Page 23 of I Will Ruin You

“Nice shoes,” Gerhard said.

“You think?” Andrea said, looking down at the Converse runners on her feet. “I was afraid they might pinch, but they’re actually maybe a half size too big, but that just gives my toes room to wiggle.”

They were leaning up against Gerhard’s shiny black Audi, parked in a Home Depot lot, Andrea smoking a Marlboro, Gerhard with his hands in his pockets, looking up into the sun with his shades on. They were waiting to meet one of their local distributors. Once they’d picked up a shipment from Billy, they’d keep some to sell themselves, but also divvy it up among a dozen other area dealers.

“That was pretty dumb,” he said.

She blew smoke out through her nostrils.

“Draws attention to us,” he said.

She drew in some more smoke, then opened her mouth and let it drift out slowly. “Had to send a message.”

“Message,” he said dismissively. “Like we don’t have enough problems. A dead junkie, Tijuana on our ass.”

Andrea hadn’t known that Cherise chick had died in the alley until after the cop had left the bar. That sad sack of shit sitting next to her said something about it, guessed that must be why that cop was sniffing around. Andrea thought there was something off about the woman, that she didn’t fit in, but how did this guy know she was a cop? Came to our school, he said, after that kid blew himself up. And then he started moaning about how that was how he lost his janitorial job, like she gave a fuck.

Maybe, Andrea thought, that cop had been looking for her.

When Jim was busy with some customers on the other side of the room, Andrea slipped out the back. Didn’t take long to spot the cop sitting in her car, watching the place. She didn’t have Gerhard’s Audi that night. She had her own Jeep Wrangler, legit plates on the bumper that could lead someone straight to her, parked a short ways up the street. Couldn’t be seen getting into that.

So Andrea watched the watcher. Took cover behind a tree by the curb, a car length away. When the cop got out of her vehicle, Andrea did her thing. Got the bitch’s shoes, too.

“You should thank me,” Andrea said.

“Say again?”

“Now we know the cops are looking into this. We know now to be extra-careful. That calls for reassessment. Look at our risks, reevaluate.”

Gerhard considered the comment. “Like?”

“Alter our routine. Make personnel changes.”

“Like?” he said again.

“Billy’s a liability. If he didn’t steal from us, he was sloppy enough to let someone else do it. Either way, he’s gone. Find someone else. Use a different airport. Start over.”

“That’ll set things back.”

Andrea blew out more smoke. “Better a setback than have everything go to shit. What if that cop finds her way to him?”

“He does a retrieval today,” Gerhard said. “We’ve got a pickup tonight.”

“Last time,” Andrea said, stubbing out her cigarette on the hood of the Audi.

“The fuck?” Gerhard said, taking a tissue from his pocket and rubbing the spot. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Never call me dumb,” Andrea said. “I’ll put the next one out in your eye.”