[Shelby Alexander 01.0] Serenity

by Craig A. Hart

  “Well, you know how to ruin a day,” the voice on the other end said.

  “Glad to hear it,” Shelby replied.

  “I have to admit, I’m surprised to hear from you. I figured you’d have been killed by a jealous husband by now.”

  “Better to be lucky than good,” Shelby said. “How’ve you been, Mack?”

  “Okay for an old shit. You?”

  “Same. Dodging bullets, as of late.”

  “You don’t say. Real ones?”

  “Real enough to take out my freezer door.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  “They shot at me through the window. Slug punched through the freezer door on the fridge.”

  “That wasn’t very considerate.”

  “And I had stocked up on frozen dinners.”

  “Set them outside,” Mack said. “If it’s been as cold up there as it has here, they’ll keep better on the porch anyway.”

  “It’s been even colder. Although we’ve hit a thaw lately.”

  “So what I can I do for you, Shel?”

  “I was hoping to get some information. You still keep in touch with any of the law enforcement guys down there?”

  “A few. They’re dropping like flies, though. A downside of getting old. All your friends start dying.”

  “I have yet to find an upside to getting old.”

  “I thought you had a perky thirty-year-old taking care of you. Did she finally wise up?”

  “No, she’s still around.”

  “Never could figure that out,” Mack said. “You couldn’t get the hot ones when you were young. Now you’ve got one foot in the grave and can’t keep them off you.”

  “Better to be good than lucky.”

  “What information are you after?”

  “Looks like a gang from downstate has set up shop in the area. It’s pissing off the local dealers and they’re on the brink of a gang war.”

  “Gang war? In Serenity?”

  “I’ll admit it’s nothing compared with Detroit, but innocent people could get hurt. Already have, as a matter of fact.”

  “And you want to get in the middle of it.”

  “I already am.”

  “Right. The sniper.”

  “And I might have accepted some money.”

  “Christ.”

  “The guy who paid me is now dead.”

  “Double Christ. He one of the innocent ones?”

  “Not quite. But he didn’t deserve having his face carved off with a knife.”

  Mack whistled. “Sounds interesting. I can ask around for you, see if anyone has heard of a gang expanding to your area. I doubt I’ll come up with anything, though. Say, better yet, why don’t I come up there for a few days?”

  “You? Come to Serenity?”

  “Why not? I’ve been meaning to get away for a while. The wife is driving me nuts ever since retirement. And she always liked you. I think she was more upset about your divorce from Helen than you were.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to stay, but I can’t guarantee you won’t be shot while you’re here.”

  “It would be like old times,” Mack said. “I’ll head up early tomorrow.”

  Shelby hung up and sat back in the chair. His mood had brightened, as it almost always did after talking with Mack. He wondered why he didn’t call his friend more often, and then remembered it was because men didn’t call one another for no reason. It had to be under the guise of something else, a problem or project that needed addressing.

  He had known Jerry McIntyre for decades. He and Helen had double dated with Mack and his wife Gloria, and the couples had gotten married two weeks apart. Their circle of friends had predicted Mack and Gloria would be the ones divorced, given their propensity for volcanic fights, but they had somehow managed to stay together. Shelby wondered if the fighting had something to do with it. He and Helen had almost never fought, at least not like that, but let the anger and resentment fester. Maybe fighting was good therapy. And Mack had had plenty of external stresses. His job as a Detroit police officer had been as tough as they come, even back then, although Mack always thanked his lucky stars he was off the street before the city truly went to hell. After twenty years with the department, Mack had gone into private investigation, a more lawful version of Shelby’s vocation. His preference for staying on the right side of the law was not from some sense of innate morality. As he explained to Shelby, “I have a family to think of.” And, even though that explanation stung a little, Shelby had to admit it had credence. By the time he fully assumed his own shady “fixer” role, he had split from Helen, and Leslie was living fulltime with her mother, leaving Shelby free to do as he pleased.

