Highway from Hell
Chapter Twelve
Jack slowly raised himself up to a sitting position and Joe followed suit. "You okay?" Joe asked.
"Thanks to you," Jack replied grimly. "If you hadn't pushed me down before the shooting started..." he broke off and stood up. He offered Joe a hand and helped him to his feet as a siren sounded in the background.
"Let's go," Joe said nervously.
"Shouldn't we talk to the police?" Jack asked, looking amazed because Joe wanted to leave the scene of a crime.
"I'm a junkie and you're a dealer," Joe reminded him.
"Oh!" Jack said, his eyes widening in rememberance. They took off at a run through the alley and down harvest Street, never stopping until they reached the building where Jack was staying.
"Much nicer apartments than the one I've been staying at," Joe noted in appreciation.
"Your dad wants you safe at home as soon as possible," Jack told him as they entered the building and climbed the stairs. "He's gone all out to make me look like the king of suppliers."
Jack unlocked the door to his apartment. "I still don't get exactly how this is supposed to work," Joe said.
"Your dad thinks whoever is in charge of supplying the drugs in the area will either want to go in with me or want me dead. But," he added before Joe could interuppt, "they will want to know where I get my stuff because I'm going to be underselling and you are going to be living it up on your share of the profits."
"When do you talk to Dad again?" Joe asked, sitting down on the leather sofa.
"Tomorrow morning," Jack replied, stretching out beside him. "Why?"
"We have to let him know about the shooting," Joe replied, frowning.
"Frank?" Jack suggested.
"Yeah," Joe agreed. "But it's way too early to go and see him and your phone's probably tapped."
"Well, there's nothing we can do now," Jack told him. "Your dad gave me some stuff for you," he added. "It's in the room on the right. Take it easy and relax," he advised Joe. "Tomorrow, we start our sting."
While Joe and Jack kicked back and watched television, Chet, who had witnesses the shooting and gotten the tag number on the car, raced down the street to a pay phone. He put in a call to Mr. Hardy who said he would call back in fifteen minutes.
Chet waited impatiently by the phone, watching a squad car pull up to the scene. By the time the police had blocked off the area, fifteen minutes had elasped. Chet checked his watch, jumping nervously when the phone rang, even though he had been expecting it. Chet told Mr. Hardy about the shooting, assuring him that Joe and Jack had been unhurt, then gave him the tag number.
"Tomorrow, you, Biff, and Frank are going to start working for Joe," Fenton told Chet. "Joe can fill you in on the details. Listen carefully, you are only to sell to people who know the code phrase," he continued. "Make any comment you like about the weather but unless the person replies with "I prefer the ice," don't sell."
"Got it," Chet assured him, repeating the phrase over and over in his head until he was sure he had it. "I prefer the ice," he repeated so Mr. Hardy knew he understood. He hung up and returned to the apartment where Biff and Frank were waiting. He told them about the shooting and his conversation with Mr. Hardy.
"You guys hang here," Frank told Chet and Biff when Chet had finished speaking. "I'm going to find Cory and talk to him."
"Why?" Chet asked.
"Joe said Cory was at the arcade last night," Frank said. "Maybe he saw who attacked Joe," he added, grabbing a pair of sunglasses off the television as he headed toward the door.
Frank headed down the street to the arcade. He saw Cory going into the arcade and followed. "Hey," Frank said, coming up behind Cory as he stood in front of the room looking around.
Cory jumped and spun around. "Oh, hi Tony," he said, relaxing when he saw Frank.
"What's wrong?" Frank asked, noticing how edgy Cory seemed to be.
"I haven't seen Toots all day," Cory replied. "She wasn't at any of her normal hangouts today."
"Toots?" Frank queried, his face taking on a perplexed look even though he did know who Cory was talking about.
"Oh, that's right," Cory said as realization dawned. "She left before you got there. I thought she was bad news, but after seeing Joe's friends, I think he was the cause," he continued.
"Joe's not so bad," Frank said. He knew Joe had appearances to keep but Cory really seemed to hate Joe.
