The Steeps

Chapter 16 - The Payoff

A few days later, Vera came back into the Copper Pot Café after running an errand at the post office. Most of the lunch crowd had left. She ignored the man in the corner waving for his check and walked straight back to the kitchen.  She raised a just-a-minute hand to the cook and went over to the sink where Casey, working a double shift today, was doing his pots-and-pans. 

“There’s a man outside wants to see you,” Vera said. 

Casey paused with the Brillo. “See me?” 

“Says he’s a friend of your father’s.” 

Casey frowned. He shook the suds off his hands and wiped them on a dish towel. “He say what he wants?” 

“No, but he looks like he’s from the city. Says he’ll meet you by the bus depot.” 

Still frowning, Casey said thanks and slipped his rubber apron off. He pulled the shower cap off his dreads, tossed it and the apron onto a table and went out through the delivery door.  

He went around to the front of the café, started walking down the sidewalk toward the bus depot. He was almost there when a voice called from the alley that ran along the side of the building. 

“Hey…” 

Casey stopped and peered into the alley. Saw a man standing there wearing a topcoat. 

“Remember me?” the man said, some familiar gravel in his voice. 

It was Munsey Beck, the man Casey had whacked with his skateboard his first two minutes in town – the man whose henchmen had been holding Nat Janz for a beating in this same alley. 

“I remember,” said Casey. 

He could see one of those henchmen standing in the shadows a few feet behind Beck. 

“You can relax,” Beck said. “I come as a friend.” 

“To collect what my father owed.” 

“That’s history. Your father paid off what he owed.” 

Casey said, “No way.” 

“It’s true.” 

“How?” 

“Long story short,” Beck said, “some body parts of his he sold black market. It cost him his life, the doctor screwed up. But he knew he was dying anyway, your father. We only found out ourselves afterward.” 

Casey looked stunned, but at the same time not surprised, Nat having been away so long. 

“You’re saying my father is dead?” 

“I’m sorry to be telling you. But there’s some good news, too.” 

“What good news?” 

“That ten grand you won is yours.” 

Casey’s face went from grief to confusion. 

Beck said, “You collected it, didn’t you?” 

“What?” 

“The ten grand.” 

“Not yet.” 

“Well do it. And make sure it’s cash. If you have any trouble, let me know. That’s my cell number your father gave you.” 

Casey was having trouble processing this. 

Beck said, “It’s how your old man had it all planned, once he knew he was on his way out.” 

He turned to the henchman behind him. The man stepped over and handed Beck a parcel that looked like some fancy canister – a burial urn. 

Beck turned back to Casey. “He had a note in his pocket, in case, saying to do this. Said you’d know where to put them, the ashes.” 

He put the urn in Casey’s hands. “My condolences.” 

Casey stared at the urn, looked up at Beck. Neither spoke. Nothing more needed to be said. Beck cocked his head at his henchman and the two started for the front of the alley. Just before they got to the street, Beck called back over his shoulder: 

“Don’t forget the ten grand.” 

Casey watched them cross the street, watched them go over to a shiny black Escalade. 

When they got to it, Casey had to blink. 

Standing beside the big SUV was the old woman from the bus, cradling her Chihuahua. She looked across the street to Casey, met his eyes and gave him a smile. 

The henchman waited a moment, then opened the Escalade’s rear door. The old woman climbed up and in with her dog. Munsey Beck climbed in after her and the henchman shut the door. He stepped to the front of the car and climbed in behind the wheel. 

Casey stepped out from the alley, still with both hands around the urn. He stood there where this whole thing started and watched the Escalade drive off.