  Shelby hadn’t seen Mack in some time, at least five years, and wondered what it would be like to have him around. Mack had never been to Serenity, had always joked about small towns, and been shocked when Shelby announced he was moving back. “I thought you left for a reason,” he’d said. “Now you’re going back? Doesn’t that seem depressing, like you’re going home to die?”

  Shelby grinned. He could always depend on Mack to put a dark spin on anything. If you handed him a hundred-dollar bill, he’d wonder how much bacteria was on it. It wasn’t mere dissatisfaction or ungratefulness, though. Shelby suspected being in law enforcement had trained Mack to always expect the worst until proven otherwise.

  15

  Mack arrived precisely at ten the following morning.

  “You must have left at the ass crack,” Shelby said, meeting him at the door and taking his travel bag.

  “The drive wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be,” Mack said. “I thought it was a lot longer. If I’d known, maybe I would have visited sooner.”

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Jesus, you live out in the sticks. Don’t you ever feel cut off from civilization?”

  “Constantly.”

  “I guess that’s the point,” Mack said. He held out a plastic shopping bag. “I brought steaks. Thought we could fry them up for lunch. It’s a little early, but I’m starved.”

  “Sounds good. Here, I’ll throw them on.”

  “I can do it,” Mack said. “Gloria sent me with a killer steak rub I want to use.”

  “Did she give you any hell about coming up here?”

  “Not a shit’s worth. I told you, she’s a fan of yours. I can’t think why.” Mack waved him off. “Go ahead and chill. I can take this.”

  While the steaks cooked, Shelby brought Mack up to speed on events. The ex-cop listened and nodded, occasionally turning the steaks and applying the rub.

  “You’ve stepped in it good this time,” he said once Shelby had finished. “On the way up, I kept wondering why you didn’t go to the cops. But it sounds like this new guy, Wilkes, is something of an ass. Not to mention you’ve taken a pile of cash under the table from the leader of the local drug ring.”

  “Now deceased. Don’t forget Wilkes is suppressing info about the dead girl, whose murder was what started all this in the first place.”

  “I think what started it was you taking the ten grand.” Mack scooped the steaks onto plates and handed one to Shelby. “You ever met this Wilkes?”

  “No, I haven’t.” Shelby got out some beers and set them on the table. “I went to see him the other day, but he was out ‘on rounds,’ the receptionist said. I haven’t tried since because I’ve been a little busy and, well, you know I’m not a fan of cops in general. You’re about the only one I’ll be seen with. That and a local sheriff’s deputy who, while a bit square, is a decent sort.”

  “You flatter me, sir. How’s the steak?”

  “Delicious. Pass on my thanks to Gloria. That rub almost makes up for your terrible cooking.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying steak and beer.

  “You hear anything from Helen lately?” Mack asked.

  Shelby raised an eyebrow. “That was out of nowhere.”

  “Sorry if it’s
still a sore subject.”

  “No, not really. An unexpected one.”

  “You can thank Gloria for that too. She always hoped you two would get back together.”

  “Jesus Christ. Has she been talking to Leslie?”

  Mack shook his head. “Not that I know of. Why?”

  “She’s been harping on that as of late. Not getting back together, but she frets that Helen and I aren’t on friendlier terms.”

  “Gloria’s always been something of a romantic.”

  “Leslie found out about Carly.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’d she take it?”

  “Not well. But better than if she knew the age difference.”

  “Ah, so she doesn’t know she’s the same age as your lover.”

  “Thanks for making that clear.”

  Mack grinned over his beer. “My pleasure. Or yours, really. I might make a couple snide remarks, but it’s because I’m jealous. Not that I could keep up with a woman that age. Must be your athletic background.”

  “Some men are born lovers.”

  They had a good laugh over that and decided to adjourn to the living room with more beer.

  “You know,” Mack said once they were resituated. “You’re going to have to take out these dealers some way. Either by going to the sheriff and convincing him to do something or confronting them yourself. You can’t live in fear of being shot from every shadow.”

