Page 9 of Devious Corruption
She’s trying to intimidate me. Cute.
It’s a failed attempt. She’s as clueless as I am about how this loaded gun found its way into her apartment. It’s not that she couldn’t purchase a gun, but not this one.
“Where didyou get this?”
She reaches beneath her glasses to rub her eyes. A heavy sigh escapes her.
“I didn’t get it anywhere. My brother mentioned having left something here, maybe that’s it.”
“Maybe this is it?” My eyes might actually fall out of my skull and roll across the floor; this woman exasperates me to no end.
“It doesn’t make sense, though.” She turns her back on me and goes to where she dropped her purse by the door as she continues. “He needed my key to come back here to get something he left, and I sure as hell would have noticed that thing when I made my coffee this morning, so it wasn’t that.”
I watch her tap on her phone, then put it to her ear.
“I mean, a loaded gun. Seriously.” She shakes her head and walks several more steps to the bookcase in the corner of the room.
Obviously, she’d like for me not to hear this conversation, but that’s not going to happen. Taking the weapon with me, I cross the small living area.
It’s a cozy set up with a television set crammed between several bookcases. A long coffee table, topped with two jarred candles on a quilted runner sits between the television and the couch, which is pushed against the half wall dividing the living room from the kitchen.
“Keith. Call me back as soon as you get this. I found something I’m sure belongs to you.” She ends the call after leaving the message then taps on her phone again, leaving the same message for her other brother, Joey.
When she turns back around, she jumps, not having heard me approaching her.
“Your brothers generally walk around with these types of guns?” I question her.
“It’s just a gun, right?”
Justa gun. My teeth are going to break if my jaw tenses anymore.
“No. It’s not just a gun. This is a Glock 18.” I turn the weapon and point to the telling marker. “This tab behind the rear sight is a selector switch.”
She does her best to keep her expression bland, like nothing I’m telling her is provoking in any way.
“It’s a fully automatic weapon. This magazine only holds eleven bullets, but there are mags that hold up to thirty-three.” I tighten my grip. “It’s an illegal gun. Where would your brothers have gotten it?”
“Who said they have anything to do with this?” She breezes past me as though she’s bored with this subject and would like to move on to something new.
“You did.” I point out. “You said they probably left it behind. Do they normally leave fully automated illegal weapons in your kitchen?”
I knew those little pricks were trouble the first time I saw them. Aside from the fact they carry themselves like low level street thugs, they show up at all hours of the day or night banging on Maxine’s door. There’s been numerous complaints to the landlord about it. If he wasn’t such a lazy piece of shit, he’d probably get around to evicting her over it.
“It’s really none of your business.” She puts her hand out to me, palm up. “Just give that to me and you can go.”
“Who do your brothers work for?”
“I don’t get involved in their jobs.” She drops her hand back to her side. “I’m sure you’re used to doing whatever you want whenever you want, but you should go. I’m inside my apartment, thank you for your help, but I think you should leave.”
“Why?” I take a small step in her direction.
Does she realize she keeps chewing on the inside of her bottom lip? She’s doing her best to keep her expression neutral, but she has too many tells for it to work.
“Because I just got home from work. I’m tired. I’m hungry. And all I want to do is rot on the couch the rest of the night.”
The couch she mentions looks as beat up as the rest of this neighborhood. The cushions are flat and there are several thin tears in one armrest. Probably where the demon cat exercises her claws.
“Seems an easy thing then; simply tell me where your brothers might have gotten this, and I’ll leave you to your night of entertainment.”
