by James Ross
J Dub looked livid. He was not angry with Hank but was disappointed that he had to deal with all of the negative news. Lew had always portrayed himself as a victim through the years. He always claimed that everyone was out to get him. Yet now, J Dub started to realize that Lew may have been taking advantage of him and taken the best years of his life away from him. He muttered, “Business is business, huh? That’s the same thing that Lew has said over and over and over again.”
~ ~ ~
Several days later . . .
Marcia got another catering job for which she had to prepare food. She and J Dub felt like it would be another chance to talk to Curt. They gathered around the breakfast island in the kitchen to slice fruits and vegetables. “You heard what he had to say,” Curt said to J Dub.
“It doesn’t look good, Marcia,” J Dub mumbled.
“I can’t say that it comes as a surprise,” Marcia said.
“He’s been skimming so much that I can’t buy the place in the financial condition that it is in,” J Dub rationalized.
“Take your cut and get out of it,” Marcia urged.
“That might pose a whole other set of problems,” Curt cautioned. He turned to J Dub. “Have you told her?”
J Dub shook his head. He had postponed delivering the not-so-good news to his wife.
“What do I need to know?” Marcia asked.
J Dub’s frame of mind had been altered by the words of Hank Lowery. He had not had his wits about him since leaving the law office. “Basically, we are a minority shareholder. We don’t have any rights. He can legally give us thirty cents on the dollar and get away with it if he wants to. Technically, he could give me nothing,” J Dub explained.
“That’s not right!’ Marcia screamed.
“I didn’t think so either,” J Dub agreed. “But that is the way our system works. And it’s perfectly legal. The only way that I can recover what I feel is mine is to sue him.”
“I still think that we need to do our homework and gather as many dirty pictures as we can on the guy,” Curt offered.
“What good would that do?” Marcia complained.
“At least it would offer us an insurance policy for whatever might happen down the road,” Curt proposed. “Lew still owes J Dub a fiduciary duty.”
“What is that?” questioned Marcia.
“He has to be truthful with J Dub,” Curt clarified. “That hasn’t exactly been the case based on what J Dub has been told and the documents that he’s been given.”
Marcia disagreed. “I don’t know! I’m leaning toward J Dub taking his cut and moving on. I’m done fiddling around with this guy.”
“That’s letting him win!” J Dub butted in.
Marcia didn’t care who the perceived winner was going to be. “I want you away from that disgusting excuse for . . . .”
“I’m not giving up that easy!” J Dub interrupted.
“Everybody calm down. We’re not to that point yet,” Curt cut in.
“My patience is over with all of this nonsense,” Marcia howled. “I may not be around to see the end.”
J Dub felt the need to take charge of the conversation. “Everybody hold on. We’re not forced to make any kind of a decision tonight. We just asked Hank a few questions and got some answers that we weren’t necessarily prepared for. Besides, there are still a few more holes left in this round.”
“Why do you have to put everything into a golf analogy?” Marcia whined.
“Golf is like life,” J Dub reasoned. “Just because we’re stringing up a few bogeys right now doesn’t mean that we don’t have a lot of birdies left in our bag.”
Chapter Seventy-Two
The Summer of 1997 . . .
Lew couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. A lot of things were starting to happen in his favor. If he continued to play his cards right he could make one last big score. Manipulating J Dub was simple. However, he needed to get the U.S. Attorney off of his back. In his mind Ellie Hackett presented a much more formidable obstacle to him than his partner.
Whenever Lew wanted to talk about things his experience told him to contact Monty and Raymond. They were trusted friends that he could count on. The favors had lasted a lifetime and had been extended both ways. He placed a couple of calls and invited them out for some target practice.
The guys liked to assemble late in the afternoon, usually an hour or so before the sun went down. Typically, the wind would die down at that time of day. They would go behind Lew’s barn, set up the skeet machine and then fire away at the clay pigeons as the sun vanished beneath the horizon. The targets burst against a colorful and majestic sky.
As the oranges and yellows turned to dusk a sinister tone was cast upon the group. Monty and Raymond knew the routine. The rifles and skeet machine were returned to the barn. As the three men strolled out of the barn and across the driveway, Lew posed a question to his pseudo legal advisor. “Have you got anything in the works, Monty?”
Monty smiled. The strong-armed tactics that he learned while negotiating for the union leaders in the early days of his career had prepared him well.
“I’ve got a few more things that I need to have done,” Lew hinted.
“You’ve always been good to us,” Raymond said.
“Just keep those packets coming,” Monty stated with a grin.
Lew stopped in mid-stride and looked at the two men straight on. He was sick and tired of the hassles that the government had been putting him through. “You need to find out what she’s up to, Raymond.”
Over the years Lew had angered quite a few women. Raymond was a tad bit confused. “Which one are you referring to?”
“Hackett,” Lew responded.
Raymond acted like he thought that the tax matter had been resolved. “Is she still causing problems?”
“She won’t get off my ass!” Lew exploded. The pressure of the investigation seemed to be causing him to have a few sleepless nights. He turned to Monty. “Have you come up with anything for El Cerdo?”
“Yeah, a couple of things have turned up,” Monty replied.
