by Ted Clifton
Mesilla, New Mexico / Las Cruces, New Mexico
Pat woke up feeling amazingly good. Sally was probably going to be the cause of his demise, but as of right now she made him feel twenty years younger. He knew this couldn’t be anything but a fling, but he still didn’t want it to end. Lingering in his mind were all of the reasons this was wrong, not only for him but for Sally and Bugs and Mike—Jeez, who was it right for? Knowing all of that gave him pause—but then Sally came in from the veranda and took his breath away. She was beautiful, smiling, young, and alive like no one he’d ever known—it was so exhilarating to be with her.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Well, good morning to you sleepyhead. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to get up before noon or not.” Sally smiled, enjoying teasing him as she twirled her skirt and sashayed around the room.
“I tell you what, I feel much better than I would have thought after the day we had yesterday. I want to thank you again for a wonderful day—and night.”
“Aren’t you sweet? I think this New Mexico air agrees with you, Pat.”
“I think you agree with me.”
Her smile lit the room as she approached him with a playfully seductive set of dance steps. After a little snuggling, Pat decided he needed to redirect his attention to the things he had to get done that day. He would play with Sally later. Gently easing Sally into one of the chairs in the room, he gave her his schedule for the morning. “Headed into Cruces to meet with Emerson. My guess is that it will take about two hours. After that I’m going to drop by to meet with a new attorney I’m hiring to deal with some business stuff down here for me. So, probably be back by one or so if you want to get a late lunch around that time?”
“That’s perfect, Pat. How long are we going to stay in Las Cruces?”
“I think I can finish everything today, so we’d head back tomorrow morning. I’m going to meet one of my associates from Texas in Oklahoma City on Friday, so I’ll need to get back. I told you it would be a short trip.”
“No, that’s fine, I was just wondering. I kind of like flying in, doing stuff, and then flying out—like we’re big shots.”
“Hey, I am a big shot!”
“Really Pat, give me a break.”
He loved the way she never let him take himself too seriously. Pat really wanted to cancel his meeting with Emerson and stay and play, but duty called. He called Emerson and asked to be picked up in front of the hotel in about thirty minutes. Sally gave him a quick peck and said she was going to sun a little on the veranda—maybe even have a siesta.
After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, Pat got a cup of coffee and walked outside. He really did like it here—something about the air, the mountains, and the friendly people just made it feel comfortable to him.
Emerson was right on time. Pat got in and they headed into downtown to the little office where Blue Devils Development was located. The office included a reception area, two offices, a conference room, and a storage room with a bathroom. They settled into the conference room, which was furnished in a no-nonsense style—just a work table and serviceable chairs—no wasted money here. Pat liked that approach to business.
“Jim, we’ve only worked together a short while, and so far you’ve done well. You seem to have a real knack for this record-keeping stuff. Also, your dealings with my friends in Juarez have been smooth, and they’ve said very good things about you.” They actually hadn’t said much, but Pat was feeling generous. “Coordinating the shipments from El Paso into Oklahoma has gone without a hitch for the nine months you’ve been overseeing things. All in all, I would say you deserve a promotion.”
Jim looked pleased, although Pat still had a problem reading exactly what he was thinking. Jim had been introduced to Pat by an acquaintance in El Paso who had gone to school with him. He’d recommend Jim and said he could be trusted—exactly what that meant, Pat was still trying to figure out. The guy in El Paso was someone who knew Pat’s Juarez suppliers and they had given the man a good recommendation, which had given Pat the confidence to hire Jim in the first place.
Their first meetings covered what Pat did and how it could be viewed as both illegal and dangerous. Jim seemed to accept and understand that most of the business information would have to be kept quiet.
“I’m going to put all properties and operations under BDD. I want you to be an officer of the company and keep all of the records here in Las Cruces. Obviously, that gives you more responsibility, and considering what drives all of this, also creates more risk for you. With the risk will be more reward. Starting immediately you’ll be Vice President, and I’m increasing your pay thirty percent.” Pat watched Emerson closely, but saw very little reaction.
