A Matter of Life and Death by Phillip Margolin (ereader with dictionary TXT) 📕

where I told you to dump him,” Kevin said as he took off the hand wraps and put them in a plastic bag.

The men carried Carlos outside through a back door while Kevin dressed. Kevin had recruiters in the homeless enclaves who scouted talent for him. When the recruiter told him about Joe, he knew he’d found the perfect patsy and the key ingredient in a big payday. When he was alone, Kevin took out his phone and sent a text that read, “ALL GOOD.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Joe paced back and forth next to the van. Fifteen minutes later, the giant who’d driven Joe to the fight walked out of the barn and opened the van door. Joe climbed in, expecting to see the other people who’d driven to the barn with him, but he was the only passenger.

Joe felt sick during the ride to town. He kept picturing Carlos’s battered face. When the van stopped, the door slid open, and the driver sat down across from Joe.

“We need to talk,” the giant said.

“About what?”

“About your future.”

The driver showed him his gun. Joe tensed.

“Stay calm. This is just to get your attention. The last thing I want to do is shoot you.”

“What … what do you want?”

“I want to help you.”

Joe was confused. If the giant wanted to help him, why did he have a gun?

“Here’s what you need to know. There’s a recording of your fight that shows you beating a man to death. The recording will be given to the cops along with the location of the body, unless you do what you’re told.”

Joe thought he might throw up. If he went to prison, how would Maria and the baby survive? The driver could see that he’d lost Joe.

“Hey, snap out of it and pay attention.”

Joe took a breath and stared across the van. The driver was holding out his hand. There was a phone in it.

“Keep this with you at all times. Someone will call you and ask you to perform a service. Do it and the recording disappears forever. Plus, there will be a nice payday for you.”

Joe took the phone.

“Now count the money you got at the barn.”

Joe opened the envelope and counted the money. Instead of the three hundred dollars he’d been promised, there was six hundred dollars.

“We take care of our people,” the giant said.”We know you got a wife and a kid. They shouldn’t be living here. It ain’t healthy. You get them and your stuff, and I’ll drive you to a decent motel. You ready to do that?”

Joe had dreamed about moving his family to safety, but he was certain that he would be asked to do something really bad in exchange.

“I can read people, Joe,” the driver said, “and I know you’re thinking about running. You don’t want to think that way. We’ll be watching you 24-7. Try to run, and bad things will happen to your family.” The man smiled. “You’ve got a cutie-pie for a baby and a looker for a wife. Cross us and you won’t like what happens to them.”

Joe flushed with anger, but he tamped down the urge to attack. It would be useless. Even without the gun, he would be no match for the giant.

The driver waited until he was certain Joe had his temper under control. He smiled.

“Now you’re thinking. That’s good. Go get Maria and Conchita and your things. I’ll wait for you, but don’t take too much time. You don’t want to make me nervous.”

Joe weaved his way through tents, tepees, and a few shacks constructed from wood or corrugated metal until he found the tent where his family was living. Maria was sleeping, but everyone in the homeless encampment slept lightly. She looked up, alarmed, when Joe ducked in. Then she smiled and placed a finger to her lips.

Conchita was curled up beside Maria. Joe knelt beside them.

“Pack everything,” he whispered. “We’re moving to a motel.”

“We can’t afford a motel.”

Joe opened the envelope with the cash and tilted it toward Maria.

“Where did you get the money?”

“I didn’t rob anyone. I earned it.”

“How—?” she started to ask, but Joe shook his head.

“I’ll explain later. Right now, we got to move fast. Pack our stuff. Then get Conchita ready. I’ll pull down the tent.”

Fifteen minutes later, Joe led Maria and the baby to the van. Maria stopped when she saw the driver.

“He’s okay. We’ll be fine,” Joe told Maria.

The driver smiled. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m glad we can help you and your family. Now hop in back, and I’ll drive you to the Riverview Motel. It ain’t fancy, but it’s a real step up from where you’re staying.”

Maria didn’t look convinced, but she carried the baby into the back of the van.

“What’s going on, Joe?” she asked as soon as the door slid shut. “How did you get that money?”

“Fighting,” Joe told her. “They have these fights in the country…”

“Are they legal?”

“I don’t know,” Joe lied, “but I won and got paid enough to move us out of the camp to a safe place while I try to find work.”

“What if the police—”

“The police won’t be a problem, and I won’t do it again, but I had to get us to someplace safe.”

The driver checked them into the Riverview Motel at three in the morning. The idea that there was a river view was pure fantasy, but Maria was thrilled that they were someplace safe. They put Conchita on a sleeping bag on the floor and got into the queen-size bed.

Maria was exhausted by the time they settled in, and she was asleep minutes after she closed her eyes, but Joe was still tossing and turning at 5:00 a.m. He couldn’t forget that he had killed Carlos, and he was terrified of what would happen to Maria and the baby if he went to prison. But would he go to prison? Carlos had agreed to fight him. He had died during a fair fight. Had he committed a