by G. K. Parks
“Like I told you when you agreed to work for us, Auto Protection Services will pay restitution for any damage or theft incurred during your employment with us. You’re completely indemnified from civil liability.”
“Fine.” It was time to move on to plan B. “In the meantime, see what kind of deal you can make to indemnify me from criminal charges too.”
Two
It was seven thirty a.m. when James Martin came down the steps. He was dressed in a designer suit, minutes away from leaving for work. Upon entering the kitchen, his smile brightened when he found me drinking a cup of coffee. Normally, I didn’t risk visiting him when I was working a job for fear he would get caught in someone’s crosshairs, but once again, I needed a favor.
“Look what the cat dragged in. Should I reset my security passwords?” he teased.
“It’d be easier to take your key back, instead of going through all that trouble.”
“Never.” He leaned down for a kiss, but I turned away. He pecked my cheek, confused. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, and I can’t even get a good morning kiss?” The hurt tone was hard to ignore.
“I’m catching a cold,” I lied. Even though it was imperative to lock lips with Tommy in order to maintain my cover, it still felt like cheating, semantics aside.
Martin was confused by my unannounced visit this early in the morning, especially when he had to leave for work soon. Despite the fact he was CEO of Martin Technologies, a multimillion dollar corporation, he knew I’d never ask him to take the morning off. We were both workaholics, and I often insisted that our careers came before our relationship. It was my way of excluding him from the dangers associated with my line of work.
Before the request formed on my lips, I reconsidered asking for one of his cars. He would bend over backward for me, but 100K was something I could never repay. My work as a private investigator and the occasional stint as a police consultant barely provided enough to afford the rent for my office space and my bills, and even though Islind promised to reimburse all affected parties, Martin shouldn’t be subjected to acting as my sugar daddy, even if it was just a temporary loan.
“So you just stopped by for a cup of coffee?” He sounded skeptical, popping a bagel into the toaster and pouring a glass of orange juice.
“Apparently.”
“Liar.” He put the juice down in front of me. “What’s wrong?” I shook my head, regretting showing up. “Are you still working a case?”
“Yes.” I slowly exhaled. “The reason I stopped by was to ask a favor, but it’s too much.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He smirked. “I’m game for most things, but oddly enough, I’m drawing the line at a threesome. While sexy in theory, someone’s bound to be left out at some point, and I have zero desire to share you with anyone.” The smile tugged at my lips, despite the juvenile nature of his comment. “Not to mention, we’d probably need a world-class athlete to keep up with the two of us,” his timbre lowered, “especially when it’s been a few weeks since we’ve spent any time together.”
“I need a car,” I confessed.
“Did someone shoot through your engine block again?”
“No,” I took a deep breath, “it’s for the job, and it has to be worth at least a hundred thousand.” He whistled and went to the toaster to retrieve his bagel. “Like I said, I changed my mind about asking. It’s too much.”
“Red or blue?”
“Whichever you like the least. There’s a good chance you’ll never see it again.”
“Blue then.” He went into the other room and came back with a set of keys. “I’m not entirely certain if you’re required to pay gift taxes on this, so we won’t report it to the IRS.” I shook my head, refusing to take the offered keys. “It’s just a car. I don’t have any particular attachment to this one. It came out this year and can easily be replaced.”
I hated doing this. “I’m almost certain you’ll be reimbursed for any loss or damage the vehicle sustains.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’d be committing insurance fraud if I report it stolen?” He was only teasing, but I put my finger to his lips to stop the banter.
“No. I don’t want it. I’ll figure something else out. I must have been out of my mind to come here and ask you this.” Hugging him, I hoped he would forget the whole thing; instead, he dropped the keys into my jacket pocket. “I can’t.”
“You will.” He looked into my eyes. “Although, I do drive a hard bargain. I’d like that kiss now.” As I looked away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek to get my attention. “I’m not worried about catching a cold.” How could I tell him I spent the past week making out with some slimeball car thief? He saw the guilt in my eyes and backed away. “Alexis, you’re scaring me a little.”
“This job’s starting to take its toll. There have been some questionable things that I’ve been forced to do, and it makes me sick.” Shifting my gaze to the ceiling, I couldn’t look at him.
“Like ask for a car?” Sometimes letting him believe he knew everything was the best plan. When it was over, we’d talk about it. “Really, it’s not a big deal, but I won’t force you to take it if it’s going to create friction between us.” He grinned. “And not the good kind of friction.” His gaze momentarily snapped to the clock on the wall.
“Get to work. I need to go home and sleep. I’ve been up all night.” Taking his car was the only real option, unless I stole another car, but there was no guarantee I’d be able to pull that off. This would solidify my status with Gregson and put me that much closer to closing the case. “You’re sure?” I held up the keys. My indecisiveness was giving me whiplash.
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll do my best to get it back to you in one piece.” Temporarily silencing my guilty conscience, I kissed him.
“Alex, just make sure you come back in one piece.” His tone held the slightest edge of worry and sadness. My career had the unfortunate habit of making relationships harder than they had to be.
“I love you, and it’s not because of your material possessions. I don’t want you to think I’m only with you because of this.”