Lew was all ears. “What kind of things?”
“Technical stuff,” Monty replied. “She might not live in her district.”
“Can you get to the bottom of it?”
Monty nodded. “That one is easy. I’ll have to put a tail on her to get the answers on the other one,” Monty offered.
Lew was very interested in what Monty was talking about. “Need some help?”
Monty nodded. “I’ll have to hire some guys. That takes money.”
“You two sit tight. I’ll be right back,” Lew said. He headed into his home.
In Lew’s absence Raymond turned to Monty. “What have you found out?” Raymond asked.
“She has a house in her district, but she’s not living in it,” Monty alleged. “She’s got some broad that she’s renting it to.”
“How long has she been doing that?”
“Six months. She’s got her kid in a private school across the river,” Monty explained. “She moved over there so that he’d be close to it. That way he wouldn’t have to drive too far to class.”
“That’s in a different state!” Raymond exclaimed.
“Exactly,” Monty said with a grin. “We’ll get her.”
“She can’t be doing that,” Raymond maintained. “What other stuff do you have on her?”
Lew appeared at the door. “I’ll tell you about it later,” Monty whispered.
Lew walked up to the men and handed them several packets wrapped in newspaper. “Here this should help both you guys out a little.”
Large amounts of cash had been wrapped in the newspapers. “Get done what needs to be done,” Lew ranted. “And make sure that you-know-who is taken care of.”
Monty nodded.
“She thinks she has me this time, Raymond. Get her off of my ass. Talk to your friends in Washington!” Lew pleaded with the Congressman to use his authority to sway opinions.
> Raymond was the quintessential politician. He knew how the game was played. However, tinkering with the Justice Department put him in tenuous territory. “That might be too tough even for me to pull off. She’s putting people away, Lew.”
“And I don’t want to be one of them! I’ve paid you a ton to protect me! Use your influence!” Lew yelled.
“That’s easier said than done,” Raymond responded. “I’ll do my best.”
An evil grin spread over Lew’s face. Everyone was a mark for him, even Monty and Raymond. Lew had learned early in life to try to get the other guy before the other guy got him. “You better give me more than your best. You remember one thing and keep it straight. If I go down, then you guys go with me.”
Monty was petrified of going back to prison. “What do you mean?”
Lew had a smirk on his face that Monty wanted to slap. “Remember the party when you got out?”
Both men nodded in agreement. How could they ever forget that night? Cancun and Raven did anything that the two of them had requested. Lew paused and his grin reappeared. “I’ve still got the tape.”
Raymond considered himself a family man. Lew’s threat could put his political career in jeopardy. He glared at Lew and under his breath whispered, “You mother-fucker.”
Chapter Seventy-Three
A few weeks after that . . .
Monty and Raymond had some work to do. They both knew that their interests would best be served if they didn’t waste any time. Lew had a mean, evil streak. When he coughed up the cash, they understood that he wanted immediate results. There was to be no delay.
There wasn’t a whole lot for Monty to do during the day. He had served his sentence. The time that he spent at the halfway house got him ready to re-enter society. However, that wasn’t as simple as it appeared. He had lost his livelihood and spent the better part of each day trying to reach out to his old contacts.
His day started out like most of the others, hanging out at his old law office and making a few phone calls. He shared a couple of cups of coffee and shot the breeze with whoever poked their head in the lunchroom. Then, just before lunch, Monty got into his car and made a drive that he hadn’t made in a few years.
After negotiating several stoplights he wound up on the outskirts of town. As he pulled onto a state highway memories of his life before prison flashed through his mind. He had made this drive many times in the past. Nothing really had changed.
The farm fields were still sprouting wheat, corn, or soybeans. Storage bins that stockpiled grain dotted the countryside. A new Butler building or two was sprinkled across the landscape. The road crew had one lane shut down for asphalt patching. All in all, the more things changed, the more things stayed the same.
His pot-belly showed signs of reappearing. Monty felt good about putting some weight back on. The ponytail started to acquire some length. Now, when Monty put a rubber band around it, some hair actually dangled. The REDMAN chewing tobacco would slide across the dashboard on every right turn. Monty grinned. In his mind things were returning to normal.
He approached a flat stretch of the highway. He was on the part of the road that traversed the river bottom. Signs of civilization started to appear. He neared his old stomping grounds.
Monty couldn’t help but notice the familiar surroundings. He drove past a used car lot located behind a chain link fence, a temporary church that operated out of a metal building, and a modular home sales trailer.
Two near-vacant strip malls came into view. Both were in need of repair. A pawn shop anchored one and the other had signs posted on it that read: GUNS / AMMO and CHECKS CASHED HERE.
An over-the-road truck dealership sat next to a dilapidated motor motel. CINDY’s MOTEL always had one or two cars parked outside during the day. If it wasn’t a traveling salesman, then it was someone that scored with a hooker or perhaps a married guy that had sneaked off for a “nooner” with some other guys’ wife.
The truck stop toted diesel fuel and truck washes. A drag strip and dirt track were located on the river side of the road. Monty could see the hangars that housed single engine aircraft at the adjacent landing strip.
