Memphis Legend

by Brian Crawford

  “I lied to you about the store window,” he said.

  I already knew he lied about the store window. Was that it? I thought he was going to tell me something bad. John was studying me trying to gauge my reaction. He resumed biting his lower lip again.

  “I know who broke your window.”

  “Who?”

  “Okay, I don’t know exactly who. More like I know why.” He paused again. His pauses were beginning to irritate me.

  “Is this important now? It was just a window.”

  “I think it might be.” More lip biting.

  “It relates to Paul somehow, doesn’t it?

  “Yes. And I’m afraid it might be related to last night as well.”

  “My window is related to Paul’s disappearance. Is that what you are trying to say?”

  “I think so. I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “John, please just spit it out. I made a promise to Ellie that I was not going to get involved any further than today. Please don’t make me angry with you by having to drag everything you know out of you one piece at a time, because my help might be more fragile than I care to admit.”

  “I’m sorry. I do appreciate your help. I guess I’m just scared.”

  “Don’t get scared, get angry. Then channel that anger. Trust me; few people know more about anger than me. I have been mad for 17 years. I am an expert on anger. Now tell me what you know…please.”

  John resumed talking, this time without any pauses. “I’ve been getting calls for a couple of weeks from some guy demanding payment to cover gambling debts that my son owes to someone down in Mississippi. He has called four times, and I have refused to pay each time. You found that brick in my office the morning after the second time I told the man no.”

  “That explains the note and your strange behavior that morning,” I said. He threw me a quick questioning glance. “I thought you were holding back information that day too. I figured you would tell me sooner or later. I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about that right now, just finish your story.”

  “Sorry. Paul doesn’t know that anybody called me. If he did know, then he never let on, and neither did I. My wife doesn’t know either. It seems the guy in Mississippi was not happy with the rate of repayment that Paul offered him, so he commissioned the fellow on the phone to collect it for him. He wanted me to cover Paul’s debt instead. He said that quick repayment would guarantee Paul’s continued good health. I refused to pay, but now I wondered if I made the wrong decision. Maybe this Eric guy was the one calling me demanding the payment. Maybe he took him hostage or something, or worse.”

  Despite my current indifference to my mother, I had loved and admired her once, and she had taught me that cursing demonstrated an inability to articulate your thoughts to others fully. It was very difficult to avoid cursing after hearing John’s confession.

  “Holy crap, John, you have a big problem.”

  “I know.”

  “A really big problem!”

  “I know. I know!”

  “You do realize Paul is caught up in organized crime, don’t you?” John was speechless, his mouth open but unable to form words. “You must realize that illegal gambling normally implies organized crime. Plus, this fellow down in Mississippi has enough clout that he commissions others to do his collecting. Sounds organized to me!”

  “Shit!”

  “You think. And if that meeting last night was planned ahead of time and Eric Parker is involved somehow, then it’s also possible his father is a dirty cop.”

  John jerked his head towards me while letting his foot off the gas. “Don’t you think that’s a pretty big stretch?”

  “Sure, but then so is thinking the meeting with Eric was preplanned. It seemed pretty spontaneous to me last night. But here we are a day after Paul goes missing and the Chief of Police has lied to us and sent men to run us out of town.”

  John was quiet, very quiet for a couple of minutes. He was soaking it all in, weighing the evidence, considering the ramifications. It was a lot to consider, especially for a parent. When he finally looked my direction, he was still quiet with a concerned, questioning look on his face.

  “I know, John. I’m sorry. I will still talk to Eric. It needs to be done. He will tell me something I promise. We have to find out if that meeting was prearranged. Either way, it’s even more obvious that we need some official police help.”

  “The man on the phone warned me against involving the police.”

  I said, “Sure he did. He wants his money, not trouble. In my opinion, you are going to have to call someone. ASAP. We both know Chief Parker isn’t going to be any help.”

  Talking my way out of the fight earlier was easier than convincing John that we needed police involvement. He kept making excuses. I did not want excuses; I wanted results. Investigating was one thing. That required asking questions, looking for clues, watching. If I did discover who was responsible for making threats against Paul, then we would need the police to administer the proper justice. I was not willing to be a vigilante, especially against the Chief of Police in a small town in Tennessee.

  CHAPTER 12

  I left John with a plan. A plan that I was going to make him deliver on, or I would not help him. We would need official help at some point. Maybe they would even be willing to take over the investigation if John and I were able to give them enough incriminating information. If we were lucky, someone was already investigating organized crime in that area. I just hoped Paul was okay. I prayed that this was still a missing person’s investigation and not worse.

  John begged me to allow him to pay for the broken window. I told him not to worry about it. Insurance covered it. He insisted. Realizing he was trying to thank me for my help, I finally allowed him to reimburse me the deductible.

  The intoxicating smell of rosemary, basil, and what smelled like cumin hit me as I opened the front door of my apartment. Maybe I was wrong about the cumin, but it smelled divine regardless; my mouth was slightly watering proving that the primitive Pavlovian response is not limited to just dogs. I quickly found the source of the smell. A slow cooking roast and vegetables. Near the roast was a note telling me that Ellie had gone for a run and that I should not eat without her. I hoped it tasted as good as it smelled.

