The Shakedown Shuffle: A Dieselpunk Adventure (The Crossover Case Files Book 3)

by Richard Levesque

  I nodded even though I knew Beadle couldn’t see the gesture. “And this lawyer friend of yours,” I said, “She’s part of your…organization?”

  “She’s a believer, if that’s what you mean. Given your experiences on the other side, I should think that wouldn’t preclude your willingness to work with her.”

  Thinking about the ten thousand dollars I’d walked away from just over an hour ago and the financial conversation I’d had that morning with Peggy, I let out a sigh and said, “No, that wouldn’t preclude anything. I’m just trying to see what I’m getting myself into.”

  “It’s not that bad, is it, Mr. Strait? Just a little investigating to help her prepare for trial when the situation arises, or to avoid it more often, I should think. No different from what you normally do, only you’re not working directly for the clients in this case.”

  O’Neal would not be happy to hear I was doing work for someone whose job it was to get her arrests overturned, but then again O’Neal didn’t need to know what I was doing, at least not right away. If something came to trial, it would be a different story, but until then I figured I could walk a tightrope as well as anybody else. Besides, I thought, if I said yes to this lawyer, it wouldn’t mean that I’d have to say yes forever. A payday or two might be enough to get me back on my feet.

  “I’d get my normal rate?” I asked.

  “That is for you and my associate to work out, Mr. Strait. I’m merely the conduit.”

  I doubted that very much and wondered if there wasn’t some other motive behind all of this. More than likely, Beadle was telling me the truth, but I figured he would be pleased to have me a little closer to his organization if for no other reason than to be able to keep an eye on me. The story I’d given him about traveling to another world had intrigued him, and I don’t think he completely believed me when I said I’d kept my consciousness firmly in this world since. If the old man ever found out about the machine Guillermo had built from Klaus Lang’s drawings—or the existence of Lang’s notebook—I expected he would drop the kindly “Uncle” Cosmo persona and reveal himself for what he was: a ruthless man willing to exercise all his power to bend the world to fit his vision of how it should be.

  Wary as I was of the warning voices in my mind, the emptiness of my bank account spoke louder.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll talk to her. What’s her name?”

  “Excellent,” Beadle said, and I could almost hear the smile widening through the line. “Her name is Imelda Bettencourt. Can you take down her number?”

  I told him I could and wrote it in my little notebook.

  “I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the arrangement,” Beadle said.

  “Thank you. I hope so,” I replied. “You’ll let me know if you get wind of Elsa?”

  “Absolutely,” he said with something that sounded like sincerity, and then we hung up. As I placed the receiver on its cradle, I wondered not for the first time if I’d just gotten in bed with a snake.

  Turning back toward my car, I saw the carhop bringing my food. I waved my thanks to her and dropped another nickel in the slot.

  Sherise answered on the second ring. “Can you leave the club for a little bit?” I asked her.

  She hesitated a moment and then said, “I think so. Is everything all right?”

  Echoing her, I said, “I think so. I just need to see you.”

  “Where?”

  “Your place?”

  “Ah. It’s that kind of need.”

  “Can you?”

  “Twenty minutes,” she said.

  “Perfect,” I answered and hung up. Normally, I hated eating while driving, but now it didn’t matter.

  * * * * *

  Sherise lay with her head on my chest, one leg draped across mine. A sheet covered both of us, and I played with the dark curls of her hair as we talked.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “Yes, but it’s a lot for me to wrap my mind around.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry to dump it all on you like this. I just couldn’t go on keeping it from you.”

  “Thank you, Jed,” she said, and I knew she meant it.

  Giving her the wrap-up on Leonora, Jeanie, and Mulvaney/Culpepper had taken only a few minutes. It had been a little more involved to tell her the rest.

  I had started with Buddy Miles and his face being melted off in the accident that killed everyone in my unit but me. Then I told her everything else—about coming home to find Annabelle gone, the vision I’d had in the Break O’ Dawn and the other ones I’d had when hooked up to Elsa Schwartz’s machine on Catalina Island. After I explained how I’d finally figured out that the accident that had killed Buddy had done something very different to me, I stopped talking, waiting for her to withdraw from me.

  She didn’t, not even a little. All she did was say, “What else?” with a tremble in her voice. How she’d known there was more, I couldn’t say, but she had, and that little bit about her confirmed what I already knew—that we were meant for each other.

  So, I spilled the rest, telling her how I’d visited more worlds since coming here with the help of Guillermo’s technology and that in some of those worlds there were other versions of Sherise Pike.

  She hadn’t flipped. She hadn’t yelled or cried or made to call the whitecoats up in Camarillo so I could swap spots with Osvaldo. Instead, she had remained calm, her arms still around me, and kept letting me play with her hair while I talked.

  “You don’t think I’m crazy?” I asked.

  “I didn’t say that,” she answered with a little smile. And then, more seriously, she added, “I know about the Crossovers and Cosmo Beadle. I’ve seen his book, but I haven’t read it. I always thought it was a scam to get people’s money. But you’re not like that. And I know you’re not one of his disciples. So, there’s no reason for you to make this stuff up, is there?”

  “No,” I said. “No reason at all.”