Cory looked at Frank suspiciously. "You haven't been hanging out with him, have you?" he demanded.
"I've seen him a few times," Frank admitted with a little shrug.
Cory shook his head. "Man, you're better off without his kind. You got clean. Stay that way!" He took a deep breath and calmed down. "You want to go to a meeting tonight with me?" he asked.
"I'm supposed to meet someone later," Frank lied.
Cory's face froze. "Joe?" he asked, but continued before Frank could reply. "He won't show," Cory stated with certainity.
"Why do you say that?" Frank asked, taking in Cory's appearance in a new light.
"He just won't," Cory insisted. "Come with me tonight?"
"For someone who was so dependant on the junk, you're really down on someone else who was," Frank observed.
"People like Joe are bad news," Cory asserted, putting his hands into his pockets. "The sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll get clean and stay that way." With that, Cory left the arcade in a huff. Frank stared after him thinking about what Cory had said. He suddenly ran out of the arcade, looking for Cory, but he had all ready vanished.
Frank returned to his apartment, a deep scowl on his face. He slammed the door behind him, causing Biff and Chet to jump to their feet. "What's wrong?" Chet demanded, his face covered in fear.
"It's my fault," Frank said in self-disgust.
"What is?" Biff asked, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement.
"Cory's the one trying to kill Joe," Frank informed them.
"How do you know?" Chet asked.
"Why is that your fault?" Biff demanded at the same time.
"I met Cory at the foundation," Frank told them. "I kept trying to get close to Joe but Cory kept getting in the way. His brother died of an overdose and he kind of took me under his wing. Joe got the rep for still using and Cory took a big dislike to him." Frank paused, thinking about what he had just said. "Hate, more like it. Someone gave Joe an overdose in the rec room at the foundation. We know it couldn't have been Ken, but we never found out who did give it to Joe. Cory had the opportunity and he hated Joe enough to do it."
"But how did you find out it was him?" Chet asked again.
"At the arcade tonight, he kept talking about Joe in the past tense and when he thought I was going to meet Joe later, he was positive he wouldn't show up." Fank stopped talking and looked at his friends. "And," he finally said, his voice steady, "he had on a belt identical to the one Joe's ankles were bound with, except this one was barnd new. I noticed part of the sticker on a loop when he put his hands in his pockets."
Frank fell onto a chair with a weary sigh. "We've got to set a trap for Cory," he said, looking over at Biff and Chet. "Joe can't keep watching his back for Cory and work on this sting at the same time."
"You need to talk to your dad," Biff advised. "I can call him from the pay phone.." he was offering when he was interuppted by Frank.
"Call Chief Collig instead," Frank instructed. "Tell him to go and visit dad and tell dad to meet me at Pete's Diner by the docks. Be sure to tell him to have Dad wear a disguise." "Right," Biff agreed. "What time?"
"Nine tonight," Frank replied. "We need to get Cory out of the way as soon as possible."
"I'm starving," Joe said, coming out of the bedroom later, dressed in new jeans and a tee shirt sporting a heavy metal band's logo on the front.
"Let's get started then," Jack said, standing up. "We've got reservations at Terrance's for eight o'clock," he added. "If you want to take a taxi, we'll have time to stop by the mall and get you some new shoes."
Joe looked down at the sneakers he wore. They had seen better days even before the dumpster incident and their subsequent washing. "You're on," he replied with a grimace.
They arrived at the mall and went to the shoe store. While Joe looked for some new Nikes, Jack wandered off to look for some dress shoes.
Joe took a pair of neon blue shoes from the rack and sat down to try them on. He put the right one on and was tying it when he saw a set of high heels walking toward him. He looked up to see Tara, her long red hair put back in a pony tail. "Hi Joe," she said, smiling down at him, her eyes filled with curiosity.
He started to answer when another voice called out, "Joe!" Joe turned and inwardly cringed when he saw blond-headed, green-eyed Callie Shaw coming down the aisle toward him.
"What's going on?" she demanded, coming to a halt in front of him, her eyes flashing angrily. "I've been trying to...."
