Another Mother

by Rodney Riesel

  Dan fumbled for his phone. “Hold on,” he said. “Let me see where this place is.” He tapped the Google Maps icon and entered E.R. Bradley's. “Take a right.”

  As Richard went slowly around the corner, Dan glanced back down the alley. One of the guards was standing in the middle of the alley watching them. His hands were on his hips. Dan felt a cold chill run down his spine.

  “You think my yard is big enough for a pool?” Red asked.

  “Please shut up about the pool,” said Dan. “Take a left up here on Royal Poinciana Way.”

  Richard took the left and headed over the Flagler Memorial Bridge.

  “Take a left at the end of the bridge,” Dan instructed.

  “Are we almost there?” Red asked.

  “We're two minutes away,” Dan said. “Calm down.”

  “I'm starving.”

  “Of course you are.”

  “Oh, forgive me,” Red shot back. “How about if I don't talk about swimming pools or food.”

  “That's a good start.”

  “You're a dick.”

  “Boys, boys,” said Richard. “Play nice or I'll turn this car around.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Arriving at E.R. Bradley's, Dan, Red, and Richard walked up the concrete steps toward the outside bar that sat under a massive green vinyl canopy. Dan scanned the outdoor seating area to his left.

  “Three of you?” asked the tall thin hostess. She wore a black golf shirt with the buttons undone, and a pair of black shorts. Her gold name tag said Tammy. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

  “We're meeting someone,” Dan replied. His eyes settled on a young woman he recognized. “There she is.”

  “Okay,” said Tammy. “You can have a seat and I'll bring some menus right over.”

  The three men walked toward a round table underneath a giant thatched umbrella. Maggie Harrison recognized Dan right away and smiled like she was seeing an old friend.

  “Mr. Coast, I'm so glad to see you!” She stood and hugged him. Recognizing Red, she hugged him as well. She looked at Richard. “You weren't with them that night at the hotel.”

  “No,” Richard explained. “I'm Richard Bong, a … uh, friend of Dan and Red's”

  Maggie and Richard shook hands.

  “It's nice to meet you,” said Maggie. “Everyone sit down, please.”

  The men sat and a waitress soon arrived. She took their drink order and told them she would be right back.

  The outside dining area of E.R. Bradley's was on the opposite side of Flagler Drive, and over-looked the Intracoastal Waterway.

  “I was expecting a more private, out of the way meeting spot,” Dan said.

  “I thought it would be better to meet out in the open at a crowded, public place,” Maggie responded.

  “Why’s that?” Red asked.

  “Just in case,” said Maggie.

  “Just in case of what?” Dan asked.

  “You never know,” Maggie replied.

  The three men all looked at each other. Dan could see that Richard was a little nervous. He figured it was because Richard was a lot smarter than him and Red.

  “Maggie, that's a little vague,” Dan said. “What are you afraid might happen?”

  Maggie looked around the restaurant. “Well, it's like I told you, I think my father killed my mother and is blaming it on my boyfriend.”

  “Your boyfriend, Steve,” said Red. “The guy we met at the hotel in Haines City.”

  “Yes.”

  “What makes you think it was your father?” Dan asked.

  Maggie reached into her pocket book that was sitting on the floor next to her chair. She pulled out her cell phone and placed it on the table in front of her. “Because of a conversation I heard the night the police brought me home.” Maggie slid the phone across the table to Dan. “I recorded the whole thing.”

  Dan stared at the phone for a second and then pushed it back across the table. “Listen, Maggie, I have to be honest with you. I'm not a real private investigator. I have no license to do this sort of thing.”

  “Just listen to the recording,” Maggie insisted.

  “I don't want to.”

  Red picked up the cell. “Well I want to hear it.”

  “Put it down, Red,” Dan ordered.

  “You're not the boss of me.” Red pushed a button on the back of the cell and it lit up. “How do I listen to this thing?”

  Maggie took the phone from him and opened the recording app. “Just hit the play button,” she said, handing it back to him. “Just not too loud.”