THE TREASURE CHEST was housed in an old Butler building. Just down from that was an area known as “The Promenade.” During the night time hours the ladies would parade up and down the road in their skin tight jeans, shaking their money makers. Close by was PEDRO’S PORNO PARLOR where he and Lew frequented as young adults to visit the glory hole booths for a buck or two. Monty at one time had a huge client base located on that piece of the highway. He had spent a memorable foggy night there at one time.
SMOKEY’s was the roadside tavern known for ice-cold longnecks. A winning lottery ticket was once purchased there and the portable sign in the parking lot served as a constant reminder that the place was luckier than most. Next to that was a heavy-equipment operator. Bulldozers, scrapers, and a backhoe could be seen beyond the barbed wire.
The hodge-podge of assorted businesses suggested a scattered zoning category. There were light industrial applications mixed in with warehouse storage facilities. Retail businesses stuck out like sore thumbs. It seemed like whoever had money and an idea could go into business on the river bottom. Anything was possible just so the township could collect tax dollars.
After he passed the offices of a heating and cooling contractor Monty turned his car into Fricke’s Salvage Yard. Wrecked cars were stacked on top of each other. Several tow trucks could be seen on the fenced lot. The locked gate supported a “NO TRESPASSING” sign.
Two men approached Monty before he could get out of the car. Monty reached for the bundle of newspapers that he had placed on the passenger seat and jumped out to greet them.
“Long time, no see,” Fricke said. Gary Fricke was a rough looking man in his early forties. He had gotten control of his father’s business after his dad dropped over from a heart attack. That was back when he was in his twenties. The life of a junk peddler was tough and Gary showed the years.
His younger brother, by two years, was Larry Fricke. He had gotten the short end of the hereditary stick and lived with the nickname of Frack. He was the tougher of the two and had the face to vouch for it. Between the brawls, petty thefts, and Magnum escapades, Frack was lucky that he had made it this far in life.
The two of them together were street smart and fearless. They had the ability to tow away broken-down, semi-tractor trailers or swindle someone on a set of hot hubcaps. There wasn’t anything that these two wouldn’t do for a buck. Monty had been acquaintances with them for a number of years. He especially needed them to do his dirty work.
“You made it,” Frack acknowledged.
“The halfway house was the toughest,” Monty admitted. “You can see the light of freedom but can’t quite reach it.”
“Whatcha got for us?” Fricke blurted.
“A couple of jobs,” Monty volunteered.
“Need anybody rubbed out?” Frack inquired. He was never one to mince any words.
Monty smiled. Frack hadn’t changed a bit. He was always the one that begged for the dirty work. “ . . . No, nothing like that.”
“Easy stuff then,” Frack uttered.
“For you it might be boring,” Monty countered.
“Whatcha you need?” Fricke asked again. He could see the bundle of cash that Monty had in his hands and his eyes were feasting on it.
“Let’s go inside and settle up and I’ll tell you what I need to have done,” Monty proposed.
“We’ve never been known for our smarts,” Frack admitted.
The three men headed into the office of the world headquarters for Fricke’s Salvage Yard. To enter the office the men had to climb up an outside set of stairs that led to the second floor office located above the garage of an older two-story home. Fricke’s desk was cluttered with carburetors, hubcaps, and a steering wheel. The filing system for any paperwork appeared to be on the floor. Monty took a seat on a worn out leather couch that had foam bustin
g from its seams. Monty proceeded to spell out his plans and then paid handsomely to have them carried out.
~ ~ ~
Raymond, on the other hand, had a totally different journey to make. His method of operation was a little more upscale than Monty’s. Raymond put on a suit and bought a new tie. He then headed off to the U.S. Attorney’s office to try to broker a deal. Politics were his business and he wanted to exert a little power.
It had been quite a while since he had spoken to Ellie Hackett. Politically, they were on opposite sides of the fence. Her appointment had been confirmed by the opposing party. Even though they had been invited to several of the same social gatherings, the two of them didn’t have a lot of reason to speak with each other.
Yet, both of them were in positions of authority. They were powerful people in their own right. It wasn’t such a bad idea for them to meet to air a little dirty laundry. Posturing was posturing. It was hard to tell when someone might need a favor.
Raymond felt uneasy the minute he walked into Ellie’s office and sat down. He was used to being catered to and he could tell that she was doing everything in her might to intimidate him. For a power broker and deal maker that gave him an uncomfortable feeling. He was on her turf and wasn’t real sure whether or not he was being recorded.
Ellie was cordial, yet cold. She was friendly on the surface, but businesslike in her approach. As Raymond sat, she stood and walked to the window quietly. Her back gave Raymond the impression that she was being standoffish. He was almost scared to speak.
After what seemed like hours of silence Raymond thought that he would pay Ellie a small compliment. “You should be congratulated for the excellent job you’ve been doing against white-collar crime in my district.”
“That’s a bunch of bull,” Ellie said turning to him. They both knew that she almost put him away a decade earlier. Raymond lived in the gray areas of business. However, he always seemed to stay lily-white with his reputation. Her expertise in the white-collar crime activities had been hitting close to home for Raymond.
Raymond was surprised a tad by her reaction. “The party has noticed.”