by Pete Lister
The Sherrys followed at a discrete distance, until the rental car shuttle came by. The seven boarded and disappeared down the roadway. Only after the shuttle was out of sight did they step out the door and flag down the shuttle for the Westin.
As they circled the airport, heading for the hotel, John spoke aloud, “Holy Christ. That was Shiv Thompson from Chicago. I bet he’s the one who owns our money.”
§ § §
As the shuttle pulled away from the terminal, Shiv turned to Jack. “Did you make them?”
“Yeah. Four of them.”
“Was that them?”
“I don’t know, Shiv, You know, I’ve never actually seen them”
“You only saw them as they drove past, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“So that could have been them, right?”
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. But, it just doesn’t feel right.”
“The older guy was good, though. I almost didn’t make ‘him.”
“I know. I wouldn’t have seen him at all, if it wasn’t for the others being just a little too obvious.”
“I hope it’s them. If they’re tailing me here, that means they’re not so scared they’ll stay invisible. It may just mean we get another chance at them.”
“You want us to go around and see if we can pick them up?”
“Naw, it’s too late. We gonna do that, we shoulda done it while we were there. But none of us was packin’ and I damn sure didn’t want to make a scene with all them cops around. I want them so bad I can taste it, but we’ll get another chance. Nice to see we ain’t lost our touch, though.” Shiv turned to the five men sitting behind them.
“Hey, any of you guys make our tail?” Pat Mead gave an almost imperceptible nod, holding up four fingers. “Pat? I’d expect it from an old fart like you. The rest of you? No? Jack, you gotta train these kids.”
Shiv and Jack turned back around and started retelling war stories from the old days. The four youngest of their companions looked at each other, wondering what they had missed. They all looked at Pat, but he just smiled to himself and settled into his seat.
§ § §
13
After the close call with Shiv and his goons, the Sherrys decided that going out in public this close to the airport might be risky, so after a relaxing night at the Westin, they took a taxi to the long-term parking lot and recovered John’s van.
They stopped for lunch at Duke’s in Portland, and arrived back at the RV storage lot in Muskegon in mid-afternoon, ready to put their feet up and relax. It had been a wearying couple of days, wandering from Europe through Canada to Detroit, always on high alert. They found a nearby campground, and were soon relaxing with a cooler full of beer, which went perfectly with the bratwurst on the grill. The girls were reading on their chaise lounges, while Drew and John discussed their upcoming trip west.
“Pop, I’d like to avoid Chicago, altogether. We have other options, you know. We could take I-96 down to I-80 through Gary and bypass Chicago. Or we could take the ferry back to Milwaukee and take I-43 down to Beloit. That would put us practically at the Iowa state line. For that matter, we could go up north, over the Mackinac Bridge to the U.P. and through to Minnesota and the Dakotas. We’ve got options. I don’t like the idea of taking any chances where that guy is concerned. If he’s as bad as you say, I want to keep the girls as far out of harm’s way as we can.”
“I think you’re right, son. I like your idea of going back across the lake and down through Beloit. By the way, do you still have that .45?”
“Sure do, it’s locked in the glove box of my truck, why?”
“I’m thinking that if there’s the slightest chance we could run into that bunch again, I’d hate to go in empty-handed. There’s just something unsettling about taking a knife to a gunfight.”
“I suppose your guns are still in the gun safe.” John had built a bookcase shortly after he retired. A beautiful piece of furniture, the gun cabinet was built into its back panel. To access it, the bookcase swiveled forward, exposing the lock on the back. It wasn’t visible or obvious from the front, so if anyone entered the house, they would never find it without literally knocking John’s furniture apart.
“All of them.” John told him. “Now, I’m thinking Shiv may have someone watching the house, but we should be able to get into your truck at night, going through the side door of that garage. The other thing I’m thinking is that I can spot anybody watching the place from the street. Between us, we should be able to neutralize them.
