Knights Templar (Sean)

by Ruby Harrison

  You really hurt my feelings last night, not to mention weirded me out quite a bit. I get being scared of feelings, though, so I’m not completely naïve to how someone could panic after having a really good lay. I was also pretty drunk. If I’d been sober, or maybe if I was just less arrogant in general, maybe I would have stayed and laughed it off.

  Jen stared at her phone while the lights of traffic played across the ceiling of her room. She typed in a few words and then deleted them. Absent mindedly tapping on the screen of her phone with a neatly trimmed finger nail she thought of things she could say in response that would make her seem intelligent instead of like a scared little girl that didn’t know how to adapt to her feelings. Just when she was sure that she wouldn’t think of anything her phone buzzed again.

  Are you doing ok, all in all? I mean the whole situation with your work, that’s pretty fucked up.

  Jen smiled to herself, glad that Seth was making the effort to keep a conversation going with her. She thought for a moment before replying.

  Well, idk. I mean, I was thinking on the way home that maybe we should just go to the police?

  Seth’s text was almost immediate.

  I understand that seems like the best option but here’s the deal. Most of the time when we deal with organized crime like this there is an inside man at the cop shop. I’m not saying there is some grand conspiracy down at the police station, but think about human nature. How much money would a beat cop need to look the other way on something? You know what I mean, the tired beat cop that needs a promotion but keeps getting overlooked, how much to buy him off for a little thing. Probably enough to buy something that one of his kids needs, right? Well you do it once and they have you. It never really stops or goes away.

  Jen read his text and her heart sank. He had a good point. There was probably someone in on the whole thing down at the cop shop. Whether or not they were highly involved or just looked the other way was yet to be seen. She typed her message carefully before sending it.

  Maybe we could go to internal affairs though? Idk. Fuck. Well, anyway. I’m just really sorry about yesterday night, especially after you were so cool to me at the bar. Seriously.

  Seth’s text vibrated her phone seconds after she sent her text to him.

  If we do go to the cops remember that there have already been causalities. And I know that you regret it and I’m not holding it against you. Let’s just forget about it all together.

  Jen’s blood ran cold as it really sunk in, finally, after a few months time, that the way she had taken a life had put her squarely outside of the law. Even if they ran to the cops the mob could just say that they had sent someone to her business to talk to her and they had never come back; if the cops asked them why they would do that they could maintain that it was just to talk and nothing else. Jen slowly typed out a response, the last one of the night.

  Well I guess I’m glad I have you guys then, right? Hopefully I see you soon. Night.

  With that she put her phone on the nightstand and fell asleep.

  Chapter Five

  When Jen woke up the day seemed fresh and clean. There wasn’t a cloud over her like she imagined there would be. Sure, in the back of her mind she knew that things were very amiss and there was little she could do about it, but she didn’t let it control her life. She needed to be strong not just for herself but for her students as well. After getting ready she went out and checked the Laundromat to make sure it was doing well. Jen unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  It was still too early for the old woman she had hired to manage it to be in for work so she was all by herself. The machine seemed to be in working order and the floor looked like it had been swept at some point in the last few weeks. Jen moved around the Laundromat looking between the machines and underneath tables to see if anything was amiss. When she stood up from checking the last table a man was standing in the middle of the room with a gun in his hand, staring at her.

  “Don’t do anything crazy, lady,” the man said. “I’m just here to talk.”

  The man wore thick, black sunglasses to obscure his face. The pistol In his right hand hung at his waist with a long thick silencer extending from its tip.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Jen said, spitting the words from her mouth like acid.

  “I just fucking told you. Jesus H. Christ, woman,” the man said. “No wonder you killed Frank for no reason.”

  “Oh, like coming into my business unannounced isn’t reason enough for me to do what I feel is necessary to defend myself?” Jen asked.

  “Frank had a family of fucking five, asshole!” the man said. “He was the nicest mother fucker I have ever come in contact with and you snapped his neck like a toothpick!”

  Jen started to move slowly away from the man, trying to put a line of washing machines between him and her so that she could hit the deck if need be but the man saw and leveled his pistol at her.

  “Don’t move, God damn it,” he said. “Just listen to me for a second, you crazy fuck. I’m just here to talk to you, OK?”

  “Fine,” Jen said. “OK. Well, talk then. What do you want?”

  “My employers want to meet you tonight at 8 pm for dinner at the restaurant right by the synagogue and the theater. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Sure,” Jen said.

  “Wonderful,” the man said as he slowly backed out of the room. “And chill the fuck out lady, there’s no need to be so crazy all the time.”

  The man turned and left before Jen had a chance to say anything in return. She wasn’t sure what to think of the man’s demeanor; whether to find it sardonic or sincere. Jen figured that in the end it didn’t matter and shot Seth a text about their new dinner plans.

