“No, no, no!” I say quickly, shaking my head. “Absolutely not, we are not telling your mother. We are just going to sit here quietly and listen.”
She freaks out into a fit of muttered words. Clearly, she is in no mood for the coffee I was talking about earlier.
“OK so you have to tell me literally everything,” she says. “Actually, no don’t tell me everything if you give me any kind of details like kissing or sex I will literally vomit in the backseat of your Volvo,” she says swallowing hard and closing her eyes as if she’s already suppressing the urge.
“You know what, we are just going to start off with a simple yes or no questions. I can handle that. Are you dating my dad?”
Swallowing hard, my hands tight on the wheel, I nod in affirmation, yes.
“Have you been dating my dad longer than twenty-four hours?”
Again, I nod my head.
“Jesus,” she gasps. “Have you been dating my dad for more than a month?”
I shake my head.
“OK,” she huffs. “Well at least there’s that.” She sits quietly for a moment before saying, “I know you always used to say that I had the hottest dad in school.” She shakes her head. “I always thought it was a joke though.”
I nod my head and shrug a little. I did say that a lot in high school. It’s true he really was the best looking dad in the school. I don’t know if she means to say it out loud, but she mutters, “Your dad is kind of hot too in that bad boy kind of way.”
“My dad? You’re kidding?” I laugh, not fully believing her. “I guess my dad does have that certain bad-boy appeal. It would be funny if we created each other stats.”
We both laugh really hard for a moment before we stop and stare at each other. “That would make us best friends, stepsisters, and stepmoms,'' I say, slowly raising my brow.
“Yeah, I guess that is a little wild,” she agrees shaking her head. “Then again, we are in Wyoming which isn't exactly Kentucky but it’s definitely not Connecticut either.“
She glanced back over at me. “I'm happy for you Lizzy,'' she says, leaning over and resting her drunken head on my shoulder. “I really truly am.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “That means a lot to me, I know this whole situation isn’t an easy one to accept.”
“Not initially, no,” she says, shaking her head before smiling again. “And I’m not saying it isn’t going to be weird because it will be. But I'm glad you told me. It sure as hell beats coming home and finding you guys in bed together.”
“God,” I say with a laugh, shaking my head, “that would be so horrible and I’m pretty sure your dad would be mortified.” She laughs, shaking her head.
Just then, my phone begins to ring. “Hey, it’s my dad,” I say reaching down to pick up the phone. “Yes, is everything okay?” I ask. His voice is strange and tired.
“Have you been drinking?” I prod but I still don’t understand his response. “I’m sorry Dad, I don’t understand what you were trying to tell me. Can you say that again?”
“Lucy,” he says, his voice harsh. “I need your help. I need you right now. I don’t have much time.”
“Okay, done. What is it?” I say the words coming out quickly wondering what this could be.
“I need you to meet me at my apartment, then go to the warehouse. You know the one just downtown. Meet me as quickly as you can.”
“Okay,” I say, “but I need to drop Charlie off at home first.
“Sure, okay,” he concedes. “Just hurry. I can’t wait much longer.”
“Okay,” I say, putting my foot down and accelerating quickly. I hang up and put my phone back in my purse.
“What is going on?'' Charlie asks, her voice full of concern.
“I’m not sure, my dad sounds like he’s in trouble. I’m going to drop you off at home and drive over to his apartment. Are you going to be alright alone tonight?” I ask her, reaching over and brushing her hair behind her ear.
“Yeah of course I’m going to be fine,” she says smiling at me now. “Just take care and tell him hi for me.”
Later
* * *
“Hey Dad,” I say, opening the door and calling into the hallway.
“Lucy, come quick!” he says, his voice low and ushering me in.
I close the door behind me. I turn and see a dimly lit room. My father is pacing back-and-forth as he runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t have a lot of time, I need you to listen to me,'' he says, “I need you to put on this jacket, and at midnight, I need you to go to the warehouse downtown.”
“Why the warehouse,” I ask confused.
“Please don’t ask any questions. The less you know, the better.”
“Okay,” I say, and nod slowly. My stomach is tightening as I think about what the warehouse he owns downtown used to be used for.
“Listen carefully. In the warehouse there’s going to be a single light, in the very center of the room. It’s perfectly safe. All I need you to do is walk into the warehouse, pick up the package in the light, and leave as quickly as you can. Keep your head down, keep your eyes up, don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone just take it and run.”
“Okay Dad, you’re asking a lot of me and I need to know what the hell this is all about. Are you involved in drugs again?” I demand, my face flushing with anger.
“Lucy, I don’t wanna talk to you about that right now,” he says in his voice firm. “I just need you to help me, I hardly ever ask anything of you. Just do this one thing for me.”
“You hardly asked me to do anything for you? I put my hands on my hips. “What you’re asking me is huge. Do you understand what I am risking? I'm going there involving myself to save your skin because you can’t stay clean?”
