by R. B. Conroy
“What in the hell are you doing here, Willie?” A mystified grin appeared on Pedro’s face.
Still reeling from the sudden advance by Pedro on this quiet morning. Willie looked quizzically at the man in front of him, “Pedro? Is that you Pedro?”
“Yes it is, my friend. Its been a long time since high school. You look a little different. Good, but just a little different.” Pedro laughed nervously.
Willie chuckled, “You too. You look a lot different. You were just a little guy in high school.” The two men exchanged a quick aggressive handshake with Pedro patting Willie’s outstretched hand several times. “Sorry man, but I thought maybe you were trying to break into my friend, Dr. Stone’s, house or something. He plays golf on Saturday morning, so he’s not usually here.”
“No problem man, I don’t exactly look like a friend of Dr. Stone’s.”
Pedro chuckled and stood silently waiting for more information.
A little slow on the draw, Willie finally picked up on Pedro’s silence. “Oh…uh my mom’s been going out with Dr. Stone, so he hired me to do some odd jobs around the house--painting, and so forth. I will probably be coming and going for some time. He said he wants to keep me busy.”
Pedro’s eyes widened, “No yard work, I hope?”
Willie chuckled, “Oh no, he didn’t say anything about doing any yard work. I think your job is safe.”
“Oh good. Your mom is a lucky woman to be going out with Dr. Stone. He is very nice and he has lots of money.”
“Yea, they work together at that big office over at Lake Sumter Landing. That’s where she met him. I think they are playing golf together today.”
“Good for her.” Pedro felt a bump on his right arm, he glanced right. Tito had left the truck and was standing next to him. “Willie, this is my cousin, Tito.”
“Hey Tito, what’s up man?”
Tito flashed a snappish grin and said nothing.
“He doesn’t speak very good English,” Pedro said hastily.
Willie was taken aback by the dark skinned, thick built Tito and the menacing, almost evil expression, on his face. When Tito entered the scene, a sort of tension filled the air. Willie quickly turned his attention back on Pedro. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Pedro. Like I say, I hope to be spending a lot of time here.”
“Okay man, it was good to see you.” The two old high school friends bumped fists together. Willie turned and hurried inside for his first day of work and Pedro and Tito began unloading the yard equipment from the truck.
Chapter 19
Inside the garage, Willie’s eyes went wide. He was stunned with the organization and appointments of the garage. The floor was painted with a shiny gray acrylic paint and the space was totally systematized. Expensive tools and yard equipment hung neatly on large peg boards that were attached to the side walls. Ceiling-high metal cabinets for storage lined the wall to the left, and shorter metal cabinets topped by a metal counter lined the wall on the right. He noticed the shiny scooter his mom had told him about parked just below a very large tool box. He must have a fortune in tools, he thought as he made his way past the shiny Mercedes to the backdoor. The large meticulously organized garage with metal cabinetry and expensive tools was much different from the garages that Willie was used to seeing. He was captivated by the sense of affluence that the garage exuded.
He arrived at the backdoor and after a quick turn of the knob, the door fell open. He walked into the mudroom and looked around. Just as Joe had promised, a gallon of paint, a roller pan and brush, and a plastic tarp were laying in the corner of the entry area. The doctor had told Willie that his first project would be to paint the mudroom, which was still pretty scuffed up from when the movers banged through the area a couple of years ago.
Willie wasn’t ready to paint just yet. He wanted to mosey on into the house and take a quick look around. When he stepped out of the mudroom into the kitchen area, he was captivated by the beautifully decorated home. The home literally oozed of money. He gazed down at the beautiful tile floors in the kitchen area that led him toward the stunning hardwood floors in the dining room. He glanced up at the gray granite counter tops and gorgeous white cabinets in the kitchen. They were way beyond anything Willie Harris had ever seen. The large leather furnishings, stunning floral arrangements, lustrous wooden bookshelves, marble statues of various Greek gods and crystal chandeliers in the main living area dazzled the eyes of this poor boy from rural Florida.