  “I have no intention of involving the law.”

  “That would definitely invite all manner of questions,” Mack said. “Of course, it would be safer, assuming you could convince Sheriff—Wilkes, is it?—to investigate.” He tossed back the rest of his beer. “Damn, Shel, we should drive out to that place and take a look around. I brought my .45 and I’m assuming you have a piece around here somewhere, although why you didn’t start carrying it the day after someone tried to shoot you in your own kitchen is beyond me.”

  “You really want to go scouting out there?”

  “Maybe it’s the beer, but yes. I didn’t come up here to sit around your house and talk to you all day. What are we, old women?”

  “It’s a terrible idea, but I’m game. Let me grab my gun and we’ll head out.”

  “We’d better take my truck,” Mack said. “From what you said, they know what your vehicle looks like. We don’t want to meet them on the road.”

  16

  They saw no one on the road. As they approached the turnoff to the dealers’ cabin, Shelby motioned for Mack to drive past it.

  “Don’t tell me we’re going to hike it,” Mack said. “I didn’t come prepared for that.”

  “The road leading up to the cabin is barely wide enough for one vehicle. If they came up behind us, we’d be trapped.”

  They stashed the truck at the gated entrance to a public park, then skirted the fence and began walking back toward the cabin through stands of trees. It wasn’t long before Mack was out of breath and lagging behind. Shelby stopped to let him catch up.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Do I sound all right?” Mack wheezed. “I thought I was in decent shape, but tramping through this wet snow is taking it out of me.”

  “Think how happy Gloria will be when you tell her you finally got some exercise.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if you two arranged this whole thing.”

  “We’re not far now. Keep the faith, Mack. I don’t plan to start anything, but I don’t want you dying before I might need you.”

  Mack continued doggedly and, to his credit, kept quiet about his suffering. It reminded Shelby of the one time he’d taken Helen camping. She had been one of those people who loved to sit around and spew new age tripe about nature but hated actually being in it. Her conviction that nature brought you into contact with your oneness disappeared when the first insect buzzed around her head, and she demanded to be taken home. That memory was in stark contrast to this experience. Although Mack was clearly not a naturist, he was keeping his mouth shut.

  The cabin appeared through the trees and Shelby led the way to it. It seemed quiet—no bloodthirsty gunmen, no blaring music.

  “See anyone?” Mack asked.

  Shelby shook his head. “No. Looks deserted.”

  Mack exited the tree line, moving at an angle so his approach would keep him out of direct line with the nearest window.

  “Mack!” Shelby hissed.

  Mack waved him quiet. Shelby shrugged and waited. His friend wasn’t a greenhorn and had survived in some of the most dangerous neighborhoods of America’s most dangerous city. If he wanted to risk his life in the emptiness of northern Michigan, he had a right to do so.

  Mack made it to the window and, much like Shelby had done before, slid along the wall until he could take a quick look inside. He scanned the interior and then waved Shelby on.

  “I think we’ve hit the jackpot. It looks to be empty,” he said once Shelby had made it across the clearing. “If you were interested in taking a look around, now would be the time.”

  “You’re okay with a little breaking and entering?”

  “You see me wearing a badge?”

  “I remember you as a law and order guy.”

  “Had to be. Now let’s do what we came to do before it gets a lot more risky.”

  They moved around to the front of the cabin and tried the front door. It was locked, of course, but not benefitting from master craftsmanship, and they easily forced the lock without doing major damage.

  “Not big on housekeeping, are they?” Mack said. “Gloria would feel compelled to straighten up before we left.”

  “Then it’s lucky she’s not along,” Shelby said. “Come on. Let’s look for anything that might tell us who these guys are.”

  Mack began moving around the room. “How interested are you in covering your tracks?”

  “I don’t want to make it too obvious,” Shelby said. “With a little luck, they won’t notice those little scratches on the door and as long as we leave their mess how we found it, they may never know we were here.”

