Mr Jones

by William Cain

  “They bought a mansion in Naples, along with the furnishings. Here’s a picture of it,” Al says, handing Gen another photograph. “It’s on billionaire’s row, and they have a newly purchased eighty-foot yacht moored nearby. It’s staffed by an engineer, a skipper, and a cook. The yacht is named ‘The Flying Reggi’ and they’ve taken some of his kids and their families out for short trips to the Caribbean on the yacht.”

  Gen is listening, he pays full attention, and Al continues, “Now for the bad parts. Ken Jones drinks too much. His drinking, insulting of wives, falling down, peeing himself, it’s all gotten out of hand. One time he embarrassed Reggi Thomas with his drinking and she left him and flew home to Asheville. He chartered a plane and got to Asheville and met her at the gate. Thomas demanded he go to rehab, and he has, twice, and now he’s finally sober. And I quote from her emails again ‘There’s not much else you can do in the middle of the ocean, except drink,’ end quote. Thomas managed his rehab treatment herself.”

  “They took a privileged cruise together on a pricey shipping line, stayed in the penthouse suite. Dined with the Captain each evening. Danced under the stars.”

  “Ken Jones’s wife died from cancer, and it was a prolonged illness,” Al tells Gen, “I’m reading here, he doesn’t like hospitals. After his wife died, he simply couldn’t stomach hospitals anymore.”

  “Ken Jones has a son in San Francisco, and he’s an attorney and also married to an attorney. Jones has four other children scattered around in Denver and Asheville. One of them he doesn’t speak to. His kids are all taken care of as far as money is concerned. Thomas speaks with one son who appreciates her effort in having him stop drinking. His name is Peter. One of the other kids thinks she’s a gold digger.”

  Finally, Gangi stops reading and talking and when he looks up, he finds Gen is staring at him, “I’m done, that’s the end of the report. So what do you think?”

  After a long pause and deep thinking, Gen says, “I’m more interested in what Reggi’s thinking.”

  ◆◆◆

  After a while, it’s apparent Gen needs some alone time and he asks Gangi to head out and grab some steaks. He wants to take a walk and think this through. They’ll share a meal tonight and use the new grill that arrived a couple of days ago. It’s on the deck, and even though it’s late March, the weather is cooperating today. The birds are beginning to return from their migrations, making nests. The deck hosts a couple of tall gas heaters and maybe they’ll have a drink or two while they discuss what all this means.

  As Gangi makes his way out of the complex, he’s driving slowly along well-manicured roads, with neighbors out walking their pets, waving and smiling. He waves back and smiles and impulsively wants to run them over, or at least he gave it a comical thought or two. Of course, he would never do that, right? “We’re not in Chicago anymore,” he says out loud. Waving and smiling, smiling and waving. People are way too polite around here, and he knows that they’re the same everywhere with their jealousies and hatreds. Still, the South has an allure not found anywhere else, and the Smokey Mountains are its pinnacle. He’ll tolerate the hellos and smiles to live here. Anyway, Daphne’s here. His mind wanders to Gen; maybe this Reggi Thomas has what he needs. She definitely has a thing for Ken Jones. He guesses she doesn’t know who he really is, which is good.

  After he buys some choice ingredients for a man’s dinner to be shared by two old friends, he’s headed back and arrives at Gen’s. While marinating the sirloins and making some garlic butter for the potatoes, Gen walks in, and he’s got that look on his face. He’s drawn a conclusion and made a decision or two and Al thinks, I hope he doesn’t want to kill anyone, as he stares at Gen’s expression. Slowly, Gen’s eyes train themselves on Al and they’re reading each other’s minds, and they know it. Each strangely divine what the other is thinking, kind of, or at least they believe they can. It’s a big reason why they stayed together all these years, and it blends with trust. Almost since the time they met in the sixties, when Al’s dad Gianni introduced him to Gennarro, it’s been that way. As they both grew older, each knew and felt they would work together and be friends forever, be loyal forever.

  So Al’s not surprised when Gen announces, “I’m not killing anyone…yet.”

