The Fugitive Grandma Lives

Chapter 15 - No Backup

The Salton Sea was a man-made lake on the eastern edge of the Coachella Valley. A long time ago it was supposedly some sort of oasis resort. Now it was a decaying cesspool, a monument to the ugliness that men can create when they put their minds to it. A perfect place for Sal Holiday to schedule his next rendezvous with Frank Valentine.

The air was foul with the smell of dying animals as the two men walked along the beach.

"You know why the sand is so white here don't you, Frank?" Sal explained. "It's the ground up bones of all them dead birds and fish. The lake is too toxic for them. Only a certain kind of creature can survive this level of nastiness."

Frank did business with men like Sal before, men who thrived through their ability to make the world filthier and contaminate the lives of the people they touched. They were the agents of a virus, spreading the contagion meanness and misery.

Back in his hometown, Frank had become entangled in bad real estate deals with a local mobster named Lester Cummings. Johnny and Stella robbed Lester's henchman before they disappeared off the grid as fugitives. It was among the stolen loot that they had initial found the contact book with Sal Holiday's information. They contacted him after hiding out in Arizona for two years, living hand-to-mouth in trailer parks and week-to-week motels. Johnny skipped school for a year, living off of the Internet and library books. One day another guest at their motel asked why Johnny was in school and the next thing they knew a local trooper was asking questions to the clerk in the front office. That night, Frank bought a used car with fresh plates and drove back over the state border into California, seeking out Sal's services to purchase yet another fake identity.

"You did a pretty good job of hiding yourself, Frank Valentine," Sal said. "I dealt with fugitives all my life and I know how it goes. It's a big country and there's a lot of dark corners to crawl into. In the end it's usually the ones you love who give you away. With the Unabomber it was his brother. Whiteyt Bulger had his girlfriend. In your case, it was your mom, Frank. She hadn't helped that poor wetback at the country club she never would've attracted my notice."

Frank winced as if he'd just taken a gut punch to the solar plexus.

"You love your mom, Frank, that's your weakness. One flaw I never had."

"Never mind about my family," Frank said. "You're a business man right? Let's make a fair deal."

"I want an unfair deal. I want a deal where I bleed you dry. I remember in the news where your family robbed that Great American warehouse. You must've made off with a fortune. That's why you've been able to live on the lam all this time."

"We're both on the wrong side of the law, Sal."

"Wrong side of the law? I work for El Hefe, Frank. He rules the roost out here. He's got cops on the payroll. He's got seats on the city council. He's got people everywhere. What do you got? You got nothing. I had my people scope out your apartment. You got no back up. It's just you, your son and your grandma. Paul, Billy and Lucy Chase."

"OK, so you own me," Frank conceded. "What are your terms?"

"I figure you must be sitting on at least a half a mill. You're gonnastart bringing me twenty five thousand a week starting tomorrow. Otherwise, Itip off the cops and they show up for your kid and your mom. And you? I'll haveyour bones ground up into the sand here on the beach. That way no one will everknow about our little arrangement."