Dark Ride Read online

  "Whoever did it is one big loser," Larkin said. "I mean all they managed to grab was some sixty bucks."

  "No perp with any class would've even bothered," Romero observed. "Not worth the effort."

  "You're looking at us for this?" Marty asked, measuring the surprise in his voice. "Why?"

  "A few reasons," Larkin answered. "First, it’s exactly the kind of shit you pull… and that store is less than two miles from here. And something else was stolen besides the cash."

  "Any idea what that might be?" Romero asked.

  "No," Marty answered, keeping his eyes on Larkin.

  "Four gift card passes to Oceanside Park," Larkin told him.

  "But there's just the two of us who came," Stevie blurted out.

  "Shut up," Marty snapped.

  “Technology today, it’s really something,” Larkin said.

  “You finally figure out how to use your smart phone?” Marty jibed.

  “See, we got the receipt for those passes from our robbery victim. What’s the name again, Oscar?”

  “Baumgarten,” Romero answered.

  “Save your breath,” Marty said. “We paid cash to get in.”

  “Baumgarten, right,” Larkin ignored him. “I mean we got it from his wife, but it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the serial numbers for each pass were printed right on the receipt.”

  “But that’s not the cool technology part,” Romero chimed in.

  “We stopped by the main gate on our way in here and had them type those serial numbers into their system,” Larkin said. “And you know what? They were able to tell us that two of those four stolen passes had been used just today. That’s what I meant about the technology. Cool, huh?”

  "That's some coincidence, you two being here the same morning," Romero said.

  “I already told you, we paid cash,” Marty insisted.

  "So this loser, or maybe losers," Larkin continued with a glance towards Stevie. "They beat up the store owner. No reason for it. He gave them what they wanted but they beat him anyway. An old man, they beat him up pretty bad."

  "Gee, I hope he's gonna be all right," Marty said with just the right amount of sympathy.

  "Me, too," Larkin said, sliding back out of the booth, his tone more sober.

  "Leaving so soon?" Marty asked.

  "Get up, both of you," Larkin ordered.

  Stevie shot him a questioning look across the table. Marty shrugged and nodded. As they got to their feet he noticed Romero step back a couple of paces, casually resting his hand on the grip of his Glock.

  "Stand still," Larkin said to Stevie, and immediately began patting him down.

  Larkin finished and did the same to Marty. Marty could feel the eyes of the people in the diner staring at him. He didn't like it and he felt the heat of anger flaming up inside him.

  "Find anything good?" Marty asked, hearing the tenseness in his voice.

  “Empty your pockets,” Larkin ordered. “Put the contents on the table.

  Marty fished in his pockets and dropped his car keys and some loose change on the table. Stevie contributed more change and a half-empty pack of gum.

  "Wallets, take them out," Larkin said.

  Marty took his time digging his wallet from his back pocket and offered it to Larkin.

  “No, you keep it,” Larkin instructed. Take out the bills and count them onto the table where I can see.

  Marty shrugged and did as he was told. "Seventeen bucks," he reported.

  Larkin turned to Stevie.

  “I just got a five,” Stevie told him, displaying the bill.

  Larkin and Romero exchanged glances and Marty felt good seeing the frustration in their faces.

  “Okay… you can gather up your stuff,” Larkin said.

  Marty and Stevie began picking up their belongings.

  “No stolen money. No park guest passes. No evidence at all,” Marty said, sympathy in his tone. “Probable cause is a bitch, huh?”

  Larkin said nothing but Marty recognized the anger in his hard stare.

  “When you’re right, you’re right,” Larkin began. “I don’t have enough probable cause to arrest you on suspicion of robbery. But I sure as hell have enough to get a warrant to search that room of yours.”

  “If you want to waste your time, who am I to stop you?” Marty shrugged.

  “Still live in that flop house on Windward?” Larkin asked as he and his partner turned and headed out of the diner.

  Marty felt the scowl mask his face as he dropped the money he had shown the cops on the table to cover the check. Watching through the diner’s large window, he waited until they disappeared into the crowd.