  Red hit the play button and there was a few seconds of bumping and static. Then a man's voice came on. “I don't want that little bastard to make to trial. You understand me?”

  A second man said, “Yes, sir, Mr. Harrison. I understand.”

  “Where is he now?” asked the first man.

  “He's in the Haines City lock up. He'll be brought to the West Palm PD sometime tomorrow and processed. After that, he'll be taken to the Palm Beach County Detention Center.”

  “We have someone inside there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell him to do it quick. There's no reason for the little shit to suffer.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get that taken care of, and we'll only have one more to go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was another bumping sound.

  “Did you hear that?” asked the first guy. “Check out in the hall.”

  The recording stopped. Red sat the phone back down on the table.

  “That's when I turned it off and ran to my room,” said Maggie.

  “No one else knows about that recording?” Dan asked.

  Maggie shook her head. “No one.”

  “I really don't think we can help you,” Dan said.

  Maggie's eyes began to tear up. “Why not?” she asked. “In Haines City you told me if there was anything I needed, just to call you.”

  “But I didn't know it was something like this.”

  Red and Richard remained silent. Dan knew they both felt terrible, but he also knew they both agreed with him.

  “The only people who can help you are the police,” Dan advised. “There's nothing I can do. It's not like on television, or in cheap mystery books, Maggie. Regular people like us don't take on something like this.”

  “We drove by your house before we came here, Maggie,” said Red. “We saw the armed guards. It's obvious your dad is more than just a lawyer. We can't go up against people like that.”

  “You're scared,” Maggie surmised.

  “Damn right we're scared,” said Dan. “Mostly we take pictures of cheating husbands, and find missing people. We've caught a few murderers, but most of them were just regular people, not guys like your dad.”

  “And when we got into something really bad,” Red explained, “it wasn't by choice. It was usually by accident.”

  Maggie slumped back in her chair, and sighed. “I understand … I guess,” she said defeatedly.

  Red picked up her phone and handed it to her. “Go to the police.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking the phone.

  The waitress returned and asked, “Are you ready to order?”

  “I don't think we'll be eating,” Dan replied. “I'll just take another drink.”

  “What?” Red asked. “We're not eating?”

  “We won't be here that long,” Dan replied.

  “Give me another drink too,” said Red.

  “I'm good,” said Richard.

  The waitress looked at Maggie. “Miss?” Maggie shook her head.

  The waitress headed back to the bar.

  “Well if no one else is going to ask, I will,” said Richard. “Why would your father kill your mother, and why would he want you dead?”

  Dan shook his head in disapproval. He didn't want to know anything else about the girl's situation. He knew the more he heard the worse he would feel later for not taking the case.


  “Money?” said Maggie, as though she wasn't too sure.

  “Your father doesn't look like he's hurting for money,” said Richard.

  “Well, no, but maybe—”

  “This is for the police to determine,” Dan said.

  “I know,” said Richard, “but there must be a reason she thinks her own father would want her dead. I mean, it's not normal that a kid would think their parent wanted to kill them.”

  “He said 'two down, one to go.' I'm the one,” said Maggie.

  “How do you know that?” asked Red. “Maybe Steve did kill your mom, and now your dad wants to get even. I know I would.”

  “Why would Steve kill my mom?” Maggie asked.

  “Who knows?” said Dan. “But to us it's no more far-fetched than your father wanting to kill you. I don't know what's going on, and I don't want to.”

  Maggie picked up her phone and tossed it back into her pocketbook. “Fine,” she said. “Don't believe me. I'll just end up dead, and it'll be all your fault.” She stood up. “You'll see.”

  Maggie turned and stormed across the patio and down the steps to the street. The three men watched until she disappeared around the corner.

  The waitress returned and sat their drinks on the table. Dan grabbed his and downed half the glass.

  “I hope we did the right thing,” said Red.

  “Yeah, me too,” said Dan.

  “I should have got another drink,” Richard said.

