There was an area for his business. An old wooden chair on wheels, something out of a nineteen forties novel, sat in front of a desk. The desk was oak wood that had seen better days. Numerous scratches and carvings were in the wood. A pile of papers lay on top of it. Some papers were in the tray marked in and some were in the tray marked out and some were just scattered on top. To the side of the desk was a modern computer table, with a Dell computer, monitor and printer on it. He had three older file cabinets to one side, holding all his work information. There was also a safe, which he said held very little money but some very important papers.
As we walked into the room I noticed he had some Penthouse magazines lying out on a table. “Hey,” I said as I helped myself to a can of Diet Coke from his mini-fridge, “are you not afraid your mom will see these magazines?”
“I’m twenty years old now; she can’t say anything to me. Besides, she came up here once and I yelled at her to stay out. She has never tried to come back up,” he said as he looked out his front window. “I just want to see if anyone from the department followed you here.”
“Why? What’s up? Why are you not working today?”
“Aw, it’s the Chief. He said he received a complaint about me not doing my job. What an asshole. What did you hear at work?”
“Nothing. They said you called and I came over.”
I took a drink of my soda. “Did you do anything wrong that you know of?” I asked.
“No. I was at the school as I am every day watching for the illegally parked cars. That was my assignment. Then I did my other duties,” he explained.
“What are you going to do?” referring to the Chief’s complaint.
He looked out the window again, “I think I’m just going to quit. I make five times more pay being an electrician. I don’t need the hassles I have at the police department. Besides I could make even more going full time. I’ve seen some condos down in Florida that I want to buy.”
He did have a profitable gig as a electrical contractor. He learned the trade as a teenager and started his own business as soon as he could. He had the gift of gab and people trusted him. He also did good work and word of mouth helped him continue to get jobs.
“Hey, there’s Sammy Bowlinger.” Jeffrey knocked on the window and motioned Sammy up. He then turned looked at me; he had an ear-to-ear smile. He went over to the stairs and called out, “Come on up. Police officer Carver is here.”
Sammy came up the stairs looked at me then Jeffrey. He was wearing typical ten years old clothes. Nike shoes dark blue shorts, and a tee shirt with a Bevis and Butthead cartoon. It read, “Look at those.” It showed a picture of Bevis and Butthead looking through a wood fence at three naked girls. I thought perhaps a little much for a ten-year-old, but then again, maybe not.
I asked Sammy where he got the nifty shoes. “From Jeffrey, he gets me a lot of things. He says my parents should buy them for me but since they don’t, he does.” Sammy kept looking at me as he spoke. “Is that your police car outside?”
“Yes it is. Do you want to see the inside of it?”
“Sure.” Sammy was already running down the stairs and out the door before I could get turned around and moving towards the stairs. By the time I was walking towards the car on the driveway Sammy had been around the car twice.
“Policemen are great. Like Jeffrey.” He said peering into the passenger side front window. “Your car is different than Jeffrey’s. You have a shot gun.”
I opened the doors so he could look at the radios, radar gun, and I showed him how the overhead lights worked. When he reached for the shotgun I told him he could not touch that. That it was dangerous.
Sammy asked if he could go for a ride. I told him I was sorry but not this time. It was policy no one could ride in the car with you unless the supervisor approved it.
“How late can you stay out?” Jeffrey asked Sammy.
“About an hour.”
“Want to play some video games?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I guess I’ll go,” I said. They both said goodbye and started to walk back into the garage. I started up my car and started to back out onto the street. Just before pulling away I looked up at the window. I noticed Jeffrey looking out. Then the blinds closed.
Chapter 15
I was sitting in my backyard on the pool deck waiting for friends and family for our annual pool party with a cocktail in hand. I can hardly believe four years have gone by since I first met Stephanie. We already had one son and another baby was on its way. Stephanie can really put on a party. She’s flying all around the yard and house everything must be just right. As for me people coming over will just make a mess so why bother. Guess that’s the difference in men and women.
First to arrive is Keith Sommers; he has his hands full. He is carrying the normal case of beer, some different kinds of chips, and four CD’s, all for your drinking, eating, and listening pleasure. “Timmy, you have to listen to this guy, I think you’ll like his music, his name is Jimmy Buffett.”
“I’ll throw them on now,” I said. I put them in the changer and got my first lesson on how I wanted to live. “Keith, what do you say, me and you on a beach?”
“As long as Stephanie can come to cook.” He loved her cooking and he always told me she would make me fat. “Who all did you invite?”
“Well some family, some friends, and some work people,” I said knowing he would not like everyone that was coming, mainly the Deputy Chief.
“Who did you ask from work?” he asked.
“You know the regular posse, and Deputy Chief Sanchez.” I knew he would not like the fact the Deputy Chief was coming but he was standing in the area when I invited others. Phillip Sanchez never worked a shift in his life it seemed. He went right from out of the police academy to detectives, to Sergeant, to Deputy Chief. Talk about the golden spoon up your ass.