  ◆◆◆

  “Steaks are perfect, Gen,” Al tells him after he stuffs another bite full in. It’s a pretty big meal, with the steak taking most of each other’s plates, but they spread out anyway and put their potatoes in its own saucer, loaded with sour cream and chives, bacon bits and butter nearby. Italian opera sonatas play in the background and the rich cherrywood table affords them the room they need to seat themselves comfortably with their full wine glasses. Things are calmer now, eating always has that effect on men, and they continue with their meal in silence with an occasional observation about the baseball season soon arriving, or the boat Gangi wants to get before the weather becomes warm so it arrives and is in the water, ready for the season. Whether he’s going to put it in Lake Lure or Bowen Lake first. They talk about fishing, but neither really has an interest in that.

  After they finish and clear the table, they stop by the liquor cabinet and grab the Woodford Reserve, a couple of tumblers filled with ice, and cigars that they stuff into their mouths as they head to the deck. Gen turns the heaters on, and the boys relax in the cool evening overlooking the downward sloping property below them. The sky above is filled with stars and a bright, white half moon. A light breeze blows through the tall pine trees. There’s little movement out in the distance or here on the deck as they contentedly pull on their smokes and drinks alternately.

  Gen speaks up, quietly, “I gave a lot of thought to what Roger found. It’s comprehensive, this full work-up on Reggi. It lays a lot of problems out there and complicates things with me. Her daughter Charlotte sounds like a piece of work. I mean, Al, we’ve seen so many people self-destruct over the years. What the hell is wrong with them?”

  Gangi knows it’s his turn to listen, but Gen will need some advice, and he looks over at him in the darkness, the lights from the living room shining behind them. Gen will ask, and Al knows the counsel he’ll give, but it can wait. At this stage in life, you don’t want to make any mistakes at all. You need to be careful with what you do and how you do it. Careful with people you know and people you don’t know.

  “We know a lot more now, and I think I know what I want to do. I know you think, Al, that I go around laying suspicion on everyone, that I think everybody killed Elsie, that I’m wild with anger and frustration,” and he pauses and bows his head. Then he tells Al, sadly, quietly, slowly, “I am. I do. I’m lost.”

  After a pause, Gen looks up and over to Al, “I think about her all the time. I remember our life together. She kept me from becoming consumed with our business. Kept me from becoming a shitty person.” He pauses again, “She was a good cook, too,” and they laugh together.

  Al tells Gen darkly, “We made Riggoti good for it. That was a sanctioned hit.”

  “I know, but it’s eating at me. The bottom line is someone did kill her. That’s a fact. And now we know Reggi Thomas has information we want. I’ll tell you this; if Reggi is involved, and I don’t care if it’s just as a witness, in Elsie’s death, I’m going to take her close to death’s door,” Gen finishes angrily.

  After a while, he’s calmed down and he asks Al, “What do you think?”

  Al speaks clearly and slowly, “Patience. We see a lot of things play out all by themselves. We might find this to fall into our lap if we just watch it for a short time. Then we’ll know what she knows. In the meantime, I’ll ask Roger to check in with his source weekly at the stationhouse and keep us up to date. When Reggi Thomas spots who she believes was at the top of your driveway, then we’ll know everything for sure.”

  At this, Gen releases a cloud of bluish smoke up into the black of night, takes a sip from his bourbon, looks over at Al and says,

  “She better fuckin’ hurry up.”

/>   Chapter 15 Addie and Frank

  April

  I know of no greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, without end. Franz Kafka

  Frank looks out through his small window as the jet lands smoothly, wondering if this is going to turn out to be his new home one day, here in Asheville. He likes the mountains, and, even though he’s lived in Manhattan most of his life, he’s been kind of a nature buff. He likes the outdoors, and Asheville has plenty of that. He makes a mental note to look at a little real estate. He looks through his window again as the plane pulls up to the gate. It’s bright and sunny this morning. The air is still and looks clean and crisp, like after a morning rain.