  The whole incident at Emmettsville seemed to leave a dirty film on me. I knew it was psychological, but a good, hot shower could not hurt. While enjoying the shower, I contemplated my next move. John had a plan. I had a plan too, one that was in direct conflict with the promise I had made to Ellie earlier today. I hoped she would understand. I needed her to understand. Besides, I only anticipated talking to Eric and then letting the authorities taking over after that.

  I closed my eyes as I basked in the heat from the comforting spray. I could feel the tension washing from my body into the awaiting drain. Tension that had been building since last Tuesday; the day I stopped Tom Harty. Each day I expected news concerning Mr. Harty. Each day there was no news. He remained in a room hooked to a ventilator. His nutrients entered his body through a tube in his esophagus. A liquid formula complete with all the nutrients and energy he needed. A catheter was inserted into the urethra to collect his urine, and a large diaper to collect his number two. Various other wires and leads were applied to monitor his vitals. Finally, he still had that handcuff on his right wrist. His own personal purgatory.

  I came close to putting two more men into the hospital today. Better than the morgue.

  I was rinsing the shampoo from my hair when a cold draft hit my unsuspecting body. Something, or someone, had opened the shower door. I reacted in alarm. Instinctively, my muscles prepared themselves for a fight as my eyes fought to focus through the heavy steam. I could make out the silhouette of a person in the steam.

  It was Ellie. She was standing outside my shower with one towel wrapped loosely around her body, another towel on her head. She must have used the shower in the o
ther bedroom.

  Ellie said, “Holy cow, did I scare you?”

  “Momentarily startled is all.”

  “You going to stay in there all day? Food’s ready. I just need to get dressed, and we can eat.”

  I was peeking around the door to cover my nakedness from Ellie, who was still standing there like this was an everyday occurrence. It wasn’t, and I felt a little awkward.

  “Yeah, well, are you going to stand there all day gawking?”

  “Maybe. Lisa teased me about our level of intimacy. Could be I was just checking out what I’ve been missing.”

  I was not sure where the whole incident was going, but I did open the door a little more to give her a better look.

  “Ms. Marigold, it’s not much to look at; however, I want you to remember that I’m built more for performance than for aesthetics.”

  She blushed and turned away before the door was completely open. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder and started to leave the bathroom. I cleared my throat with a loud “Ahem” as she reached the doorway.

  She paused. Without turning around, she said, “I guess it’s only fair you get a small sample of what you’ve been missing as well.” With that, she dropped the towel giving me a wonderful view of her naked backside before leaving the room.

  Man, does she ever know how to make an exit.

  ***

  Ellie thought the day I ended Tom Harty’s rampage was a strange day. It paled in comparison to the one I was experiencing. Ellie slept over last night. That had never happened before. She cooked me dinner. Also a first. Then, the shower conversation and dropped towel. Definitely a first. Surprisingly, it had all seemed normal.

  That was the strange part.

  I could not help wondering where this was headed.

  Ellie was already dressed in a T-shirt and shorts as I entered my bedroom. No bra. The towel was still wrapped around her head. I dressed in a similar casual manner and walked out into my kitchen. Ellie followed and began serving the roast. My nose had been right; there was cumin in the roast. And plenty of vegetables. My kind of meal.

  I started to clear the table, but she protested. She insisted that I relax. I walked over to the living room area and sat in my favorite chair, reclining back while watching her move around in my kitchen. The T-shirt looked good on her. Real good. She was continuing the tease that she started in the bathroom, and she knew it. Once Ellie cleared the dishes and started the dishwasher, she walked over and sat on my lap giving me a big kiss.

  “Okay, sweetie, tell me how your day has gone.”

  “Oh, you know,” I said, “Weird, and getting weirder.”

  Ellie pushed herself off my lap and walked over to the couch. She plopped down. She looked happy. I hoped what I was going to tell her did not ruin that. I started with our visit with Chief Parker and ended by telling her about the six men. She was scowling by the end of my story.

  “I can’t believe the Chief sent them. My dad would be disappointed to hear this. The way he talks, the two of them are friends.”

  “Sorry, Ellie. I’m just telling you how I see it is all.”

  “I’m going to call my father tomorrow and tell him all this.”

  “Don’t do that just yet. No use causing trouble between friends if I am wrong.”

  She was still frowning. “I know I don’t live there anymore, but I hope you don’t have a bad image of my hometown in your head just because of the last 24 hours or so.”

  “How could I? It produced you and your wonderful family. Even the Garden of Eden had a snake in it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  Ellie asked, “So what’s John going to do?”

  “I told him to call his attorney friends and figure out who to talk to that might be able to help him. A D.A. or a state’s attorney, someone. Obviously, we can’t count on Chief Parker.”

  “We? You said ‘we.’ Was that purposeful?”

  “About that…”

  “Yes, about that. You promised me no further involvement after today.” She was giving me a disapproving look.

  “Sorry, Ellie, but I’m going to see this through a little longer. John needs me. His son needs me. And I haven’t been this mad in a long time. This is something I have to do.”