“I know all the neighbors, and I can’t picture any of them letting strangers camp in their house to watch mine. And, if any of them were invaded for more than a day, or went missing, the others would start sniffing around. There’s just no way they can be watching my house from anywhere but the street. I’d just feel a whole lot better traveling with an arsenal, if we ever have to go up against those guys.”
“I’m in. When do we go?”
“How about we relax over the weekend and go Monday? We could go over on the last ferry. That would get us to the house well after dark. I’m thinking Dianne and I take the RV over, you and Ashley drive my van, and we park the RV somewhere. Then we can use the van to go to the house. We can leave the girls in the RV. I’d feel secure with us going in, but neither of the girls has really seen that kind of action. I know Ashley’s a scrapper, with all kinds of cop training, but still…”
“I know, Pop. You’re right. They won’t like it, but I think they’d rather stay behind than risk getting us killed just because they wanted to help. Besides, even Ash should be able to see the logic of not taking Dianne, but not leaving her alone, either. She could protect Dianne while we’re gone. I do think, though, that it would be received better if it came from you. Hey, those brats look done.”
§ § §
Over strenuous objections from Ashley, which had only been overcome by the brute force of sheer logic, Drew and John were driving alone, through pouring rain, to John’s house. Cruising slowly through the neighborhood, John only spotted one car, parked in the alley behind the house.
“Drew, this doesn’t make any sense. If you were having a house watched, trying to catch the guy who lived there, would you only put one car on it, and park him in the alley out back? That makes no sense at all. We could walk in the front door and he’d never see us. Something’s wrong here, this setup doesn’t pass the smell test.”
“There’s got to be at least one more here, somewhere, Pop. You’re sure about the neighbors?” As they came around the block, John laid out his plan.
John turned the corner and pulled into the driveway of the empty house next door, the one he owned. When he pulled up next to the garage and shut off the engine, Drew got out and slammed the car door, making noise as he opened the front door and went in. First the kitchen light went on and then off, then the bathroom light went on in the back of the house, and several minutes later, went off. The back bedroom light came on and stayed on, and the bedroom shade stayed down. Drew walked back and forth in front of it a couple of times, taking off his shirt and pants, before putting his clothes back on and slipping down to the basement.
John slipped quietly out of the driver’s door, pushing it almost shut. Crawling around the garage, he approached his garage. Treading silently between the two buildings, he looked in the window from the darkness. Lowering his head slowly, he crawled back around the garage next door, where he joined Drew, sitting in the van threading his holster onto his belt.
“They did put two guys on the house. The other one’s in my garage. His car’s in there, and he’s sitting in the car, watching the house through the side door window. With the rain on the roof, he’ll have trouble hearing anything outside.”
“How do you want to handle it?” Drew asked. John explained the next phase of his plan.
“You got any rope in your truck?”
“Of course, and I’ve got my tool box, too.”
“And?”
“And I have cable ties. They’re easier to stuff in a pocket than rope.”
Drew crawled over to the garage door and disappeared inside. He was back two minutes later with a handful of the plastic ties and a fourteen-inch pipe wrench. He gave John half the ties and the wrench, took the keys, and backed the van out of the driveway as John walked through the warm rain, crouching as he rounded the back end of the garage.
Drew drove around the corner and turned into the alley. As he approached the waiting car, he saw the driver put up his hand to shield his eyes from Drew’s headlights. Gripping the wheel tightly, Drew slowed as he approached the car. Twenty feet out, he mashed the gas pedal and slammed straight into the lookout’s grill.
The driver, who had been watching his approach, had no time to react. His head was thrown forward, over the wheel and into the windshield, stunning him. By the time he realized what had happened, he found himself staring into the muzzle of Drew’s .45.
Drew opened the driver’s door and jerked him out of the car. “Not a sound. Put your hands on the back of your head where I can see them,” he snarled, as he forced the still-dazed man to the ground, where he lay in the water gushing down the alley.