  Then his mind turns to Adelaide. She’s waiting for him, at the checkpoint, and he’s hoping they’ll pick up where they left off five weeks ago, as natural as two people can be with each other. That their conversation and the way they act with each other is easy and welcoming, and comfortable. Like they’ve known each other for a long time. But of course, they haven’t, and he feels that’s going to be the excitement they’ll both be riding the undercurrent of. His seat on the aircraft is towards the front, and he disembarks quickly after the door has been opened, nodding to the pilots and attendants.

  He has to stop himself from running. He feels like a foolish kid, excited to see his girlfriend. With an effort, he calms himself down, and, at that instant, he sees her, and she sees him, and he picks up his pace and runs through the checkpoint exit, picks her up in his arms and kisses her. Still holding her, she looks fondly at him, eyes clearly set on locking with his, smiling broadly, and tells him softly, “Hello, Frank, I missed you, a lot.” As he puts her down, the security detail at the checkpoint are staring at them. Addie stares back and they hide their heads. They know who she is, and they watch her turn with him and leave. Frank and Addie are oblivious as they disappear into the terminal towards baggage claim, and the TSA staff begins to talk amongst themselves giddily.

  “I’m not due back to the stationhouse for three days, Frank. We can do anything you want to do,” she adds sexily, suggestively. Handing him the keys, their hands meet, they’re warm, and she looks into his eyes, “You drive.”

  Taking the keys, Frank turns his head and swallows. He’s finding it hard to think and he struggles to keep calm, “Sure, Adelaide,” he tells her haltingly.

  Once inside, they’ve both calmed down a little, and he turns the engine over and begins to drive away, “The doctors tell me I’ve completed my rehab, that I’m one hundred percent. I’ve got full movement in my shoulder, and the pins they put in can come out in four months, after the bones have fused.”

  Addie laughs a little, “You telling me this as a way of saying that I’m not going to break you?”

  Frank is laughing with her, “I guess. You caught me! I guess I want you to know I’m ok and back to normal.”

  They pull into a space in front of her garden apartment and shut the engine down. As they both reach for their seatbelt release their hands meet again and freeze. Frank takes her hand in his and he strokes her soft skin with his thumb as he uses his other hand to brush aside her curls covering her eyes. He finds her looking at him, and her lips are slightly parted. He gives her a long, lingering kiss wet with passion. That’s the only trigger needed, and they can’t wait any longer. Each other’s eyes predict the future plainly and they fight with the doors to get out of the car. Frank doesn’t even take his travel bag, and they quicken their pace to her front door. The door is controlled by fingerprint, and it opens with a soft click. They’re inside and breathing heavily, and they throw themselves at each other, trying to take each other’s clothes off, buttons unfastened, clasps unhooked, and zippers being pulled. Frank hears a button pop and roll around on the floor, and Addie gives him her best casualty of war look.

  He reaches for her again and they’re almost fully unclothed. Their hands are all over each other, searching and touching, holding and stroking. When they break briefly, Addie runs for the bedroom and Frank gives her a head start to be fair. When he begins to charge after her, she releases a tiny screech as he grumbles lowly, reaching her just as she falls on the bed and they’re in each other's arms. Their lips are on each other’s, and his tongue is finding its way as she willingly allows him to dominate her for the moment.

  She begins to stroke his penis, finding it very hard as Frank responds to her touch. His hand is at the top of her pubis. He’s found her clitoris and he begins to titillate faster, then slower, then faster again. Over and over, they’re enjoying each other’s body and the pleasure they give to one another, trying to delay intercourse.

  Unable to wait any longer, after they’ve been exploring each other’s bodies, he rises to his knees and she parts her legs in expectation. He slowly, gently enters her and they begin the rhythm of lovers, as old as time itself. They find themselves laughing and groaning, moaning and thrusting ever harder. She’s given up on trying to slow him down and is writhing below him, her hands clasped on the small of his back, stroking its length to his shoulder blades with her nails. Her legs are wrapped and locked behind him as his hands find her intimate places, and their lips are searching each other wildly.

  Before he can reach his climax, she pulls him down and beside her on the bed and has soon mounted him, her knees next to his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist with one hand on each cheek, squeezing and releasing, her full breasts hanging before him. He begins to take them in his hands and massage them; her nipples are erect, and she is groaning louder and louder with each rise and fall.