“What do you think, Jim, is this something that you want to do?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Allen. This has been a great opportunity for me and I won’t let you down.”
Well, at least he said the right things. Maybe this cold fish exterior was a good thing—nobody could tell if he was lying or not. Pat was still not a hundred percent sure, but he really didn’t have any options. He couldn’t run an ad in the paper: right-hand man for bootlegger, must be detail oriented, keep his mouth shut, and be willing to lie if necessary—please send resume to Bootlegger Pat. At this point Pat was comfortable moving forward with Emerson—if it didn’t work he would figure out something else.
“Okay, let’s get this working. I’m headed over to Bill Bates’ office to discuss some legal matters with him. I’m going to ask him to put together the paperwork for your promotion and then get it back to you for your signature. I think this is going to work for both of us. Just remember to keep me informed, and the most important thing is keep me informed when things go wrong—never hide the bad news—okay?”
Emerson agreed. Pat borrowed Emerson’s car and headed over to the attorney’s office. Pat had requested on his last trip that Bates put all of his holdings under the umbrella company Blue Devils Development, Inc. All the ownership certificates were in Pat’s name. The only officers were Pat and Emerson. And Pat had made an offer on a cabin in T or C owned by a local man whom Pat had met at a dinner party during his last trip to Las Cruces. Bud Johnson was the guy’s name and he was in the same business as Pat, sort of, but he was mostly selling booze illegally to the Indians. Pat thought he was a moron.
Pat wanted Bates to finalize the purchase and put the property in his wife’s maiden name: Elizabeth Ruth Hall. Pat was not real sure what he was going to do with it, although in the back of his mind he thought it might be a little hideaway he could use after he got out of the booze business. He was thinking maybe he could bring his wife and son and enjoy a real vacation without worrying about being killed or arrested.
This was happening more and more with Pat. He was managing his business activities and, at the same time, he was planning how he would get out. This trip with Sally had been a blast, but he couldn’t ignore his increased risk from the Texans, the rumors that the feds were looking to bust up the bootlegging business in Oklahoma, and of course his desire for a slower, more sane life. His fantasies about rowdy adventures were becoming fewer and were more commonly about tranquil family time. He was as surprised as anybody at this turn of events. But then he thought about Sally and decided maybe he would give up rowdy in a month or two—not right now.
After wrapping up his business with Bates, Pat drove back to the office and had Emerson take him to the hotel. He told Emerson he would take him to dinner next time he was in Las Cruces—tonight he was going to bed early. He would have to be up early in the morning to fly back to OKC. He also let Emerson know that he’d made arrangements to have the hotel staff take him to the airstrip in the morning. Pat and Emerson both knew that the dinner wouldn’t happen next time—they were both too involved in their own thoughts to notice that neither of them cared.
Pat found Sally resting in their suite. The setting was lovely and the mood prompted some spontaneous love making. Se
x in the middle of the day with the most beautiful woman in the world had Pat smiling so large as to possibly risk injury. He ordered some appetizers from room service and they spent the rest of the afternoon in bed.
Sally and Pat had another great dinner, this time at the hotel restaurant. The hotel staff was extremely attentive and made them feel like royalty. After dinner they went for a leisurely walk around the plaza, music all around them. They decided not to go dancing tonight. Pat appreciated Sally’s subtle understanding that he was no spring chicken. She said she just wanted to buy some souvenirs from the shops on the Plaza and go back to the hotel to rest. She bought—or Pat bought for her—a variety of trinkets that all seemed to please her. She even got a couple of things for Pat’s wife and son. Sally was a strange contradiction, and Pat found himself always just a little bit confused around her.