The scent of freshly picked flowers in a tall glass vase on the center of the glass table next to Willie permeated the kitchen, adding to the absorbing ambience. Willie’s eyes did a double take when he noticed a checkbook with an Edward Jones Money Market sticker on it laying on the kitchen table next to a notepad and pen. The notepad had a few numbers scribbled on it. It appeared that Dr. Stone had talked with his Jones advisor recently and made a few notes. He was surprised that Dr. Joe left the checkbook laying on the table knowing that Willie would be coming over to the house. A sly grin appeared on Willie’s face. “This man is way too trusting,” he mumbled.
A little nervous about getting caught while snooping around, Willie turned and looked out through the large dining room window to see what Pedro and his friend were doing outside. He saw Pedro whiz past on the mower a few seconds later and he could hear a trimmer buzzing in the front yard. Satisfied that no one could see him, he quickly grabbed the Jones checkbook off the table and whipped it open. He clumsily thumbed through the pages trying to find the current balance. His eyes bugged open when he got to the most recent entry. After a recent deposit of $1,000, the balance in the account was over $110,000. Even an unsophisticated lout like Willie knew that checking accounts were paying almost no interest now-a-days, so for the doctor to carry such a staggering balance in a basically non-interest bearing account meant that he had a ton of money. Willie was ecstatic, “I’m in the right place,” he whispered, “but I have to play my cards right.” Thinking that the doctor might be testing him by leaving the checkbook in such an obvious place, Willie positioned it back exactly where it was before he picked it up. The tension and the silence in the room was suddenly broken by the ring of Willie’s cell phone. He looked at the screen to see who it was--it was his nemesis, Tubs.
“What do you want, I’m busy.”
“I never thought you would be too busy to talk to your ole’ buddy Tubs, sleaze ball.”
“I got a job to do, so get to the point.”
“A job? Willie has a job?” Tubs groaned sarcastically. “I hope it pays well, turd ball, because I’m going to need that twenty-five hundred a little sooner than expected.”
Willie was stunned. It was going to be hard enough to come up with that kind of cash by the end of the month, let alone sooner. His legs got weak. “Hey, we had a deal man, end of the month!” Willie shouted.
The phone went quiet, “You’re amazing, you know that. If you ever shout at me like that again, I will hunt you down and make you a cripple! Do you understand me?”
Angry, but remembering the recent beating from Tubs, Willie took a deep breath and exhaled. “Go ahead.”
“Some things have come up and I will need the money sooner. I will need it by the end of next week--no later than Friday. Here’s the plan, dirt ball. We will meet in the parking lot of your favorite topless joint Friday at 4:00 and you will give me the money--all of it.” Tubs spoke calmly, not mincing any words.
Willie stared into space. Arrogant and not used to taking orders from anyone, he didn’t want to answer, but he had to or he would be taking a chance on inflaming an already angry Tubs. Not wanting to say it, he almost whispered into the phone, “Okay, next Friday.”
“What? I didn’t hear you, scum bag. Speak up.”
“I said okay, four at Tabu.”
“You probably know, Willie, that I don’t trust you worth a shit, so let me put it to you this way--you be there with the money or you will spend the next several weeks in the hospital. Got it?”
“I will be
there.”
“One more thing, moron. The cops have been snooping around the Legion in Leesburg recently and asking a lot of questions. They’re not giving up. They said they are looking for two guys who were in a green Honda that night.”
Willie suddenly felt warm, “What are you talking about, a green Honda? I thought they gave up weeks ago.”
“Maybe they got a tip or something. Maybe somebody knows something they shouldn’t. What do you think?”
“I never told a soul, not one person.” Beads of perspiration popped out on Willie’s face. “That was the deal, right? That neither of us would ever tell anyone.”
“Yea, we made other deals that you weaseled out on. Maybe you weaseled out on this one. It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Listen Tubs, if they pin this on us, we’re both going to prison for a long, long, time.”
“I hope not, because we wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t decided to run over that poor bastard in the first place. It’s all your fault, scum bag.”
Willie began pacing back and forth. His mind was racing. If he got arrested and tried for the robbery, he would go to prison for the rest of his life. He felt sick inside. The Leesburg newspaper had run an article over a month ago, announcing that there were no leads and the investigation was at a standstill. Willie was frantic. He wanted to snort a line of coke and bury his painful thoughts in a drug-induced stupor, but that wasn’t possible right now, he had work to do. “What are we going to do, Tubs? What the hell are we gonna do?”