  “You're the designated driver,” Dan reminded him.

  “Oh yeah.”

  The guys sat there for another twenty-five minutes or so feeling bad for what they had just done. After they finished their drinks Dan slipped a hundred dollar bill into the check folder. As he was putting his money clip away, he felt his cell phone vibrate. He looked at the caller ID.

  “Who is it?” Red asked.

  “I have no idea.” Dan laid the cell on the table.

  “Shouldn't you answer it?” asked Richard.

  “If it's important, they'll leave a message,” said Dan.

  The three men got up from the table and headed for the exit. They walked down the steps to Clematis Street and walked around the patio to Datura Street, where Richard had parked the car. Richard was first in line, then Red. Dan brought up the rear.

  “We're gonna have to stop somewhere and eat,” Red complained.

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Dan.

  Suddenly Dan felt someone behind him. He started to turn around, but before he could, he felt the hard steel barrel of a .45 in his back. He knew what it was immediately.

  “Do anything stupid and I'll split your spine,” said the gunman.

  “There should be a Wendy's around here somewhere,” said Red obliviously.

  The gunman grabbed Dan's shoulder with his left hand and steered him across the street. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan saw three other men. They were dressed like Harrison's guards. The three men hurried to catch up with Red and Richard.

  Red sensed the movement behind him and spun around. He saw one of the men moving quickly toward him. Red swung a left, hitting the massive man in the right cheek. The man took a step back and shook it off as the third man pulled his weapon.

  Red froze with his hands half in the air.

  Richard spun around. His eyes widened. The fourth guard grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him across the street and into a group of palm trees that sat between the Meyer Amphitheater and Datura Street.

  With the third guard's gun in his back, Red hurried across the street, arms held high. The brute Red had hit followed, scowling and massaging his cheek.

  The first guard shoved Dan up against a palm tree, and held him there with his forearm on Dan's throat.

  “Did I not leave a big enough tip?” Dan wheezed.

  “Shut up, asshole,” said the brute. He turned to see where his cronies were.

  Richard's man shoved him to his knees in the grass. Red's guy did the same to him. When the man Red hit reached the trees, he pulled out a chrome .44 revolver and smashed it against the side of Red's head. Red went limp and fell backwards into the grass.

  “Jesus Christ!” Richard shouted.

  The hulking gunman returned his weapon to its shoulder holster and wiped the blood from his cheek where Red had split the man's skin. “One more word out of you,” the gunman informed Richard, “and you'll get the same.”

  Dan's man returned his attention to Dan.

  “What do you want?” Dan asked.

  The man took out his weapon again and shoved the barrel up under Dan's chin. “Mr. Harrison wanted us to give you a message.”

  “An email would have been fine,” Dan said. “You really didn't have to—”

  He pushed the barrel harder into the soft tissue under Dan's chin, halting Dan's sarcasm.

  Dan moved his eyes downward to see Richard on his knees with a gun to his temple. Richard looked more scared than Dan had ever seen anyone look. He could see his hands and shoulders trembling with fear.

  “Go back to Key West,” said the man, “and never set foot in West Palm Beach again. Never speak to Mr. Harrison's daughter again. If you do, we'll kill all three of you and dump your bodies where they'll never be found. You understand me?”

  Dan nodded his head.

  “Let me hear you say it.”

  “I … under … stand,” Dan choked out.

  The man with his gun to Richard's head looked down at Richard and said, “We're counting on you to help him keep his promise.”

  Richard nodded and dropped his head. He stared into the grass until he heard the four men walk away. When he finally heard four car doors shut, he sat back on his feet, put his face in his hands, and began to sob.

  Dan's cell phone vibrated. “Hello?” he answered.

  “Dan, it's Joey Pantucco. Get out of West Palm as quick as you can. There's some men coming for you.”

  “A little late, Joey,” Dan said.

  “I tried to call you sooner, but you didn't answer.”

  “Go figure,” Dan said. “Thanks anyway, Joey. I'll call you back in a few hours.” He hung up his cell and slipped it back into his pocket.