Chapter Twelve
Jack slowly raised himself up to a sitting position and Joe followed suit. "You okay?" Joe asked.
"Thanks to you," Jack replied grimly. "If you hadn't pushed me down before the shooting started..." he broke off and stood up. He offered Joe a hand and helped him to his feet as a siren sounded in the background.
"Let's go," Joe said nervously.
"Shouldn't we talk to the police?" Jack asked, looking amazed because Joe wanted to leave the scene of a crime.
"I'm a junkie and you're a dealer," Joe reminded him.
"Oh!" Jack said, his eyes widening in rememberance. They took off at a run through the alley and down harvest Street, never stopping until they reached the building where Jack was staying.
"Much nicer apartments than the one I've been staying at," Joe noted in appreciation.
"Your dad wants you safe at home as soon as possible," Jack told him as they entered the building and climbed the stairs. "He's gone all out to make me look like the king of suppliers."
Jack unlocked the door to his apartment. "I still don't get exactly how this is supposed to work," Joe said.
"Your dad thinks whoever is in charge of supplying the drugs in the area will either want to go in with me or want me dead. But," he added before Joe could interuppt, "they will want to know where I get my stuff because I'm going to be underselling and you are going to be living it up on your share of the profits."
"When do you talk to Dad again?" Joe asked, sitting down on the leather sofa.
"Tomorrow morning," Jack replied, stretching out beside him. "Why?"
"We have to let him know about the shooting," Joe replied, frowning.
"Frank?" Jack suggested.
"Yeah," Joe agreed. "But it's way too early to go and see him and your phone's probably tapped."
"Well, there's nothing we can do now," Jack told him. "Your dad gave me some stuff for you," he added. "It's in the room on the right. Take it easy and relax," he advised Joe. "Tomorrow, we start our sting."
While Joe and Jack kicked back and watched television, Chet, who had witnesses the shooting and gotten the tag number on the car, raced down the street to a pay phone. He put in a call to Mr. Hardy who said he would call back in fifteen minutes.
Chet waited impatiently by the phone, watching a squad car pull up to the scene. By the time the police had blocked off the area, fifteen minutes had elasped. Chet checked his watch, jumping nervously when the phone rang, even though he had been expecting it. Chet told Mr. Hardy about the shooting, assuring him that Joe and Jack had been unhurt, then gave him the tag number.
"Tomorrow, you, Biff, and Frank are going to start working for Joe," Fenton told Chet. "Joe can fill you in on the details. Listen carefully, you are only to sell to people who know the code phrase," he continued. "Make any comment you like about the weather but unless the person replies with "I prefer the ice," don't sell."
"Got it," Chet assured him, repeating the phrase over and over in his head until he was sure he had it. "I prefer the ice," he repeated so Mr. Hardy knew he understood. He hung up and returned to the apartment where Biff and Frank were waiting. He told them about the shooting and his conversation with Mr. Hardy.
"You guys hang here," Frank told Chet and Biff when Chet had finished speaking. "I'm going to find Cory and talk to him."
"Why?" Chet asked.
"Joe said Cory was at the arcade last night," Frank said. "Maybe he saw who attacked Joe," he added, grabbing a pair of sunglasses off the television as he headed toward the door.
Frank headed down the street to the arcade. He saw Cory going into the arcade and followed. "Hey," Frank said, coming up behind Cory as he stood in front of the room looking around.
Cory jumped and spun around. "Oh, hi Tony," he said, relaxing when he saw Frank.
"What's wrong?" Frank asked, noticing how edgy Cory seemed to be.
"I haven't seen Toots all day," Cory replied. "She wasn't at any of her normal hangouts today."
"Toots?" Frank queried, his face taking on a perplexed look even though he did know who Cory was talking about.
"Oh, that's right," Cory said as realization dawned. "She left before you got there. I thought she was bad news, but after seeing Joe's friends, I think he was the cause," he continued.
"Joe's not so bad," Frank said. He knew Joe had appearances to keep but Cory really seemed to hate Joe.