Pulling the man’s hands down and behind his back, Drew tightened the cable tie and moved down to his feet. Securing the man’s ankles, he did a quick pat-down, finding an automatic in a shoulder holster and small revolvers in holsters on each ankle. The switchblade was in his sport coat pocket.
As he stood up, John walked into the alley. “Lot of noise back here,” he said, with a smile. “Drag him into the back yard and put him next to the other one.” John turned back into the yard as Drew dragged the hapless lookout over the steps and across the grass.
John was waiting next to the other man, who was trussed up and unconscious.
“How’s your guy feeling?” he asked Drew.
“I don’t know. He only moans a little.” John leaned over and drove the grip of the automatic he had liberated into the man’s skull behind his ear.
Unlocking the back door, they went through the kitchen and into the living room without turning on any lights.
“Grab the duffel bag in the back of my bedroom closet.” As Drew slipped into John’s bedroom, John pulled the bookcase away from the wall and unlocked it. Drew returned and opened the duffel as his father opened the back of the bookcase and started transferring handguns, shotguns and rifles gently into the duffel, where they joined the small arsenal he and Drew had taken from the sentries. He followed these with a dozen boxes of ammunition and a sack of holsters, and gently closed and locked the safe. Drew zipped up the bag as his father slid the bookcase back against the wall.
“We’ll take the car they so thoughtfully left in my garage.” John said, as he carefully locked his back door. They were driving slowly out of the neighborhood when they heard the sirens approach.
§ § §
After a night at the Pfister Hotel downtown, and a day relaxing, the Sherrys had finally hit the road after an early dinner, embarking on their next project.
“John, where do you want to start?” Ashley was driving the RV south on I-43 out of downtown Milwaukee. “I mean, the idea of cruising casinos out west is probably a good one, but it’s a little vague.”
“Drew? It’s your call. What did you have in mind?” asked John.
“Well, if we want to start out west, I think that ‘out west’ starts at the Mississippi. Let’s hit St. Louis first, and move west from there. I know there’s a riverboat casino right downtown. I’ve driven tours there.”
“All in favor say aye,” called John.
§ § §
“Shiv, it’s Pat. Listen, I know I’m late, but I’m on 43, headed towards Beloit, and, Shiv, you owe me a fish fry.”
“This better be good, Pat. Now, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, I was on 43, coming back from Oneida. I was going to stop at Clifford’s for fish fry, you know, the place I like out in Hales Corner? Anyway, I stopped for gas and who do you think was driving this big RV pulling out of a minimart parking lot?”
“I don’t play guessing games, Pat.”
“It was the girl, the bus driver’s girlfriend.”
“You sure?”
“Shiv, on a scale of 1 to 10, this broad’s an easy 12. You don’t forget one like that.”
“So where are you right now?”
“About half a mile behind the RV.”
“Good move. I’ll take you for that fish fry myself. Stay with them. I’ll get Jack and the boys started right away. Jack’ll call you. Stay in touch so they can find you. If you can wrap this up, there’s a bonus in it for you. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks, Shiv. Listen, they’re pulling into a burger joint where 43 crosses 90. I’m gonna top off here. I’ll wait for Jack’s call.”
§ § §
“Dianne, did you find an RV park for us, yet?” John asked his wife.
“Sure did, about a mile and a half west of the casino. I punched it into the GPS.”
“Great, now about that fried chicken? Isn’t it about time you made yourself useful around here?”
“YOU!” John just barely had time to brace himself before his wife jumped on him, and they ended up rolling around on the floor like a couple of kids. Ashley, riding shotgun, and Drew, driving since the last rest stop, smiled and shook their heads.
“As soon as my shift at the wheel is done, it’s your turn,” Drew told her.
“We’ll see,” she replied, with a smile.
§ § §
“Jack, it’s Pat.”
“Pat, I called but you didn’t answer.”
“I got the phone plugged in recharging. I had to get out to pump gas.”