Tubs laughed hysterically, “Lighten up, sleaze ball.”
“What do you mean lighten up? This is big time!”
“You’re probably the luckiest shithead in the world.”
“Lucky?”
“Yea, you just got the break of your life.
“Break?”
“Yes, some hilljack from over around Lady Lake confessed to the crime early last week. Said he ran over the guy and took the money and the whole nine yards. The police did an investigation and said that his car had damage on the front fender consistent with the hit and run that night. I don’t know if the guy wanted to make a name for himself or what, but they did an investigation and closed the case. We’re in the clear. It was on the news last night. If you weren’t so busy snorting coke, you would know what the hell is going on in the world.” Tubs grunted out a couple of crude chuckles.
Willie’s heart rate slowed dramatically, his breathing started to return to normal. As he calmed, his fear turned to rage at Tubs. Tubs had made a fool of him. He had been playing with him for no reason. Tubs had the upper hand right now and Willie knew it. He gritted his teeth and replied quietly, “You really had me going there for a second.”
“I know, that’s because you’re basically a chicken shit Willie, a mean ole nasty chicken shit. Have the money next Friday.” Tubs hung up.
Still shaking, Willie glared at his silent cell phone and mumbled, “Bastard.” He stepped into the mudroom and found the time sheet right where Dr. Stone had left it. He jotted down 9:00 a.m. as his starting time, even though it was almost 9:45. He kneeled down next to the paint supplies to begin his first day of work. After the shocking call from Tubs, he would have to convince Dr. Stone to loan him the $2,500 before the end of next week. He glanced over at the Jones checkbook laying on the table, “I’ve got to get my hands on some of that cash and pronto.” he mumbled.
Chapter 20
Joe lifted the warm carafe. The hot black liquid splashed into his large cup embossed with a Pittsburgh Steelers logo. The cool morning breeze came through the open slider and brushed against his pajamas sending a chill up his leg. Joe turned toward the source of the breeze and walked through the open slider out to the stone patio area, coffee cup in hand. He nestled into one of the many soft chairs that occupied his morning refuge and then, as was his morning custom, he knuckled the sleep from both his eyes and took a sip of coffee. While not a coffee drinker in the true sense, he truly enjoyed a cup of coffee first thing in the morning.
Joe gazed over the well-manicured ninth fairway of the Allamanda Golf Course that flowed effortlessly past the back of his house. This was his time for thinking, the time he used to reflect on the goings-on in his life. Like most other mornings over the past few months, the topic most prevalent in his thoughts was Susan. It seemed he couldn’t get her off his mind lately. Thoughts of his beloved Adele had been more or less relegated to the back of his mind, while thoughts of the effervescent Susan seemed to dominate his psyche. He was just amazed at how quickly this lady with an underprivileged background had adjusted to his rather affluent lifestyle. She ebbed and flowed in his upscale world with the greatest of ease and had become, in fact, one of the best liked individuals in Joe’s rather large circle of friends.
Joe shook his head and smiled as he thought of that Tuesday night just a few weeks ago--the night it happened, the night he got to know Susan really well. He leaned back against the soft cushion, took a sip of coffee, and thought back to that titillating evening. It had begun as a typical day for them--golf with friends and then dinner and drinks at one of the many fine restaurants in The Villages.
It was a cool spring evening and Joe had just shot his best round of the year on the challenging Truman Golf Course, an impressive even par 29. After the exciting round, the group had decided to celebrate Joe’s great round by going to a little nicer restaurant for dinner. Someone suggested the Arnold Palmer Country Club. Within a few minutes, they were off, racing along the winding streets of The Villages toward Palmer, a fifteen-minute cart ride away. At Palmer, the excited Joe ended up downing a few more vodka tonics than usual. When dinner was over and the group started to break up, Joe starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, asked Susan to drive his cart back to his house in Sunset Ridge.