Cory looked at Frank suspiciously. "You haven't been hanging out with him, have you?" he demanded.
"I've seen him a few times," Frank admitted with a little shrug.
Cory shook his head. "Man, you're better off without his kind. You got clean. Stay that way!" He took a deep breath and calmed down. "You want to go to a meeting tonight with me?" he asked.
"I'm supposed to meet someone later," Frank lied.
Cory's face froze. "Joe?" he asked, but continued before Frank could reply. "He won't show," Cory stated with certainity.
"Why do you say that?" Frank asked, taking in Cory's appearance in a new light.
"He just won't," Cory insisted. "Come with me tonight?"
"For someone who was so dependant on the junk, you're really down on someone else who was," Frank observed.
"People like Joe are bad news," Cory asserted, putting his hands into his pockets. "The sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll get clean and stay that way." With that, Cory left the arcade in a huff. Frank stared after him thinking about what Cory had said. He suddenly ran out of the arcade, looking for Cory, but he had all ready vanished.
Frank returned to his apartment, a deep scowl on his face. He slammed the door behind him, causing Biff and Chet to jump to their feet. "What's wrong?" Chet demanded, his face covered in fear.
"It's my fault," Frank said in self-disgust.
"What is?" Biff asked, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement.
"Cory's the one trying to kill Joe," Frank informed them.
"How do you know?" Chet asked.
"Why is that your fault?" Biff demanded at the same time.
"I met Cory at the foundation," Frank told them. "I kept trying to get close to Joe but Cory kept getting in the way. His brother died of an overdose and he kind of took me under his wing. Joe got the rep for still using and Cory took a big dislike to him." Frank paused, thinking about what he had just said. "Hate, more like it. Someone gave Joe an overdose in the rec room at the foundation. We know it couldn't have been Ken, but we never found out who did give it to Joe. Cory had the opportunity and he hated Joe enough to do it."
"But how did you find out it was him?" Chet asked again.
"At the arcade tonight, he kept talking about Joe in the past tense and when he thought I was going to meet Joe later, he was positive he wouldn't show up." Fank stopped talking and looked at his friends. "And," he finally said, his voice steady, "he had on a belt identical to the one Joe's ankles were bound with, except this one was barnd new. I noticed part of the sticker on a loop when he put his hands in his pockets."
Frank fell onto a chair with a weary sigh. "We've got to set a trap for Cory," he said, looking over at Biff and Chet. "Joe can't keep watching his back for Cory and work on this sting at the same time."
"You need to talk to your dad," Biff advised. "I can call him from the pay phone.." he was offering when he was interuppted by Frank.
"Call Chief Collig instead," Frank instructed. "Tell him to go and visit dad and tell dad to meet me at Pete's Diner by the docks. Be sure to tell him to have Dad wear a disguise." "Right," Biff agreed. "What time?"
"Nine tonight," Frank replied. "We need to get Cory out of the way as soon as possible."
"I'm starving," Joe said, coming out of the bedroom later, dressed in new jeans and a tee shirt sporting a heavy metal band's logo on the front.
"Let's get started then," Jack said, standing up. "We've got reservations at Terrance's for eight o'clock," he added. "If you want to take a taxi, we'll have time to stop by the mall and get you some new shoes."
Joe looked down at the sneakers he wore. They had seen better days even before the dumpster incident and their subsequent washing. "You're on," he replied with a grimace.
They arrived at the mall and went to the shoe store. While Joe looked for some new Nikes, Jack wandered off to look for some dress shoes.
Joe took a pair of neon blue shoes from the rack and sat down to try them on. He put the right one on and was tying it when he saw a set of high heels walking toward him. He looked up to see Tara, her long red hair put back in a pony tail. "Hi Joe," she said, smiling down at him, her eyes filled with curiosity.
He started to answer when another voice called out, "Joe!" Joe turned and inwardly cringed when he saw blond-headed, green-eyed Callie Shaw coming down the aisle toward him.
"What's going on?" she demanded, coming to a halt in front of him, her eyes flashing angrily. "I've been trying to...."