  * * * *

  Jen sat in the gourmet deli nestled in between a boutique and the Tattoo parlor Seth worked at. She’d met with the guys at the shop and discussed what would be going on shortly after her interaction with the messenger from the mob that morning. Mike told her she’d need to go home, change, and then sit at the deli the rest of the night. She’d complained saying she needed to run errands like go to the bank and get in touch with her credit union; her health insurance plan was threatening to drop her due to late payments; her mother wasn’t feeling well and had called saying she wanted Jen to visit.

  Nate had chimed in saying that there wasn’t another way. Jen literally couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity to speak with the mob and the meeting place couldn’t have been better. There was only one place to eat around the shop, the deli next door. Earl had talked about putting a camera on some kind of telescoping device and feeding it through the ceiling somehow so that they could watch from inside the shop, maybe rig it for sound or something.

  Wizard hadn’t been too sure about that one, though. As much as Earl was enthusiastic about the spy movie style tactics no one really wanted to rely on something that seemed so hit or miss, so they wired Jen for sound.

  “Seth can follow you home and help you get the bug just right on your attire,” Mike had said. “Wearing a wire isn’t as scary as it used to be. There isn’t some thick microphone running to a bulky recording device. Most of this stuff is pretty streamlined now, and tonight you’ll be wearing a few microphones. They’ll never even notice.”

  Jen looked unsure for a moment, standing in the shop’s drawing room in a semicircle with everyone.

  “Especially if you dress sexy,” Nate said. “You should do that for sure.”

  “Yeah I bet Seth would love to help you with that!” Earl exclaimed with a hoot.

  Jen looked at Earl completely shocked at his jest at her and Seth’s expense.

  “Fucking classy, bro,” Mike said in a deadpan voice.

  Wizard shook his head with an embarrassed look on his face.

  “What?” Earl said adjusting his crotch. “Motherfuckers can’t make jokes anymore?”

  “Maybe sometimes it’s better not to say things that you think,” Seth said. “Just maybe.
”

  Jen had headed home with Seth following close behind. They didn’t have much time to dally if she was going to get to the deli and post up before the dinner rush. She’d pulled into her parking spot, hopped out of her car and rushed into her place leaving the door open for Seth who was following closely.

  Jen showered quickly, barely remembering to shave her armpits before hopping back out of the shower and trotting into her room with a towel half around her waist to find Seth sitting on her bed, his hands cupped in front of him like he was safe guarding something.

  “Damn,” Seth said. “You look really good right now.”

  “Well thanks,” Jen said as she tried to hold her towel up while covering her breasts. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Yes, actually,” Seth said. “Hurry up and get ready to go so I can wire you.”

  Seth stood and turned to leave, but hesitated and turned back to look at Jen over his shoulder.

  “And I picked out your clothes for the night,” Seth said. “Just wanted to make sure that you dressed appropriately.”

  With that, he turned and left the room with a quick stride. Jen turned and looked on the bed behind where Seth had been sitting and found that he had laid clothes out for her, what appeared to be a cocktail dress she hadn’t worn in forever with some ornately designed leggings that she had forgotten she owned. After hurriedly putting the clothes on she stepped out her room into her small living room.

  “How do I look?” Jen asked Seth, who was sitting on her couch starring at her shut off television.

  “You look stunning,” Seth said. And she did.

  The black strapless cocktail dress pushed her b cup breasts into creamy mounds and made her arch her back in a prim and proper way. The fractal designs on her leggings were woven with sheer black lace and contrasted nicely with her skin.

  “You look like a femme fatale from one of those anime movies,” Seth said.

  “Wow,” Jen said. “You sure do know how to pay a girl a back handed compliment.”

  Seth blushed and laughed nervously.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Sometimes it’s hard to go back to regular humor from being at the shop all the time.”

  “It’s no problem,” Jen said. “I’m not offended, really. It was just a strange thing to say is all.”

  Jen sashayed in front of him a few times, doing slow twirls and strutting her stuff on a pretend runway down the middle of the room.

  “Well come here and hold still for a moment so I can bug you,” Seth said. “It’ll only take a moment.”

  “How many bugs am I going to wear,” Jen asked.

  “Just three,” Seth said.

  “Three?” Jen said. “That seems like a lot. Are you sure that isn’t overdoing it?”

  “I’m sure,” Seth said standing up. “Now come here.”

  Jen strutted back to Seth and struck the pose of a soldier saluting as Seth slipped one of the microphones, an obsidian bead, just behind the lip of her bust line.

  “You know, maybe three is too many,” Seth said. “The cocktail dress is perfect but I don’t want to stud you with these things. Not that doing so has gotten anyone caught before, I don’t know. Let’s just use one.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jen said, dropping her salute crisply.

  “Hopefully you are taking this seriously,” Seth said.

  Jen relaxed her posture and bit her lower lip.

  “I am taking it seriously, don’t worry about that,” she said. “But I’m also trying not to bind up over the whole thing. I need to be loose and quick on my feet. Not to mention that I need to be verbally agile and quick witted. No big deal though, I’ve got it all covered.”