  “They’re after you anyway, aren’t they?”

  “You make a good point. Still, let’s try to keep them guessing.”

  The drawers and cabinets held nothing of interest, except a couple of pistols in the silverware drawer that they left undisturbed after Mack made a note of the serial numbers.

  “Might be able to get these run through the system,” he said.

  Shelby pointed to a deep freeze on the far side of the cabin. “You check in there?”

  “Not yet. I figured to save it for last. Probably full of venison or something.”

  “Not without being plugged in.” Shelby picked up the loose electrical cord. “If there is meat in here, opening it is going to smell up the whole place.”

  “No stone unturned,” Mack said, walking over. He flipped up the lid.

  The freezer was packed to the top with bags and bags of meth. Mack and Shelby stood staring at it for a moment, then Shelby reached in and pulled out a single bag.

  “Holy shit,” Mack said. “I’m not sure exactly what we were looking for, but I’d guess this was it.”

  “We found their stash all right. This must be the product Harper Ellis told me was turning up all over the area.”

  “What’s your move?”

  Shelby shoved the bag inside his coat. “Let’s rearrange these other bags to hide the one missing. Then we’ll get the hell out of here and go see Wilkes. Maybe if he’s confronted with this type of evidence, he’ll realize he has bigger problems than the Ellis clan.”

  “You want company?”

  “Sure. Maybe having another cop there will lower his defenses.”

  17

  The sheriff’s car was in the lot around the side of the station when Shelby and Mack pulled up and parked.

  “Looks like he’s home,” Shelby said.

  “Have you met the guy?”

  “No. I’ve seen h
im around, that’s all. Young guy. Sleek, prep-boy handsome. Looks like he ought to be working traffic in Grand Rapids or something.”

  “His dad a state congressman?” Mack asked, his voice laden with disdain. “I know the type. They never wanted to move up the ranks. But giving a kid that much authority without the balls or street experience to back it up isn’t doing them any favors.”

  “It sounds like Wilkes has balls, at least,” Shelby said. “Maybe not brains. He isn’t old enough to have experience. He probably only recently learned to wipe his own ass.”

  They walked up to the door and were almost knocked over when it swung open suddenly and with great force. Norman Evans ran out. He saw Shelby and muttered an apology but didn’t stop.

  “Watch it, asshole!” Mack yelled after him. He turned to Shelby. “You know that little weasel?”

  “Yeah. Norman Evans. He’s a strange guy. Has a stand of maples not too far from my place.”

  “Is he always in such a hurry?”

  “Actually, no.”

  They walked inside and were greeted by the receptionist’s chirpy greeting.

  “I see Wilkes’s car is parked outside,” Shelby said. “We’d like to see him.”

  “Oh, Sheriff Wilkes is quite busy today.”

  Shelby sighed and leaned forward, his forearms on the counter of the reception desk.

  “Look, Karen—”

  “Kylie.”

  “Right. Sorry. Look, Kylie. We’re going to see Sheriff Wilkes today. So you can either ring him and let him know he has visitors or we’ll show ourselves back. Okay?”

  Kylie glared at him but seemed to sense this was a losing battle. She picked up her phone, dialed, and waited. Then:

  “Sheriff Wilkes? Two ‘gentlemen’ here to see you.”

  Mack nudged Shelby. “Did she do air quotes?”

  “I believe she did.”

  Kylie hung up. “Sheriff Wilkes said he’ll be right out. You can take a seat.”

  “Thank you ‘so’ much,” Shelby said, returning the air quotes.

  They waited for about ten minutes before Wilkes made his grand entrance through the door beside the reception desk. He exuded an air of confidence and the strong smell of cologne. His dark, thick hair was meticulously coiffed and his face was so clean shaven it appeared to be absolutely beardless. Perhaps it was, Shelby mused. That could explain a few things. Men who could not grow decent beards were not to be trusted.