Boomtown

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Boomtown Page 22

by Lani Lynn Vale


  “Why the fuck did we not ever think he would go by Justin’s name? I mean the fucker had plastic surgery so he could look like Justin. Why would we not have made that connection as well?” Max asked the room.

  I had the same thought myself. Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought he would be stupid enough to go by Justin’s name. It blew my mind when I found out that he had plastic surgery to look like Justin, but never would I have thought that he would use his name too.

  “I actually ran Justin’s name through the system, but he wasn’t using it as of two weeks ago.” Jack said. “I run his old name and Justin’s every two weeks just to be sure.”

  “Why would he just now use that name?” James asked.

  “He is planning something.” I said to him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter anymore. We need to get surveillance on his place. We need to know if he is staying there, and then we need to move in if he is.” I said to the room at large.

  We discussed the plan until we ironed it out. All possible holes in our planning were discussed, and then ironed out. With any luck this would be taken care of and wrapped up in the next week. My kids could be brought into this world safe, without a sick fuck trying to take them or their mother from me.

  This meeting had a different air to it. Today we knew where he was, we were only waiting until Tuesday to roll around before we went in.

  “You got who?” I asked Jack.

  “Malcolm. I found what he was hiding.” Jack said.

  “What is that?”

  “Apparently more happened that day he raped that girl. She got pregnant. She also moved to the US courtesy of the United States Army. And just take a wild guess about where in the country she is at. That’s right, right here in East Texas.” Jack said morosely.

  “Put a watch on her, let Peterson know. Maybe they can provide her protection. In the meantime the same plan is still set. I’ll go to the warehouse instead of the rookie, and y’all will be on standby in case someone else shows up.” I said to the room at large.

  “I don’t like this.” Max said.

  “You don’t have to like it.” I said back to him. “This needs to be over with. I want the girls’ to come into this world safe. They will never be safe if he is still out there.” I said.

  “Yea, but you don’t have to put your own ass on the line.”

  “This is not up for discussion. Let me know when everything is in place.” I said, and then headed out into the garage and started working on an older Harley that was salvaged from the scrap yard by an eighteen year old.

  I worked all the way up to lunch, and then headed back to the house. This is when I found them painting the circus room.

  “What the hell is this supposed to be?” I asked.

  “Dr. Seuss. Thing One and Thing Two.” Cheyenne said in a duh way.

  I guess I could see it now. It still was a lot of red and white though. It reminded me of a circus tent.

  “We still going to get the tree today?” I asked Cheyenne.

  “Yes!” she said excitedly. “I just have to wash all this paint off my arms and hands.”

  She was jumping up and down now, and I was getting a little worried. How she could still jump up and down I didn’t know. She was all stomach. It was surprising that she didn’t topple over since she was so front heavy. She stopped hopping to go to the paint and pour it back in the bucket. She tossed the used paintbrushes into a Ziplock, and was out of the room before Ember and I could say another word.

  Ember looked over at me and we both rolled our eyes.

  “Sometimes I worry that she is going to fall over and not be able to get back up again.” Ember said quietly.

  I burst out laughing, nodding my head in agreement. I did worry about her size. She was not a big woman to begin with, and adding two babies that were looking on the large side didn’t help. My mom liked to tell Cheyenne that I came out ten pounds. She doesn’t seem to think that it is a big deal, and normally it wouldn’t be but when you are carrying two that could possibly get as big as ten pounds it was a little scary. Cheyenne was always quiet when she thought about the fact that she was having two babies that had the potential to be big. I knew she was worried, but there wasn’t much I could do about it other than worry myself.

  “Ember, Ember. Tsk Tsk. You know better than to say something about her weight. I seem to remember a couple of weeks ago when you were visiting, and I came in to find you and Cheyenne in a catfight on the floor. What was that about again?” I asked her.

  “That was because she told me I was looking like an orca. I was wearing black yoga pants and a white camisole that didn’t go over my belly all the way. She pointed out that usually Orca’s didn’t have belly button rings.” Cheyenne came back in, wrapping her arms around be from behind. Her big belly pressed into my lower back, and I could feel the babies moving around against me. They didn’t like having pressure on them, and rebelled when they felt it.

  “It was just a joke!” Ember laughed. “It wasn’t supposed to set you off!”

  It was actually quite funny to see. We heard Cheyenne and Ember yelling, so we gave it a little while to see if it would stop, since it was normal for the two of them to get into screaming matches. However this time it had just continued to escalate, and I broke off from the guys and opened the front door to peek inside, of course the guys were right behind me. I could see them both on the ground, and Gabe, Jack, and I had started laughing until tears formed in our eyes. Ember was getting her ass kicked, but it wasn’t like she could fight back against a pregnant woman. Cheyenne was sitting on top of Ember, her big stomach practically pinning her to the ground. She kept yelling for Ember to “Take it back” and we never fully got the story until we were able to separate them.

  “Ready.” Cheyenne said into my back.

  Ember hopped into the back seat of the suburban, and we dropped her off at the front of the garage so she could stay with Max for a little while.

