They were in the dense trees directly behind Clifford's house. They knelt and caught their breath. Through the brush and weeds they could see the outline of the rear of the garage.
"What if we don't see the body?" she asked. "What then?" "We'll worry about that when it happens." This was not the moment for another long discussion about his options. On all fours, he crawled to the edge of the thick underbrush. She followed. They stopped twenty feet from the gate in thick, wet weeds. The backyard was dark and still. Not a light or sound or movement. The entire street was sound asleep.
"Reggie, I -want you to stay here. Keep your head down. I'll be back in a minute." "No sir!" she whispered loudly. "You can't do this, Mark!" He was already moving. This was a game to him, just another jungle game with his little buddies giving chase and shooting guns with colored water. He slid through the grass like a. lizard, and opened the gate just wide enough to slide through.
Reggie followed on all fours through the weeds, then stopped. He was already out of sight. He stopped behind the first tree, and listened. He crawled to the next one, and heard something. Chink! Chink! He froze on his hands and knees. The sounds were coming from the garage. Chink! Chink! Very slowly, he peeked around the tree and stared at the rear door. Chink! Chink! He glanced back at Reggie, but the woods and underbrush were black. She was nowhere in sight. He looked at the door again. Something was different. He crawled to the next tree, ten feet closer. The sounds were louder. The door was open slightly, and a win-dowpane was missing.
Somebody was in there! Chink! Chink! Chink! Somebody was hiding in there with the lights off, and he was digging! Mark breathed deeply, and crawled behind a pile of debris less than ten feet from the rear door. He hadn't made a sound, and he knew it. The grass was taller around the debris, and he crawled through it like a chameleon, very slowly. Chink! Chink!
He crouched low, and started for the rear door. The ragged end of a rotted two-by-four caught his ankle and he tripped. The pile of debris rattled and an empty paint bucket fell to the ground.
Leo bounced to his feet and darted to the rear of the garage. He yanked a. 38 with a silencer from his waist, and scooted in the darkness until he was at the corner, where he squatted and listened. The chiseling had stopped inside. lonucci peeked through the rear door.
Reggie heard the racket behind the garage, and fell to her stomach in the wet grass. She closed her eyes and said a prayer. What the hell was she doing here?
Leo sneaked to the pile of debris, then cut around it with the gun drawn and ready to fire. He squatted again, and patiently studied the darkness. The fence was barely visible. Nothing moved. He slid next to a tree fifteen feet behind the garage, and waited. lonucci watched him closely. Long seconds passed without a sound. Leo stood upright and crept slowly toward the gate. A twig snapped under his foot, freezing him in place for a second.
He moved around the backyard, bolder now but with the gun still ready, and leaned against a tree, a thick oak with limbs hanging low near the Ballantine property line. In the unkempt hedgerow less than twelve feet away, Mark crouched on all fours and held his breath. He watched the dark figure move between the trees in the darkness, and he knew if he kept still he would not be found. He exhaled slowly, his eyes glued to the silhouette of the man by the tree.
"What is it?" a deep voice asked from the garage. Leo slid the gun into the waist of his pants and eased backward, lonucci was standing outside the door. "What is it?" he repeated.
"I don't know," Leo said in a half-whisper. "Maybe just a cat or something. Get back to work." The door closed softly, and Leo paced silently back and forth behind the garage for five minutes. Five minutes, but it seemed like an hour to Mark.
Then the dark figure eased around the corner and was gone. Mark watched every move. He slowly counted to one hundred, then crawled along the hedgerow until it stopped at the fence. He paused at the gate and counted to thirty. -All was quiet except for the distant, muffled chiseling. Then he darted to the edge of the brush, where Reggie was crouching in terror. She grabbed him as they ducked into the heavier undergrowth.
"They're in there!" he said, out of breath.
"Who?!" "I don't know! They're digging up the body!" "What happened?" He was breathing rapidly. His head bobbed up and down as he swallowed and tried to speak. "I tripped on something, and this one guy, I think he had a gun, almost found me. God I was scared!" "You're still scared. And so am I! Let's get outta here!" "Listen, Reggie. Wait a minute. Listen! Can you hear it?" "No! Hear what?" "That chinking noise. I can't hear it either. We're too far away." "And I say we get farther away. Let's go." "Just wait a minute, Reggie. Dammit!" "They're killers, Mark. They're Mafia people. Let's get the hell out of here!" He breathed through his teeth, and glared at her. "Settle down, Reggie. Just settle down, okay. Look, no one can see us here. You can't even see these trees from the garage. I tried, okay. Now, settle down." She fell to her knees, and they stared at the garage. He placed his finger to his lips. "We're safe here, okay," he whispered. "Listen." They listened, but the sounds could not be heard.
"Mark, these are Muldanno's people. They know you've escaped. They're panicking. They've got guns and knives and who knows what else. Let's go. They beat us. It's all over. They win." "We can't let them take the body, Reggie. Think about it. If they get away with it, it'll never be found." "Good. You're off the hook, and the Mafia forgets about you. Now let's go." "No, Reggie. We gotta do something." "What! You want to pick a fight with Maria thugs? Come on, Mark. This is crazy." "Just wait a minute." "Okay, I'll wait exactly one minute, then I'm gone." He turned and smiled at her. "You won't leave me, Reggie. I know you better than that." "Don't push me, Mark. Now I know how Ricky felt when you were playing around with Clifford and his little water hose." "Just be quiet, okay. I'm thinking." "That's what scares me." She sat on her butt with her legs crossed in front of her. Leaves and vines rubbed her face and neck. He rocked gently on all fours like a lion ready to kill, and finally said, "I've got an idea." "Of course you do." "Stay here." She suddenly grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers. "Listen, buster, this is not one of your little jungle games where you shoot rubber darts and throw dirt clods. Those are not your little buddies in there playing hide-and-seek, or GI Joe, or whatever the hell you play. This is life and death, Mark. You just made one mistake, and you got lucky. One more, and you'll be dead. Now, let's get the hell outta here! Now!" He was still for a few seconds as she scolded him, then he jerked viciously away. "Stay here, and don't move," he said with stiff jaws. He crept from the brush, through the grass to the fence.
Just inside the gate was an abandoned flower bed outlined with sunken timbers and covered with weeds. He crawled to it, and picked out three rocks with all the fussiness of a chef selecting tomatoes at the market. He watched both corners of the garage, then made a silent retreat into the darkness.
Reggie was waiting, and she had not moved a muscle. He knew she could not find her way to the car. He knew she needed him. They huddled again in the brush.
"Mark, this is insane, son," she pleaded. "Please. These people are not playing games." "They're too busy to worry about us, okay. We're safe here, Reggie. Look, if they came tearing out of that door right now, they could never find us. We're safe here, Reggie. Trust me." "Trust you! You'll get yourself killed." "Stay here." "What! Please, Mark! No more games!" He ignored her and pointed to a spot near three trees, about thirty feet away. "I'll be right back," he said, and he disappeared.