  Frank begins to laugh and smiles at how loud she’s becoming. He tries to cover her mouth, but she pushes it away. He tells her in mock fear, “Adelaide! They’re going to call the cops!”

  She looks down, her smoky, glazed eyes are fixed on him. She’s nearing her climax and says loudly to him, huskily, “I AM THE COPS!”

  Addie releases herself along with Frank’s orgasm in two long groans in unison. She rests her head on his chest, and the two of them begin laughing crazily.

  ◆◆◆

  Over brunch, Addie’s wearing her deep blue, terrycloth robe, and Frank has his cotton pajama bottoms on. He’s leaned in over his plate eating fried eggs, sopping up the yolk with his toast. Addie’s seated with her legs crossed, scooping yogurt sprinkled with granola into her mouth. They’re both famished and don’t say much, listening to the birds outside the kitchen window, sunlight shining through. After a while, they’re done, and it’s very peaceful. The weather has turned warm in the past twenty-four hours, and they feel it’s all just for them.

  “I thought tomorrow you could give me a tennis lesson,” she suggests. “I bought a Babolat for each of us. The tennis pro guessed your grip size, and Frannie confirmed it after sneaking a look in your closet, finding your rackets.”

  “Those rackets are pretty expensive. Can I pay for half?” Seeing her hurt face, he quickly blurts out, “Forget I said that. Please don’t beat me!”

  “You pay for the court time and charge me an honest fee for instruction, and I’ll provide the equipment,” she bargains.

  After a pause, he innocently asks, “We still talking about tennis?”

  As she slaps at his arm, she tells him she’s going to take a shower. After she stands to leave the room, she stops at the door and looks back at him, “You coming?”

  ◆◆◆

  The shower is steaming the room, Addie likes it that way, and she disrobes and steps inside, letting the waterfall showerhead drench her. She tilts her head backward to let her hair wash away from her face, and that’s how Frank finds her when he steps inside, arched, her head tilted, naked, beautiful, toned. She heard the door open and close and slowly brings herself forward to see him. She is instantly aroused. At fifty-four, he is a chiseled, muscular, handsome man. He looks pretty much like the picture she was inspecting at his mother’s home that day last year. Only better, and, she thinks, naughtily, probably because he’s not wearing anyt
hing. Addie, you have hit the jackpot with this man.

  “I can read your thoughts,” he teases. He caught her looking him over.

  She’s a little surprised; maybe he can read her thoughts. She soaps a sea sponge quickly and proffers it to him as she turns around, “Would you?” she asks.

  He steps closer, and, with his hand on her hip, places the sponge on her shoulder, the warm shower falling all around them. He slides it down to the small of her back, then brings it back to her shoulder and repeats. And then one more time and he brings the soft sponge to her buttocks and begins to wash her. He reaches down and kisses her neck, and she closes her eyes and tilts her head to her right to let him in. Now the sponge has moved to her belly and it glides down and then up to her breast. His left hand has reached down and is finding her intimate place and he begins a circular motion with his middle finger, pressing firmly. Still kissing her neck, she begins to moan softly as she opens her mouth to receive some water. She’s suddenly very thirsty. She can feel his erect penis behind her, and she reaches for it. They stroke each other softly, over and over. Slowly she turns to him. They stare into each other’s eyes and she takes a seat on the tiled bench inside the steamy shower.

  There is no way they will make it to the bedroom.

  ◆◆◆

  They’ve decided to take a nap and conceded to each how tired they are. Dinner tonight will be downtown at this kitschy Japanese place, followed by craft cocktails in the local bar scenes. Frank and Addie are dressing in separate rooms. They agreed to do that after the morning, and then shower, episodes. If they’re going to make it out, then they have to put clothes on. When Addie enters the living room, she sees Frank is already dressed, “Hello, handsome.”

  As he begins to move toward her, Addie opens her eyes wide and she cautions, “Observe the five-foot rule, Frank, don’t come any closer.”