  Jen winked at Seth before walking back into her room to find a pair of stiletto heels to go with the outfit that had turned out so flattering. After finding just the right pair she slipped on a slim, form fitting black pea coat that had been made and tailored in France and headed out the door to her car with Seth in tow. The plan, as she understood it from listening to Seth talk while she hunted for the right pair of heels, was to sit and wait to make contact with whoever the mob sent to talk to her.

  From there it was as simple as just talking. Well, maybe saying it was just talking was seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. What was going to happen was that she was going to try to lead whoever was talking to her down a path of conversation that revealed as much as possible about the mob’s intentions and what their desires were.

  Seth had made the good point that, although they assumed they knew what was going on what they really had made were a long litany of conjectures. What Seth’s group needed was information, and as much of it as possible. Even stuff that might not seem absolutely important at the time might prove valuable later.

  Now, sitting in the deli waiting for whomever to walk in, she wondered if she shouldn’t have been more diligent when it came to seeking out specifics of the plan. Jen wondered if Earl was still going to try to jury rig some kind of system for sticking a video camera through the ceiling. As she looked up she wondered how that would even work. When she looked back down she noticed a man standing in front of her with a peculiar smile on his face.

  The man appeared to be of mixed heritage, with a hue to his skin that had something other than just Caucasian. Jen wondered about this for a second, especially since it was the Irish mob shaking her down and this guy didn’t look Irish at all. He looked more Native American than anything else, maybe a few generations removed but definitely enough to be noticed. She wondered what kind of an odd couple a mixed Korean girl and a mixed Native American would make at a deli in Des Moines, Iowa.

  Jen figured that it wouldn’t catch that many glances with the deli in such close proximity to the tattoo parlor, boutique, synagogue and theater.

  “Hello,” the man said. “May I have a seat?”

  “Well, certainly, if you are supposed to join me,” Jen replied.

  The man sat down and peered across the table keenly at Jen.

  “My name is Lars,” the man said. “A pleasure to meet you, Jen.”

  Jen tried not to flinch when Lars used her name but it was hard. She was sure she’d given something away and he’d seen it from the way the corner of his mouth had twitched upward and his eyes had narrowed a bit. This guy was a hunter, and Jen knew it. The wary look that appeared over his face suddenly was there, she knew, because he’d seen her recognize him as someone to keep track of at all times. Now he wanted to come off as some simple errand boy, which he probably was, except that she wasn’t sure why a simple errand boy would need to look like one intentionally.

  Most people in those kind of low places on the totem pole were always trying to look better than they were, especially more important than they were.

  “Well, Lars, should we cut to the chase or beat around the bush?” Jen asked.

  The waiter came by and sat a wine glass in front of each of them.

  “No, thank you,” Jen said.

  The waiter smiled politely and drew back the glass from in front of her.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t drink anymore,” Lars said with a lopsided grin.

  The waiter withdrew his glass as well and turned to quickly walk away, presumably to get them water.

  “Drinking was fun for a short time,” Lars said. “But then it became glaringly evident that it was a negative force in my life that needed to end. Quitting the bottle was good for me and the people close to me, but it was especially good for strangers.”

  The deli was quickly filling up, and from the amount of waiters with wine glasses it was proving to be an upscale kind of place meant to attract white collar types that worked in the insurance hubs nearby that only had an hour lunch break, if that, and wanted to eat and have a drink with friends. For a moment Jen’s neck twisted as her head tracked a sandwich being brought out by a waiter that looked incredible, then, as if remembering where she was, her attention focused back on Lars.

  “Good for strangers, eh?
” Jen said. “Yes, what is also good for strangers is to not drop by my work unannounced. That shit is hazardous to a mother fucker’s health. You know what I mean?”

  Jen arched one of her eyebrows up in the air as she finished her question on a higher pitch of voice than when she had started speaking.

  “Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” Lars said as the waiter whisked by leaving in his wake a water in front of each of them. Lars reached forward, grasped the water delicately and brought it to his lips. “You know, I don’t get to make many decisions, unfortunately. I completely understand your reaction to people just showing up at your work, especially if they get there before you and let themselves in. I thought it a foolish move to even try anything like that, but some people are stuck in their ways. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I’m not certain I do,” Jen said.

  “Well unlike the Italian mafia, the Irish mafia has never had its house cleaned, so to speak, so there is much of the old way of doing things still floating around,” Lars said. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but at the same time it does get a little frustrating to have to keep reliving the old mishaps over and over. Such as sending someone to talk to a person about a business proposition to never hear from them again because instead of behaving like an adult they wanted to scare the person.”

  Jen sat silently for a moment before responding.

  “So what exactly is the business proposition?” she asked. “Because so far the closest thing I’ve gotten to one was a message scrawled on the back wall of my office that told me I should sell.”

  Lars’ eyebrows shot up in a look of comical surprise.

  “Really-y,” he said, drawing out the last syllable.

  Lars frowned and the comical nature of his surprise disappeared as his eyebrows dropped.

  “Well,” he said. “I guess I’ll need to really communicate what I mean when I want a message left.”

  The waiter walked up to the table looking like he was completely overwhelmed and dropped off some bread, but no plates.