Alli
Page 8
Michelle looked over toward Randy. He was crouched down in the corner of one of the sparring rings, back against the corner, with his head in his hands.
“I take it you are responsible for this B&E we are standing in?” Michelle jokingly asked as she approached Randy.
“I guess so,” Randy said, looking directly into Michelle’s clear blue eyes. “I would have committed my first murder, too, if it hadn’t been for your ex-husband over there.”
They both looked over to see Carl, but he wasn’t alone. Fredrick Hightower II had him in a choke hold, with a shiny Colt Anaconda revolver pointed at his head.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Sorry to break up your little pity-party,” Hightower began, “but we have some unfinished business we need to discuss.” Hightower motioned with his gun for Randy and Michelle to surrender their weapons and slide them under the Hummer. After they had complied with his request, he pushed Carl over toward his two friends, while slipping Carl’s gun under the vehicle with the others.
“Now detective,” Fredrick began, “As I remember, Carl keeps two pairs of handcuffs inside the back of his belt. Please be so kind as to handcuff both of your male partners before our little meeting begins.” Michelle cranked the ratchets on the handcuffs so they would remain somewhat loose on both of the men.
“My dear detective,” Hightower added, “You disappoint me. Those handcuffs need to be a little tighter than that. It’s for their own safety, you know. We wouldn’t want them to try something foolish and get themselves shot, now would we?” As Michelle circled in front of Randy, he mouthed the word “pocket” to her. She picked up immediately that his keys were in his pants pocket. She knelt down behind him to tighten his handcuffs, and deftly slipped her hand into his pocket, enveloping the keys in her hand to prevent them from rattling, and dropped them into Randy’s waiting hand behind his back. She couldn’t see, but she assumed there was a handcuff key on the ring. For lack of another set of handcuffs, Hightower had Michelle sit on her hands, and motioned his two guards to wait outside.
Hightower moved to the side of the Hummer, placing himself between Michelle, Carl and Randy and their weapons. He seemed to be enjoying himself, waving his gun around and barking orders at his captives. Carl, on the other hand, was wondering why he had kept Randy from shooting the jerk back on the tenth floor.
“You have no idea what’s at stake here,” Hightower began. “My discoveries are going to change everything we know about how man interfaces with his computer. Everything from how the disabled relate to the rest of us, to how a woman prepares her grocery list is about to change.” Hightower was waving his gun around recklessly in all directions. “My hybrid computers will become their owner’s best friend. They will do all the things we can’t or don’t want to do. Every home will have their own computer expert, always available, to answer questions or for tutoring a person any subject they desire.” Hightower was now pacing back and forth along the side of the Hummer.
Finally, he stopped and put his foot up on the running board, as if he were posing for a photograph. “But having help around the house is just the beginning,” Hightower continued, still gesturing with his firearm. “The commercial aspects are limitless. Companies will be able to handle all of their telemarketer needs for less than five years of salary to a conventional employee. And the new computer will perform twenty hours a day, indefinitely. No sick days, no vacations, no weekends off, no pensions. We have examples that have been on line for more than ten years.”
“Oh yeah?” Randy taunted. “You have one less than you did yesterday.” Hightower glared at Randy for a moment, and then looked away. “One defective unit will not derail the project, Mr. Fairchild. In fact, you did me a favor by taking your DEFECTIVE girlfriend off-line.”
“I put her out of her misery, you prick,” Randy shot back. “You’re no better than a damned plantation owner with a woodshed full of slaves to do your bidding.”
Hightower began rocking back and forth toward Randy. He was visibly agitated. He stepped back and grabbed the Hummer’s door handle, restraining himself, while he threatened Randy with the gun in his other hand. After a minute of glaring at Randy and collecting his thoughts, Hightower grinned at his captives.
“Very clever, Mr. Fairchild.” Hightower touched the gun to his temple and lightly tapped it against his head. “But your little mind games won’t work. No one has ever been able to successfully challenge my superior...” He suddenly stopped talking, his eyes fluttered, and then...
BLAM!
The large revolver in Hightower’s hand fired one round through his temple, exiting through a silver dollar sized hole in the front left side of his skull. The recoil from the big gun jerked it from Hightower’s now lifeless hand and it skittered across the hard concrete.
Hightower slumped to the floor.
“What the hell just happened?” Carl wondered out loud, not believing what he had witnessed. “The god-damned idiot shot himself!”
“Not exactly,” Randy said as he unlocked Carl’s handcuffs. After releasing their bonds and picking up Hightower’s weapon, Randy held up something to show Carl. His keys were dangling from his left hand. On his key ring was the remote key fob for the Hummer. “I have been waiting all spring to try out those shocking door handles,” He said with a grin. “They seem to have been worth every penny!”
Epilog
One Year Later
“Looks like Uncle Carl could use a break,” Randy said, as he retrieved his two month old daughter from his friend. Carl loved kids, as long as he could hand them back.
“You might want to check the diaper on that kid,” Carl suggested, fanning the air with his hand. “Her parents aren’t the only ones in the family packing lethal weapons, if you catch my drift.”
As they all waited for their lunch at the Red Fox Inn, Carl looked across the table at his best friend and his ex-wife. Life is full of surprises, he thought to himself. A lot can happen in a year.
Detective Miller (with Carl’s and Randy’s help) had arrested Hightower’s two security men at the boxing center on the night his ‘suicide’. The ballistics match from one of their firearms, and testimony offered in exchange for leniency, implicated Hightower and his men in the murders of Dr. Johnson and Jessica Cooper. Both were put behind bars for the foreseeable future.
Carl decided to spend more time NOT working, and offered Randy a partnership in the company, to help run things.
After the Hightower ‘suicide’, Ameriplaxi’s stock values plummeted. With their resident genius gone, and having left no succession plan, the business floundered.
Senator McGinty’s pet project was unplugged, and the building mothballed. Just another government project that had cost the taxpayers billions of dollars, run its course, and failed.
Randy and Michelle were married three weeks after their ordeal at the boxing center, and decided to move to Middleburg and start a family of their own.
“I’ll be right back,” Michelle said, as she gathered daughter, blanket and diaper bag for a trip to the restroom. She kissed Randy on the top of his head. “Start without me if lunch comes while I’m gone.”
“I thought she was a real hard-ass when I first met your ex,” Randy said, after Michelle was out of earshot. “Now, I can’t imagine life without her. You really screwed up when you let her go, bud.”
Carl was smiling and shaking his head. “No, I’m not her type. Besides, nothing cures a broken heart like a new romance,” Carl said. “You were really messed up after that Sarah thing last year.”
“Give me a little credit,” Randy insisted. “I’ve visited so many psychologists and psychiatrists since then, I’m the most well-adjusted Son-of-a-Bitch on the planet.” Both men sat back from their table as their lunch arrived. Michelle also returned, with a more pleasant-smelling child.
“You two go ahead and eat,” Randy insisted, reaching for his little girl.
“Alli and I will keep you entertained.”
Thanks for reading!
Other books by Kurt and Michelle Zimmerman can be found at:
www.kurtwzimmerman.com