“I know exactly why you’re with me.” He winked. “It’s my sculpture worthy physique, brilliant mind, and god-like stamina.”
“You forgot to mention your modesty and grace.”
“That goes without saying.”
He left for work in his chauffeured town car, and I elected to leave my car in his garage and drive the newly acquired sports car home. I just had to figure out where to leave it for pick-up tonight, but right now, I needed to get some sleep.
* * *
Before parking the sports car in the garage used by one of the more affluent five-star hotels in the city, I disengaged the security system. Martin was smart enough to utilize the best technology and most reliable security measures, much better than the crap my current employer was selling. Thankfully, I knew his codes from my days serving as his personal security consultant. Disconnecting the device, I removed all of the vehicle registration information and made sure there were no personal effects left inside. Considering he had a fleet of vehicles at his disposal, I wondered if he even drove this car for any real length of time. The interior was spotless, and the outside was polished to a reflective gleam. It was a pity it would be chopped.
Stopping inside the hotel, I gave the desk clerk Martin’s name since he kept credit cards on file at the most prestigious places in town and asked if it’d be okay to leave his car here for the evening. Flashing my old Martin Technologies ID card at the woman, she smiled and called for a valet. That was easy enough.
Hailing a cab, I went home and locked Martin’s vehicle documentation in my gun safe, changed into jeans and leather, and clipped on some earrings. I already had the scars from where a few extra holes had been punched through my body, courtesy of being shot and stabbed, so I didn’t have any real piercings. Hopefully, these expensive facsimiles would continue to go unnoticed b
y Tommy.
After applying some blood red lipstick and shimmery black eyeshadow with thick eyeliner, I hailed another cab and went to the hospital to pick up my rental. On the ride over, I left Martin a voicemail asking if Marcal and Bruiser, his driver and bodyguard, could drop my car off at my place when they got a chance. In the interim, there was always public transportation or taxis.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the caller ID. “Yo, Tommy,” I responded, laughing internally at my attempt to sound like a mobster’s lackey. “What’s going on?”
“Hi ya, babe.” He was flicking his lighter in the background. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake yet. I hope you had some sweet dreams.” There was something sleazy about his tone that grated on my nerves, but I ignored it.
“Always. Just dreaming of some fast cars and you. Do we have time to grab dinner before our scavenger hunt?”
“Music to my ears,” he replied. “Want to go to Franco’s and we’ll scope out the city after splitting a pizza?”
“Sure.”
“See you in thirty?”
“Can’t wait.”
Franco’s was a pizza and beer place a block from the bar where we first met. Since Tommy always tended to stay in the same neighborhood, apparently he never learned not to shit where he eats. Everything from Gregson’s repair shop, which I was certain doubled as a chop shop, to the bars and restaurants Tommy frequented were all within a ten block radius of his apartment.
Maneuvering into a spot that was half a foot too small for my car, I knew the two cars I parked between would curse and likely ding the front and back fenders, but it didn’t matter. The joys of having a rental. Maybe if Islind felt particularly generous, he’d reimburse the rental agency for the possible damage that was likely to occur.
When I stepped inside, Tommy was already waiting in a back booth. There were two pints on the table, and he smiled appreciatively, waving me over. He was anxious, and that was made obvious by the tapping of his fingertips on the tabletop. I wondered if it had to do with the impending heist or the promise of what would follow. Between now and then I had to find a way out of that potentially sticky situation, but like I insisted the previous night, work comes first.
We made small talk while we ate, and he pretended to be fascinated by my job transcribing medical records and filling out insurance forms. He asked dozens of questions about my family, friends, and hobbies. The former federal agent in me was wary of all the questions, but I reminded myself that as far as Tommy was concerned, tonight was the equivalent of the coveted third date. He wanted to appear attentive and interested, just like any suitor would. Still, I deflected the questions, knowing that anything I said would be a lie that I had to remember in the future.
After we finished eating, he offered to drive around and point out the hot spots for the rich and famous. We checked out some gated communities, the exclusive clubs and restaurants, a couple hotels, and the financial district. There were quite a few options available, but I needed to steer him in the right direction without giving away the plant.
“Hey, what about these hotels?” I asked as we went by some valet parking stands. “The problem with restaurants and businesses is no one’s around in the middle of the night. That means they won’t just leave their cars behind.”
“How many times have you done this?” he inquired, glancing out of the corner of his eye.
“Boosting cars?” I shrugged. “Not that often. I’m an upstanding citizen with a day job. The problem is the day job isn’t paying the bills ever since they cut my hours.”
“How did you get started?” He sounded suspicious, and I made sure to repeat the same cover story I used when we met.
“The guy I used to date was a car aficionado. He drove a fancy car and always had cash. I thought he was rich, and we’d get married. Turns out he was a thief. We had some fun, and he taught me a lot.” I sighed dramatically. “But the whole thing became so complicated. We’d boost a car, but unless a buyer was already lined up, we’d be stuck sitting on a hot ride for weeks. It was too dangerous.”
“What happened to him?”
“He got pinched on our seventh GTA. At least the bastard never gave me up.”