“Where are you, now?”
“I-90 south, south of Beloit.”
“Okay, we’re still 20 minutes from Beloit. Do they look like they’re in a hurry? I mean, are they speeding?”
“Naw, we’re cruising just under the limit. Where are you?”
“We’ll be intercepting you soon.” Jack was coming west on I-90 from Chicago. “We’ll pull into that rest area just south of the state line and wait for you. By the way, you’re not driving your car, are you?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, shit.”
“What? What do you got against my car?”
“Pat, it’s a goddam red Corvette convertible. Shouldn’t be too hard to hide that one, eh? Listen, we should be near you pretty soon. Let them see you, there’s ‘Vettes on the road. After you pass us, get off in Rockford and rent something like a Buick, preferably a neutral color, something that doesn’t jump out at you. You can turn it in and pick up your car on the way back. We’ll take over and wait for you to catch up. Then we can trade off, so they don’t catch on.”
§ § §
“Jack, it’s Pat. I just got back on 90. I’m in a gray Buick Lacrosse. I can hardly see it and I’m driving it.”
“Good. Listen, we just got off on I-39 south. We’re hanging way back, so get up here as soon as you can. Don’t go crazy, though, we don’t want attention, like a ticket or something.”
“No problem. I got the cruise control set at ten miles over.”
“You packin’?”
“Of course. Hey, I was going out for fish fry, I wasn’t going swimming’. Hell, you’re lucky Donna wasn’t with me.”
“Okay, Okay. Listen, as soon as you get close, we’ll pull over and I’ll have Mike ride with you.”
§ § §
“Pat, Jack. We just took 74 west around Bloomington, then got on 55 south. Looks like they might be headed for St. Louis.”
“I’m gaining on you, Jack.”
§ § §
It took Pat almost a hundred miles to catch up to the SUV. They pulled over together at a rest stop five miles north of Springfield and Mike ran back to the Buick. Jack pulled off at Springfield to refuel and Pat took over the tail.
The RV got off at the next Springf
ield exit for a quick refueling stop, so by the time they were back on the road, all three vehicles were rolling, strung out over almost a mile of freeway.
§ § §
John had taken over the wheel after Springfield. Ten minutes later, he called Drew and Ashley up to the front. “When you guys were driving, did either of you notice if there was a black SUV cruising behind us?”
“There was one for a while, but he was way back there. I think he got off in Springfield.” Drew told him. “What’s wrong, Pop?”
“Maybe nothing. There’s a black SUV behind us, maybe half a mile. I’ve been varying my speed, and he never gets any closer or farther away. That’s one of the first signs of a tail. He fell back, now, and I don’t see him.”
“This is the major Chicago to St. Louis route, Pop. It could just be somebody going to St. Louis.”
“That’s true, but I don’t believe in coincidences. We have too much at stake to make any assumptions. Remember what we said? Always assume the worst. I’m going to pull over at the next rest stop and we’ll watch.”
A rest stop came up ten minutes later. John pulled in and parked so the RV was facing the freeway. A gray Buick pulled in a minute later, and the driver got out and went into the rest room. Two minutes later the SUV cruised past, holding the speed limit. John waited fifteen more minutes, then pulled back into traffic. He didn’t see the Buick pull out two minutes behind him.
Half an hour later, he called Drew back up front.
“He’s back. That SUV pulled off at that last rest stop, and after we passed, he pulled back in behind us. He’s still laying back, but I’m pretty sure we’ve picked up a tail.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Well, one thing’s for sure. We aren’t going to lose him in this rig. When we find that RV park in St. Louis, make sure you’re carrying. Just to be on the safe side, you should strap on one of those .22 autos in an ankle holster, too. Get one out for me, and make sure the girls have something in their purses. Oh, and break out a couple of those switchblades, too. I don’t know what to expect, but I damned sure do not want those bastards to catch us with our pants down. Let’s go into this thing loaded for bear.”