On the way home, the rush of cool air through the half-open window on the cart seemed to clear Joe’s fuzzy head. When they arrived at his home, he had a slight buzz on, but he wasn’t nearly as woozy as when they left the restaurant. Not wanting the night to end, Joe insisted that Susan come inside for a cup of coffee. Susan accepted the invitation and once inside, she hurried to the guest bathroom to freshen up a little. Joe tuned in some soft music and fell into one of the large leather chairs in the center of the main room. Joe liked this chair over one of his sofas because if Susan joined him, she would be literally sitting on his lap.
* * *
A short time later, Susan came out of the bathroom. “I’ll start the coffee, she said.
“Thanks, Susan, I appreciate it.”
Susan made her way to the kitchen and started the coffee. She glanced over at Joe, who was smiling at her from the big chair. She had a playful look in her eye, one that he had never seen before. He followed her every move as she punched the button on the coffee maker. Slowly, she strolled over to Joe and nestled aggressively next to him in the chair. Joe’s strategy had worked. He sat smiling as she nestled her shapely backside into the tight spot. Almost immediately, she placed her hand gently on his knee and whispered, “How are you feeling?”
Still a little woozy at this point, Joe replied, “I’ve never felt better in my life.”
She carefully slid her hand further up his leg. He could feel himself becoming excited. “I’m feeling pretty good myself,” she moaned. With her eyes batting from time to time from arousal, she leaned over. A long, tender kiss ensued. During the kiss, she slid her leg over his and quickly slid her hand further up his thigh. The aggressive move startled Joe. His legs jerked together for a brief second in a reflex action and then fell open again, giving her the green light. Breathing hard and with both of his hands now roaming freely over Susan, Joe paused for a second and looked her directly in her eyes. With his hand shaking, he tenderly touched her cheek and whispered, “You’re so beautiful, Susan, and I want you so much.”
“Oh Joe, sweet Joe, I feel the same,” she sighed.
Joe slipped his arms under her legs. Getting a firm grip on her, he scooted t
o the edge of the chair and stood up.
I’ve longed for this moment, she thought, and then just like in her recurrent dream, the rich man carried the poor girl down the hall and into the master bedroom for a beautiful night of sweet and tender lovemaking.
* * *
The call of a Sandhill crane strolling majestically along the nearby fairway pulled Joe out of his evocative trance. A warm smile spread across his face at the memory of that first night. Since that night, while not constant, their lovemaking had become a part of his and Susan’s life together and Joe was enjoying every minute of it. Adventuresome and aggressive, Susan was taking Joe to places he had never been before and doing it in a most sensitive manner. Still gorgeous at sixty, even when completely undressed, Susan was careful not to make Joe feel embarrassed about his portly and aging body. She insisted that the lights be dimmed when the clothes came off and complimented him often on his “uncanny” lovemaking skills, whispering to him at the most opportune moments that he was the best that she had ever had.
Because of Susan, Joe was feeling wonderful and it showed. His golfing buddies were noticing the changes in Joe and were not bashful about mentioning it to the reserved doctor. While enjoying a beer in the lounge at the nearby Cane Garden Country Club after a recent round, one of his best friends, Don Davidson, made the following unsolicited remark, “It appears things are going well with you and Susan, Joe. Your cheeks are a little pinker than they used to be.” The other men roared at the comment from their friend Don and joined into an agreeing high-five. For his part, Joe could only grin and bear it with his ‘pink’ cheeks turning a bright crimson. “I didn’t know it showed,” he quipped.
Joe’s smile started to fade and his expression hardened as his thoughts turned from the lovely Susan to her wayward son, Willie. After working closely with him for the past few weeks, Dr. Stone had begun to have a few reservations about Willie. He was always polite, and while his work was not “professional level” as he had promised, it was good enough. The problem with Willie was more on the personal level. His consistently bloodshot eyes and shoddy appearance gave Joe pause. He thought it very possible that the young man’s drug problem was escalating, but he couldn’t be sure. A few items of jewelry had come up missing since Willie’s arrival, which would coincide with someone needing money for drugs; but once again, he couldn’t be sure. He had so much jewelry that quite frankly he had lost track of what exactly was in his jewelry box. And he certainly didn’t want to affect his blossoming relationship with Susan over a few pieces of jewelry. So Joe kept his concerns to himself and didn’t mention them to either Willie or Susan. It is probably just my imagination.