  “We gotta get back to my place,” he told Stevie.

  He headed quickly for the exit. Stevie caught up and followed him through the door.

  “But why?” Stevie asked. “I like it here.”

  “I’ve still got a couple of things at my place from that B and E job I told you about. If Larkin gets lucky and gets that warrant… the stuff in my room can tie me to the job.”

  “Well, are we coming back?” Stevie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Marty answered. “The cops are really screwing this all up.”

  Stevie looked absolutely devastated.

  “Geez, don’t have a fit. We’ll get our hands stamped on the way out, just in case we come back.

  Chapter Seven

  Marty’s Old Friends

  Marty approached his boarding house from the rear and parked the Civic around the corner. His memory suddenly clicked in the moment he slammed the car door.

  “Son of bitch,” he cursed.

  “What?” Stevie asked.

  “We left our money back there. Our money from the store is back in that diner. Son of a bitch!”

  “And my dexies,” Stevie exclaimed, his memory finally catching up and his panic obvious. “I pushed ‘em down in the corner of the booth.”

  “Damn cops,” Marty growled. “We gotta go back, then. As soon as we finish up here we’ll go back.”

  “Yeah, we need to go back,” Stevie agreed.

  Marty led the way to the back of the building. They passed the building’s dumpsters, climbed the few steps leading into the main hallway, and then climbed the back stairway up to the third floor.

  Once inside his room Marty went directly to the electric wall heater. He quickly removed the four screws fastening the front cover screen to the heater. As he pulled the screen away from the wall two, expensive men’s wristwatches fell onto the dirty carpet.

  “Put these in your pocket,” Marty handed the watches to Stevie.

  “Wow, thanks.”

  “Just make sure nothing happens to them. I’ll get ‘em from you later,” Marty told him as he refastened the screen cover to the heater.

  Marty locked the door behind him and they left the building by the same route by which they’d entered.

  They were heading back to the car when two men suddenly appeared around the corner directly ahead of them. Marty recognized them immediately.

  “Shit,” he exclaimed under his breath, looking for a place where he could duck out of sight.

  “What’s wrong?” Stevie asked.

  The leader of the two, Andy, was now looking his way. In another moment his confederate, Gene, spotted him as well. Both of them stared with expressions of surprise. And then the surprise turned to recognition. They hurried towards him.

  The two thugs were between him and the car so Marty bolted towards the opposite side of the street. Stevie cried out his name and then broke into a run behind him, barely avoiding an oncoming pickup truck that blared its horn at him.

  Marty cut between two parked cars and headed for the nearest side street. He turned into the street, desperately scanning the path ahead for anyplace he might disappear. Stevie finally caught up to him.

  “Marty,” he wheezed. “What’s going on?”

  Marty glanced behind him. His pursuers entered the street at a full run.


  “Go!” Marty ordered.

  Together they sprinted up the street. Marty led the way, dodging in and out of parked cars and around pedestrians. He wasn’t used to this kind of thing and his lungs were already beginning to burn. And Stevie, he was barely able to keep up.

  Another glance behind him confirmed that Andy and Gene were closing the distance. Up ahead, Marty spotted an alley opening between two, old brick buildings. He put on some extra speed and turned into the narrow passage with Stevie on his heels.

  The alley cut through to the adjoining street and was empty of any other people or traffic.

  Marty knew if he could make it to that next street he might have a chance of shaking the two men. He and Stevie ran hard. They passed a city roadwork project that jutted into the alley several feet, it’s striped barricades blocking off a large, jagged hole in the pavement.

  They were almost to the end of the alley when Gene suddenly appeared in the street ahead, blocking their way. Marty stopped abruptly and turned. Running into the alley entrance behind them was Andy.

  Marty and Stevie instinctively retreated from Gene, being the closest to them. They got only as far as the construction site before Andy reached them. Marty backed away from him but was stopped by the large pile of sand and a small cement mixer resting next to the barricades.