  “Bye, guys.” she said as she slammed the door.

  “Where to?” I asked her.

  She gave me directions, and we arrived at the tree farm in record time. There was a bonfire roaring in the open area with hot chocolate stand, a Santa sitting on his big green chair, and a checkout stand further back. There was a sign that said feel free to pick a tree and under it saws hung on the hook.

  I grabbed a saw, Cheyenne’s hand and we set out to find the perfect tree.

  CHEYENNE

  “I want this one.” I said to Sam.

  “I don’t think this one will fit.” He said to me while eyeing the tree.

  “It’s perfect. I want this one. We will make it work.” I said back.

  It really was perfect. It was darker than most of the other trees. It also was poofier and didn’t have any bald spots.

  “I don’t think this one is for sale. It doesn’t have a pink tag like the others.” He said warily.

  I looked all around the tree, but didn’t find one of the pink ribbons that were tied to the other trees that were for sale. So instead I walked over to a tree that had a ribbon and stole it off of it. I tied it to my tree and waited, tapping my foot as Sam stared back at me.

  “I’m not sure that was allowed.” He finally said.

  We had been looking for nearly an hour, my back hurt, my feet hurt, and I wanted to sit down. I marched over to him, grabbed the saw from his hand, and then stopped beside the tree thinking about how best to get this done.

  “I’ve got it.” Sam said sounding exasperated.

  He dropped down onto his knees, and then down to his stomach so he could crawl underneath the tree and started sawing away. The muscles of his back bunched and flexed with each forward and back motion. My mouth started watering.

  My sex drive didn’t go down like some women’s did during their pregnancies. Mine seemed to skyrocket, and I was sure that Sam was pretty tired of having to practically service me. Our fight this morning stemm
ed from me wanting sex, and I was about to get some when he was called away.

  Normally it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but my hormones were wonky and didn’t care whether it was rational or not. I cried for nearly an hour after Sam had left, not that I would be letting him know that. He didn’t need me to add to his worries that he was carrying around.

  The tree fell over, and Sam stood up while wiping off dirt and pine needles off the front of his shirt. He handed me the saw, and then picked the tree up like it weighed nothing. We walked to the front again, and Sam dropped the tree beside the others that were waiting to be shaken then stuffed into that little bag that would compact it down to a more manageable size.

  “Do you want to sit in Santa’s lap?” Sam asked jokingly.

  I smiled and then walked over to the Santa and waited in line. I glanced over my shoulder to see Sam with his hands on his hips staring up at the sky like he was contemplating not killing me. Santa gestured me forward when my eyes returned to him, and I walked to him. He patted his lap, gesturing for me to take a seat.

  I didn’t even hesitate. I plopped my fat ass down into his lap, wrapping one of my arms around his neck.

  “And what do you want for Christmas?” Santa asked me.

  I glanced over at Sam who was watching me with a smile on his face. He was so handsome. I didn’t know what I did to deserve him, but I thanked God every day for him. He was wearing a red t-shirt, worn denim jeans, and black combat boots.

  I turned back to the fake Santa and said “I just wanted to sit in your lap. My husband made a sarcastic comment asking if I was going to sit in your lap, so I decided to do it.”

  Santa laughed, gestured with his head and asked “Is that him?”

  “Yep.” I said.

  We spoke for a few more minutes, took a picture and then I headed back over to Sam who had just gone to pay for the tree. I walked up next to him in line and wrapped my arm around him.

  “I’m hungry.” I said to him handing him the picture of Santa and me.

  He looked at the picture and smiled, and then stuffed it into his back pocket. He paid for the tree, and we walked back to the truck, grabbing the tree on the way.

  “Are you going to try to put the tree on top of the truck or inside?” I asked him.

  “On top. And it’s a SUV not a truck.” He said laughingly.

  I rolled my eyes. This was a normal argument with us. I called everything that wasn’t a car a truck, and he called everything by name, or type of vehicle it was. I explained to him that in Texas that was how we talked, we weren’t much for correctness down here. He said that was just weird. I told him that he was weird since he was from up North.

  “Are we going to get into this discussion again, really?” I asked him.

  “Yep.” He said, popping the p.

  “Fine. What are your arguments today?” I asked him.

  “A coke, is a coke. Not any type of soft drink.” Sam said.

  “Listen up. A coke is a coke. But it could also be a Dr. Pepper. Just because you don’t like how things are laid down here, doesn’t mean you can tease me about it. Just suck it up. When I ask you to get me a coke, you, in turn, need to ask me what type of coke. Just do it, it will be easier.” I said to him.

  “”Fixing to” is not correct either. You should say” I am about to”, not “fixin’ to”.” He teased.

  I’ve heard this one before, and not just from him. He strapped the tree to the top of the truck, and then we headed off to get Mexican food that was just down the road from the tree farm. We continued our argument the entire way.

  Sam snaked his hand over and grabbed mine that was resting against my enormous stomach. He linked our fingers, and laid our hands back on top of my stomach. The baby on my right side started kicking, and I smiled. There wasn’t much that could make my life any better than it was right now. Nothing could ruin this feeling.