  “You have to! I’m not buying that for a second. You don’t have to get involved any further. You want to! Just give him advice or counsel, but stay out of the dangerous stuff.”

  “Who said anything about dangerous stuff?”

  Ellie said, “I suppose those six men outside the diner were not dangerous?”

  “That was not an ideal situation, but it was not all that dangerous.”

  “There were six of them!” She flared her nostrils as she yelled that last statement.

  “Ellie, I can tell you are getting mad at me, and I’m not trying to make things worse by telling you this, but you and I have different ideas on what is dangerous or not.”

  “You said yourself you were trying to avoid a fight with them.”

  “Ellie, I was trying my best to avoid a fight with them not because I was scared. I would have won the fight, no doubt. But I didn’t want to get arrested, and I was not going to let Virgil get arrested in a town that throws the ‘n’ word around so cavalierly. Besides, now I know what I am up against. I didn’t foresee Chief Parker as a threat. I won’t make that mistake again. I have to do this, Ellie.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Whoa, what’s going on here? You seem angry. What do you mean by that question?”

  “L.T., look at this from my point of view. You never talk about your past, except in little bits and pieces. In the last week and a half, I have found out you have broken up all kinds of fights; you were a Navy cop, sort of, and you don’t even feel the least bit threatened by six grown men threatening you. In fact, you are convinced you would have won that fight. Oh, and when you see a man waving a gun in a hospital, you run towards the guy and bash him on the head and take his gun away. Now you tell me that you feel like you have to? I just don’t get it.”

  There was genuine anguish on her face. It hurt me to witness it. Furthermore, I didn’t know how to fix it. How do you explain something that seems like it should not require an explanation? I was at a loss for words. Maybe I was over-analyzing the situation.

  “Ellie, I don’t know how to explain it, but I will try. Evil should not win, at least, not on my watch.”

  Damn it, Mom. See what your influence is doing to me.

  “That’s it? That is your big explanation?”

  “I feel like I’m involved in an argument that I cannot win. Or maybe, I should say that I feel that I could win, but it would come at too high a cost. I am not trying to be glib, but honestly, I wouldn’t even know where, or when, to start.”

  Ellie apologized for making the conversation sound like an argument. She asked if she could start over. I tentatively agreed. I could hear Virgil’s voice warning me that this would happen, warning me to let go of the situation and listen to my girlfriend. It was like his voice had become my conscience. I preferred my usual inner voice.

  Ellie stared hard at me for almost a minute before speaking again. “I have had a wonderful life. A beautiful family and now a wonderful job, but it has also been pretty privileged and sheltered. So I’m willing to admit maybe I’m the one being unreasonable. Now I have this great boyfriend whose secrecy is a mystery to me, and I’m not sure how much more of it I can take. Please convince me that I need to be more understanding.”

  “Okay, Ellie, I will try.”

  I went to the fridge and refreshed my iced tea. I was stalling, plus I figured my mouth might dry out if I was going to have to tell her my life story.

  “I have avoided talking about this long enough, and now seems like as good a time as any, so come sit on the couch.” She perched herself on the edge of the seat directly across from me and gestured her readiness with slightly lifted eyebrows.

&nb
sp; “You don’t know my parents. My dad is Marcus William McCain. He played 16 years as an offensive lineman in the NFL. Most people have never heard of him since the offensive line gets very little recognition; however, he was good, a pro bowl player. You know a little about football, so you know how big those linemen are.”

  She nodded.

  “Now you know where I got my size and strength. My mother was Ingrid Karlsen, a prima ballerina out of New York before she met and married my dad. She was also very good. According to Dad, she was even better at her craft than he was at his. So when I told you that I am a genetic freak, I meant it, because although I got size and strength from Dad, my mother gave me speed, agility, balance, and, actually, more explosive power. Not to mention no stinking body fat.”

  “So that explains why you look like a moppy-haired Thor. By the way, where did you get that mop of hair?”

  She was joking around. I hoped that was a good sign.

  “From my mother as well. She had a heck of a time pulling it back into a ballet bun. Mom was awesome. She quit the ballet when they got married, and believe it not, she taught my dad ballet, which helped his football career; in fact, he never made the pro bowl once until Mom helped him with his footwork and balance. They were a great couple and absolutely wonderful parents. You see, I grew up very privileged and loved, just like you did.”

  Ellie’s mouth was open in mild amazement. She was going to say something and then thought better of it.

  “Their impact in my life was more than just the obvious physical attributes. Do you remember how Lisa called me a maverick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I pale in comparison to my parents. I was a young kid when Dad quit football and started his own trucking company, Borders Trucking. You have probably seen some of his trucks on the roads before. He built his business into a multimillion dollar trucking company by doing something the other companies didn’t do. He not only cared about his employees, but he also cared for them. He was an industry leader in providing employee benefits like health insurance and retirement benefits for his drivers during a time when truckers were not treated that well at other companies. He always felt it was his responsibility to treat them like people, not commodities, and they loved him for it. When his partner didn’t agree with him, my dad leveraged everything he had, borrowed a lot of money, and bought the guy out. He took one hell of a risk, and it paid off.”