Before I could change my mind and head back to the car, the door opened a crack and I got a glimpse of a wary eye, grey beard, heavy jowls.
“Camden McQueen?” he sounded even gruffer in person.
What was the use in lying now?
I nodded. “Hello, Gus.”
He grunted and then opened the door. “You better get in here before someone sees you.”
I swallowed and walked in. The carpeting underfoot was worn but soft, the house smelled like a cabin. It was dark. The TV was playing in the background, a movie from the 1940’s. I picked out Peter Lorre’s voice though it wasn’t Casablanca.
He shut the door behind him and set about locking the many deadbolts he had before finally sliding the chain across.
“Tough neighborhood?” I asked. “I saw a girl on a My Little Pony bike outside, she looked kind of nasty.”
He didn’t laugh. In fact he looked the opposite of amused. He leaned back against the door and folded his arms across his wide chest, his beer gut sticking out to infinity. His gaze leveled me.
“Something tells me this isn’t the time to be making jokes,” he said. “Now, I don’t know if you realize it or not, but I’m not here to be your friend. I’m not here to give you advice. I’m here to give you what you need because I made a promise to Ellie once and it seems by you being here she’s calling in on that promise. I’ll help you if you understand that I’m not doing it to be nice. I’m not doing it to be good. I’ve got my own life that I’ve sliced out for myself here and if I can avoid putting it through the burner, I will.”
I was biting my own lip without knowing it. He was waiting for me to say something.
“I appreciate that, Gus,” was the best I could come up with. Talking to him was a bit like talking to my dad and though I’d like to think Gus wouldn’t suddenly slap me in the face or call me a faggot, there was always the chance that he would. He was unpredictable and completely detached and that combination was a bit frightening.
“How about you go sit down and tell me what the hell is going on,” he said, gesturing to the couch.
I nodded, feeling more stupid by the minute and took a seat on his grey leather couch while he disappeared into his kitchen. I watched the movie on TV for a few seconds and recognized it as Arsenic and Old Lace with Cary Grant until Gus came back in the room with a beer. For himself.
He sat down on the recliner across from me and cracked the top of the can, chugging down half of it before slamming it on the coffee table in either annoyance or exuberance. Foam fell down the sides.
“You. Talk.”
I took a deep, calming breath and got into it again, rehashing the story, telling him everything I told him before.
“Why didn’t you tell me about being wanted by the LAPD?” he interrupted.
And here it came. I eyed the window, expecting to see a squadron pull in right through his garden, squashing the gardenia.
“I thought you wouldn’t help me,” I admitted. “And I need you to help me. To help Ellie.”
“How long did you say you knew Ellie for?” he asked.
“I went to high school with her.”
“And?”
“And she came back into my life two weeks ago.”
“And?” His eyes were steel as he drank the rest of his beer, slower this time.
“And, well, she was trying to rob me. I was on to her. We struck a deal, I’d ignore her attempt to steal from me if she’d help me escape my old life. She agreed. We took the money and ran.”
He rolled his eyes.
“We laundered the money in the casinos,” I went on. “We got caught.”
“By the police?” he asked, looking confused.
“No, by Javier,” I said. “You do know who that is, don’t you?”
He raised his hand dismissively. “I’m very aware of who that is. I just don’t know why the cops are after you now.”
With a pained sigh, I went into my side of things. The after story.
“But,” I finished off, “that really has nothing to do with the problem at hand. Javier has Ellie and I don’t know where or what he’s doing to her.”
I almost saw a smile on his face but it looked like it was sucked up by his beard.
“It has everything to do with the problem at hand if you’re wanted by the police,” he said like I was a moron. “Trying to track down Ellie just got a little bit harder with your f**k up.”
Fuck up, huh. You know, I was having a real hard time figuring out why the hell Ellie would send me to this guy. So far he was a steaming pile of dickshit. Still, I bit my lip purposely, to keep myself from blowing up and saying something I’d regret. My old friend rage had been welcomed in the shootout yesterday, but not today. Today I needed to suck it up and behave and quit making things worse for myself.
“So will you help me track her?”
He pursed his lips. “And why do you want to find her so bad?”
I gave him an incredulous look. “Because she’s in danger. If you know who Javier is, then you know he’s a bad man. He shot her uncle in the head.”
Gus shook his head. “Poor Jim.” And I realized that maybe he knew him too. I was about to apologize when Gus continued, “She is in danger of some kind, that is certain. The man she’s with is not the man he was and the man he was … well, let’s just say he went from bad to worse. That still doesn’t explain why you care?”
“Why I care?”
“You should be hightailing it to Canada. Get your fake numbers and go. You should be creating your new life, your escape, not heading after Ellie. Why is that?”
“Because …” how did I even explain it.
“Do you love her?” he asked. “Are you in love with her?”
I guess that explained it.
I nodded. No hesitation. All cards on the table. “Yes, to both.” I almost said some bullshit like “We’re in love,” but I couldn’t even say if that was true. All I knew is what I felt. And that the woman that I loved, that I always loved, had sacrificed herself for me. There was no getting past that. She’d embedded herself in my skin, like a tattoo I could never give myself.
“Well that certainly makes things messy, don’t you think?” he asked leaning back in the chair. The hostility on his face was replaced with pity. I wasn’t sure which one I liked better.