  “So I take it the call was important,” Richard sobbed.

  Dan walked over and put his hand on Richard's shoulder. “Yeah, I guess I should have answered it.”

  “Ya … think?”

  Dan patted Richard's back. “Let it out, ya big wuss,” he said. “You're shaking like a dog shittin' peach pits.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Richard decided to let Dan drive his rented Passat back to Key West. Dan agreed, since Richard's hands were still shaking so hard he couldn't grasp the steering wheel. Red lay in the back seat with a small bag of ice they had purchased at Walgreens pressed against the side of his head.

  “How ya feelin', pal?” Dan asked.

  Richard and Red both answered, “Fine.”

  Dan adjusted the rearview mirror to see Red. “Still bleeding?” he asked.

  “No,” Red replied.

  Dan glanced over at Richard. Richard stared at the road ahead. “Havin' fun yet?” he asked.

  “Just glad to be alive,” Richard answered.

  “That's a plus in most situations.”

  “Weren't you scared?” Richard asked.

  “I almost shit my pants,” Dan admitted. “I think I may have peed a little.”

  “You were making jokes.”

  “That's because I'm an idiot, not because I'm fearless.”

  “He's right,” Red agreed. “He is an idiot.”

  “At least I didn't sleep through the whole ordeal,” said Dan.

  “At least I didn't piss myself,” said Red.

  “Barely any came out,” Dan shot back. “It's already dry.”

  “You're both idiots,” said Richard.

  “Ouch,” said Dan.

  “So, what now?” asked Red.

  “What do you mean?” Dan asked.

  “What are
we gonna do about Maggie Harrison?”

  “I know you slept through the entire thing, but Harrison's goons made it pretty clear that we're to stay away from Maggie Harrison.”

  “It just seems like there's something we should do.”

  “Drop it.” Dan's cell phone vibrated and he looked at the screen. “Unknown caller,” Dan read aloud.

  “Answer it!” Richard and Red shouted.

  “Yeah, maybe I better,” Dan agreed. “Hello?”

  “Dan, it's Rick,” said Chief Carver.

  “Hey, what's up?”

  “Can you talk?”

  “Um, give me ten minutes and I'll call you right back.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You in your office?”

  “No, but I will be in ten minutes.”

  Dan hung up his cell and his eyes went to the roadside signs ahead. “There's a Wendy's right up here off the Saint Lucie Boulevard exit,” he announced. “You want me to get off?”

  “Yes,” Red answered. “I'm starving.”

  “I don't know if I can eat yet,” said Richard.

  Dan flipped on his blinker and turned down the exit ramp. He took a left onto Saint Lucie Boulevard and pulled into the Wendy's parking lot.

  “You guys go on in,” said Dan. “I have to call Rick back.”

  “You got it,” said Red. He climbed out of the back seat still holding the bag of ice. He bent over and looked at himself in the passenger-side mirror. “Shit. That's quite a lump.” His right eye was starting to turn purple. He tossed the bag of ice back into the car through the open window, turned, and headed toward the entrance; Richard followed.

  Dan stayed in the car and dialed Rick's number.

  “Carver,” Rick answered.

  “Rick, it's Dan.”

  “I know. I got some information on your brother.”

  “Half-brother … maybe.”

  “Can I continue?”

  “I wish you would.”

  “His name is Richard G, Bong. I can't find anything that mentions his full middle name; just the G.”

  “It could stand for Gene, like my dad.”

  “I wondered about that myself. His story checks out. His parents are from North Vietnam. They did come to this country around the time he said they did. He is forty-six years old and he lives in Caplen, Texas. Caplen is an unincorporated community on what's called the Bolivar Peninsula in Galveston County. Richard lives in a very nice house right on the beach. The Bong family first settled in Houston, and a few years later they relocated to Port Arthur, where Kim worked at a local drug store. In the late seventies or early eighties, when the owner of the drug store retired, Kim Bong purchased the place.”