  Or so I thought.

  Chapter 21

  Tuesday-7 p.m.

  CHEYENNE

  “And where is Mr. McKenzie tonight, Shamu?” Ember asked.

  “He went for a guy’s night. Kind of like a last night out with the guys before the babies get here.” I answered her.

  I was folding baby clothes and putting them away in the dresser. I washed them all with that expensive as fuck baby detergent, and then folded them all into little god damned piles. Earlier I had packed a diaper bag, and the hospital bag. I had been putting this off because I really hated doing laundry, and laundry I would have to do if I wanted to pack a bag.

  “That must be why all us women are supposed to be gathering here. They said Elliott had a little cold so he will be hanging with us this evening with Blaine. They should be here shortly, I told them to grab some pizza.” Ember said absently, picking up a tiny onesie and folding it.

  We were almost to the end of the basket when Blaine and Elliott walked in. Blaine was carrying a two liter of Dr. Pepper in one hand, and Mountain Dew in the other. Since I wasn’t able to drink, they decided to go non-alcoholic tonight, just for me.

  Elliott was carrying the pizza, and set it down on the table. His phone must have vibrated, because he pulled it out of his pocket and scanned it, then replaced it back into his pocket. He looked tense, almost like he and Blaine had a row before they came in. I reminded myself to ask her later what happened.

  We spent the next three hours laughing and watching a new romantic comedy. Elliott was a good sport, and never once complained about our movie tastes. I glanced at him every so often, and noticed that Blaine and Ember were also giving him curious glances. He wasn’t acting his usual self, so either he was upset, or he was sicker than he was letting on. It wasn’t normal for him to be so distant. He was usually the life of the party, and always had a joke to say, but tonight he was just so serious.

  Periodically he would take his phone out of his pocket, scan it, and then replace it again. I wondered if he was keeping in touch with Sam, because that was something that he would do. I however didn’t receive one text message, and I was beginning to worry. It wasn’t normal for him to go more than an hour. He was always so worried that I would go into labor. I only had four weeks left, and the doctor said it was normal for twin pregnancies to happen anywhere from thirty two to thirty eight weeks.

  Since I was on my thirty sixth week, it could be anytime, and since the babies were both in breech position I would be getting a C-section in two more weeks if something didn’t happen before then.

  We were on our second movie when I started to get a very bad feeling that something horrible was wrong. I just didn’t feel right.

  SAM

  11:09 P.M.

  “He’s here. Walking around west side. He should be at your door in two minutes or less.” Jack said through my earpiece.

  “Copy.” I whispered. “Follow the plan.”

  I waited in the shadows casted by the street lamp that ran along the outer edge of the warehouse. The door that Malcolm was supposed to be entering was to the right of where I was standing. Two minutes came and went, and I was just about to confirm with Jack again when Malcolm cautiously entered through the door.

  According to the rookie cop that we interrogated, Malcolm would head for the room straight in front of him, and await him. Tonight Malcolm was in for an ugly surprise.

  Malcolm strode across the floor, and was entering the room when I made it up behind him. I had my .45 in my hand, and had it pointed at the back of his head before I spoke.

  “Hello, Malcolm. Long time no see.” I said to him.

  At the sound of my voice he froze. It took him all of three seconds before he came unstuck and reached for his gun that was in a shoulder holster underneath his arm.

  “Stop.” I said to him. “Hands up.”

  Malcolm raised his hands above his head just as Max’s voice crackled in my ear.

  “Bogie. Coming in hard on right side.” Max growled into the earpiece.

  “Two more coming in on the right.” Jame
s said about his end.

  “Take them out.” I said to them.

  I heard agreements, but no gunshots. My men didn’t need weapons to get the job done. We didn’t want to alert anyone to what we were doing, and if there were any gun shots, then we would have the cop’s attention since there were other businesses nearby, with a steady pedestrian population.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Perfect! How is that sweet woman doing? The babies thriving?” he said viciously.

  One after the other, Jack, Gabe, James, and Max reported that their men were down. They were to stay outside until we had more info on who else would be joining this meeting. The rookie didn’t have a clue, so we were playing it safe and monitoring the outside just in case.

  “On your knees, spread them wide.” I said to him calmly.

  He dropped to his knees and spread them as far apart as he could. His hands stayed behind his head. I walked up behind him and withdrew his gun from his holster, placing it into the small of my back in the waist band of my jeans. My own gun I kept in my hand and patted him down with the other. I was just pulling out his thirty eight from his ankle holster when I his head fell forward and he twisted and tried to take out my knee.

  I twisted out of his way in time for his elbow to just brush my knee. His body fell off balance and fell face first, catching himself on his hands. His hand fisted, and then the next thing I felt were granules of dirt being thrown into my face. I got my arm up in time to deflect the sand from one eye, but not the other.

  My eyes started to water, but I watched intently to see his next move. I was spoiling for a fight, and I just needed a legitimate reason to give to the police for killing him. He charged up from the floor and barreled into my legs, taking me down onto the ground with him. I let him take me down, because the cameras that were recording us needed to see him make the first move.

 

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