As they walked around the Plaza, a mariachi band began to play in the gazebo. The music was enticing, and before long a crowd had gathered. Sally was beaming, and soon she began to dance. Pat stood back and watched—as did several other people. Sally dancing was a joy to all manhood. She laughed as she twirled and Pat thought he’d better step in before she caused a riot—but she grabbed his hand and he danced with her. Soon much of the crowd was dancing to the beautiful, exotic mariachi music.
Pat and Sally danced until her sudden, contagious laugh had them both laughing and dancing and hugging and kissing—he had never felt so alive.
They returned to the hotel and sat on the patio to enjoy the flower-scented night air and have a nightcap.
“Sally, what are your dreams?”
“My dreams? Sounds like a very serious conversation.”
“I’d like to know.” Pat thought this could be some dangerous ground, but he really did want to know. Plus he was feeling pretty mellow.
“When I was little I wanted to get married and have children. I wanted a great big wedding with hundreds of people there—it would have been beautiful.” Sally giggled a little. “Then I got older and marriage didn’t seem all that good. There were plenty of women around our neighborhood who were married and had kids and they seemed to be miserable. I began to think that maybe I wanted something else.”
Pat cautiously interjected, “Yeah, not real sure marriage and kids is all that great for most women.”
“Most of the women I saw looked all washed out—like they hadn’t smiled in months. They worked hard all of the time and mostly just got yelled at. That wasn’t for me. Now you can’t laugh—okay?”
“Sure, okay.”
“I decided I wanted to be a famous business woman. I know it sounds stupid—so few women are in business. I should want to be a movie star or something. But I don’t. I want to move to New York City and live in a tall building and run a major business—maybe something like John A. Browns. Crazy sounding isn’t it?”
“It’s not crazy. I’m just surprised. I would have guessed movie star—you sure are gorgeous enough. Never would have thought about business.”
“I know. Women are stupid—but Pat, I’m not stupid. In school I knew I was smarter than every boy in my class. Now I want to do something that requires me to think, not just be pretty. Hey, maybe I could be your partner?” She began to laugh.
Pat sure hoped she was kidding.
“Sally, you are the most exciting person I have ever known.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Allen. I think you are pretty great yourself.” They laughed and went inside to be together.
Las Cruces, New Mexico / Oklahoma City, Oklahoma / Deep Deuce
Their early departure was rewarded by gorgeous flying weather: a cool morning with no wind made for a turbulence-free flight, first into El Paso for a quick refuel. Taking the same route up to Lubbock, everything was calm and stress-free all of the way to Wiley Post in Oklahoma City.
Sally was almost shy when Pat dropped her off at her apartment. She seemed happy but subdued, lost in her own thoughts—mostly, no doubt, they were about Pat and her. The trip had been wonderful, and it felt like their relationship was changing, becoming more serious.
She was going in to work the next day, a Friday, and agreed to go out with Pat to meet his Texas business associate for dinner that night.
Pat drove away from her apartment, also in a thoughtful mood. He already missed her, although he also felt an odd sense of relief to be alone and headed home. Pat was not a complicated guy, but lately he seemed to be having complicated thoughts. He wasn’t sure he liked it.
Trying to imagine a life that included Sally was easy short-term, but impossible long-term. He knew she was the most appealing person he’d ever been around, but it just wouldn’t work. He was an old man, with a wife and child—what was he going to do, run off with Sally? Well, maybe he wanted to—it just didn’t make any sense. What was he going to do?
Pat was home by late afternoon, but nobody was there. Mike would still be at some kind of after-school activity and Bugs was probably shopping. He went upstairs and decided to take a short nap.
That evening he had an enjoyable dinner with his wife and son, both of whom seemed glad to see him. He was happy to see them, too, and gave them the gifts from Old Mesilla. Bugs seemed very surprised by the gifts and gave Pat a suspicious eye, but said nothing. Mike seemed only a little interested.
