Knowing by Laurel Dewey Page A

quietly and locked it, pulling down the greasy curtain for extra security and turning the sign so it read “closed.” Using hand signals, she motioned for Harlan to wait for her and to be quiet. Peeking through the black velvet curtain, Jane could see that Alex wasn’t in the main room. With stealthy precision, Jane entered the windowless room and waited. The walls were filled floor to ceiling with six-inch square cards that displayed the available artwork that Alex Delaney could ink onto your body for a ridiculously high fee. A small sign above the door to the back room read: I’d Rather Be Pissed Off Than Pissed On! Jane could hear the low hum of a radio playing heavy metal in the background and the sound of footsteps.
    “Christ on a cracker, Perry!” Alex said, as he walked in. “What in the fuck are you doing here?”
    “You sound just like my second cousin last year when I crashed the family reunion,” Jane calmly retorted.
    Alex stood his ground—all five foot seven of his tough, life-beaten body. The forty year old’s greasy black hair was pulled back in a half-ass ponytail and his flesh was covered with so many tattoos that he looked like a walking mural. Even though Alex had been rotating in Colorado most of his adult life, he still retained the Boston edge in his voice. “Whatever the fuck it is, I didn’t do it!” He started to retreat back into the back room.
    “Hey! We’re not done. I gotta talk to you!” Jane insisted.
    He eyed her carefully. “You look like shit.”
    “Keep this up, Alex, and I’m gonna feel like you’re my extended family that I never talk to.”
    “You look shook up. You back bending your elbow again?”
    Jane regarded Alex with a thick-skinned stare. She turned slightly to the black curtained area, hoping to hell that Harlan couldn’t hear everything. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Oh, come on. Word on the street was that you put down the bottle.”
    “The street, huh? Must be a slow news day on the street.” She needed to move forward. “Look, here’s the—”
    “You used to buy whiskey by the case!”
    Jane took several steps toward Alex. “You buy bread by the slice?” She scanned the area quickly. “We’re alone, right?”
    Alex eyed her cautiously. “Yeah…”
    “You got cameras in here or in the back room?”
    “Nothin’ in the back. Got one in the corner over there.” He pointed to a small camera in the corner behind Jane’s head.
    “Turn it off. And turn off the outside one while you’re at it.”
    “What the fuck’s goin’ on here, Perry?”
    “ Do it !”
    “ Why ?” Alex moved toward her. “What have you ever done for me ?”
    “Oh, hell, that’s rich! If it weren’t for me, you’d still be serving time for fraud. I went to bat for you with the judge. You got five years plus time served instead of ten years because of me. So, yeah, Alex, you do owe me.”
    “Motherfucker…” he mumbled under his breath as he flipped off the security feed. “Okay. It’s off. State your business.”
    “My friend and I need some ID—”
    “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, Perry? I could go back to prison for this—”
    “Well, we need to move past that—”
    “ Move past that ? What? Have you jumped to the dark side?”
    “Not yet. Look, how long is it going to take for a few IDs?”
    He looked her straight in the eye. “I got out of the business.”
    Jane couldn’t believe how obvious the lie looked. “Bullshit. I can smell your laminator in the back room!”
    Alex pulled back, his eyes showing pinpricks of fear but his face doing everything to hide it. “Is this a set up? Is that what this is? You tryin’ to trap me?”
    “I don’t have a lot of time, Alex. I need some good, fake IDs and you’re going to make that happen for me.”
    “And if I don’t?”
    “Oh, fuck…” Jane hated having to dish out threats. “How about what if you do ? Here’s my offer. If you agree to help me— and you will —I