  “We want our money, Marty,” Andy spat.

  “What’re you talking about?” Marty asked.

  “You thieving son of a bitch,” Gene said.

  “You got your money,” Marty exclaimed.

  Andy moved towards him quickly, throwing a punch, but Marty got his arm up in time. The blow deflected off his forearm but the force of it knocked him off balance and he hit the ground hard.

  Stevie cowered back a few steps.

  “What the hell, man?” Marty cried, hurriedly climbing to his feet.

  “Give us the money. And now we want all of it,” Andy almost shouted.

  “What money?” I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marty insisted.

  “You found more money in that house,” Gene said. “A lot more than you split with us.”

  “That’s crazy,” Marty answered.

  A knife suddenly appeared in Andy’s hand. In another instant he had hold of Marty’s throat and the tip of the blade was under his chin.

  Stevie turned to run but Gene grabbed him before he could get far and held him roughly in place.

  “Enough of this shit,” Andy growled. “You gave me and Gene seven hundred bucks from that job. You pulled it right out of that leather bag of yours and said that’s all there was.”

  “Yeah. We each got seven hundred,” Marty said.

  Andy shoved him away hard and pointed the tip of the knife blade at him.

  “You got almost three grand,” Andy yelled.

  “Marty,” Stevie whimpered. “I didn’t have nothing to do with any of this.”

  “Shut your mouth,” Gene said, shoving him away hard.

  Stevie stumbled into the sand pile and lost his balance. The clang of metal reverberated through the alley when Stevie’s head connected with the side of the cement mixer. He crumpled into the sand and lay still.

  “Damn, Gene,” Marty breathed, looking down at Stevie.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Andy snapped. “Maybe you shouldn’t run your mouth so much if you’re gonna try ripping me off.”

  “What’re you talking—”

  “You remember the night you stopped by the Pale Pelican?” Andy interrupted him.

  Marty feigned not recognizing the name.

  “That bar over on Everest Street.”

  “I don’t’ know. Maybe,” Marty answered, a bad feeling beginning to ooze into his system.

  “Maybe, my ass,” Andy continued. “You did a little celebrating and you got plastered. And then you did some bragging to the guy sitting next to you at the bar. Remember now?”

  Marty had heard that word of what he’d done had gotten back to Andy. Now it was confirmed.

  “Yeah, I see you remember. It’s a really small world, Marty. That guy you mouthed off to is a friend of mine,” Andy said.

  “Geez, man. If I was loaded, I could’ve been talking a load of crap,” Marty argued.

  “But you weren’t,” Andy hissed. He jumped forward, grabbed Marty around the throat, backing him to the opposite side of the alley until he slammed into the brick wall.

  A sharp pain shot through the back of his head and Marty gasped to get air back in his lungs.

  Gene joined them taking a position beside Andy.

  “Now, give me the money,” Andy ordered. “All of it.”

  “Okay, okay,” Marty wheezed. “I don’t have it anymore.”

  “Sure you do,” Gene said, venom in his tone.

  “Honest, I don’t. I went through it fast,” Marty said.

  “You went through it,” Andy repeated.

  “I swear, I swear I don’t,” Marty said. “I had a transmission problem with my car and I had to get it fixed. I need my wheels, man.”

  “That didn’t cost any three thousand,” Andy said.

  “The rest… the rest I partied some with it, and I lost most of it at the track,” Marty said.

  Andy’s face flushed red with anger.

  “You don’t have any of it?” Gene cried.

  Marty shook his head.

  “You’ll pay, Marty,” Andy said.

  Marty believed it and felt the cold needles of fear pricking at him. He didn’t like the look in Andy’s eyes.

  “I’ll pay it back, all of it,” Marty promised, hearing the desperation in his voice.

  “How you gonna do that?” Andy asked.

  “I’ll pull some jobs. It’s easy,” Marty told him. “You’ll get it all, every cent.”