The next day, Pat was occupied with various business tasks that required his personal attention. The first was a collection call to one of his older customers who hadn’t paid for his last delivery. Pat always hated this stuff. Everybody knew what was expected: you paid when the product was delivered. Pat wasn’t in the banking business, handing out credit. His old customer begged for some extra time because he was short on cash. Pat made it clear he didn’t care whether they were old friends or not—that wasn’t the way he did business. There would be no more deliveries until he paid, which of course would put him out of business. And Pat would sell the receivable to his business partners in Texas, whom this customer knew of, and thereafter they would handle collections. Suddenly his old friend found the cash. Their friendship was over, but business was business.
He couldn’t get Sally off his mind. Pat was still confused by Sally and had no real answers. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to see her. The afternoon dragged on, and then finally it was time. Pat picked Sally up at her apartment for their evening out, and as soon as he saw her he felt happy. She was ravishing. Sally was so striking—most everywhere she went she turned heads, both men’s and women’s. Pat often found himself just staring at her—she didn’t seem to mind.
They were headed to the Deep Deuce area. This was the predominantly black part of downtown Oklahoma City. There were lots of clubs and live music in this part of town, and it was an area where Pat had a lot of customers. He always felt welcome and enjoyed the party atmosphere of people having a good time. Sally was very excited about going into this somewhat forbidden zone to meet the Texas Italian, John Giovanni.
Pat had told her about some of the history of the neighborhood. That it had been a distinct section of town since the 1920s. It had become a regional center of jazz music, featuring some of the best big band music of the era, including the Oklahoma City Blue Devils. The name came from a gang of fence cutters infamous in the early American West. The Blue Devils had several prominent musicians, including Lester Young and William “Count” Basie.
The area was mostly black during the day, although at night the clubs attracted a mixed-race crowd. The music was some of the best live music most anywhere—but for damn sure the best in Oklahoma City.
Pat pulled up in front of Trevas Supper Club and handed his car off to the valet attendant. His entrance with Sally on his arm created quite a stir. Most people didn’t openly stare, but they watched surreptitiously all the same. The club owner, Willy Trevas, was there to greet Pat and Sally warmly. Willy owned the club, but what many people didn’t know was that he leased the building from Pat. This was one of several real estate investments Pat had made in his home tow
n. Willy immediately showed them into a private room where Giovanni—and a couple of bodyguards—were waiting. To say that Sally made an impression on Giovanni would be a serious understatement. Pat wasn’t sure, but John might have been drooling.
Pat and Sally greeted Giovanni like old friends and settled in with drinks and menus. In the background, from the main room, they could hear the Billy Parker Band playing some restful jazz. The mood was full of promise and anxiety. The bodyguards remained standing in the background, never acknowledged by Pat, Sally, or Giovanni, but their presence was felt by everyone.
Their dinners were delicious. The Trevas Supper Club was famous for serving the best steaks in town. Oklahoma prime beef, direct from the local stockyards, cooked to perfection over a huge open pit with leaping flames. The club also featured the largest baked potatoes ever seen, topped with a full assortment of enhancements. Everyone commented on how good the food was and really seemed to enjoy their meal. After dinner, over drinks, Giovanni got to the point.
“Pat, I hope it is alright to discuss our business in front of Sally?”
“Sure, John. After all, Sally’s the brains of the outfit.”
Sally gave Pat a quick jab, a little harder than necessary.
Giovanni continued with a slight grin on his face, “I always suspected there was someone other than you, Pat, pulling the strings.”
This little exchange seemed to remove some of the tension, although no one thought they were really being friendly. The bodyguards didn’t smile.
“Pat, I’ll get to the point. I think it’s time for you to retire. And I want to help set you up for your retirement years. I’m prepared to offer you a very sweet deal for your Oklahoma and Texas business connections and contacts. How does that sound to you?”
Pat paused. He knew Giovanni wanted his business. He’d always suspected the thug would just kill him and take it—buying it seemed out of character. “Well, John, I appreciate the thought, but you know I’m not sure I’m ready to call it quits quite yet.” The previous level of tension returned. Not too many people said no to Giovanni.