“Oh, come on. You’re kidding?” It wasn’t people really hated him, or was it? It was more that you could never relax, be yourself around him. He would be laughing with you one moment then writing down what you said about so and so the next and tell that person what you said.
“Who knows,” I said, “maybe he’ll do something really stupid.”
By this time with the music playing, Keith and I had popped a few tops, and things were going nice. “Having a good time?” Stephanie asked.
Well I was, but due to the tone of her voice I knew it was coming to an end, and soon. “Just waiting for my next job you will be giving me,” I said with a big shit-eating grin on my face.
“It’s all right, just making sure the coolers stay full.”
“You have a great girl there.” Keith said as we watched her walk back into the house.
“I know, she’s starting a new job next week, she is being hired as a nurse’s aide. She wants to be a flight attendant, but is afraid to fly. Do you see a problem there?” I asked Keith. We were now both laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Stephanie asked. The laughing stopped. Keith and I looked at each other then busted out laughing again. “Never mind,” she said.
As the night wore on several more people kept coming in. Jeffrey Motter showed up. Stephanie and I got him alone in the kitchen to ask him an important question. “Jeff, we’ve both talked this over,” I said, “and we would like you to be our new baby’s God-father.”
“I can’t believe it. Really? I’ve never had such an honor. Certainly I will.” Jeff was beaming with pride. He had become very close to us and we did a lot for each other. To me it seemed like the right thing to do. I felt he would always look out for the baby’s well being and keep our baby from harm.
Later Clifford Russle, who was sitting with Keith and me, said, “Hey, here comes the new guy.” Climbing up onto the pool deck was Evan Tonka. He had just started five weeks earlier. Unfortunately, he had not a clue what he was about to get himself into. “Hey Evan, over here,” said Clifford, or would it be better to say the spider to the fly. “Did yo
u ever wrestle in school?”
Evan replied, “Some.”
Ever pool wrestle?” Clifford asked.
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Let’s go.”
Stephanie and her sister were watching this all take place. “There is too much testosterone seeping out right now. I’ve seen it before with these guys.”
Into the pool they went with a splash. Moves like you never had seen before, until the thumb of Evan went into a position I’m sure it never was in before. After the initial, “Ouch,” out asserted the macho, “I’m all right.”
Stephanie looked at it. Shaking her head she said, “Broken.”
“Just stings. Got another beer?” Evan asked.
“Hey Timmy, your dog must be hungry.” Keith told me. I turned to look at my dog Sheba. She was one of those dogs with the bad habit of eating her poop. Of course, I felt it was just another form of recycling.
Just then Deputy Chief Sanchez came out of the house. He saw Sheba running around people seated at tables. Since no one was with him she became a focus for him. “Here girl, come here.” He called to her. Did I say she was a very loving dog? She ran right up to him and proceeded to lick his face all over. It was particularly nice when he stuck out his tongue. “Timmy your dog loves me.”
“You and eating shit,” whispered Keith. “You were right to invite him Timmy. This will be the best story of the night,” as we both smiled, started to chuckle, then ended up rolling on the deck with laughter.
A couple more guys working the late shift showed up stating they had a shity night. “So did Sanchez,” said Keith. The laughter started all over again, as “Wasted away again in Margaritaville” played in the background.
Chapter 16
Jeffrey Motter was doing quite well for himself. He was always busy with his electrical contracting business. In all probability he was making lots of money as he had purchased three condominiums in Florida. He had asked me if my family and I wanted to go down for a visit, to show us his new places.
With Stephanie in the last stages of her pregnancy we took a rain check. “Open invite,” he would say.
Jeff was also helping out Sammy Bowlinger. Sammy was now eleven and had known Jeff for three or four years. Sammy would complain that he never had money so Jeff offered him a job working with him. Jeff would often say that was how he started.
He paid Sammy very well, more than would be expected. Jeff would say it’s cheaper than actually hiring someone and paying taxes and insurance on him.
Sammy worked every other weekend. His parents didn’t like him working that much, but Sammy liked the money.
One bright Saturday, around 10:00 a.m., I stopped by at Jeff’s place. I knew he was home because his work truck was on the driveway.
I went to the door of his office. I tried to open it. It was locked. I rang the bell and waited a few minutes. Still there was no answer. Maybe he was in his parent’s house.
I rang their doorbell and his mother came to the door within a few seconds. She was probably in her fifties and looked like someone out of a nineteen forties novel. Her hair was drawn back into a bun with not much makeup on her face, if any. She was a slight woman, never raising her voice or troubled by much. She seemed intelligent, although she seemed to miss many things going on around her. I was never sure if this was on purpose or she legitimately didn’t understand things.
“Good morning Mrs. Motter. Is Jeffrey home?” I asked.
“Why, he should be in his office. I know he said he had some paperwork that had to get done. Did you ring the bell?” She seemed somewhat upset that she could not help me more. But that was just the way she was, she couldn’t help you more.