“I don’t imagine anyone would willingly give you up, babe,” he muttered, circling through another parking garage.
“What about that cute little silver number?” I asked, drawing his attention to a BMW.
“Good eye.” As he looped around, he pointed out a black Audi and a classic yellow Corvette. “But you got to pay attention to the security cams. There’s way too many in here, so we gotta look elsewhere.” We left that garage and checked three more before he drove into the right parking structure. “Hey, check out that royal blue number.” Martin’s sports car caught Tommy’s eye, like I thought it would. Men were so predictable, sometimes.
“Ooh, that’d be the perfect score.” Before he could point out the security camera posted on the wall, I pointed to the support pillar that provided ample cover. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it did, but I was insistent. “What’s the spot number?” I asked, making a pretense of scribbling down the location. Now the only thing left to do was pick up Martin’s car and take it to whatever location Gregson provided. With any luck, everything would go off without a hitch.
Three
Night had fallen, and Tommy and I were waiting for Robert to arrive. To pass the time, Tommy attempted to be suave, but that quickly fizzled after he hit the backrest release on my seat and dropped us into a horizontal position. Luckily, before things progressed too far, Gregson knocked on the window. The annoyance was evident on his face, but I was never more grateful to see him in my entire life.
“Zip it up, we have work to do,” he growled.
“Dammit,” Tommy cursed.
“Like I told you, sweetie, work first.”
I opened my car door and went inside. As soon as Tommy joined us, Gregson gave us a different location for delivery and a timetable with further stipulations. I had two hours to find a car and deliver it. If everything went perfectly, I would be introduced to the man in charge.
The goal was to get on the crew and get the buyer’s identity. This would be enough evidence to turn over to the authorities. The police could get the car thieves off the street, and Auto Protection Services could reassure their customers they were instrumental in shutting down a chop shop, all while bringing them the best innovations in vehicle protection.
Originally, I was hired to identify the thieves and retrieve the stolen property, but after doing some digging, it was apparent Robert Gregson and Tommy Claxton were only responsible for the thefts. They were just a small part of a larger ring, and unfortunately, they were at the bottom of the totem pole. Gregson was a middleman, and someone else was orchestrating the thefts, ordering which vehicles to steal, where to move them, which should be broken down into parts, and which would be sold. Neither Gregson nor Claxton had much say in the matter, so my job quickly became much more complicated.
Even after stealing the ’67 Mustang the night before, I had yet to uncover the identity of the buyer, or maybe he was our benefactor. At this point, I was still uncertain of the mystery man’s role in the operation. Either way, he gave Gregson orders and cash. He was the key to stopping the car theft ring. Once I got him, the case would be over, and frankly, I couldn’t wait to be free from Tommy. After all, Martin didn’t like to share, and neither did I.
“Alex, you’re doing this by yourself,” Gregson said. “I have something more important for Tommy to do, but we’ll meet at this location,” he handed me another slip of paper, “at the end of the night. If there’s trouble, you’re on your own.”
“See you guys later.”
Something felt off as I exited the garage. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but this didn’t seem like the best way to vet a possible new teammate. Was Gregson suspicious of my sudden appearance and skills? Or was Tommy questioning his good fortune of finding the girl of his dreams who could hold
her own stealing cars? Maybe it was because I refused to sleep with him or perform any type of sexual act on him. Or was there a chance they figured out who I really was?
I went to the hotel and parked across the street. My spare nine millimeter was in the glove box, and although I didn’t want to carry during the commission of a crime, the uneasy feeling demanded I take precautions. After parking on the first floor of an adjacent garage, I slipped into my shoulder holster, checked the magazine, and clipped my gun in place. Readjusting my jacket to conceal my weapon without hindering my ability to reach it quickly, I darted across the street and into the elevator. Scanning the area, I didn’t spot a tail. Maybe Gregson was on the level, and I was simply paranoid.
The set of keys to Martin’s car was in my pocket, and I got inside without any muss or fuss. There was plenty of time to spare, and I monitored the area for signs of movement. With the exception of a few late night guests arriving, the place was quiet. There was no sign of my car thief cohorts, and once a reasonable amount of time passed, I started the car and slowly pulled out of the space.
Ten minutes before deadline, I arrived at the predetermined destination and found Gregson standing next to his SUV. There was no sign of Tommy. Shutting off the engine, I opened the car door.
“Look what someone left.” I offered a broad smile, holding up the keys. “Snatched ‘em right from the valet station and here we go. Ta da.” I played up the scenario as a great victory, but Gregson barely cracked a smile.
“Nicely done.” He nodded to a parked car across the street, and the high beams came on. I threw up a hand to shield myself from the sudden brightness in the otherwise dimly lit alleyway, and something hard and cold pressed against the back of my neck.
“What the hell is this?” I exhaled slowly, not wanting to risk whoever was holding the gun becoming trigger happy.
“You’re good,” he continued, “maybe too good.” His eyes narrowed. “Within the course of two weeks, it’s rare to find someone willing to boost cars. What’s even stranger is your willingness to work alone to find something worth this much,” he gestured to the blue Ferrari, “and then, to top it off, you show up with the keys.”