  Andy glared at him but Marty could tell he was thinking about the offer. And then Andy’s eyes narrowed and hardened.

  “You’re full of shit, Marty,” Andy said. “You’ll pull some jobs, and then you’ll use it to get your thieving ass out of town. No, you’re gonna have to pay.”

  Andy raised the knife again.

  “No, Andy, I swear. I swear I’ll pay you back every cent,” Marty assured.

  “You gonna kill him?” Gene asked, concerned.

  Andy hesitated before answering. “Nah, but I’m gonna cut him enough so nobody’ll want to look at him.”

  “No, Andy. Please…” Marty pleaded. The escalating fear had him close to tears.

  I gotta make an example of you, Marty. If I don’t I’ll have everybody in town walking all over me.”

  A movement behind Andy and Gene drew Marty’s gaze away from the knife and they quickly turned to see what he was looking at. Marty quickly closed his eyes tight as Stevie hurled two fists of sand at them.

  Andy and Gene screamed. Andy released his grip on Marty and dropped the knife, raising his arm to cover his eyes. Gene was practically spinning in circles as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.

  Marty felt his fear instantly replaced by blind anger. He wound up and put everything he had behind a punch to Andy’s jaw. Andy stumbled backward with a growl of pain but stayed on his feet. A vicious kick to his groin brought him down to his knees.

  “Marty!” Stevie cried.

  Marty spun around to see Gene blindly grappling with Stevie. Stevie was kicking and punching but the bigger man wouldn’t let go.

  Marty hit Gene hard in the side of the head and followed through by pushing him violently across the alley. Gene’s legs went out from under him. With a cry of pain he careened into one of the construction barricades, knocking it into the shallow hole and tumbling in after it.

  A groan behind him made Marty turn. Andy, on his knees, was crawling towards the knife. Marty covered the distance quickly, delivered a kick to Andy’s side, and laid him out flat. Marty snatched up the knife and then hastily tossed Andy until he found the leather sheath tucked into the wasteband of his jeans.

  “Come on,” Marty
shouted to Stevie, sliding the sheathed knife into his own wasteband and covering it with his shirt.

  They both ran desperately for the end of the alley. They were barely halfway there when Marty glanced back to see Andy staggering to his feet and Gene pulling himself from the hole. Both of them began scuttling up the alley in pursuit.

  Marty and Stevie reached the end of the alley and rounded the corner. The Civic was parked up the block and they raced for it.

  As they approached the car Marty pulled out his keys. He struggled to get the key into the lock.

  “Marty!” Stevie cried.

  Closing in on them, Andy and Gene came running unevenly up the sidewalk.

  Marty got the key in the lock and pulled open the door. He practically threw himself behind the wheel and got the key into the ignition, opening the passenger door for Stevie at the same time.

  He glanced in the rear view mirror. Andy and Gene were almost on them.

  Marty turned the key. He felt genuine relief when the engine turned over without any problem.

  Andy and Gene reached the car as Marty got the Civic into gear and pushed down on the accelerator. The car shuddered when the two men, mad with fury, slammed their fists onto the trunk as the car pulled away.

  Narrowly missing an oncoming bus, Marty swerved into traffic and gave the Civic more gas. He felt his heartbeat slow down noticeably as he watched the two men grow smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror.

  Chapter Eight

  Back at the Diner

  Marty parked the Civic in the Oceanside Park lot and quickly made his way back towards the main gate with Stevie on his heels.

  “Those guys back there. They’re why you want to leave town, right? Stevie asked.

  Stevie had been badly shaken by the encounter in the alley and had remained quiet during the ride to the park. Marty had been wondering when he might calm down enough to say something about what had happened.

  “They’re as good a reason as any,” Marty answered, not liking the question.

  Reaching the return entrance gate, the attendant scanned their hand stamps and waved them into the park.

  "I’m glad we came back," Stevie said.

  "We didn’t have much choice. We have to get what’s ours,” Marty replied. “Besides, with everything that’s gone down, nobody will think to look for me in here.”