Buzz had had no trouble following the black Lincoln from Singing Beach to the storage facility in Saugus–if he didn't count having to listen to Skinny's constant bitching about not going after the guy with the gym bag. Buzz had finally shut Skinny up with the threat of a smack in the mouth. It had worked–for a while.
When Buzz saw the Lincoln turn into the storage facility, he'd driven the car quickly through the open chain link fence, heading for the building adjacent to the one the Lincoln had disappeared behind. Now they were far enough back not to be noticed, but close enough to watch the spic and his goon load the trunk full of duffel bags. Then the spic hopped in back like he was John Gotti or something.
Buzz grinned. "Well, well. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to count your chickens before they hatched?" He reached forward and started the engine.
"He probably had a million bucks in that gym bag."
"If you say one more word about that guy and his gym bag, I'm gonna tear your fucking head off."
Skinny slipped a stick of gum out of his pocket, stuck the gum in his mouth, and chewed like a squirrel on speed.
"But how do you know . . .?"
Buzz cut him off. "What do you think is in those duffel bags they just threw in the trunk–living room furniture?"
"Wow! You think it's in the trunk, Buzz? Huh, huh?" Skinny was really working his gum now.
"Of course, lame brain. They don't look like they coach a youth hockey team, do they?"
"Nah, nah. I just was saying . . ." Skinny's voice slowed. "One hundred keys. 200 pounds. Jesus, that's a lot of coke."
"Your math's off," Buzz said, not taking his eyes off the Lincoln for a second. "More like 220 pounds. But you're right about it being a lot."
"Here they come! We gonna take 'em?"
Buzz could see the fear all over the thin man's face. Even if Skinny could handle what went down today, eventually he'd get jammed up on something and he'd flip like an acrobat.
A real lousy feeling flooded through Buzz. He and Skinny'd been through a lot together and that time was coming to an end. Buzz gave his head a little shake. He didn't have time to feel guilty about that now.
"No, not here. Someone might have seen us drive in. We'll follow them to wherever they're going to stash it. Then we take them."
"What if they lose us?" Skinny said, fear and excitement cranking his voice even higher.
"Jesus, will you lower your fucking voice. It's going right through me. We aren't going to lose them. That stuff isn't going anywhere except from their trunk into ours."
"Here they come," Skinny said again. The Lincoln drove right by them, the goon driving, the spic in back, both looking straight ahead. Buzz put the Sentra in drive and . . .
"What the fuck?" A brown Ford blew by them only a few car lengths behind the Lincoln.
"Cops," Skinny shrieked. "I can tell by their bald heads."
"Motherfucker!" This couldn't be happening. Not when he was so close. Buzz banged the steering wheel with his fist so hard the whole car shook.
"What are we going to do?" Skinny whined.
“I don't know, but this isn't over yet." Buzz hit the gas and fell in line behind the unmarked cop car.