spanish song that had played before. When the call ended unanswered, as if on cue, the second cellular started singing the Dean Martin ringtone.
    Jackie caught her breath. “Their wives are not going to stop calling.”
    “They don’t know.”
    Jackie took a deep breath and shook her head. “Sammy would want his wife to know.”
    The cellular phones started ringing again, first the Mexican song, then the number by Dean Martin. It made me wonder if Rick and Sammy were dead and calling us from the other side.
    Jackie went into the bedroom and came back with the phones of our fallen comrades. After she stared at it with watery eyes, she handed Sammy’s phone to me. She took Rick’s phone. I answered Sammy’s phone