“I’m not a drug addict,” he protests, turning away from me and looking at the picture of my mother and my sister that he keeps on the small bookshelf in this tiny apartment. “Believe me Lucy, I’m not doing drugs. I just need you to trust me and please go to the warehouse and pick up the package and bring it back here. Can you please do that for me? I would do it if I could, but I can’t. It’s too risky I don’t want people to be getting the wrong idea about me. I need to straighten up.”
Chapter Ten
KENTON
Kenton
* * *
It’s nearly midnight, as I follow the nineteen-year-old punk to the warehouse. That kid is more nervous than anyone I’ve ever seen, and I have seen a hell of a lot of people nervous and strung out on drugs. “He needs to calm down and take a breath before he blows this entire thing for us,” I mutter as I park my car down the road, where I first found the boys standing around looking for potential clients for the drug deal hours earlier.
When I first met the punk, I was worried that I wasn’t able to properly put the fear of God into him. Kids like him just don’t seem to realize the true remedy of the situation that they are in. A simple arrest isn’t enough. Most of them think they will be able to get off without a hitch, or that life will somehow carry-on as normal, and they will be able to stroll right back out the door of the station. The truth of the matter is very different. People who do drugs go to prison. Lives are wasted, and I don’t want that for these kids, even punk kids like Chip.
I’m grateful the kid was even born to try to take this opportunity to make a difference in the lives of the people in this town. Anyway, I suppose he is sacrificing his own at this point, but if we are being totally honest with each other, Chip’s life was over the day he chose to pull a gun on me.
At least now he is able to do something useful with what little time he has left as a free man. Normally, I would be scared that a guy like Chip would double-cross me. He seems like a typical opportunistic, scared kid with nowhere else to go who turns to a man like Noah looking for signs of comfort or appreciation or anything remotely resembling a father figure.
However, Chip has a monitor on him that is linked to my phone. The monitor allows me to watch his every
move as he begins the cash drop.
God, I hope he doesn’t fuck this up. I don’t like having to rely on other people to get things done. In fact, I don’t like having partners at all. I’m more of a solitary guy. One who would rather work alone and be alone. Perhaps that was why I waited so long to be with someone after my divorce. Now that I have Lucy, I still have a hard time letting her in. My family is the same way I suppose. I’m not someone accustomed to having someone that I can rely on, so it makes sense that I have a solitary lifestyle. I hope that one day when this is all over, I can make real progress in my relationship with Lucy. For the first time in my life, there is someone who matters more, well not more, but as much as my darling daughter, Charlie. I just need to get through this case.
Tapping my fingers impatiently on the dash, I close my eyes and shift focus to stay calm. This could be my first real breakthrough in a long time, and I want to find out once and for all if this has something to do with Noah Knight.
Part of me hopes that it is not Noah, simply because I don’t want to upset Lucy. I know how difficult it is to lose someone close to you like that. And I don’t want her to have to suffer any more than she already has. She suffers enough because of her father. I don’t want to be someone who brings out pain in her life. However, if it is Noah, I don’t think I will have a choice.
Maybe I’ll get lucky. If it isn’t Noah, then Lucy will live a happy life finally free of the turmoil that her chaotic family causes her. Also, if it’s not Noah, then I still have someone else to chase after. Reaching down and adjusting the gun on my hip, I double-check that a bullet is in the chamber. I like the chasing, it’s something I am good at. I am good at protecting people, ones that I care about.
I care most for Charlie and Lucy, so I will do everything I can to protect them and this town.
Sliding out of the truck and closing the door, I click the lock and cross the street. I stay in the shadows so as to avoid being seen by potential onlookers. The air is uncharacteristically hot for an evening, even in the summer. I wore the wrong shirt for a sweltering stakeout. Hopefully, this will prove to be worth the discomfort.
There is no moon in the sky tonight. Streetlights are flickering in the houses like Erie Haye’s over the small Wyoming town. Honestly, it is a perfect night for such devilish things. Believe me this is not the way I planned to spend my evening. I was going to set aside time for Lucy. In fact, the image of her disappointed face comes to mind, and I feel it’s out of guilt. Lucy deserves better than all of this.
Then I remember the pictures she sent me earlier tonight. They were… incredible to say the least. I’m going to have to spank her though for teasing me like that. I want to know exactly where she was going in a dress like that. I shake my head to get it back in the game. Now is not the time to be thinking about that tiny scrap of panties I could see in the first picture she sent me.
Creeping forward, keeping to the shadows in the entrance of the warehouse, I sit and wait for a moment. I can see Chip in the distance, he’s not too far away. His lopsided baseball hat is a dead giveaway. I will never understand the fashion of teenage boys these days. I am only glad that it is not something that seems to appeal to my daughter. I think I would have an aneurysm if she brought home some hooligan who thought he was a gangster.
As I go to stand up my flashlight slips and crashes to the ground. I hold my breath as I look around to make sure no one else heard. Chip freezes too, obviously hearing me, and I wonder if he is going to try to bail on me and pretend he forgot about tonight’s stakeout. “No such luck, Chip,” I whisper.