  “I would like to talk to your friend, Guillermo, though.”

  “To see if we’re both crazy?”

  “Something like that.” She paused and then added, “Ever since I met you, there’s been something…different. I guess that’s partly why I wanted to be with you. I feel…I don’t know. Curious, I guess. All the time. Like there’s always something more about you that I’m just on the verge of finding out. Maybe…maybe I’ve sensed that you’re not from here.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Does it scare you?”

  “I don’t know what it does. But…I don’t think scared. No.” She shook her head against my chest. “There’s nothing scary about you.”

  “That’s good.”

  There was silence for a little while, and then she said, “Jed?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t think…you don’t think you’re likely to get yanked back to that other world, do you? Like you’re just here temporarily?”

  “I don’t think so. But then again, I don’t know the rules for this sort of thing.” I felt her sigh at this, and I knew it hadn’t been the answer she’d wanted. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “No. I’m glad you did.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  Tracing light circles on my chest with her fingernails, she said, “Can we not talk about it anymore? For a little bit? I just need to think about it some more.”

  “I understand,” I said. “That’s fine. I just…I just need to know that we’re okay. For now, at least.”

  “Yes, Jed. Yes. We’re okay. For more than just now, too. I’m not…even leaning in that direction at all, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  We lay still for a few minutes then. I tried to stay right there in my mind, not to let my thoughts wander to other worlds or even to the road between Hollywood and Camarillo where Guillermo and Carmelita were traveling in one direction or the other. Mostly, I succeeded.

  Finally, she broke the silence and said, “That woman was wrong
, you know?”

  “Who?”

  “That Leonora. When she said you’re more machine than man. There’s nothing machine-like about you.”

  “Sometimes I wonder.”

  She shook her head, her hair moving under my hand.

  “It’s not true. You’re a good man, Jed. In this world or any other. I know what I’ve got when I’m with you. Maybe it’s other men who aren’t what they should be. Maybe Leonora didn’t really know enough about men to be able to say any of that and know what she was talking about.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “That means a lot.”

  She patted my chest. “If I don’t get back soon, Nicolai’s going to flip on me.”

  “Where did you tell him you had to go?”

  “To practice our act. I told him you had a sudden inspiration and needed me to sing while you played.”

  “And you think he believed that?”

  “Not for a minute.”

  She laughed, and I laughed with her. Then she said, “You should come by tonight. Not to play your regular set, though.”

  “What then?”

  “I think it’s time for our debut.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Why not?”

  I thought about. “You’re probably right. Only…”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Guillermo. There are a lot of loose ends around what happened last night. I need to talk to Osvaldo and get to the bottom of this, find out if he can really be trusted or not. And then figure out what to do about Elsa.”

  She remained quiet for a few seconds, and I was worried I’d hurt her feelings. But then she patted my chest and said, “Okay. Tomorrow night then. No excuses.”

  I smiled. “It’s a deal.”

  She got up then and started getting dressed. I watched, appreciating every graceful move.

  “What are you staring at?” she asked playfully at one point.

  I shrugged. “You make me feel like I’ve been found,” I said, “even when I’m not feeling lost.”

  She smiled, a little sadly.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “When I feel lost, it’s the only time I really feel free. Like I’ve gotten away from everything that tries to pull me down and hold me back. And I always feel free with you.”

  “So, you make me feel found and I make you feel lost?”

  She nodded. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was just after closing time when I got back to the office, but I found Peggy still there, waiting for me.

  “I didn’t want to leave,” she said when I walked in. “Not until I’d heard back from you one more time.”

  “Thanks, Peggy. Sorry if I kept you around longer than normal. I’ll pay you the overtime.”

  She chuckled at this, saying I couldn’t afford it, but her demeanor changed when I told her about the potential deal with Beadle’s lawyer friend. The news brought an eyebrow raise from my loyal secretary.

  “Imelda Bettencourt?” she asked, doubtful. “Sounds like a shark, Jed. You ready to swim in those waters?”

  “What choice do I have?”

  She shrugged. “You could hang it up. Play guitar fulltime.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’d find my way. Go back to driving a hack maybe.”

  “Your talents would be wasted there.”

  She smiled but said nothing.

  I tapped my fingers on the door to my office and said, “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “Not today?”

  I shook my head. “It’s late. Plus, there’s been enough topsy-turvy for today. Let’s let the dust settle before I strike up something new.”

  “That’s optimistic,” she said.

  “Meaning?”

  She smiled. “When have you ever known the dust to actually settle, Jed?”

  “Good point.”

  Before going into my office, I asked her if she’d mind calling Camarillo to see if we could get any information. I left the door open so I could hear Peggy’s end of the conversation. It was short, and when it was over, she reported that the information she’d received was vague—just that the party she was inquiring about had departed earlier.

  Peggy offered to stay with me until I got some news, which I thanked her for but then declined the offer. A few minutes later, after completing her end-of-shift routine at her desk, she came to my door, gave me a sad smile, and left me, locking the outer door to keep me safe from any after-hours clients who weren’t likely to show up anyway.

