Page 82 of Cash

“Hey, calm down, baby,” Jules soothed. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Trixie is my friend, okay? I need to make sure she’s actually okay.” Brick cut his eyes at Junior. “Now she might be involved in this shit too. I mean, come on. Syringe and stabbing? It’s gotta be Finchie, right?”

Junior shrugged. “If not him, one of his fuckin’ goons, yeah?”

“We need to go see her,” Brick said firmly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, baby boy.” Jules frowned. “I know she’s your friend and all, but this is gettin’ complicated.”

“She might remember something that could help, right?” Brick argued. “You still don’t know what happened to you or who it was, and maybe she figured out something else that got her in trouble.”

“I’d say runnin’ around claimin’ that Finch III was murdered was askin’ for plenty of trouble,” Junior said. “That’s about as fuckin’ stupid as burnin’ your ball hairs off with a blowtorch to manscape, okay? Like, really dumb.” He frowned. “No offense. I know she’s your friend or whatever.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Brick mumbled.

“Speakin’ of friends, we got any at the hospitals here?” Jules asked. “Might be worth lookin’ into.”

“I’ll find out.” Junior pulled out his phone and began to text.

“If we find out what hospital she’s at, we’ll go after the visitation’s over if we don’t nab Finchie first,” Jules said.

“This isn’t just about Finchie,” Brick argued. “I wanna go see her either way.”

“Fine, baby. We’ll go. But only after the chances of us gettin’ spotted are down, all right?”

“You don’t think Finchie and them have figured out you’re literally hiding out next door?” Junior mused. “They busted into your boy’s house. Right over there.”

“They ain’t tried to come over here,” Jules replied. “I don’t think they know. Must have just been lucky before when somebody saw me over at Brick’s.”

“Well, I’m feelin’ very lucky too, and I’ve been workin’ on a possible list of suspects for whoever ratted you out.” Junior beamed. “I got lots of names and lots of bullets.”

Jules seemed amused. “Yeah? Gonna go blow ’em all away if they don’t talk, huh?”

“Look, goddammit,” Junior fussed. “There’s only so many people who knew about you comin’ down here, okay? It was a very private event, you feel me? So, logically, there is only so many motherfuckers that coulda said somethin’, and I got bullets for all of ’em. Startin’ with those movin’ guys.”

Brick had been hoping Jules had more booze because he was about to finish the whiskey, but he was listening to Junior as he chugged. Once he’d polished off the bottle, he thought for a long moment, thinking about that day Jules moved in.

It was the day they’d met, and he remembered it very well.

“Wait, wait.” Brick held up his hands. “Easy on the bullets. I think I know who it is.”

“You do?” Jules asked.

“The medical examiner. Michael Fannes. Fanny!” Brick was getting excited. “He was leaving the funeral home the day you moved in. He could have seen you and told someone! And then he was there at my house after the whole oopsies thing! He heard the detective giving Jules the tip about going to the Rialto. And, and oh! Oh! He could have totally helped cover up Finch’s murder! Plus, he already seemed to know what the stuff in the syringe was last night without any testing. Like maybe he’d done it before, you know what I’m saying?”

“That’s some mighty fine Scooby-Doo type shit you got goin’ on there,” Junior said. “But uh, no Scooby snack for you.”

“Why not?” Brick demanded.

“Michael Fannes is a new member of the I Survived An Interrogation By Erasmus Club.”

“Huh?”

“He was there at the fuckin’ visitation, and me and Raz had a nice little chat with him. You know, the kinda chat where either he answers a question or he loses fingers.”

“Shit.” Brick gritted his teeth. “Well, what did he say?”

“You mighta thought to fuckin’ mention this earlier,” Jules grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Junior.

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