“I did ring the bell. Maybe I just didn’t wait long enough for him to get to the door. I’ll try again.”
“Jeff told me he asked you and your wife to go to Florida with him. His places are so nice down there. He said he’s going to buy one for me and his father, for our very own.” You could tell by the look on her face it was a proud parent talking about her child.
“Yeah. We can’t go now with the baby on the way and all, but we’ll get there some time. I’ll see you later Mrs. Motter.”
“Bye,” she said as she closed the door.
I walked back to the office door. One more try then I would have to get back to work. I rang the bell. I then heard footsteps running down the stairs from the office area.
Sammy answered the door. He was wearing only shorts. “Hello officer Timmy,” I was just changing to my work clothes. Jeffrey and I are gonna be going out soon,” Sammy said.
He let me in then ran back upstairs. I followed, but at a much slower pace. The more stairs you walked the hotter it got. It must have been eighty degrees upstairs.
A video game was playing and Sammy ran right over and started to play the game. He was sitting crossed legged on the bed. From the bathroom I heard Jeff yell, “No cheating out there.”
Jeff came out of the bathroom wearing his work clothes. He had his mother sew shirts for him with the name Motter Electric on the pockets. She had done a nice job with the printing. “What brings you out?” he asked me as he walked over and pushed Sammy down onto the bed.
“Hey,” Sammy yelled. “I’m about to beat you.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to bother you.”
Sometimes Jeff was more like a kid than kids themselves.
“Doesn’t seem fair to me,” I said to Sammy.
“It’s not,” was his reply, never taking his eyes off of the game. “I just don’t like to lose.”
“I just stopped by. No reason,” I answered Jeff. “I talked to your mom. She said you were going to buy her and your dad a place down south.”
“Yes. I’ve found a great place. Three bedrooms, two baths, and like all the rest, right on the ocean. It has a great view. My business is really starting to take off. Would like something to drink?”
“No thanks. I have to go.”
“Sammy and I are just going to hang around here today. You know, take a day off.”
“I thought you guys were just going to work?” I questioned.
“We were, but why work when you can play. The work will wait,” Jeffrey answered.
Chapter 17
Two weeks on the day shift and no hot calls. Mostly it has just been traffic stops and loose dogs. The weather had been nice though, mid eighties, sunny, slight breeze. I was driving around with the window open getting my trucker’s tan. Stephanie often said that if the rest of my body were as tan as my left arm, my tan would be perfect.
I stopped to do some stationary patrol in the parking lot of an apartment complex. The Duncan Apartments on Duncan Avenue was a fairly quiet neighborhood. They would have their occasional flair up but all in all a good place.
There were five seven-story buildings. They had all been newly painted and the walkways had been replaced with new cement. The pool was by looks at capacity. You could hear the happy yelling of the children. Of course there was the lifeguard’s whistle going off every now and then. And the sound of a boy saying, “She pushed me first.” Ah, the old retaliatory catch. You know like in hockey where the defensive player has just laid you out with a shove into the boards and a stick to the face, and you get up push him back. The whistle goes off and you’re in the penalty box. This was probably the same injustice going on here. Poor kid.
There were grounds people mowing the lawn and weeding the flowers. They had several flowerbeds. Very well designed and located where the most amount of foot traffic would see them. Some residents were walking on the walking trail that led around the lake and into the four-acre forest preserve. The lake had several tree branches eight to ten inches wide lying in the water near the shore. Every now and then a fish would break the water.
Some of the kids had built forts in the woods. The police would make checks on these forts to make sure no drug activity was going on there. The apartment management also made checks and every now and then w
ould have their maintenance people tear them down. I thought by having them it gave the kids a place to hang out and you knew where to find them. Only when the gang signs showed up should they be torn down.
A small boy was standing near the lake with his father; he must have caught a fish by his yelling and pulling of his fishing rod. His father helped him get it out. The proud boy held it up for a picture then released it. He looked to be around eight or nine years old, how wonderful to be of an age that there are really no worries.
There were some older kids, paired off in couples boy and girl, walking side by side. Some holding hands some just standing and talking. You could hear the birds singing and chirping from the trees. There were families sitting at the picnic tables and cooking out on the fire pits. There were blankets on the ground with some people talking and some people tanning. Over by the trees was a man with a camera with a huge lens taking pictures of the birds.
The basketball courts were in play with two teams going for the championship. The parking lot was doubling as an auto shop as several men and one woman were working on their cars.
I pulled my police car to a far corner of the parking lot. I didn’t want to get too close to hinder anyone from having a good time and I could view most of this end of the complex. Sometimes mere police presence made people jumpy while it made others feel safe. I backed my car into a parking space and munched on my lunch while looking out at the lake and woods.
A group of boys, ages from seven to ten, came up to the police car. I put my sandwich down and got out of the car to talk with them. After a little talk of what they were doing on the playground, the seven-year-old Shawn said, “Should we tell him?” The ten-year-old Axel slapped him on the head.
My Justice My Revenge Page 5