  I decided to wait around a little longer, anticipating the phone call that would signal the return of Guillermo, Carmelita, and Osvaldo. While I waited, I stared at Imelda Bettencourt’s number and wondered how my day would have ended differently if I’d just taken Leonora’s offer of the ten thousand dollars. I wouldn’t be preparing to go into business with a shark—that was certain. But would I have also turned into a shark myself? And would the knowledge of that have rubbed off on Sherise? If I was lucky, she’d still be able to feel like she could get lost in a man who said he was from a parallel world. But would she have been able to say the same about a man who accepted a small fortune in exchange for looking the other way on a murder—even if the victim was a smarm like Carl Culpepper?

  Doubtful.

  Finally, I headed home, but I stayed there just long enough to grab my guitar; then I drove to Guillermo’s. Perdida was sleeping curled up on the front porch and did not open her eyes at my approach, which made me think I should prompt Guillermo to reprogram the little dog to make her a bit more vigilant. I doubted he’d do it, though, even after having had his house broken into. He liked Perdida the way she was. Parking my tired frame on one of the worn old chairs Guillermo kept on the porch, I strummed the guitar absently and waited. I didn’t want to get into a song and run the risk of crossing over; the feeling I’d had at Jeanie’s where I’d felt reality slipping away without benefit of music had unnerved me a little, as I worried that my hold on this world might be getting tenuous even as I felt myself more and more at home here.

  After about half an hour, I heard the sound of the Patterson’s engine approaching. The sun was dipping below the western horizon, and I was glad that Guillermo had opted to keep all four wheels on the asphalt rather than take a chance and use the truck’s flight mechanism to get back to Los Angeles more quickly. Flying the pick-up was always a risky proposition, but flying it in the daylight was going to garner more attention than any of us were ready for.

  I leaned the guitar against the side of the house and stood up. Perdida had woken up by this point and was running circles around my legs. The mechanical dog had also recognized the sound of the truck and was showing her excitement. I walked to the edge of Guillermo’s yard, the dog following me, and watched as the truck stopped a few houses down. Seconds later, Osvaldo’s mother burst out of the house and threw open the passenger door of the Patterson. I could hear her joyful exclamations from this far away and smiled at the reunion even as I reminded myself that Osvaldo was going to have some explaining to do.

  “Things might just work out okay,” I said to Perdida, who whined a little in response.

  Soon enough, the truck was rolling forward again, Josefina now squeezed into the cab with Guillermo, Osvaldo, and Carmelita. It was a good thing it was a short trip to Guillermo’s driveway.

  Guillermo parked the truck, and they all tumbled out. I walked over and there was a round of greetings in a mix of English and Spanish, all punctuated by Perdida’s yapping—which didn’t stop until Guillermo bent to pat the little dog on its head. Then, she proceeded to follow happily and quietly as we crossed the lawn and went into the house.

  Once the little group was inside Guillermo’s house, I was able to get a good look at Osvaldo and saw that he was a little banged up. He had a bandage on his left cheek and several scratches on his forehead and arms. It looked like he’d done battle with a puma. I wanted to ask if he was
all right, but there was too much commotion at first for mundane questions like that, so I let the little group have their celebration at the missing man’s return.

  As soon as I could, though, I let everyone know that the party needed to stop until I got the information I needed. It took a minute to get everyone to agree, but then we all sat down in Guillermo’s living room—with Guillermo, Carmelita, and Osvaldo on the sofa, Josefina in Guillermo’s “good chair” beside the radio, and me in a wooden chair imported from the kitchen. Perdida, apparently pleased to have so much human attention, moved from person to person, nuzzling idle hands with her mechanical nose to get a bit of petting before moving on to cajole some more.

  The story came in pieces, mostly with Osvaldo speaking in muted tones, his eyes never connecting with mine. He spoke mostly Spanish with Guillermo and Carmelita translating different parts of the narrative into English while Josefina and I listened. For my part, I kept my eyes on Guillermo, as I was certain he’d start to look uncomfortable if Carmelita delivered a translation that wasn’t accurate in an effort to make Osvaldo come out a little cleaner than he’d actually been. In the end, I found I hadn’t needed to worry about the story getting twisted, as Guillermo related most of it back to me.

  To hear Osvaldo tell it, on Wednesday night he’d gone to sleep not on the living room sofa but rather in the two-person glider on the front porch where he and Carmelita often spent time. He’d been sad about Carmelita needing to leave for her surveillance assignment at Jeanie’s, and as soon as Guillermo left to visit Josefina, Osvaldo had gone to sleep with Perdida curled up next to him.

  He’d been awoken by a car pulling up to the house with its lights off but hadn’t moved from his spot when a figure emerged from the car and approached the house. Frightened, he had sat still, continually petting Perdida to keep her calm as the driver circled around to the back of the house. He grew even more fearful when he heard the person moving around inside, but he forced himself to look through the front window, following a flashlight beam moving around inside. When the light revealed the intruder picking up Klaus Lang’s book from its place atop the radio where Guillermo usually kept it, Osvaldo wanted to run to his mother’s house and get Guillermo, but he was also afraid the thief would be gone before they could get back. Knowing how valuable the book was to Guillermo’s work, he forced himself to stay and watch.