There is a lot hanging on tonight, and although we all wish the days like these were bad dreams, reality is much darker. We must live with the consequences of our actions: something that Chip will soon find out as he bends over and lowers the package of money. It hits the ground with a “thunk” that echoes through the dark warehouse.
So far so good. A single hanging lightbulb snaps on and swings ominously with the force. I watch as Chip stands in the middle like the star of some twisted play. I wonder how this all seems to him? He’s like the main character of a dark drama. Is he waiting for some monster to come from the dark and attack him? Well there are no monsters here, only men. Although if there was something I’ve learned from my line of work, it is that men can be the worst monsters of all.
Come on, Chip don’t do anything stupid. The young man stands there uncomfortably for a moment, adjusting his ball cap before turning away and leaving the small package under the single light in the giant warehouse.
Chip stands in the shadows for a bit longer looking around the dark room. I don’t think he sees me. I don’t think he can see anything; it’s too dark.
What is he waiting for?
He can’t sell me out without selling himself out too. And I know from personal experience that the drug community is not a forgiving one. They will never forgive him for leaving a drop here or for getting them in trouble in the first place. It is something that he will live with for the rest of his life. He will be labeled as a traitor, a narc, a snake. My only hook now is that he will use their immediate repulsion of him to get away and find a new life. Yes, he will go to prison first; however, he will have time in prison to himself to get counseling and even attend college classes. Perhaps, it is unfair to taxpayers, the Chip’s of our world undoubtedly will be given an opportunity to move forward in life. While they struggle daily for that same help and education. But for better or for worse, this is the America we live in.
Chip stands for another long moment, and the hairs on my neck begin to rise as I wonder if he has in fact decided to double-cross me. But if this all turns out to be some kind of twisted game. I won’t go down without a fight. Bullets flying and guns blazing is how I would end. However, no one comes. Chip stands a little longer before turning away and walking out the opposite door he came in.
Time passes slowly as my legs go numb beneath me. I’m not sure what time it is anymore. I am afraid to check my watch or fear that the glow of the digital clock will alert Noah that I am here and I am watching. There’s too much at stake today to risk even that. Time creeps forward slowly, dragging on as my eyelids are heavy, and I fight to keep them open. Oh, how badly I wish I were in bed with Lucy right now. I should be home in her bed. Her arms and legs tangled around mine, getting messy the way only two lovers really know.
As I hear Lucy’s voice in my mind, the memory plays back our days together talking and laughing and having sex by the lake. The memories blend together, it’s hazy and seems that they quickly form into dreams. Before I know it, I am dreaming with my eyes open.
A shuffling sound breaks through the darkness surrounding me and snaps me out of the strange sleep. It is so dark; I can’t tell where the sound came from. But there’s something I am quickly becoming aware of. I am not alone.
There’s someone here with me. I can’t say who for sure. If only the warehouse or the entire street for that matter had surveillance footage. That’s the sad side of being a law enforcement officer in a small town. There are never enough video cameras or footage to catch the criminals in the act.
As a result, I am left to use my eyes to try to determine what is happening here in the dark.
My eyelids are heavy as I struggle to keep them open and looking for more signs of life as I reach for my small container of coffee. I never seem to bring enough coffee for these things.
The floor creeks under the pressure of steps. There is definitely somebody moving over there. It’s slow and subtle at first. The darkness making it difficult to see anything. However, I hear footsteps for sure. They are light, likely from a teenager, or maybe even a woman? Choosing a teen or a woman makes the most sense simply because they are the least likely to be reported. Whenever I get a call for suspicious characters not once has it been about a teenage girl or woman. And if I was a criminal, I’d want to choose the most unassuming person I could for the role.
My numb legs struggle to revive, and I
try to get a better view of the intruder as I squint into the darkness.
The body of the individual comes closer to the single light in the building. They aren’t fully visible but there is a definite outline that tells me a general shape.
Yes, it is definitely female. Annie Andrews perhaps? the small person stoops down and picks up the package, suddenly illuminated by the single bulb in the warehouse. The person stands there for moments and examines the package as if they are unsure of the contents. For a moment, it seems as if they will even open it for me. How strange, I wonder if it is a new kid to replace the ones I continually arrest?
The suspect slowly turns in a circle, and I get a better view of the individual. It is definitely a female based on the curves of the body. She has a slender girl’s frame with long legs and skin-tight jeans.
I need to get a better angle to look at the suspect, but I don’t know how far I can push it before they will notice my presence and run.
Rising quietly in the shadows, I walk around the edges of the warehouse, making my way to the door the criminal came from.
If I can cut her off, maybe I can try and talk to her like I spoke with Chip and arrange some kind of deal that makes her feel more comfortable talking to me. I don’t know if she has a gun or if she will be violent. And because I don’t know, I need to figure out if it’s okay for me to assume that she is innocent of these possible charges. I’ll have to decide later after I’m able to talk to her one on one. She has nothing to be afraid of. I am her friend and I want to help her get out of this wretched life that she leads.
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